#they usually don't do shit when we die
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gorillawithautism · 9 months ago
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holy fuck??
"The decision has been made to remove all children from the care of Trails Carolina, and all new admissions are suspended. ... Parents have been notified and children will be temporarily taken into care of Transylvania County DSS."
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[image id] screenshot of a press release shared three days ago by the transylvania county sheriff's department facebook account. the text reads as follows:
Below is a press release from the North Carolina Department of Health and Human Services in regards to Trails Carolina.
The Transylvania County Department of Social Services and Sherriff's Office, along with staff from the North Carolina Department of Health and Human Services, have been conducting investigations of Trails Carolina following the death of a child on February 3, 2024. The decision has been made to remove all children from the care of Trails Carolina, and all new admissions are suspended. While the investigation is ongoing and we cannot comment on specific details, it was determined that action needed to be taken to ensure the health and safety of the children. Parents have been notified and children will be temporarily taken into care of Transylvania County DSS.
The death at Trails Carolina is tragic and concerning. We extend our deepest sympathies to the family and loved ones of the child who died, and commit to them that we are conducting a thorough investigation with our county partners and will take every appropriate step based on the outcome of our and other investigations.
[end image id]
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violettierre · 7 months ago
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I : majored in english, has a masters degree in it, studying philosophy, and have been an English teacher/Junior translator for almost a decade now.
My grandma : there is our future doctor <3
#i still to this day don't know if she's in denial or thinks what i'm doing is a hobby#it gets funnier every time#especially today#i was like 'mimma i just came back from work i'm so tired' and she was like 'i make food right now for our future doctor'#like ???????#grandma i love your food pls don't give it to someone else#who doctor ? doctor who ?#me ??????#that is so NOT my career#my already existing one that i fought my entire bloodline for put aside#i can never be a good doctor let alone willingly choose it#1) i suck at biology and science and those pure memorization shit#2) i'm really sensitive to blood or injuries i might faint at just the mention of certain stuff (surgeries are crossed off i would DIE)#3) it's just not meant to be and that's okay#as a society we can't survive with one or two careers all of them are important in their own way#an exercise i would usually tell my students to do at this topic#is everytime you feel like someone's job is useless to close your eyes and imagine a world without it#if i managed to convince them hurray to them#if i didn't i ask them to imagine someone they care for work hard then get told their job is useless#(that on usually does the trick)#the thing is even if you're stuck with a job you hate or can't find a better one#there's still some impotance to that job in a way like they offer service or blah blah#yet it will suffocate you because it's not the career you were meant to have#that summed up means the work environment/pressure/nature are what we really define as useless because they can be unfair#but not the work itself#when we delete those previous stuff off the definition all careers are equally important#i hope i was clear#and i also hope my grandma remembers that too#story time
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bibiana112 · 10 months ago
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And for bad oversharing medical news the arrhythmia from december never went away but I thought maybe the throat infection was still there right so that could be a reason but then I went to a specialist and not only is it practically cured (just lingering a bit) but my lungs sound fine as well! which means! the shortness of breath is probably something wrong with the oxygen in the bloodstream and the slight chest tightness is also extremely worrying I could only make an appointment to get it checked next friday and that sounds like way too long
#I know it's morbid but the only thing I can think about is how fucking mad I am at my parents and how I wish I had someone else to take care#of my things and burial if I were to die#they don't know me#they would do everything against my wishes because they never cared to listen#and Especially I am mad at my dad cause when this started he was around and I was really scared and upset and nearly crying and I told him#that I was considering going to the hospital right there and then and then he didn't. fucking say anything or ask if I was okay#they'll never listen anything just registers as crazy fucking kid having a tantrum again let's give her space leave her out of sight#And I had to Yell at him to stop telling me not to go to the hospital the next day and I mean Yell and he still said they'd deny it#that I was making it up if I had just been on my fucking own I wouldn't have double guessed myself on it and gone to the wrong specialist#and wasted time and gotten to the point where it's not like debilitating pain but constantly aware that it's there and I can only like eat#heart healthy shit that I don't even like and wait and god I am so upset at them why so I have to be alone and yet still be so tied to them#why pretend to care when I've said time and time again they're still hurting me like nearly everytime we see each other#Okay nevermind I actually Need to distract myself now usually confronting feelings is my favorite#but my body is telling me that if I want to cry I have to deal with it physically feeling like there's a hole between my ribs so#I'll hold off on it#I'll be fine#god going to sleep has been the absolute worse#delete later
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highwaydiamonds · 2 years ago
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As someone who hates the sisyphean task of cleaning, how dare my mental health prefer a clean room.
#like come on brain - you could have made this one easier on the rest of me but ( as usual) NO You didn't#did i think about this as i sit in my tidy bedroom where everything just looks a lot cheerier and cozy and happy now that it's clean? yes#did it literally take me DAYS to get it this clean - and by this clean i still have laundry and stuff to do - so it's not perfect#but it looks like it p much is#and while my skin has not been cleared no my depression cured - it certainly is a boost to feel like this is a refuge#i actually want to spend time in her and feel like it's a nice room to be in - awaaaaaaaay from the other people i live with#and lbr - i need a plce to get awaaaaaaaay from them (and ok fine vice versa most likely)#but still - it would be a lot simpler if my brain liked a messy room more- my lazy parts would prefer that- but no#depression brain says -BITCH CLEAN UP - you will be happier and capable of doing some of the things if it's clean#also - you will feel LESS OF THE BAD HORRORS if it is clean#so UGH - FINE i will have to work to keep it clean - I GUESS.#i should reread camus's myth of sisyphus because iirc he didn't talk about dishes or laundry or room cleaning in that#he probably talked about death - been too many years since i read it - i don't remember - probs death and suicide#but not cleaning - he should have talked about cleaning. or wanting to die when you realized living means more cleaning#that would have been way relatable - but anyway - here we are- i'm not dead - and not planning on being so any time soon hopefully#partly because there is shit i still wanna do - but also partly because this room looks p decent and i'm not gonna make it messy#especially not by dying in here when it takes forever to get it clean#moral of the story: cleaning makes you feel like you wanna die but when it's done for the moment you'll be like i'll do that another day#because now the room is clean and dying in there would be a waste of the efforts of cleaning. just appreciate the space - vibe w/ it#and then you realize - ok life is maybe okay - and there's art and books and flowers and sex and chocolate and cute animals#so even if there are sisyphean tasks - and there are many - well do em anyway - brain will like it and then get back to the good stuff#thus endeth the tag saga after a short text post#welcome to how shit is around here sometimes
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icedille · 4 months ago
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having feelings and emotions is hell idk who thought this was a good idea I WANT A LOBOTOMY!!!!!!!
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dollfacefantasy · 3 months ago
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can't get started ♡
older bf!logan howlett x fem!reader
logan can't get it up one night and is humiliated. but that just means he'll have to prove he can still satisfy you.
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, daddy kink, age gap (reader in 20s)
a/n: the part in dpw where he said he's got whiskey dick with the claws turned me on too much tbh
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This had never happened to Logan before.
That wasn't a lie he was telling you to make himself look less pathetic. It wasn't an affirmation he repeated in his own head to feel like he was still hot shit. It was the truth. One he would swear to on anything.
He'd never had a problem getting it up before.
Not with you, not with anyone. He thought the healing factor made him immune to whiskey dick or any kind of down-there dysfunction. But apparently not. Because the two of you finally had some time alone after being amidst the chaos of the mansion all day and his body was stalling.
The second he had the bedroom door shut, you were dragging him over to the bed and climbing into his lap. You were doing everything like usual. Your lips pressed against his, and then moved to his jawline and down his neck. Your hands glided across the firm muscles of his chest. Your hips rolled down against his lap, beckoning the appendage between his legs to reciprocate your desire.
But it just wouldn't. He tried to make it because it wasn't a matter of not wanting you. He wanted you bad. 
He grabs your chin and brings your lips back up to his mouth so he can communicate his passion wordlessly. He digs his fingers into your hips, feeling the beginnings of where your flesh swells into your ass. He envisions how you'd been prancing around the whole day, cute tits pushing against the fabric of your t-shirt and calling out for him to grab.
You're so soft and warm. The little mewls that leave your lips sound like calls of angels up above. It doesn't matter though. His cock had clocked out for the night.
"God damnit," he grumbles before brushing you off his lap and bringing his fist down against the mattress. He sighs and his head hangs.
He can already sense the look on your face. Worry, hesitation, and affection swirling into one humiliating look. He feels your hand find his shoulder, the touch tender and accepting.
"It's ok, Logan. We don't have to," you say. Your tone is so soft and gentle, and it just drives him fucking nuts.
"But you want to," he says and looks over at you. The look in your eyes kills him. He knows you don't mean it, but it looks so patronizing. As if he's an old dog about to be taken out back and old yeller'd.
"Yeah but I don't want you to force yourself. We can just cuddle," you offer, sweet as can be.
"It's not forcing, I want to do this. I want you so bad," he says and cups your cheek. He pulls you back onto his lap and nuzzles your neck. "Been thinking about this all day."
You let out a little sigh as he lays some kisses on the column of your throat, and that gives him a spark of hope. Maybe he can do this. Maybe he doesn't have to be put out to pasture just yet. The two of you make out and grind and feel each other up some more. But eventually your tits are all but in his face and his dick still doesn't have a pulse.
He huffs and pulls back. 'Fuck, I'm sorry, sweetheart," he says.
You watch him, the gleam in your eyes as adoring as ever. It was the same look you gave him when you'd have to explain a basic function of a cell phone to him.
"It's ok. You don't have to be embarrassed," you reassure and lean in to peck his cheek.
He groans and gently brushes you off. "Don't. I don't need you coddling me."
"I'm just saying. I understand," you say with conviction, hands splaying on your chest to physically convey your empathy, "It happens to lots of guys when they get older. You don't have to be ashamed of it with me."
And in that moment, he wishes he didn't have his mutation so he could just die on the spot from being utterly mortified. He'd actually have preferred if you laughed in his face and called him an old man. A sad, old, perverted fuck who decided to date some half his age even though he couldn't keep up with her appetite. If you'd told him you were gonna find someone who could satisfy you, it probably would've stung less than being talked to like a patient who doesn't know their cancer is terminal.
There was no chance in hell, you'd ever do any of that though. As much as he hated that fact right now, it was part of why he loved you.
All he does is mumble a thank you and kiss the corner of your mouth. He doesn't just cuddle you after though. He gets you off on his thigh. You were still going to cum even if he couldn't. When you're done, he holds you close and rubs your back till you're sleeping curled up to his side.
His night isn't very restful though. It's haunted with the prospect of future incidents like this, of your perception of him changing. The look in your eyes changing from admiration to pity.
He can't live with that. The next day for the two of you is super busy, but he makes sure there's a spot at the end of it for him to secure his redemption.
This time around it's him carting you away from the others once the sun is down, mouth on the curve of your neck before you even reach the bedroom. His hands grope your waist and paw at your tits. You stumble into the door, bumping it loud enough that you'd be worried about someone hearing you if they weren't all downstairs.
"Logan..." you giggle. You push your ass back against him and glance at him out of your peripheral.
"Not what you're gonna be calling me before the night is done, sweet thing," he grunts and boosts you up.
Your legs press into his sides to support yourself as he opens the door. He takes the two of you inside and kicks it shut behind him before heading to the bed and tossing you on the mattress.
You look up at him with a coy smile, arms propping you up and one of your legs extended to entice him.
"You know... you don't have to prove anything to me, right?" you say.
"Oh, I don't?" he asks and grabs your ankle, pulling you to the edge of the bed so your hips meet, "You're too easy to please, babydoll."
Another laugh bubbles through your lips. Your legs drop to lock around his waist. "I'm just saying. It's like totally normal, and I don't want you to get all grumpy about it."
"Oh, I get grumpy, do I?" he asks as he leans over you. His large body envelopes yours on the mattress. He ducks down further to swallow your words up with kisses.
You hum into the exchange but pull back a little to finish your thought.
"Mhm, you do. And I just don't want you to feel that way cause I knew when we got together what I was getting into," you say.
Your confidence is so cute. You talk with absolute certainty, like you understand all there is to be understood about him. Like you'd known him forever and he hadn't been doing things like this for decades longer than you walked this earth.
His mouth crashes against yours again, his body weighing down on you and crushing you into the mattress. 
"You did, hm? You knew what you were getting into? You got with me thinking I wouldn't be able to give it to you how you need all the time?" he mutters against your skin.
"I didn't mean it like-"
"Didn't mean it like that? How'd you mean it then, sweetheart?"
"I dunno..."
"Doesn't sound like you knew what you were getting into to me," he breathes.
That little sentence that you'd said in an attempt to comfort him unlocked something between the two of you. He felt his cock waking up and pressing against his zipper, eager to get out and slide home. It's hard to register your clothes being pulled off when he's got his tongue in your mouth and his fingers playing with your clit. In no time at all, he's got the both of you bare and his cock nestled between your thighs.
Like he already knew, the issue last night had never been about lack of desire. And he intended to prove that to you, fuck you so good it wiped your memory of any placating word that fell from your lips.
He ruts into you hard. The mattress rocks on the bed frame and threatens to slide off. His dick is big and even though it's not a new sensation for you, each time you take it is a stretch. It's even more so when he pushes you up by the back of your knees. You whine as you're folded in half. His thrusts hit your sweet spot every time at this angle.
"Thought you knew what you were getting into?" he teases as he pistons himself in and out.
You mewl and bob your head, though you aren't sure if you're shaking your head or nodding.
"Fuckkkk, Logan. 'm sorry," you pant. Your walls squeeze tight around his shaft as your eyes close up. He made every part of your body contract and feel like it was moments from exploding.
He simply laughs at your apology. "Don't gotta be sorry. You didn't do anything wrong. I'm just showing you what happens when I get older."
His balls hang heavy and swing with each motion, clapping against your ass. The heat between your legs is enough to make you squirm. Constant whimpers pour from your lips as he fucks into you without mercy.
"I know," you moan, "You fuck me better than anyone else."
"That's right," he grunts, "Nobody else could fuck you like this. Just me."
"Mhm, just daddy," you slur and cling onto him tighter. Your arms hook around his neck and keep his sweaty skin flush against yours.
"Just daddy," he repeats, his tone smooth like silk despite his raspy voice, "You don't need anyone else. Not when I can take care of you like this."
His tip prods at your cervix, making you yelp and buck. He doesn't stop though, just keeps battering into you, hammering into your warm, wet hole.
"You don't need any little boys thinking they know how to handle you," he breathes and nuzzles your neck, "Your old man can handle you just fine, make you cum whenever you need."
A strangled cry leaves your lips. Your nails dig into his back so hard that it seems like you wanted to draw blood. His words just make you melt for him. Reduce you down to a compliant jumble of flesh for him to mold and play with how he wants.
"Needa cum right now, daddy," you whine.
"I know you do, spoiled girl. You act so understanding, but I know that little pussy is aching to cum around my cock. To get filled up with my cum," he murmurs.
You nod wildly.
He chuckles at your eagerness and snaps against you even harder.
"Hold on tight, baby," he whispers.
His hips ricochet off your ass, clapping against you with intensity that borders on violent. You squeal and hang on as directed. Your whole body rocks with his momentum. Your head bobbles around like it's empty, which it is. Empty of everything but him.
"Fuck fuck fuck fuck," you whimper.
"Let it out for me. Let me feel you burst, pretty girl," he grunts as he continues plowing into you.
Your body rolls. Your hips vibrate with the ecstasy release brings you. It crashes over you in one intense wave, like a gallon of liquid euphoria being poured over you. Your eyes flutter, and you bury your face in his neck like he has his in yours.
He fucks you through it. Coos in your ear too. "That's my baby. My sweet girl. Always sound so pretty when you're cumming."
One of your hands flies up to clutch at his thick, dark hair. Keeping him close keeps the words flowing.
"Getting so tight for me, fuck. No one can make me cum like you, honey. Drains me dry every fucking time."
Moments later he spurts into you, unloading thick ropes of his spend inside you. You let out another moan from that sensation alone. He growls and pants against your skin, his hands locking you in place as his hips pummel into your cunt and make sure every last drop has been released.
He lingers on you for a few moments before pulling out. His body feels loose in the afterglow. He stands at the edge of the bed and looks down at himself and then you. He knows he's gonna have to clean you up. Your inner thighs are shimmery with a mix of fluids, and the bush of dark hair at the base of his cock is in the same condition.
"Time to shower, baby?" he asks and pats your leg. You don't respond at first and he smirks. "Or did I tire you out too much?"
You whine something incoherent and shift to turn your face against the blankets. His smug look grows. He crawls over you again and nips at your jaw, rubbing his nose against your cheekbone.
"You know, it's ok, sweetheart. It's nothing to be embarrassed about. It's totally normal for pretty little things like you. I knew that going in."
His tone mimics your soft and understanding one from earlier. You make a little growl and swat at his bicep.
“Shut up, old man.”
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affableramen · 17 days ago
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when they finish earlier than you
mature content including sexual themes; established relationships
Wriothesley, Tartaglia, Neuvillette, Pantalone, Ayato, Capitano, Dottore, Alhaitham, Dainsleif, Baizhu
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Wriothesley
He groans with emotion but it’s only a few seconds after he realises that you’re still beneath him, still haven't come. Wriothesley looks at your widened, surprised eyes and agape mouth. 
“Bloody hell—”, he spits with a shaky voice. “I’m so sorry, we haven't seen each other for a while and I—”
Wriothesley gently caresses your hip, while chuckling and looking at you half-blushing. “Shit, I must have missed you too much.”
It’s not a problem for him to bring you to the peak with his mouth or hands. 
Tartaglia
He squirts his release with a loud moan, pressing you close to his chest, his face buried into your neck. Those little bites shall leave radiant marks.
“Oh my god…” Ajax moans into your neck. “Oh f-fuck—I—”, he pats your back, “Fuck, I have never come so fast before. It’s not my fault, peanut, you’re too gorgeous for your own good.” He jokingly says, hiding his blush into your neck so you have no idea of it. Ajax is incredibly embarrassed and frustrated with his manhood that got too sensitive too soon.
Neuvillette
Neuvillette feels embarrassed and upset over losing his composure so quickly. He usually lasts long, and finding himself in such predicament gives way to the feeling of guilt and frustration.
“Darling, we can go one more round to get you satisfied. Please forgive me, my love.”
“No need to, Neuvillette, the both of us are tired. We can do it anytime during the week.”
“But I feel so guilty for coming first and not giving you the release you deserved. Let me at least satisfy you with my hands.”
“I don’t mind that, but please don't stress yourself out too much. It’s just sex, we can do many times better later. Nothing changes between us if you simply came early.”
Neuvillette caresses your face softly and speaks with emotion.
“You know that I usually last. I feel so defeated right now.”
To comfort your husband you place a kiss on the centre of his palm.
“Cumming early doesn't make my love to you fade, Neuvillette. In all honesty, I’m glad if I make you so excited that you can barely hold it together.” You give one other awkward but loving smiles. 
Pantalone
“I—I apologise. I did not foresee that, darling”, with a perplexed, disoriented look Pantalone pulls away. He gets purchase on the clean towel and covers his body in shame. A terrific sight, so rare for the Ninth Harbinger who is usually unabashed, especially in intimacy. 
“Oh my—how pathetic!”
You try to comfort him, saying that he must have been both too excited and tired after work, which ended up in premature peak, but Pantalone seems too distressed and angry at his inability to control himself as he quickly vanishes from the bedroom. 
Ayato
With a stiffled moan Ayato finishes, but somehow it feels so wrong - releasing much earlier than you, when his significant other’s orgasm is in question. 
Ayato grabs the towel and wipes himself clean, while looking down at you, your legs still thrown on his shoulders. 
“Oh my goodness”, he laughs at himself, but the laugh is nervous, not cocky or proud as it usually is. The man’s ego seems to die out ridiculously soon, as quickly as he finishes this time.
“We’ll have to go one more round after that…” he hisses, his member still very sensitive. “Once I get ready again.”
Capitano
“Hngghh—” 
Capitano pulls out with a well-heard grunt and pulls you closer to his chest. You are lying on top of him, your bodies are slightly wet when he makes a remark:
“I apologise, wife. It seems my stamina betrayed me tonight”, he gives a smooch to your cheek, brief but filled with devoted emotion. “Maybe if you stay a while like this, I can satisfy you longer. What do you think?” He delivers yet another kiss, this time to your neck. His voice sounds much quieter and he gently runs his hand through your hair.
“We should really stay together tonight. I feel like I need you more than ever. And not a word about this to anyone.”
Dottore
“Dottore, get out of the bathroom, immediately.”
“No!” A grunt and a curse escape from the inside of the bathroom. “I must learn what caused the fail in performance.”
“Dottore, I’m happy either way. Besides you looked quite funny.”
“FUNNY—she thinks I’m funny”, he utters to himself under his breath. “I’m going to check this little idiot for ruining our bedtime.”
Your amused laugh can be heard from the bedroom, as Dottore’s anger at his own manhood looks funny.
Alhaitham
“Oh, Y/N—f-fuck!” Alhaitham certainly does not expect himself to cum prematurely. His face looks red and his expression radiates emotion. You swear you have never seen a face sexier than this. You didn't know that he could ever be able to cum so hard (and so soon). 
Alhaitham scowls, looking at you. “What? You think this is funny? It’s just a one time occurrence.” Another moan escapes his mouth and he covers his face with his hand. “You shouldn't see me like this—”
Dainsleif
Dainsleif falls onto the bed, utterly defeated and pulls you with him. You notice how heavily he is breathing and judging by the perplexed look on his face, never he did expect rushing his own release. He was shocked, to say in the least.
“Don’t look at me like that. You think you’ve defeated me?” Dainsleif groans when you move to his chest. “I will make you finish twice next time, and believe me—much earlier than me.”
Baizhu
Baizhu lets out a moan he did not expect coming and immediately covers his mouth. His face is red and silly when he looks down at you. He is blushing extraordinarily, and the buds of sweat roll over his chest as he towers over you. 
“Let’s pretend this did not happen, my dear”, he runs his hand down your lips and onto your neck. “Oh my goodness, how embarrassing.”
Yet you just give him a sincere laugh. “Baizhu, it’s alright. I enjoyed it immensely.”
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racew1nn3rs · 3 months ago
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─ 𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘦 𝘪𝘪𝘪. (𝘯𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘮𝘶𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘳) ⛵️
⤷ summary: miami and monaco. just lando being horribly down bad and y/n being at her wits end. poor oscar just can't escape the train wreck that is two losers with feelings and zero (0) emotional competency .
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liked by landonorris, ynusername, and 45,790 others
tagged oscarpiastri and landonorris
mclaren sorry to report that the only good thing about miami was the weather! (and the celebrities)
17,492 comments
user1 it's okay admin, you can say the car was shit
mclaren yeah the car was shit
user2 mclaren team is cursed i fear
mclaren alr where my witch baddies at? please unhex us pls pls pls
user3 uhm!!!????
mclaren desperate times desperate measures and all that jazz
user4 normal people: oh no the car is bad. yn: we're cursed for generations to come ☹️
landonorris i didn't get to meet shakira, what's the point of going on living
mclaren there is none! kys
landonorris oh wow
user5 nahhhh she gettin fired 💀
user6 not a single photo with lando's face 😭
user7 boohoo ☺️ OSCAR FANS, THEY BROKE BUT WE UP ‼️‼️‼️
user6 ok enough
landonorris post me challenge (difficult)
mclaren uh no (: go talk to hr bro we do not careeeeeee
user8 this beef is crazy, yall havent made up yet
user9 DOES ANYONE EVEN KNOW WHY THEYRE BEEFING 😭
oscarpiastri yeah
mclaren hey oscar! great race
oscarpiastri don't ever lie to my face like that again
maxfewtrell gonna build the car myself at this point
user10 i see a podium in our future everyone say thank you max
user11 y/n livestream when 😔
ynusername (;
user11 WHAT DOES THIS MEAN
user12 lando and admin flirting again, who could've guessed
user13 ... she told him to kill himself
user14 the enemies to lovers is enemying 🤩
user13 yeah, it's giving enemies to lovers but no lovers only murder
mclaren truth.
user12 ARIANA WHAT ARE YOU DOING HWRE
user15 mclaren, fire everyone and hire y/n as the engineer/ strategist/ driver/ pit crew/ pr
mclaren we winning 🥱
oscarpiastri you'd be the only one finishing cause everyone else would die ☝🏻
mclaren shut the fuck up oscar 🙄
user16 flying cars they said 😔
mclaren how the mighty have fallen
user17 WE THE BEST TEAM ON THE GRIDDDD YUHHH
mclaren i'm gonna hold your hand while i say this
user18 it's been 20 years since i've seen my husband 😞 (admin won't post pictures of lando anymore)
mclaren your husband is ugly as fuck
landonorris what the fuck!
mclaren get off your phone loser
user19 full oscar picture when (i'mbeg ging you please i needg it nowe)
mclaren BAD DOG DOWN OMFG
lilyzneimer i would argue you were the best part of miami
mclaren YOU ARE SO FINE YOU SHUT YOUR MOUTH BEAUTIFUL GIRL 🤭
oscarpiastri GET AWAY FROM HER YOU FREAK 🤺
user20 y/n being unprofessional on the team page, who's shocked
mclaren and the world kept spinning
user21 we all know who was really shit here (looking at you lando)
mclaren it's not funny when you do it.
landonorris when she defends you 🥴
mclaren i'm telling a trusted adult danielricciardo
danielricciardo what the fuck makes you think i can be trusted
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The image flickered onto the screen as the broadcast began. Lando, clothed comfortably in sweats, a cap, and his streaming headphones, looked briefly off camera to where his guests sat waiting to be introduced.
He glanced up at Streamlabs and was shocked to see he had upwards of 30,000 viewers. He had only just started the stream and many people had likely not even gotten the Twitch notification yet. He shook off his shock and plastered on his usual smirk.
Everything is fine. I am totally and completely fine.
"Welcome, welcome. How are you all doing today? There's a lot of people here already. What's the special occasion guys?" He joked, being met with a scoff from the girl to his left.
Everything is not fine at all.
Lando almost never felt nervous when he would stream. After all, he was just playing game with his friends, the chat comments streaming through at a speed he could barely read. Even then, being in Formula One for so long meant he was used to being watched, his every little move being observed nearly constantly since his debut in 2019.
And yet all it took was her presence and suddenly he was nervous. His palms were sweaty, his heart was beating at a mile a minute- honestly you would think he were racing. How could he be expected to be funny and charming when she was here. She never seemed to struggle much in the department. It was almost entirely natural for her. Being perfect was like breathing air to Y/n he suspected.
As he watched the chat messages stream past even quicker on his monitor, he finally caught Oscar's gaze out of the corner of his eye. The younger man quirked a brow at him. What's your problem? His teammate seemed to say. He ignored him. Stupid Oscar and his stupid opinions and his stupid, uncomplicated love life. Lando envied the Australian most days, but now he just wanted to punch him straight in the jaw.
"Alright, it seems like most people are here already, so I'll just get started. I'm sure you're all wondering who my special guests are. The suspense must be killing you surely," He teased his audience. He ignored the completely accurate guesses in his chat.
Was he so predictable that it could be assumed it was either his teammate, Y/n, or Max were his special guests? Or was this a more unfortunate warning sign that he was just plain old boring.
"Seems like most people in chat were smart enough to figure it out! Please give a warm welcome to my guests! The lovely, stunning, awe-inspiring Y/n!" He cheered as the girl groaned, rolling her chair forward so she was behind him and within the frame of the camera.
"Oh and also Oscar's here," Lando added boredly, voice almost entirely monotone. Oscar scoffed loudly and he shot into frame kicking Lando's chair roughly, almost knocking him over and startling a laugh out of the girl behind them.
"Your an asshole mate," Oscar scoffed. Lando didn't hear him. The melodic laughing in his ear from Y/n was quite frankly the only sound his brain could process.
Who knew a laugh could sound so beautiful.
Who knew I could be so god damn embarrassing, Lando thought miserably.
"Guys do you see what I have to put up with!? How I get any shit done around here is a wonder," Y/n scoffed, "Anyways, welcome everybody, this is my stream now." Lando squawked indignantly.
"Excuse you, your in my home!"
"Yeah, unfortunately," she muttered with an eye roll and Oscar laughed.
"You should be grateful! Although these aren't the circumstances I was hoping to have you here under for the first time," Lando said with a completely unsubtle wink.
Y/n grimaced and Oscar doubled over with the force of his laughter.
"Viewers I am so sorry, please leave now, I have no way to muzzle him and apparently I can't sensor him," Y/n scowled.
"I fear he might enjoy that," Oscar muttered with a shake of his head.
Oh you motherfucker, Lando thought. Talk about subtle.
"If it was you, I probably would," Lando said to the girl and she planted her palm into the center of his face and shoved him lightly.
"Oh gross, cooties or STDs or whatever it is you men carry," Y/n shook her hands off and fake gagged.
"EXCUSE ME!" Lando shouted as Oscar nearly fell out of his chair.
"You're excused!"
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Y/n was holding on to her sanity by a thread. Or whatever was smaller than a thread... a hair or something. They had been answering fan questions for nearly 15 minutes already and Lando had decided today would be the day he would do nothing but flirt with her incessantly. He was like a child with a question or dog with a bone; He wouldn't let it the fuck go.
The sound of text-to-speech beginning dragged Y/n out of her thought spiral.
"Lando, what is your favorite video you've ever filmed?" The question asked.
Oh brother, Y/n thought. She looked at Oscar and he only laughed. How helpful.
"Probably the water TikTok challenge," Oscar hummed in agreeance.
"Why?" Y/n asked in confusion. She realized belatedly that asking Lando anything right now was probably a bad idea. She had set herself up this time.
"I don't know, I'm just a personal fan of anything that involves your hands in my hair," He smirked and she rolled her eyes. Her stomach flipped as she looked at his eyes. How could such a stupid, stupid man have such nice eyes (and lips, and teeth, and-).
"Well that's interesting," She smirked back, leaning her body toward him, ignoring the way she was blushing down to her chest. Her ears felt hot. It was hard to focus when she felt like she was burning alive, an unfortunate side effect that seemed to come with the irritating Brit in front of her.
"That was my favorite too," she added and Lando's eyes widened. Oscar looked at her in confusion over Lando's head.
"Really?" Lando asked, suprise clear in his voice. His smirk fell away for only a moment, but it was long enough for Y/n to notice.
Poor little Lando Norris, she thought. A bit too easy to read, this one.
"Yep," she grinned, before letting her face fall. "I'm a big fan of anything that means I can drown you." She responded in a monotone voice. Oscar cackled. The poor guy had hardly been asked any questions. Y/n found she didn't feel too bad anyway. The asshole was enjoying her suffering far too much.
Y/n knew the chat was going wild at their interactions, but she didn't really find herself caring. Maybe this was a bad look from a PR stand point, but then again didn't they always say "any press is good press."
Y/n wondered if the idiots who said that had ever had an inappropriate attraction to their asshole of a coworker, who just so happened to be public figure with fans who were becoming more aware of the tension with every day that interacted.
Probably fucking not.
Y/n watched as Lando's faux upset face cracked into a smile as he began to laugh heartily. She couldn't help but smile. Y/n was finding it hard to hold onto whatever grudge she had before. Maybe Lando Norris and his perfect smile, and his stupid jokes and his charming attitude weren't all that bad. Maybe, just maybe.
But they had absolutely no affect on her. None at all.
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liked by maxfewtrell, oscarpiastri, and 38,924 others
tagged landonorris
ynusername monaco post-gp (help me this guy is stalking me i can't get rid of him help hel
11,209 comments
user22 damn he took out my girl mid-sentence 😔
user23 Y/N POSTED LANDO?? AM I DREAMING?? AM I HAVING A STROKE??? OH GOD AM I DEAD
user24 girl calm the fuck down
user25 DOES THIS MEAN THE BEEF IS OVER
ynusername yes! (he has a gun to my head)
user26 LANY/N SHIPPERS WE RISE ONCE MORE
user27 get it together, they've posted together ONCE
user28 is lany/n in the room with us
user29 "lando and y/n getting along isn't real, it can't hurt you!" OH REALLY
landonorris i had other plans but i cancelled them to be your tour guide, you're welcome
ynusername me when i fucking lie
oscarpiastri do my eyes decieve me
ynusername shut up oscar
landonorris yeah shut up oscar
user30 couples that fight their friend together, stay together
ynusername i can and will block you 😃
user30 oh.
oscarpiastri no it's fine i didn't want to be invited
oscarpiastri i totally hate the ocean, it's not like i surf or anything
oscarpiastri looks boring, would've hated to go on a boat
landonorris other than the fact that i lost my flip flop in the ocean, it was fun i guess
user31 good job lando this came off exactly as nonchalant as you hoped king
ynusername HAHA LOSER YOU LOST YOUR SHOE
oscarpiastri I LOST SOMETHING ONCE 😞
user32 close enough, welcome back brocedes
ynusername literally what is the correlation here
user32 idk leave me alone
user33 um so this is actually insane
user34 i screamed so loud my neighbors called the cops because they thought i was being murdered
user35 can you be normal
user36 this might be the first original experience
user35 no, not original, just embarrassing
user37 i want to be excited about this but it feels so sinister
ynusername good, it should be
maxfewtrell never in my 23 years of living could i have expected this (lando messaged me to tell me what he was doing today)
user38 posting a comment is optional
maxfewtrell i have fomo, can i live
user39 lany/n shippers all around the world cheered
user40 oh you different friend!
user41 onto something ❌ on something ✅
user42 and the crowd is... the crowd is leaving??
user43 my crew lets go
user44 "war is over" we all say in unison
oscarpiastri not likely 💀
user23 HELLO OMFHADFSLJ
danielricciardo oh so you can hang out with him in monaco but not with me
ynusername sorry babygirl 😔 i didn't mean to abandon you
danielricciardo ew never fucking mind
maxverstappen1 i live in monaco too! hope this helps
ynusername i knew that already! hope this helps
maxverstappen1 oh.
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ynusername posted to story!
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(caption: he won't leave me alone, this is sick)
17,822 replies
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landonorris posted to story!
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(caption: she's trying to convince me it's cold out... girl no it is not)
24,006 replies
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I AM SOOOOO SORRY THIS TOOK 5 MILLION YEARS TO BE UPDATED!! i am hoping to be more consistent moving forward, but my schedule is a bit of a mess with school. hopefully i'll be able to get some requests fulfilled soon as well though!
most importantly, thank you so much for all the love and support on this fic!! the amount of comments, asks, and dms asking about updates was staggering and it makes me so happy that you all like to so much (: receiving such positive feedback for this fic has honestly rejuvenated my love for writing so much, and i can't express how much the support means to me.
please keep leaving comments and dms with your thoughts, i love reading them <3 hope u enjoyed!
-
𝙩𝙖𝙜 𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩
@lemon-lav @slutforpopculture @m4rt10ne @urfavsgf @sadsierra2 @96jnie @sltwins @poppyflower-22 @alliumiae @livelovesports @liberty-barnes @the-holy-trinity-l @iliwyss @awritingtree @redpool @elliotts1one @velentine @chaoticmessneutralplease @5sospenguinqueen @charizznorizz @2pagenumb @mxdi0 @cwiphswmwasohmm @tremendousstarlighttragedy @lnspipedrm @itseightbeats @tinycoffeeroom @woozarts @personwhoisther @a-beaverhausen @love-simon @annabellelee @ravisinghs-wife @chezmardybum @greantii @weekendlusting @monserelates @sapphiccloud @halleest @deamus-liv @gigigreens @morenofilm @laneyspaulding19 @lanireadss @dear-fifi @moldyshorts1997 @oliviarodrigostan13 @eugene-emt-roe @ilivbullyingjeongin @im-a-ghost666
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kingkat12 · 3 months ago
Text
affair (roman godfrey x reader)
WARNINGS: 18+, piv sex, oral sex (female receiving), dub-con, Roman using his powers for bad shit, angst, cheating, toxic relationship, justice for Peter omg
summary: when your ex-boyfriend shows up at your door, how are you supposed to push him away?
word count: 5,136
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"No, please!-- We need to talk!" 
Roman forced a foot in my door to make sure I wouldn't close it on him. He was wet from the rain, his usually styled hair sticking to his forehead as he panted, desperately pleading for me to hear him out. "I made a huge mistake," he breathed, regret glossing over his green eyes. "Could you please just hear me out?"
This was definitely not the most ideal situation to be in-- my boyfriend, Peter, had just left my apartment to go home and get ready for his early shift, so I had gotten ready for bed. And I certainly wouldn't be dressed in my pyjamas and slippers had I known that my ex would show up at my door looking beyond frantic. My mind raced with uncertainty, filled with endless questions and doubt; what was he doing here? Was he drunk? Why was he doing this now, after two months of being broken up? "You-- You need to go," I didn't have the time or energy to deal with the mess Roman always dragged back into my life, especially now that I was finally happy with someone else.
Worst of all, I knew for a fact that Roman had someone else too. I knew he was seeing some woman with long, blonde hair whom I refused to stalk for my own good, so why on earth was he here? The question lingered in my mind, but I had to remind myself about the one thing I had the answer to at the moment; I needed to close the door on him now. 
Upon hearing my words of rejection and feeling the door press up on his foot in an attempt to force him out, Roman wedged his arm between the door. "Let me explain," he pleaded, chest heaving. "I just ran seventeen blocks in the fucking rain to see you, could you at least spare me a minute?"
As if that was enough of a justification to show up out of the blue? "No one asked you to do that. I certainly did not," To say that I was pissed off was an understatement, but Roman's pleading eyes were making me sick with guilt. He looked like a lost puppy of sorts, and it was certainly not helping my restraint. The hand I had on my doorknob felt like it was starting to lose blood because of how hard I was holding on-- I couldn't let him in. I shouldn't let him in. 
"I know," Roman eventually said, moving his wet hair out of his eyes. "I know you don't want to see me, but I just... I needed to see you."
"... I think you should go back to your girlfriend," I started to push at his shoe with my slipper, preparing to slam the door in his face. "You shouldn't be here."
It didn't take long for Roman to figure out what I was doing, and it became apparent that he wasn't going to go down without a fight. It didn't take much strength for him to grab the door, forcing it wide open, staring down at me with a damning look of desperation I hadn't seen in any man before. "Just a minute," he breathed. "Please let me say my piece. If I don't, I swear I'll die."
I didn't enjoy this one bit-- coming to my doorstep, threatening to die if I didn't comply? I had forgotten how manipulative he could be. Being with Peter had shown me that Roman's behavior in our relationship had been beyond toxic, and I could see it clearer than ever as he stood before me now. "You're not going to fucking die," I grumbled, feeling myself grow annoyed with how he was throwing himself back into my life, completely uninvited. "Roman, it's almost midnight, maybe this manic behaviour of yours will go away with a good night of sleep?"
Frustrated, Roman tapped his fingers against the door. "Now you're just making it hard, as always,"
"And you're being crazy, as always," I mumbled, shifting my weight from foot to foot, a sense of restlessness taking over my stance. "Could you please leave? We did this back-and-forth thing months ago, I'm not interested in doing it all over again."
In true Roman fashion, standing face to face with rejection, he didn't know what to say or do. I could recognize his patterns now that we weren't together, and it was so damn typical of him to attempt to distract me from what was making me mad; "I remember those," he said, nodding toward my slippers. "Good to see you've kept them."
I knew he was distracting me, so why did it work? Sighing, I shrugged; "They were expensive... Wasn't going to throw them away just because you picked them out,"
Letting go of the door, knowing he had tranquilized the danger of getting it slammed in his face, Roman leaned against the frame in a James Dean-esque fashion. He let out a dragged-out breath, eyes rounding out; "I've missed you,"
His words snapped me out of my daze, and I immediately pulled away from the door with a groan. "Ugh, Roman, you need to go!" I turned my back to him, walking further into my apartment, my instincts telling me to get as far away as possible. "I'm finally happy with Peter, and you have no right to show up at my door just because you're bored!--" My trail of words came to a halt as I suddenly heard my door close; I knew I was fucked in an instant. My heart trembled at the recognition of the sound of the lock turning, realizing I was in for a long night. Fuck. I turned around, holding my breath, watching as he took wary steps towards me. 
"One minute," Roman said, voice low and unsteady. "That's all I ask." 
"No!" I took a few steps back, not daring to get too close. "You can't be here! This is completely inappropriate, Roman, I have a boyfriend! And I know you have a girlfriend too, along with a huge fucking drinking problem!" 
Roman sighed, a silent declaration of his frustration. "I'm not drunk," he said, gaze falling to the floor. "I just... I've come to realize that I can't live like this anymore. I want to be with you."
I clenched my fists tightly in a futile attempt to quell my agitation, but my hands continued to shake. "That's too bad," I said, a sinking feeling taking hold and clinging to me. "I'm not doing this with you again. I'm not getting up in the middle of the night to look for you, wondering whether you're either dead or drunk in some alley. Not when I have Peter."
Exhaustion drugged Roman's movements, every movement slow, every breath. It was clear that the mention of Peter was an unpleasant reminder that we were over; his shoulders slumped, the weight of guilt settling upon them. "I haven't had a drink since the day you left me," he said, his sincere eyes finding mine. "I want to be good for you... I want you. Every second of every day." 
At this point, I had taken so many steps back that I had hit the wall. It was getting a little harder to breathe, and I ended up hyperventilating-- I couldn't do this. I could still feel Peter on my shirt. Everything about this was wrong. "You need to stop," I breathed, stepping away from the wall and wandering further into my living room as I grew restless. "Please stop. Don't do this to me."
To my dismay, Roman only followed; "I'll leave her," he pleaded. "I'll leave her if you tell me to, I'll do whatever you want! I should've fought for us, I should've done so many things that I didn't do... It keeps me up at night that I let you go. I can't sleep, I can't function, I need you to know how this pains me!"
"No, I don't need to know that!" My steps came to a halt, and I pivoted on the heel of my slipper to face him. "You put me through hell, and now think you can just show up like this! Don't you think I have enough emotional baggage from you? You think I don't have enough or something, so you come here to unload some more? What the fuck am I to you, a loading dock?!"
Roman let out a harsh sigh; "Is that a serious question?" he asked, brows weaving together in frustration. "You are everything. I see that now!"
I was already exhausted from the day I had just had, and I barely had any energy left to fight with Roman. This was what we did-- we fought, we fucked, then we made up. However, this time was completely different, and it was throwing me off my course; we couldn't fuck and make up this time. But it was clear that he hadn't shown up to fight, so what on earth was this?
"Well, it's too damn late!" I groaned loudly, hiding my face in the palm of my hands. This was way too overwhelming. When the love of your life shows up at your door telling you everything you've ever wanted to hear, you want to rejoice-- not cry? My eyes burned with the tears that begged to be set free, distorting my vision as I lifted my face from my hands, unveiling that I was swimming in tears. "Do you not see what you do to me?" I breathed, sniffling. "Did you come here to drive me to tears? Do you have no remorse, Roman?"
Roman's lips parted, the worried look on his face revealing everything, his concern written all over. In the quiet moments that followed, the only sound was the echoing resonance of regret filling the space between us with its haunting presence. Our unsaid words were scattered in the air, and it felt like I was suffocating from every apology he could muster up. 
"Let me be happy," I begged, swallowing hard. "Leave now and let me forget. I'm happy with Peter... Please."
It was clear that Roman was debating whether or not to comply. His conscience was gnawing at him-- I knew him well enough to be able to spot the signs. I hated how familiar he was, how it felt like we hadn't been apart at all, like it was yesterday that he had made me feel things I never knew I could feel. The feeling of pure bliss had been like a drug that Roman constantly pumped into me, making me a complete and utter junkie. It had resulted in me falling for him despite how beyond bad he was for me. 
I remembered it all too well. The binge drinking that would go on for days, which often had him disappearing off of the face of the earth. His wandering green eyes used to leave me with such crippling anxiety, I would spend hours crying with a lingering feeling of nausea in my throat. He used to make me so, so sick in every possible way, and my body remembered it better than I did. 
However, I could also sense that something had changed. Here he was; standing in my living room, drenched in rain, clinging onto his last slivers of hope, and I knew I was in for a good run of Roman-mania. 
Of course he would come back to claim what he thought was his. Of course he'd be arrogant enough to believe it would be okay, that I would take him back, and that it would be completely alright for him to come towards me with rushed steps, kissing me with desperation that I had never felt from him before.
Our bodies were pressed together heatedly, Roman's hands on my waist keeping me in place. I could taste our shared nervous breaths, feel the thud of my heart against his, and it was all too much-- I pushed him off of me, tears pooling in my eyes as they streaked down my cheeks. "No!" I cried, my words getting choked. I couldn't believe what he had just done; my heart was actively breaking at the thought of Peter, the loveliest boyfriend I had ever had. I couldn't do this to him. "Roman, you can't just!--"
I hated the warmth that spread in my chest as Roman pulled me back in, sparks igniting in the pool of my stomach as his impossibly perfect lips moved against mine once more. I balled my fist, landing a firm hit against his chest, fighting the ecstasy that always followed any kiss from Roman. But his grip around me was impossibly tight, not letting me budge. You'd think he'd been starved for months with the way he was kissing me with hunger unmatched any other moment I'd ever shared with him, completely taking my breath away. Like this, I could almost believe that I had been on his mind in every waking moment, ravaging through his veins like a burning ache-- I couldn't lie and say that he hadn't been on my mind either.
No one could match Roman; not even my sweet, sweet Peter. I hated it with every fiber of my being. 
The only thing I hated more, was that I never wanted him to stop. 
"No," I cried against his lips, my fingers gripping his wet shirt, bunching it up, unsure whether to pull him closer or push him away once more. Was it maybe that he sensed how much I wanted this too that made him allow himself to continue?
Lightning struck in the distance, illuminating my apartment with a flash as my tears rolled down, mixing in with our kiss. No matter how wrong I knew this was, it felt like my soul was slowly leaving my body and giving itself to him once more; I knew I was dealing with a force outside of anything I could ever control. The love I had for Roman was all-consuming, crushing, devastating-- I could barely bring myself to fight him. "Stop," I breathed in between kisses. "Don't, Roman--"
My breath hitched as I realized my back was now pressed against the wall, and Roman pulled away barely an inch; I could feel the soft tickle of his breath beneath my nose, his fingers now moving through my hair as we breathed each other in. "Leave him," he whispered against my lips. "Let's try again."
My heart had become like melted wax in my chest, making it painful to breathe. "We'll crash and burn all over again," I breathed, feeling the salty traces of my tears on my lips. "We'll kill each other, you know this."
"Let me die by your hand, then," Roman connected our foreheads, closing his eyes. Like this, I could almost believe him, I really could-- he had actually missed me, hadn't he? "A death by you would be a death worth dying."
I felt my lower lip quiver in a sob; I wanted him more than anything in the world, and I had an inkling that he knew it better than I did. I couldn't allow myself to feel all the feelings I had bottled up in our time apart, knowing it would break me and lead me right back into his arms. 
But Roman was insistent-- "I love you," He whispered it as though it was a secret he had been keeping for a thousand years. I could barely accept that this was real; the words I had wanted from him our whole relationship were being spilled out like a consolation for my pain. 
I knew there was no reason for me to fight anymore; Roman knew me too well. He knew that this was all I had ever dreamed to hear, and he knew exactly how to use it against me. Unsure whether he was telling the truth or not, the emotions I had let fester deep within came rushing through the floodgates, making it impossible to do anything but feel; the love I had for him, the feelings that had never left me, the burning sensation of need and hope coursing through my veins. 
So, I didn't fight him when he kissed me once more. I didn't fight the arm he snaked around my waist, pulling me flush against him, and I didn't fight the rush I got from finally being reunited with him in this way; I had wanted his back mouth against mine since the second we were over. 
My conscience gnawed at me as Roman pressed himself up against me, but my guilt didn't hinder me from letting my fingers run through his wet hair, giving in to the engulfing infatuation I had with him. As his hungry kisses moved down my jawline and to my neck, I dared to inhale a shaky breath; I was getting dizzy from the rush of feeling him close to me like this, grabbing my waist, running his hands up my body as though he had no self-control at all. 
The inner corners of my brows turned up, giving in to the crushing feeling of relief and sadness, closing my eyes as I held him tightly against me. There was so much I wanted to say, to do, but I couldn't bring myself to push him away-- not when it felt this good. Not when his hands dipped beneath my shirt, grazing at my bare skin, drinking me in as though I was water. It didn't take long for Roman to get my shirt off of me, and I could taste our shared breath along with the thud of our combined heartbeat as it got tossed to the floor.
Roman's fingers pressed themselves into my skin, getting reacquainted after our time apart. I hadn't realized that I was tracing my hands up and down his arms, mindlessly relishing in the familiarity; I had missed him dearly, and I couldn't bring myself to lie about it any longer. My hands went back up into his hair as he kissed down my chest, my breaths getting short and choppy as I allowed myself to bask in the feeling of his lips against my body. 
"We shouldn't," I tried, the memory of my boyfriend lingering in the back of my mind.
Roman hummed against my skin, now kneeling before me. He grasped at my hips as he pressed a wet kiss against my lower abdomen, making my breath hitch. "Push me away, then," he murmured, his wet tongue tracing where he had just kissed me; it was impossible not to shiver. 
He knew he had control. He knew, that bastard knew so well-- I couldn't push him away. I was never able to do it before, so how was I supposed to do it now? I felt my tears dry up, the familiar ache between my legs pooling, threatening to run over. As if by instinct, my hips rose from the walls, begging for him to finally do something. 
Roman's grip on my hips tightened, pushing me back in place. Something about the growing smirk on his face had me questioning everything; what was I doing? Was this just a ploy for him to get laid? A big, dark part of me didn't care at this point. The fingers I had in his hair loosened as he hooked his fingers in my pyjama pants, dragging them down with a satisfied look on his face. Roman wasted no time, humming as he leaned forward to press a keening kiss against my dampening underwear.
My breath hitched, my back arching off the wall in a knee-jerk reaction-- I had missed this more than I should've. There was no passion like this with Peter, although he was sweet and considerate. But Roman was so all-taking, so consuming, I couldn't do anything other than let him do whatever he wanted to do to me. He pulled my underwear to the side, laving his tongue against me as I whimpered, tasting me. Roman's big hands grabbed my leg, forcing it over his shoulder, pushing himself closer to my sex with an aching need. 
"Roman," I tried, my guilt mixing in with the pleasure. "Don't--" All other words suddenly fled my mind as his lips sealed around my clit, sucking at me in a way that had me crying out in shock, my vision nearly turning black.
Just as I thought I would faint from the flood of emotions, Roman came back up after taking his time, breath heavy against my lips. "Still want me to go?"
My eyes glossed over, meeting his. Thunder and lightning struck outside again, lighting up my living room, and allowing me to see the traces of my slick around his mouth. Something about it was just too scandalous-- I couldn't believe any of this was happening. But we'd gone too far to go back now; "No," I breathed, slinging my arms around his neck, pulling him into a heated kiss. 
As I tasted myself on his lips, Roman picked me up, and my legs automatically wrapped around him as they always had. He didn't need to watch where he was going as he knew my apartment almost as well as I did, walking away from the wall and laying me down on the couch with ease. 
It was hard to focus on the true nature of what was going on when it felt so damn good. Everything happened in a blur; I couldn't recall how or when Roman had lost his shirt, when my underwear got pulled off and discarded, or how I had allowed this to happen. Roman's cock pressed into me slowly, still trying to be sincere despite the complexion of our encounter. With every thrust, my chest arched up against his, back curving as I whimpered at the stretch. 
My hands rested on Roman's neck as he kissed me once more, stealing my breath with every roll of his hips. The part of me that was outraged with the both of us withered away as I continued to moan beneath him, coming out in broken cries. I couldn't focus on the infidelity I was committing when he was inside of me like this, his hands wrapped around me, moving me against him. 
"Fuck, I've missed this," Roman breathed against my neck, letting out a laboured sigh of satisfaction. "All of you... All of this..."
Everything about this was dizzying; maybe this was my mind playing tricks on me, maybe this was all some dirty dream? But I could feel myself clinging to him, wet and dripping-- there was no way this wasn't real. "Rome," I cried, the old nickname slipping past my lips. 
I could feel him give in to a shiver, ears perking up. "That's sweet," Roman kissed my cheek, driving his cock further into me as I whimpered, no longer used to his length like before. Even as he whispered my name, needing me, I briefly thought of how less intimidating he was at this moment-- this was the part of Roman that would show up in my dreams, caress my cheeks as I cried, and fall asleep on top of my chest after a long day, clinging to me. I had spent so much time resenting him, that it was weird to see him so... human. Desperate.
I let out a short gasp as I suddenly realized I was almost folded in half, my legs creasing at his arms. One thing hadn't changed; Roman would always take his liberties with me, no matter the circumstances. It somehow bothered me that I was being fucked with the same amount of love as before; did he have no guilt? No thoughts of his girlfriend at home?
Fuck-- Peter!
As I remembered my boyfriend, I felt my anxiety rise. My hand shot up to Roman's chest, lips parted, ready to protest and push him away-- but as I met his eyes, the green of his irises practically engulfed my being, and not a sound would come out of my mouth. "Shh, it's okay," Roman said, voice calm, reading my panic. "It's just me... It's okay."
Something about his voice was so calming, soothing, that a certain sense of relief washed over me-- I could recall several similar instances. This had happened before; it was almost as though a greater power controlled me every time I looked into his eyes for too long. 
The hand I had on his chest went up into his hair, pulling him forward to capture his lips in a kiss. I was caught off guard as Roman pulled out only till the tip of him remained, letting out a soft gasp against him as he pushed back into me to the hilt. I felt him hum against the kiss, sighing in satisfaction. "There you go," he said, words softer than ever. "Just relax, enjoy... Let me take care of you, just like I used to."
Despite how hard my guilt was eating at me, I still felt ridiculously calm, unable to do anything else than comply. I could only moan, shivering with pleasure at the feeling of being driven forward against the couch with every thrust. 
I wrapped my arms around Roman, kissing his broad shoulders, giving in to the pleasure. I had missed this, I had missed him... All my feelings started to ball up, crying out against his shoulder at the realization of what was about to happen. "Rome, I- I can't--"
"Gonna?" His question came out along with a grunt and another snap of his hips, repeatedly pushing himself into me. 
I couldn't hold it-- I really, really couldn't. Something about the nature of our get-together mixed in with my climax, and I let my head fall back down against the couch as I cried out. It was so hard, so intense, that I had forgotten to breathe; I hadn't had an orgasm like that since the day we broke up. 
I knew I was screwed. I knew it.
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
As everything started to dawn on me, my breathing got heavier-- what had we done? I pulled myself closer to Roman on the bed, completely spent, seeking comfort from the person who had dragged me into this mess in the first place. 
Eventually, Roman broke the silence; "We should do porn," he mumbled, taking another drag of his cigarette. 
What? I looked up to glare at him; "Fuck you,"
"You just did," Roman smirked, glancing back at me with a rather proud expression on his face. "But I'm serious. We're damn hot."
I groaned; this was not what I needed to hear right now-- not after we had just finished round three. Roman reached out for me with his free hand, pulling me even closer, lazily running his fingers through my hair. I embraced him as I sniffled, burying my face in the crook of his neck. I was so tired, feeling my sore legs ache as I realized that up close, Roman's hair smelled like cigarettes as well. He might've quit drinking, but quitting cigarettes was a no-go in his book.
"We're horrible people," I mumbled, my words muffled up against his skin, taking in his presence. There were many times I had dreamed about us being reunited, but never that it would end up with me cheating on Peter.
Roman shrugged, turning to press a kiss against my temple. "I told you, I'm leaving her. We're fine," 
Nothing about this felt fine. I propped myself up on my elbow, watching him as he laid comfortably in my bed, almost done with his cigarette. Even after convincing me to commit such a heinous act against my boyfriend, he looked like an angel. Fucking Lucifer. "... Don't do it. Don't leave her."
"What?" Confused, Roman's green eyes rounded out. "Why not?"
I sighed, shaking my head. The decision I had made for myself was hard to air out, and I knew that protests would ensue; "I'm not leaving Peter,"
But despite my predictions, Roman got quiet. His wide, empty eyes stared right back at me, lips parted as though he was ready to speak. "... You're kidding me?" he finally said, the hurt in his face mixing in with a smidge of anger. "After this, you're going to stay with him?"
"He's good for me!" I tried, sitting up properly. "Roman, please, just-- I don't know what came over me, but this was a mistake... We're not good for each other, you know this!--"
"You're kidding me?" Roman repeated, clearly in a state of shock. 
This whole ordeal was making me feel like the second worst person in the world, with the first place going to Roman. I buried my face in my hands, realizing that I was trembling. "Please don't make this harder than it already is," I pleaded, inhaling a shaky breath. "You had no right to show up here... I was fine just the way I was, and I'm going to go back to that."
I heard Roman shift, sitting up as well. His long, slender fingers wrapped around my wrists, prying my hands away from my face. His green eyes burned into me, the fire intent on destroying whatever it could catch, and I knew I had to look away before it was too late. "I'm leaving her," he said, intertwining his fingers with mine. "I love you. I'm leaving her."
It took a lot of willpower to shake my head, rejecting his words. "Don't," 
"I will,"
"No, Roman, I don't want you to!--"
My words came to a halt as Roman leaned forward, capturing my lips in a rushed, desperate kiss. I did my best not to cry again, having previously burst into tears in the middle of round two-- I couldn't do this. This wasn't good for me. Peter was good for me.
I felt Roman's hands leave mine, and before I knew it, his fingers twisted into the hair at the nape of my neck, forcing me to look at him. His eyes searched mine, looking to find some shred of doubt to hang onto. "Do you love him?" I barely had time to open my mouth to speak before he cut me off; "You wouldn't have done this if you did."
My tears came back, pressing up on my eyes with a burning fire, begging to be set free. "Please, just... Please just go,"
Roman let out a sigh, leaning forward to press his lips against my forehead. "Call me when you change your mind,"
"I won't,"
"You will," Roman's hand slid out of my hair, caressing my cheek with his thumb, his green eyes finding mine once more. And just as I was about to look away, I felt that familiar calm wash over me as the colour green took over my vision, the numbing of my thoughts ensuing; there was no way I could fight it. I didn't stand a chance. 
Roman's lips quirked into a shameless smirk; "You will,"
a/n: (should I do a pt.2? hihi)
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yayll · 3 months ago
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~ a little something about Dazai and his tantrums ~
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"... Hmph. I hope you crash this car and we both die."
The moody brunet mutters under his breath as he looks out of the car window, his arms crossed over his chest, refusing to look at you. He was awfully cute whenever he did this, and oh so vexing at the same time. You learned to acclimate to this very early into your relationship with him.
"What? All I said was that I was going to be driving us, Osamu!"
Your laugh is light hearted as you focus on the road ahead, dismissing his whiny behavior for another one of his... Melodramatic performances, his co-workers once called it. He finally turns to glare at you, but a wicked glint in his narrowed eyes betrays him... You can tell he's more unserious than anything. Playful, even. And besides, he would never actually be upset with you, he just can't stop thinking up schemes to make you roll your eyes at him. Your smile alone makes his thoughts impure, shame on you!
"Yeah, well... I feel dehumanized! overlooked! neglected..." He feigns offense, sighing heavily as he slouches into the passenger seat. He places a bandaged arm over his face, groaning softly but still side eyeing you to check if you're looking at him or not.
"You do that all on your own, silly."
"Excuse me? I'm expressing my grievances and you're calling me silly? Oh, so that's what this is really about. You don't love me anymore! What a cruel beauty you are..."
He gasps, now burying his face into the crook of his elbow, pretending to weep as he mumbles incoherent nonsense about how much you mistreat him. In actuality, he was giddy as hell. You park the car, and turn to face him, a coy smile flashes on your lips.
"Nobody said anything about not loving you. Now, what can I do to fix this, Mm?"
He lifts his head up, suddenly composed and shrugging his shoulders as if nothing ever happened, speaking in a matter of fact voice that somehow deepened.
"Well, definitely don't let me drive. I don't even have a license. I'd kill us in an instant."
"... Then why argue about it?!"
"Because you look so beautiful when you're yelling at me. And you make me feel alive. Anddd, because I'm bored~"
He flashes you a cheeky grin, it's dreamy and sickening. His eyes twinkle with mischief as he leans over the seat and flicks away a stray hair from your face. Dazai then taps the tip of your nose, slowly dragging his finger down to your plush bottom lip, gently flipping it over to expose your teeth. The pad of his finger gently swirls against your canines, and finally, retreats... He knows there's a time and place for his worship prodding. His eyes travel back up to yours, and you can swear they look darker than usual. If only the Port Mafia could see what became of the Demon Prodigy... A new man reborn! A man who loves!
The rest of the day is spent with you indulging Dazai, something along the lines of 'reparations' is what he calls it. Only he knows how much it means to him that you can handle him during his calculated outbursts... or rather harmless tests to prove you won't leave him at the first sign of trouble. He needs you to be in it for the longhaul, just like he is. It's deceptive, but no one has to know! He just loves you and these are simply counter measures. You'd probably call him selfish, but as long as you call him at all, he doesn't give a shit. Because in the grand scheme of things, he really can't drive, and you two are inevitably endgame.
You're the ball, and he's your chain.
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reallyromealone · 5 months ago
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Can I request an smiley x reader omegaverse like omega reader is Mikey’s sibling. Like the first time that smiley sees him he instantly knows that’s his fated omega but he has to go through Mikey to try and court reader plz and thank you.
Title: lover
Fandom: Tokyo revengers
Characters: Sano family, Toman, smiley
Fic type: omegaverse
Pairings: smiley x reader
Warnings: male reader, reader insert, omegaverse, Omega male reader, protective Sano siblings, fluff, cute, soulmate
Notes:
🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸
Mikey was always an overprotective brother, scaring off anyone who went near his siblings and (name) especially as the Omega was a cutie that grabbed everyone's attention much to his older brothers annoyances.
The Sano brothers always chased off suitors, keeping him away from gang shit but sometimes it was unavoidable.
"(Name), what are you doin' here?" Baji asked as (name) sat at the steps of the shrine doing his homework "Shinichiro doesn't need help at the shop and home was boring so Mikey dragged me here" (name) explained simply as mitsuya nodded "you never been to a meeting, have you?" He asked and (name) shook his head "nyope but Mikey would rather die than have be go out and about and Iza is busy with his own stuff so.... Here I am"
(Name) Met a few Toman higher ups, though (name) was usually helping shin or grandpa so this was one of his first times meeting a few people here.
(Name) Was curious as two motorcycles pulled up, a set of twins hopping off "so why the hell are we here?!" The pink haired one yelled out and (name) was entranced immediately, a small chirp leaving his lips and the smiling teen whipped his head around to see the Omega and a rumble left his throatbas the world halted for them, (name) feeling the need to get closer to the Alpha.
"Alpha..."
"NOPE ABSOLUTELY FUCKING NOT!"
(Name) Snapped from his trance as Mikey looked ready to murder at the lovestruck look his brother was giving Smiley, he didn't want any fucker near his brother and definitely not one of the biggest Fuckboys in the gang. "(Name)! I will bring you home I swear to god!" Mikey barked and (name) rolled his eyes "oh please! I'm not doing anything!" He fired back and the blond groaned annoyed "just stop making eyes at my captain and smiley stop looking at him like that or I'll kick your ass!"
That did nothing, Everytime smiley shot the other a flirty glance, (name) smiled all flustered and that just egged the Alpha on further.
"I swear to fucking god!" And (name) went back to his homework.
"He is NEVER going to a meeting again!" Mikey said angrily as they got home, Izana glancing up as Emma and shinichiro made dinner "what happened?" The teen girl asked, tilting her head slightly and (name) pouted "I didn't do anything! Mikey is being dramatic!" (Name) Huffed as he sat beside Izana "Iza! Make Mikey stop being a drama queen"
Shinichiro looked at Draken who was leaning on the door frame "ken, what happened?"
"(Name) Met his dated pair" he said simply and the room was silent as Izana moved to sniff his brother "you don't smell like (scent)" the white haired man accused and they looked at him expectantly and (name) pouted as grandpa made a grunt "when do we get to meet em?" The old alpha asked and (name) huffed "after I get to meet him!"
"So you are trying to kill me!" Mikey cried and (name) rolled his eyes.
It wasn't till the following week that (name) saw smiley again, the two halting as (name) went to get groceries for dinner "it's you!" (Name) Was over the moon as the older kawata looked at him with a flirty grin "watch out now, Mikey might kick my ass" he teased and (name) huffed "he wouldn't dare" oh Mikey would but (name) in turn would throw shit at him.
Smiley walked with (name) around the store as they chatted, falling so easily into a routine as the Alpha kept his fated pair close as the Alpha paid for the other "you don't have to!" (Name) Looked guilt as smiley shrugged "not gonna let my mate pay for shit"
The two walked to the Sano house as shinichiro was reading a magazine on the engawa casually "OI! one foot apart you shits!" The eldest barked out and (name) pouted, the other two brothers poking their heads out and Mikey glared as Izana stared coldly at the elder twin "(name)! Didn't I say no dating till I'm dead!" Mikey grumbled out and (name) rolled his eyes "I'm older than you!" (Name) Fired back as the two squabbled leaving the eldest siblings to judge smiley "this house is traditional when it comes to courting, if you want to be with him it's not gonna be easy"
Shinichiro wanted his younger brother to date a nice alpha not.... Not smiley.
Anyone but smiley--- I'm almost anyone because he's seen the people his brothers hang out with.
Maybe like mitsuya, yeah mitsuya would treat him well.
And thus started the courting process, all dates had a a chaperone of one of the siblings, the two never getting to be alone (unless you count the times smiley snuck into (name)s bedroom so they could makeout) and the brothers judged any gift that smiley got (name) "looks cheap" they said but (name) was giddy at anything his mate to be got him.
(Name) Got him little trinkets and a cute bracelet set that the Omega seemed very proud of and Smiley wore the matching bracelets with pride.
"Where ya taking him"
"What are you gonna do?"
"Hope you booked a reservation for three"
Smiley was ready to throttle his close friend and his family but knew they were just worried about their pack Omega dating though thank fuck grandpa Sano was chill with him and actually seemed happy that (name) found his soulmate.
"These goofs are all planning on moving out, (name) is the only one who is interested in running the dojo" grandpa Sano said randomly while Smiley waited for him to finish getting ready "you're a good kid, I know what my boys do so I know you can hold your own" he continued and smiley for once wasn't so well... Smiley but instead Nahoya.
"So what do you want to do, after school?"
"My brother and I want to run our own ramen shop, we have a name for it and everything"
The old alpha hummed, seeming pleased with his response "hardworking young man, (name) is a strong young man, doesn't like to be tied to his omega status despite his brothers attempts... Let him do what makes him happy" the elder man asked him and nahoya nodded "if he wants something, I'll do whatever I can to provide it"
"Good, now (name)! Hurry up! You're making this young man wait forever!"
"I'm coming I'm coming!"
Grandpa Sano watched how much love was between them, he hoped he could get to live to see them get married.
Maybe even to see a few pups.
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sytoran · 1 year ago
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𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟎𝟎𝟖 — 𝐓𝐈𝐓-𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆
kinktober day 008 | milf!natasha x beefy!amab!reader
your wife thinks you've been acting a little off lately. she tries possible solutions to lighten your mood, but eventually it comes down to the 'hard' truth that you wanna fuck her tits.
cont. reader has a cock, teasing, possessiveness, praise word count. 951
kinktober masterlist || main masterlist
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"Okay, that's enough."
Natasha states firmly, folding her arms as she looks you over. Despite being married for nearly three years and having two kids, Natasha's finding it hard to understand you now.
You've been off the whole day, constantly looking disappointed and guilty. There's this nagging feeling in the back of Natasha's mind that tries to coerce her into assuming the worse, but she knows better than to let those voices take over her.
"It's nothing," you try to mumble, shying away from your wife's insistent gaze. Your eyes are anywhere but Natasha, flickering, and she swears you're flustered.
It's strange. For someone usually so headstrong and confident, it's definitely bizarre to see you acting like this.
"Tell me what's wrong baby, please," Natasha tries again, trying the gentler approach, pressing a hand on the side of your face, trying to make you turn your head to face her.
It only seems to make things worse, you desperately trying to back away and Natasha trying to move closer.
Just by your luck, the back of your leg knocks into the sofa in the midst of your escape, and you stumble. Natasha catches your wrist, attempting to suspend you and prevent the fall, but you end up pulling her down with you anyway.
That's how you end up laying on the sofa with your wife on top of you, her knee unintentionally pressing into the prominent bulge between your legs, now brought into the limelight.
There's silence for a moment, and you want to crawl into a hole and die, but your wife only lets an amused smirk grow on her face.
She lets a hand trail over the tent in your pants, lightly, and you shudder, letting out a hollow exhale.
"Why were you… embarrassed to tell me?" Natasha asks, cautiously, eyeing the ever-rising boner in your pants. She can’t help the warmth slowly rising between her legs.
You look away ashamedly, before woefully admitting your remorse. "Well, I thought you didn't want to like, have sex anymore. I mean, we've had two kids, and you're always busy, and you- I mean, you never seem to like, initiate it, or whatever. Not like we used to.” your mumbling nearly goes unheard, but Natasha’s keen ears prick up every word.
She tilts her head in a concerned fashion. “Baby, we have children in the house! I can’t just jump your bones every hour of the day like we used to when we were in college.”
"Yeah, I know. This was stupid,” you sigh, more so disappointed in yourself than anything. You lift yourself up from the sofa. “I'm sorry for worrying you, baby. You don't have to-"
Before you can even finish your sentence, Natasha’s pulled off your pants in record timing, hands encircling your thick, throbbing cock. All the air is knocked out of you, as you’re pushed back onto the sofa, and you’re quite sure your heart stops beating for a few moments.
“Nat? What are you- what are you doing?” you question lowly, biting back a gasp when your wife begins to rub her hands up and down your shaft through your boxers.
“Just because I haven’t said it, doesn’t mean I don’t want you inside me, dorogoya.” Natasha grunts, tugging off her own sleeping shorts. “the kids are sleeping upstairs, so everything’ll be fine if we’re quiet. anything you want in particular?” she asks, casually.
Noting the sudden change in the glint of your eye, Natasha smirks, knowing she had a definite answer.
“Shit. I- uh, I’ve kinda had three wet dreams about fucking your tits.” you confess, looking up hopefully into your wife’s viridescent eyes.
Her eyebrows raise. You chuckle awkwardly. Your cock, is still embarrassingly hard.
Before you know it, your wildest dreams have been fulfilled. Natasha is now pinned down under you, chest now exposed to the cool night air. your cock is stuffed in the valley between her tits.
You’re just so obsessed with them, because they’re hers. Soft mounds, so easy for you to wrap your bigger hands around and press kisses all over. As much as you love the little rascals that are you and Natasha’s children, you can’t help but miss the days when you could casually lift up her shirt and absent-mindedly play with your wife's breasts like stressballs.
But now, in the heat of the moment, with Natasha holding her tits and rubbing them up and down your long cock, you can’t quite formulate any coherent thoughts.
You pin down your wife’s sides after a few more minutes of rubbing. “You’re so good for me, sweetheart,” you groan out, beginning to thrust between her tits, slow and deep.
The edge of your cock peeks out at the top of her mounds with each thrust, and it takes everything in Natasha not to moan out loud. She didn’t think she’d be so turned on by this, by your hazy eyes lost in lust, staring at your cock disappearing between her tits.
You get rougher, unknowingly, hypnotised by the way Natasha’s tits shake. Your pre-cum gets smeared all over her tits, and you’re just about to lose it completely.
When Natasha presses a kiss onto the head of your cock, when it emerges through her breasts one last time, you come undone with a long groan, lost in hallucinogenic pleasure.
Your seed goes all over your wife’s ample assets: her pretty tits, her mouth and her face. Natasha smiles breathlessly, looking at you with glittering eyes. She’s so innocently licking off all the cum at the tip of your cock.
“Sorry for acting like a prick, Nat. I love you.”
“Mhm, I’ll forgive you if you do that more often.”
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kinktober masterlist || main masterlist
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Help! I loved Nerdy Prudes Must Die and am curious about Nightmare Time but don't really have time to commit to watching it all... (a handy guide)
For those of you who don't know Nightmare Time was a series of Hatchetfield one shots that starkid wrote and recorded during lockdown, all of which are of course available for free on YouTube. They go a lot deeper into the lore than the 3 Hatchetfield musicals, including explaining and explore the characters we know and love in more detail, sometimes including shocking revelations.
They also introduce new characters to the Hatchetfield universe, including Stephanie Lauter, Grace Chasity and Pete Spankoffski, who we first met in a Nightmare Time episode.
As they were filmed in lockdown the recording quality is somewhat variable, but Season 2 has a much higher production value than Season 1, and in Season 1 Episode 1 in particular they were very clearly trying to find their feet with it. That being said the actual scripts and content of the episodes is solid throughout.
I've decided to put together this handy guide of which Nightmare Time episodes people might want to check out if they want to learn more about certain things we saw in NPMD.
1) Nibbly - Honey Queen (season 2 episode 1)
If you're curious to learn more about the Lords in Black each of them (bar Wiggly) have an episode of Nightmare Time devoted to them.
For Nibbly, Wiggly's hungriest and pinkest brother that episode is 'Honey Queen' in Season 2 Episode 1.
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It explores a very entertaining rivalry between Linda Monroe (from Black Friday) and Zoey (the annoying barista from Beanie's in TGWDLM) that naturally turns very very dark. We also get to meet Linda's husband Gerald who she spends most of Black Friday on the phone to.
As a heads up Nibbly doesn't appear until, shall we say, the end of the episode (with Hatchetfield there's always a twist) and he's not in the super sexy form from NPMD but it's a very strong episode and does give a bit of background to Nibbly's deal.
2) Tinky - Time Bastard (season 1 episode 2 part 2)
If you're curious to learn more about this yellow motherfucker played by Curt then you're in luck because he's in my personal favourite episode and one with a lot of interesting lore surrounding it.
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If you're curious about what he means when in NPMD he says 'I could add another Spankoffski to my set', Time Bastard is focused around Pete's brother Ted (from TGWDLM) and the dodgy dealings of CCRP.
It's an extremely clever episode, with lots of really fun twists. It's unfortunately season 1 so has slightly lower production quality, but in terms of raw scripting is just outstanding and has some really interesting reveals about people in the Hatchetfield universe who may not be who we think they are...
Also worth noting that this is in the same episode (Youtube video) as a different Nightmare Time episode 'Forever and Always'. Most episodes work like this where you have two different stories per episode, they absolutely can be watched independently but usually have some sort of thematic link (in this case it's the things we do for love and how they will inevitably be thwarted by CCRP being sketch).
3) Blinky - Watcher World (season 1 episode 1 part 2)
And if you're curious about the one who's always watching you, he's actually the first Lord in Black we meet through Nightmare Time, in the very first episode when Bill and Alice Woodward (TGWDLM) go on an ill fated trip to a spooky theme park.
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Again this is from the first episode so production quality is low but it's a really solid episode and a very interesting look into these characters.
While this is our first meeting of a lord in black in Nightmare Time, I don't believe he's actually referred to as such, and the concept of the Lords in Blacks being introduced as Wiggly's brothers comes in at point 5 on this list.
4) Pokey - Yellow Jacket (season 2 episode 4)
You've already met Pokey through TGWDLM (yep that was his blue shit that destroyed the world!), but you won't truly realise how fucking scary he is until you meet his incarnation 'Otho' in Yellow Jacket.
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A solid episode exploring Lex, Hannah and Ethan in a lot more detail, and in a world and lives where (at least at the start of the episode) things seem to be a lot more stable for them than in Black Friday.
And yeh as I've already mentioned Pokey is fucking s c a r y in it. Also you remember James Tolbert's character, Charles that gets a little cameo in Hatchetown? Well he's the main human antagonist of this episode!
We also learn a lot of lore about 'the gift', the thing that makes Hannah able to do magic.
5) The concept of the Lords in Black generally - The Witch in the Web (season 2 episode 3 part 2)
If you're curious about why everyone's been posting pictures of those evil teddy bears and now even more confused that you've met them all as fucked up high school students, the Witch in the Web is the episode where we're first introduced to the 'they don't care bears' as a set.
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This is a really cool episode, again about Lex and Hannah, but it also exploring Uncle Wiley (from Black Friday) in a lot more detail.
We also first meet two characters called Duke and Miss Holloway who together form the ship Holloduke that if you were following any of Starkid tumblr during lockdown you will definitely have heard of. They're really cool!
Here we also meet Webby, Hannah's imaginary friend in Black Friday, who turns out to be the lord in black's sister: a queen in white. And she's dope.
6) Pete Spankoffski, Stephanie Lauter and Grace Chasity - Abstinence Camp (season 2 episode 2 part 2)
We first meet the now beloved characters of Pete and Steph and the slightly less beloved character of Grace in an evangelical abstinence only camp. The episode centers entirely around these characters and plays excellently with tropes of the horror genre.
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It also has the best song in all of Nightmare Time and it's up to you to decide if I'm talking about 'oh my god it's the axe-man' or 'virginity rocks' (it's both, the answer is both).
That's pretty much it in terms of Nightmare Time episodes that cover things from NPMD, but in case you're curious here's a quick run down of what the rest are about:
The Hatchetfield Ape Man - season 1 episode 1 part 1. Hidgens makes Ted pretend to be a Tarzan style half monkey, half man thing to con Angela Giarratanna out of her inheretence.
Watcher World - season 1 episode 1 part 2. See bullet 3 above. Alice and Bill Woodward go to a theme park and shit hits the fan.
Forever and Always - season 2 episode 2 part 1. Paul and Emma get married. Things are not as they seem (there are robots). One of my personal favourites.
Time Bastard - season 2 episode 2 part 2. See bullet 2 above. Ted fucks with time travel and things end very badly for him. Best episode imo.
Jane's a Car - season 2 episode 3 part 1. Turns out the soul of Tom Houston's ex-wife Jane, who died in a car crash, transferred into the car. This somewhat complicates his budding relationship with Becky Barnes.
The Witch in the Web - season 2 episode 3 part 2. See bullet 5 above. Hannah Foster's having nightmares and somehow a witch and Uncle Wiley are involved. Luckily a good witch (Miss Holloway) is there to try and help.
Honey Queen - season 2 episode 1. See bullet 1 above. Linda Monroe and Zoey Chambers compete to win the Hatchetfield honey queen beauty pageant and things spiral wildly out of control. My personal favourite episode from season 2.
Perky's Buds - season 2 episode 2 part 1. Emma's finally achieved her dream of owning her own pot farm. Just her, her non-binary farm hand Ziggs and some very evil birds.
Abstinence Camp - season 2 episode 2 part 2. See bullet 6 above. Pete, Steph and Grace go to a retreat in the very creepy woods to learn one way or another about the perils of pre-marital sex.
Daddy - season 2 episode 3 part 1. Remember Sherman Young (Jamie's weird creepy guy from Black Friday)? Turns out there's something very weird going on with his mum. We also learn a lot about Frank Pricely (owner of toyzone from Black Friday) in this episode, who turns out to be a very interesting character.
Killer Track - season 2 episode 3 part 2. Miss Holloway must take extreme action to save a young girl and then the whole world against an evil song that kills anyone who listens to it. We learn a lot more about Holloway as a character and she is soooo cool. Another favourite episode of mine.
Yellow Jacket - season 2 episode 4. See bullet point 4. Hannah seeing her sister struggling to provide for them financially decides to find a way of using her power to earn some spare cash.
Hey Melissa - episode aired only on a livestream, type it into youtube and it'll come up. If you've ever found yourself asking 'what if Mariah's secretary character from the start of TGWDLM was really into dom pup play and Paul Matthews was her little pup bitch and she was also a horrific out of control serial killer?' then a) are you Matt Lang because if not I'm concerned? and b) by god this is the episode for you!. I personally really enjoy it I think it's super funny, but obviously heavy trigger warnings for abuse and sexual content warnings (there's a reason they didn't put this in the real series). Fucking excellent tho.
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carmenized-onions · 6 months ago
Text
I Want To. | Wellness Check
logline; Such is life, you go from not being needed at The Bear today to being more needed than you ever have been.
[!!!] series history, this is the fourth; First, Second, Third
portion; 4.7k+
possible allergies; a dash of Tony's former paramedic background (and just medical shit in general) in this one, so, a sprinkle of post-trauma stress (and her usual yikes psyche). Mikey comes up a bit, as usual! despite the ops, we ball.
pairing; Carmen ‘Carmy’ Berzatto & Fem Reader (pretty unavoidably gendered episode, mb non-fem folks)
we'll talk after babe, have a good time w/ this one.
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Falling asleep was easy— par for Carmen fighting to keep his 6:30 am alarm on. When he finds out you don’t have a plug on his side of the bed and he has to charge his phone on your side, he turns it off. Cute.
Well, there’s also the part where you had to ask if he was okay because it sounded like he wasn’t breathing and it turns out —He was not breathing— He then pointed out that it sounded like you weren’t breathing —You were not breathing— Both of you thought the sound of your lungs would bother the other, so you opted not to use them at all. Turns out, counterproductive; you notice each other’s absences pretty well.
But besides that, it's easy. Carmen isn’t an awful bedfellow. He’s not super shifty, he doesn’t tug the blanket, he doesn’t roll all the fucking way over to your side, or anything like that. He’s honestly concerningly still. Is he annoyed that you’ve gotta toss and turn a little to get comfortable? Probably. He's probably dreaming of you exploding right now, he’s so annoyed. He didn’t make fun of your ages old build-a-bear plush nor it’s Cubs jersey, so that was nice. Pity, probably.
...If Carmen wasn’t here, he knows he’d be stirring and kicking and probably sleep-walking to his oven to light it on fire. But he is here. Where kicking would hurt. Where stirring would wake you. Where a fire would cause more anxiety than relief because all your plants and projects would die. Where you washed his hair and told him that taking care of people doesn’t feel like a lot of work to you. Was it not a lot of work, to take care of his brother? Was it worth it, to you? Probably not. How could it be?
He wills his body to not fucking move because if he does it's going to ruin everything. He's going to ruin everything.
He wakes up at 6:30 on the dot, alarm or no. He’d be concerned if his body functioned any differently. But he can’t get to his phone while you’re sleeping in his way and you’re so comfortable. You’re clutching a bear that’s undeniably on a losing team and you’re at peace with it. He’s trying not to make a metaphor out of this in his mind; alas, it’s already there. The only thing he can do is go back to sleep and dream about killing the teenage boy in his head before he can escape again and call you pretty.
It's around ten when you wake up, you try not to wake him when you turn to grab your phone, but the split second of motion makes him flinch like he’s about to get jumped. “Relax!” You hiss, but like, soft, whispered. “I’m doin’ the fuckin’ Wordle, not smothering you with a pillow.”
“You do the Wordle?”
“Oh, fuck you—”
“The first fuckin’ thing you do in the morning is the Wordle?”
“And I do the Crossword too, bitch, what of it?”
“…I like Connections.”
“I fuckin' hate Connections.”
“Alright, damn!”
The Chicago accent in both of you is stronger in your rasping morning voices. As is the laughter. You roll onto your stomach to get closer to him and let him see your screen. Neither of you have entirely woken up yet and that means it’s the perfect time to do a puzzle. If you don't focus on this puzzle right now, you fear you will get too comfortable in this idea of domesticity.
“C’s in the right place. Nothin’ else though.”
He’s the one that figures out its Cumin. You pretend not to be mad about this. You’re furious. Of course, it’d be a spice on the day Mr Food Guy sleeps over. Bullshit.
When you finally sit up, stretch, and say, “I’m just gonna shower real quick ‘nd—”
He’s at a breakneck speed to reply, “I’ll make breakfast.”
“Oh, you cook all the fuckin’ time, you don’t have to—”
“I want to.”
You blink, then shrug, the man likes to cook, c’est la vie. “Who am I to refuse?”
He looks far too happy about this, as though he’s won a lottery. A lottery of manual labour. He rolls out of bed, grabbing his back pack stuffed with yesterday’s clothes before leaving you to your own devices. In a literal sense, too, since you get a text. Ugh.
‘Gigi called in, can you reach?’
You would prefer not to reach, but this is capitalism.
‘When's the shift?’
‘6:30 to 12:30’
Why couldn’t something else at The Bear be fuckin’ broken today?
‘yeah i can reach’
‘that’s my girl, red tops today, see u’
You have also won the lottery of manual labour today. Look at you and Carm, luckiest people alive. Something like that. Alright, go shower and be normal about the fact that there’s a Michelin Star Chef making you breakfast in your kitchen. And he’s prett—
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“You make your own bread.”
“I do.” You sit at your own little breakfast nook, waiting to be served. Towel hung around your neck post shower. You’d offer to help, but based on his urgency to cook for you, it’s gonna be a no. Plus, the gift on the table you’ve got for him is going to piss him off enough, can't poke this bear too much. He's already given you a mile. Too many idioms.
“I like to think in another universe I am a homesteader who makes her own soaps and renders tallow n’ shit. But I settle for growing basil and making sourdough in my shitty little Chicago apartment for now.”
“I like your apartment.” He hums, though amused. He turns and sets your plate—the one black plate— in front of you with a small smile. This smile immediately falls when he pushes the plate towards you and you push a travel bag of toiletries towards him.
“Fuck is this?”
“I don’t want to hear any complaints, Irish Spring.”
“How d’you know I use Irish Spring?”
“It’s all five of your routine, it’s going to be pungent— Now listen.” You pick up the bag; you’d dug through your sink cabinet and found a dollar store pack of plastic travel bottles, unused from cancelled trips of yesteryear. You've decanted your own products for him. It's fine, you buy jumbo sizes anyways...
“Shampoo, conditioner, face wash—They’ve even got labels.”
He takes the bag from you, setting it down on his side of the counter, begrudgingly. Though he hasn’t particularly paid it much mind, tunnelled on something else entirely, “Do you not like Irish Spring?”
"I didn't give you a body wash, you can still use it for that one purpose."
"Yeah, but do you not like Irish Spring?"
"...I think it's fine."
“Fine?”
“I’m more of an Old Spice fan.”
“You don’t deserve breakfast—” He pulls your plate, you pull it back.
“All I said—” “Thinkin’ I smell like shit—” “Did not say that—!” “Just cause you use the fruity stuff—” “I smell good! Deny that I smell good!” “You smell fine.” “Wowww—Whatever, do the thing.”
“Bruschetta with a breakfast twist.” Ah, that makes him give you the plate back. His kink is explaining food. “Sourdough toasted, topped with fresh basil—”
“Courtesy of me.”
“Courtesy of you, yes. Tomatoes, bacon glazed in balsamic, and you didn’t have parm so I used feta. And then, y’know, over medium egg on top.”
“You’re very good, Carmen.”
“Oh, I—Uh—” You haven’t even tried it yet. You’re telling him he’s good for the sake of the effort he’s given alone. He needs an antacid. “Thank you.”
It’s redundant to say his food is good. But what else can you say? It’s a fucking perfect open face sandwich. But he’s eating it with you, and half of it’s your own handiwork, and all of your pantry, so you leave your praises purely reaction based, unsaid.
You're honestly a little distracted, reading too hard into the act of him giving you the black plate and taking one of your shitty plastic ones for himself. Time to talk.
“Itinerary for today?”
“Gotta talk chaos menu with Syd before opening, then, well, running the restaurant all night… And then I’ll—I’ll go home.”
“Yeah? You can come back here, if you want to.” Thank God you took a bite in time to hide your selfish disappointment. It’s good for him to go home, but then he’s not here. Real Catch-22.
He shakes his head, “I think I’m good now. Thanks, though. What’s—What’s uh, your plans for today?”
“I’m gonna drop you off wherever you’re going, n’ then I’m gonna go shopping for Syd’s gift—”
“It’s her fuckin’ birthday or somethin?” It’s a delight how immediately panicked he is by this. You're also thankful because he's so distracted it means you won't have to tell him the rest of your plans for today. You'd like to keep that life separate. For as long as possible, at least.
“Nono, it’s just, I didn’t get her anything for her opening night and I wanna change that. I’ll get you something too.”
“You don’t have to—”
“I want to.” The very idea of waiting for his response is freaking you the fuck out, so you’re quick to clear your voice and add. “I’ll give you my number, in case you end up needing to crash.”
“Yeah, yeah, okay. Ey, text me your invoice too.”
You take both your cleared plates to the sink, and the lie is swift. You've gotten a lot better at that, in the past year.
“Oh no worries, your sister already covered it.”
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It is 6:30 and your life is over. Kidding. Unless? You dropped off Carmen at the train station hours ago and, to use his words, ‘it’s hit’. He’s at The Bear and there’s nothing for you to fix there— So you’re not.
You’ve only been there like three times and yet it started to feel… Like your thing!
Like, like you’d just come in everyday and… Dunno, fix something... But it’s not like they’re gonna have a crisis everyday. Especially not ones that Fak can't handle himself if needed— There's no way he's gonna last at hosting, anyways. You’re now realizing the unrealistic dream— Possibly more unrealistic than homestead you.
Speaking of, Homestead You would probably throw up, if she saw the you you’re looking at in the mirror right now. You look good. Objectively, you know you look good. The mug is stamped. Your pants are black, high-waisted, and give you an ass. The bright red leather corset top is… Chafing, but it looks good! It's a sweetheart neckline so you have to take off your long rope chain necklace from Mikey and shove it in your pocket— Which is fine and doesn't feel bad at all. And listen, listen, being an on-call bottle girl is good money!
And you might get put on bar tonight! You don’t know for sure if you’re gonna have to juggle around lit up bottles for a bunch of fucking geezers!
...
God, fuck, it’s 10:20 and your life is over.
This group of geezers have been fucking annoying and fucking Cherry wouldn’t get off fucking bar even though you literally covered for her last week and these stupid grandpas asked if gratuity is included— No fucking shit! Did you take their card and put a 40% tip? Yeah, maybe. Fuck them! They’re too fucking rich to notice! And they took three hours to leave! Gonna bash this champagne bottle over his bald fucking—
“Ey! That’s a face I remember.”
You hear your name— Not Tony, not Chip, not Cousin. Your name.
You turn to see, oh fucking hell, let God kill you—
“Uncle J!~ Good to see you!~ What a surprise! It’s Jack, here.” Jack of all Trades. It was cute at the time of sign up. Your smile is bright, fake, strained, and beautiful.
“Been too long, really.” Cicero isn’t a bad guy—Correction: Cicero isn’t a bad guy, to you, but as Mikey once put it, he’s a fuckin’ ball buster and in your case, you’re one of the few people beneath him that he asks favours from. Always wants free labour and your expertise. And he always has a habit of asking for favours the second you need one back. But you don’t need one right now! So it’s fine! Everything’s fine!
“Do your Uncle a favour,”—Fully not your Uncle—“Could you pair me and my friends here with a good red?”
You let it go that they’re having fish and asking for a red. Stupid thing to get hung up over right now. You make a commission of it anyways; you just pick the most expensive bottle. He won’t know the difference. The Bear would know the difference. Carmen would notice the difference... Alright, relax.
While pouring glasses, Jimmy whispers to his compatriots and one by one they all peel off. It is almost alarming how quickly this group of men turn and leave without a second thought, taking their glasses with them.
You raise your brows and look at Cicero. “Ah. This is the moment where I sit?”
He nods, gesturing to the booth. “This is the moment where you sit.”
You slip into the booth, sitting across from him. “What do you need?”
“Right to the point with you.”
“I hate suspense.” You shrug.
“You liked Mikey.”
What the fuck?
You bite your inner cheek, hard. “Don’t say that shit.”
“I liked him too,” He says it solemnly, like your mutual grief is a proper apology. He takes a long sip of his stupid red wine. “Did you hear? Cousin Vinnie and Mira are gettin’ hitched, finally.”
“I have no fucking idea who Vinnie and Mira are.” You take the glass when he hands it to you, taking a sip. Small. You gotta drive home, after all.
“Really? It’s a big wedding—Destination too, in New York—”
“I hate to remind you, but I was friends with Mikey, not his family.” Not his biological one, at least. The Beef, sure. But you literally only met his siblings two days ago. “What’s a wedding gotta do with me?”
He bristles, and finally cuts it short. “Around three hundred guests, seven-hour shift, open bar—” “Oh, for fuckssake—” “Listen—”
“It’s an easy gig, I’ll fly you out for it, it’s a month and a half away, you’ll get to attend a big fuckin’ Italian wedding— Which will be a shitshow, certainly, so free entertainment; and Michelin Star level catering, kind of.”
You squint. Kind of? “You got Carmy in on this shit?”
“You know ‘em?”
You nod, pressing your elbows on the table, “We’ve recently become acquainted. What d’you got on him for him to cater a wedding?”
“He’s eight-hundred grand in the hole.” “Fuck!” “He gets thirty off for catering. Smart boy, said yes.”
Christ, you massage the bridge of your brow with one hand and pull out your phone with another to check your calendar, you might as well see if you can even entertain the idea. You don’t need a favour right now, maybe you can bargain and get him to actually pay you for it, this time.
“I dunno, Uncle J…”
Oh.
28 unread texts from Syd.
3 unread texts from an unknown number— Probably Carmen.
9 missed calls from Syd.
Uncle Jimmy, always, always, has a fucking way, of asking for a favour when you need one…
You slam your phone, screen down on the table, straightening your posture in your seat. “I have demands.”
He motions for you to continue, taking his wine glass back. “You always do.”
“You and your friends are gonna tip a hundred percent tonight.”
“That why you give me a 2016 Fisher?”
“I like to think ahead.”
“Smart girl.” He shrugs, palms of his hands out. Which means yes.
“If Uncle Lee comes up to the bar I’m throwing a fork at him and leaping over the counter.”
He chuckles, “Thought you 'didn’t know family'.”
“I remember what I'm told.”
His amusement fades quickly, remembering first hand. He nods. “…You’re allowed to jump him if I’m watching first.”
“And you’re friends with my boss, right?”
“We’re acquainted.”
“I’m gonna punch out now and you’re gonna smooth that out for me.”
He perks up, amused, glancing at your phone, “Somethin’ come up, Chip?”
“Don’t call me Chip.” He wants to poke at you, just a little bit more, but there’s a rattled look in your eyes that he’s so rarely seen that he lets it go.
He waves his hand, shrugging, “Be safe. I'll send you the details. December wedding, remember.”
At the end of the day, Cicero isn’t a bad guy to you, someone who loved his nephew as much as he did.
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You’re running to your car while you dial back Syd. You don’t have time to read the texts, all you need to know is that it’s an emergency. She picks up just after the first ring.
“Syd what the—” “Code blue!”
You almost fall on your face and eat asphalt. For a flash, you’re in the back of an ambulance being handed a defibrillator at the age of 22, surrounded by faces just as scared and young as you. Then you’re back in the parking lot, slotting the key into your car door because the fob doesn’t work. It’s never worked.
“S-Someone’s having a fucking heart attack!?”
“What?!”
“That’s what fucking code blue means!”
“Oh my god! Sorry! No, I was just saying the thing that scares doctors the most!”
“Yeah, I’m fuckin’ scared Syd!” You slide into the driver’s seat and slam your car door shut. You take a deep breath, white knuckling the steering wheel. “…I’m-I'm sorry for yelling! Where are you, what’s going on?”
“The—The Bear, the restaurant.” The second you have a location you’re revving off.
“Nat locked herself in the office—” “Like trapped?” This shit again?
“No, no— Like she locked herself in— She did this like two hours ago and I thought she was just taking a breather— But we’ve closed and, and like almost everyone left and she’s still not coming out— And she blocked the door inside— and— And I think she’s trying to hide that she’s basically shrieking in pain every five minutes.”
You take a long time to register anything she’s just said. Her tone is as panicked as you feel on the inside. You’re only now registering the ambient yelling of Richie and Carmen in the background.
“…Did—Can you hear me?”
“Yeah, yeah Syd, I’m just thinking.” You don’t step on the gas on purpose, it just happens. “A pregnant woman is screaming in pain— in intervals— behind a blockaded door?”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Have you called an ambulance?”
There’s a much more distinct yell in the background from Richie, “No cops!”
Then from Carmen, “No coverage!”
“Yeah…” Syd shakily continues for them, “The insurance is a problem, and Richie said— Motherfucker—” You hear a muffled scrap over the phone before Richie continues on for Syd.
“Er, yeah, Cousin, Sugar keeps yelling that she’s fine ‘n blocked the door, if we call the cops they’re gonna ram that shit down and take her to the loony bin.”
“That’s not— That’s not what paramedics do.”
“That’s what they all do.”
“Richie, y’know, I was a paramedic, right?”
“…You a fuckin’ fed, Chip?”
“Richie, if I was a fuckin' narc you would be in prison by now. I, I— I'll be there in like, like eight minutes, everyone stop fucking yelling at Sugar!”
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You’re there in four. You almost rear end someone and you run every yellow you get but you’re there in four. You don’t park properly in the back, you just drive your car in and turn it off in the middle of the lot. You don’t bother to be let in, you just punch the code in as you remember it. As Natalie told you.
“Oh good you—Oh my, God?” Syd is no better than a man in this moment, going from grateful for your presence to being one intrusive thought away from whistling.
You did not have time to change out of your ...outfit and someone has been hogging your Carhartt. You pass Syd quickly, waving a hand in front of her face. Goddammit, why do your boot heels have to have that incredibly satisfying femme fatale click right now?
“Alright— Relax—”
“Holy shit, Chippy!” Richie was yelling at Sugar through the door along with Carm, but once alerted to your presence is now snapping his fingers. You'd describe him more as impressed than actually attracted to you. “You clean up!”
 “Cousin, are you—” He grabs Carmen’s face, turning it to you— Carmen does of course, immediately slap Richie’s hand away which of course, means they just start smacking each other's hands. Like preteen girls. “Ey, get the fuck off—” “I just want you to look at a pretty girl, Cousin—!” “Stop fuckin’ touchin��� me!” “Are you looking!?” “I—”
“Everyone shut the fuck up!”
You silence the room. You’re thankful most of the staff has left by now since it’s well after close. It's just Carmen, Syd, Richie, Tina, and Fak for some goddamn reason...You can't be mean you're handymen, you have to stick together.
“I look different from the usual jumpsuit, yes, we get it, can we move on? Pregnant woman?”
Syd is the first to speak, “…Were you on a date, though?”
You blink and roll your eyes all at once, twisting your head to her, “Syd—”
“It’s good to see you getting out there, baby.” Tina, deeply unhelpful in this moment, puts a hand around your shoulder. Oh to have a mother’s judgment when she’s not even your mother.
“O-kay!” You drag on the ‘kay’, clapping your hands together, “Everyone, just get your thoughts out in the next five seconds and then we’re moving on.”
“Chippy, I cannot believe you’ve held this out on me—” “—I meant it like-like a concerned, did we interrupt your date—” “—The red is unbelievable on you, Cousin!” “I need you to teach me how you do your makeup—” “Can you— can you yell again—?” “Fak!” “Oh, so that’s too much?”
A cacophony, it continues on. Your eyes glaze over, and you’re waiting for Sugar to let out a scream so everyone remembers the fucking point of being here. But then you look at Carmen. Everyone’s pivoted from staring at you to yelling at each other. But Carmen; Carmen is still looking at you. Stupid soft scary eye contact. And his voice is so much quieter than the yelling but it’s the thing that you hear anyways.
“It looks tight.”
There’s a possibility that when you killed the teenage girl inside you that you also killed the feminist. Because there’s a small sub-sect of you that’s upset that he’s not objectifying you right now. That his vision is focused on you. Not the changes. He doesn’t seem to look at you any differently than when you’re wearing a jumpsuit and utility belt, covered in toilet water. This should not be annoying and yet it is.
“It is.”
He nods, eye contact unshifting, unblinking, “You wanna change?”
“Maybe after we find out whether or not your sister is in labour.”
He nods. He takes a second but he nods.
You approach him, rather, the door, knocking gently. Everyone quiets down.
You clear your throat, and once more, the persona is put on, you’re a paramedic, putting on that soft but firm reassuring authoritative tone. “E-M Rescue, I got a call for a wellness check on Natalie Berzatto?”
“Tony—” A groan of pain behind the door, “I am perfectly well! Everyone go home!”
You grimace, you motion with your hand for Fak to hand you a screwdriver— He keeps one in his breast-pocket, even when wearing a suit. Hey, you should start doing that.
“Nat, I’m a paramedic— Or I was—will you please let me in?”
“I don’t— Fuck! —Need a paramedic!”
“Never hurts to do a check-up, Nat.” You speak calmly, like you always did. “Listen, lover, if you don’t open the door, I’m gonna have to take it off its hinges, and we're gonna lose medic patient confidentiality.”
When she doesn’t reply after a good beat, you start to unscrew the top hinge; she can hear it, “Wait, wait, wait— Fuck-Fuck— I’m opening it!”
There’s another series of pained groans as she exerts herself to open the door, and once she does, it’s only by a crack, to look at you and you alone. She’s absolutely been crying. She speaks in a whispered tone. “Just you.”
You nod, handing the screwdriver back to Fak without breaking eye contact with her. “Just me.”
She cracks it open just enough for you to come in. And so, you do. Everyone is, for the first time, too worried about her shutting down to interrupt or yell a complaint.
You close the door behind you, pressing your back to it. You note the toppled over chair by your feet that she must’ve blocked it with. Plus the puddle of amniotic fluid beneath her. Oh fuck.
...
“You wanna talk or do you just want me to check your contractions?”
“I’m—” She shakes her head, covering her face. She half sits on the desk. “I’m fucking— I am not ready for this.”
“Yeah.” You nod. You’re not here to convince anyone they’re ready to be a fucking mother. But you’re here to listen, certainly.
“She’s gonna hate me.”
“Who?”
“Her—!” Her voice is choked, another contraction. You’re silently taking the time in your head. She points to her stomach.
“And— And we just opened, and— And I’m gonna have to go on maternity leave, which is the last fucking thing we need and— and— If I could just fucking keep her in!”
“Natalie.” You put a hand on her shoulder, she finally looks at you. “This is happening.”
“Not help—fu—ll.”
“I know it’s not. This is scary and there are no take backs—” “Very unhelp—”
“Nat, your daughter wants to meet you.”
You squeeze her shoulder; she looks like she’s gonna cry all over again for a completely different reason. “She probably won’t hate you. Who’s to say. But I know you’ll love her. And that’s enough, isn’t it?”
She nods, emphatically, but something is still bothering her. You squeeze her shoulder again. You whisper, so even if everyone’s ear is pressed to the door— Which you doubt, she’s screaming after all, they won’t hear.
“Carmen will still know you love him, even when you're not here.”
She immediately goes for a hug, you reciprocate with a shuddered ease. She sniffs, head on your shoulder. She stays there for a while before letting you go, nodding. “Okay.”
You hand her the tissue box next to her on the table, she takes it thankfully, crushing it in her hand. Another contraction. Oh, that couldn't have been more than 2 minutes. Oh fuck.
You kneel down in front of her, and you’re simply no longer in your body as a person but just the paramedic. You could not be more thankful that she’s wearing a dress today. Awkward requests of spreading legs and pulling off underwear aside, Natalie’s daughter does in fact really want to meet her. Oh fuck.
You look up at Natalie, between her knees, you speak cool, professional. “You’re crowning. This is gonna have to happen here. I'll have someone call your husband.”
You’re so calm that it doesn’t give Natalie the feeling or need to freak out, she just breathes. “Okay. Okay.”
You stand upright. “Do you prefer this office or somewhere else?”
“I can’t— Move.”
“Makes sense. Makes total sense. Okay. I’ll go get everything we need, I’ll be right back. I might send some people in, okay, love?”
She just grunts in reply, nodding, now that she’s not in as much emotional pain, she can entirely focus on her brutalizing physical pain.
“Oh, hey, I know—” You grab her purse, pulling out her phone and ear buds, handing them to her with haste, your calm demeanour is faltering just a bit. “Listen to some music, loud, y’know, chill…” You put the pods in her ear for her. She’s again, in too much pain to tell you to fuck off, and just plays her music loud.
You softly open the door, smiling just a bit too much as you leave, and very softly close the door behind you. Looking at the motley crew before you, your persona immediately falls apart. You really only wanted her to play music so you could scream. “Oh, my fucking God.”
“What’s happening, she good?” What a sweet, stupid brother, Sugar has.
You purse your lips together, eyes wide, shaking your head. “She’s going to give birth in like— Maybe six minutes. Max ten.” Everyone goes to speak in an uproar of panic, and then you slap yourself in the face. Hard. That stuns them silent.
“Alright!” You press your hands over your eyes, “Tina!”
She’s been around this block before, “What do you need?”
“Can you go sit in there with her? Tell her all the breathing exercises and shit? Keep her calm? Coming from you it won’t seem so—”
“Condescending as fuck?”
“Yes, exactly, can you?”
“Gotchu, baby.” She claps your shoulder when she walks past and into the office.
You clap hers in tandem, “Thank you, Mama—Okay, Richie!”
“Yeah?”
“I’m gonna need you to call Nat’s husband—”
“Why do I—”
“Because you’re a fuckin’ dad, Rich, and he will need you!” You’re yelling all pissed, snapping your fingers at him, but he does light up when you say it like that. “I don’t care if he wets his fuckin’ bed, tell him to get here!”
He salutes, walking off, “Aye aye, Cap’n Chip.”
You shake off the sting in your hand, God, you really did slap yourself too hard. You turn to the next targets. “Syd, Fak.”
Syd responds hesitantly for the both of them, since Fak is silently enjoying your colonel persona a little too much. “…Yes, C-Captain?”
“I need towels, a lot of clean towels— cloth ones, like sanitized clean— Warm half in water— And then I need a clean sheet— A table cloth or something, I don’t fucking care, something clean and big that you’re fine destroying. I need sterile sheaths, Syd you get those— Other than that, however they get to me, I don’t give a shit— Just scrub in before you touch anything!”
They almost knock into each other the way they run so fast. You yell after them. “Get the big sheet first, she needs to lay down!”
“Yes, Chef!”
You take a deep breath before moving your gaze onto Carmy. The screaming lead EM in you melts off your shoulders, just for the second.
He asks before you can even say anything, “Yes, Chef?”
“I need you to scrub in and get me gloves and an apron—” “On it, Chef—” “And you’re gonna sit in with me for the birth of your niece.”
He cringes, not to refuse, but just the mounting reality of the situation is dawning on him. His sister is going to give birth to his niece in their shared office of his high-class restaurant within it's first week of open.
But you then tag on, “Carmy, she needs you— Frankly, I’m not the one giving birth but fuckin' I need you. T-There.”
He softens instantly, like tranquilizing— Well, a bear.
“Yes, Chef.”
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I know the opening probably feels so far away by now, but i do want to note that Breakfast Bruschetta is my own recipe that I used to make like every fuckin' day pre-employment. It's so goddamn good. I highly recommend it, babes. It's balsamic with brown sugar dissolved, btw, Carmy's just a quick explainer.
I wrote like a solid 75% of the labour sequence before deciding it just needed to have the breathing room of it's own chapter, so until next time for that one bbs. But I'm excited for it! And also dreading it! A lot of hard conversations combined with giving birth = nightmare to write, but well worth it, i think. Speaking of: I don't believe at the end of Season 2 that Sugar is at the end of her term of 36 weeks, but in our case here, she is. I'm very much so not interested in a very scary premature birth for our girl!! She's okay!! Dw!! I just wonked with time a little, hope that's okay.
And hey, look at that reveal! Bartender/Sommelier was code for bottle service-- Which is a very respectable career, btw, don't get it twisted-- I was critiquing it only in the way I would critique literally any other job: Misery Under Capitalism. And now we've got that fuckin' wedding in the future midst! Ah!!
Anyways please send me your thoughts ad nauseam, I reload my activity feed every 3 seconds to see what you guys are thinking. If you reblog, tell me what you think in the tags!! Yell at me in the replies!! Send an anon in!! I don't bite, I swear <3
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jinjeriffic · 10 months ago
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DC x DP prompt/ficlet
Throwing my hat in the ring with this idea that has been doing the zoomies in my brain for days. The Tim/Danny Accidental Ghost Marriage to Fake Dating to Friends to Lovers AU:
Pariah Dark was a piece of shit. Before his imprisonment, mortals would sometimes manage to bargain with the Ghost King for scraps of power. One of the "standard" deals was to send PD a "Bride" to play with and feed on (because I HC he feeds on fear and pain) and what better way than a little mortal battery that couldn't get away from him? The deal was sealed with a cursed amulet. Now in one instance, the contract was never fulfilled (maybe the petitioner died before he could complete his half) and the amulet was lost. After Pariah was imprisoned and couldn't make deals anymore the knowledge of the rituals needed was gradually forgotten since they didn't work anymore...
Eventually the amulet gets dug up by archeologists (maybe in Egypt or Mesopotamia?) and ends up in a traveling exhibit in Gotham. A Rogue robs the place (Riddler? Two-Face? doesn't really matter). When the Bats show up to foil the robbery, during the fight with the goons a drop of Red Robin's blood gets on the amulet, there's a blinding flash of green light and the amulet is suddenly glued to him.
While everyone is dazed by the ghostly magic flashbang, Fright Knight pops out of a portal, yoinks Red Robin across his saddle and jumps back through the portal before anyone can stop him. Cue the Bats trying to frantically figure out what in the multi-dimensional occult hell happened and where RR went?!
Meanwhile, Danny is disturbed to receive a ghostly missive in his college dorm to tell him that his Mail Order Bride has been delivered to his Ghost Zone Palace and is awaiting him so they can consummate their Unholy Matrimony.
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Danny: Wtf I have to study I don't have time to get MARRIED
Fright Knight: I'm sorry my liege, but according to the laws of ghosts, gods and magic you already ARE
Danny: Wtf. How did this happen?
RR: I would like to know that too
Danny: Oh shit, you're a superhero. Frighty, you can't just kidnap people! Especially not SUPERHEROES!
RR: While that's good to hear, I would really like to know about this supposed marriage..?
FK: I am not aware of the exact details, I was merely summoned to retrieve the Bride of the Ghost King. There used to be standard magical contracts for this, which went into effect when the Bride bled on the King's Token...
RR: Shit
Danny: Hold on, PARIAH got married? Multiple times??
FK: ...but we can always consult the Royal Archivist, if we can dig him out from under the several thousand years worth of paperwork that piled up while there was no King actively ruling...
Danny: Oh ancients, am I gonna have to deal with that?? I have exams to prepare for, dude!
RR: ...the dead still have to do exams? And paperwork?? *horror*
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Some time and explanations later...
Royal Archivist: It took some digging, but I believe I have found the contract in question. You are one Timothy Drake-Wayne, correct?
Tim: Fml
RA: Ahem. The contract was sealed with your mortal blood, as is standard procedure. Congratulations, you are officially King-Consort of the Infinite Realms! Until death do you part, and all that
Danny: Can I see that contract? ...This isn't in English
RA: Oh dear, looks like we will have to schedule your Royal Highness classes in reading cuneiform/hieroglyphics
Tim: Okay, does it say anywhere in that contract how to dissolve it? What's the procedure for a ghost divorce? Fright Knight mentioned the previous king being married multiple times
RA: Well usually, when Pariah tired of a consort he would simply devour their soul...
Danny: Ewwwww I am so not doing that
Tim: I concur. I can't imagine my soul would taste good anyway
Danny: That's what you took from that??
RA: ...but when you die and your soul passes into the Afterlife proper, the contract will be fulfilled. As long as you're not resurrected again.
Tim: Nuts, there goes that loophole
RA: Until then you are the Consort and duty-bound to fulfill his Royal Highness' every whim; ghostly, spiritual, carnal...
Danny: *sinks through the floor in embarrassment*
Tim: Can't he just... release me from the contract? Take the amulet off me or something?
RA: Not without obliterating your soul, no
Danny and Tim: Fuck
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Some time later, while Danny is away consulting other ghosts on possible ways of dissolving the contract, they discover the nasty little clause that if Tim isn't in regular physical contact with Danny the amulet starts draining his life force. To prevent victims from escaping you see... Danny really really hates Pariah right now.
They eventually return to the mortal plane to explain to the Batfam what the hell is going on and that they're still trying to fix it. In the meantime, Danny can't miss any more classes (studying areospace engineering at MIT or sth) and Tim has to stick close to him because of the curse...
Alfred: Oh dear, looks like Master Timothy will have to go to college after all *unflappable British Smugness*
Bruce pulls a lot of strings to fast track Tim getting his high school diploma and let him attend classes with Danny (he's not officially enrolled yet, but Money, Dear Boy). They never know when Danny has to respond to a ghost emergency or Red Robin to a Bat emergency, so they stay pretty much joined at the hip in their civilian lives. Of course there's gonna be rumors. Why did the Wayne CEO suddenly drop everything to go to college? So they make up a story about Danny and Tim having been secret boyfriends for a while and Tim becoming so smitten that he moves with him to Boston...
Cue the fake dates, interviews with magazines, couple photoshoots to really sell the bit... and the two young men gradually becoming friends... and then "Feelings?? But what do I do?? He was forced into this?" etc.
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thecrabbybarista · 3 months ago
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We should talk about The Lords in Black I'm gonna do that right now because I wanna talk about their trope subversion and symbolism and shit.
So obviously The Lords in Black are a subversion of Cosmic/Eldritch horror and I'm gonna explain how using an ant metaphor
So the classic ant metaphor for cosmic horror is to imagine that you're an ant encountering a piece of human technology, right? I believe it's usually a circuit board. The whole point is you're witnessing something deeply incomprehensible and unfamiliar.
The ant metaphor for the Lords in Black is: imagine you're an ant and a teenager starts burning you with a magnifying glass.
It's still incomprehensible, but not in the way the complexities of a circuit board is. If you were suddenly stricken by a scalding beam of light, the only way you could rationalize that is that it was an act of a god. You and your ant colony would invent and fear this god.
The Lords in Black each represent a kind of strange and inscrutable cruelty that the modern world offers, the cursed lasers that cut into our souls, from places we have no power over.
Wiggly is obviously the idol of capitalism. Animalistic desperation, commodity fetishization, and the exchange of money, products, and emotions. All of the things that the other Lords represent stem from elements of capitalism, hence why Wiggly is THE Lord in Black, the leader of his brothers. What Wiggly offers will never be enough. He is what leaves you always unsatisfied.
Nibbly is the idol of the consumption of human beings as products. Obsession with self image and presentability, trends of all kinds, and the beauty and fitness industries. People in the modern age are desperate to be consumable, and some would go to any lengths to do so. This is an attitude that especially impacts women, who feel that they need to wear make up every day just to earn respect. And when we feel the need to change to be respectable, the need to look appealing and to be consumable, the bourgeois eat well. Our quest to look special makes us like any other customer, filling. It's no mistake that the two leads of Honey Queen are women desperate to be noticed and respected. It makes them all the more eager to be eaten.
Tinky is the idol of infinity and repetition. Dead end jobs, middle class suburbia, and the inability to escape one's circumstances. It's no coincidence that the first time we see Tinky is at a wedding, a ceremony dedicated to eternal commitment, or that he's associated with CCRP, a company in which most of the workers do useless busywork all day. When you look at the life you have ahead of you, it can feel crushing. Will you ever have a real career to be proud of, or will you be stuck at this job until you die? Will you ever not struggle to make rent? Will you really love your spouse forever? What if you don't? Isn't it just easier to continue the routine than to address the problem? After Ted is driven to insanity by the Bastard's Box, after he discovers that he can't escape the person he's become, he becomes homeless, one of the most terrifying eternities a person can find themselves in, fully dependent on random acts of kindness to survive while your situation drives you further into insanity.
Blinky is the idol of the panopticon. Gossip, public drama, and unwanted attention. One of the first things Blinky does on screen is sexually objectify a girl who's fresh out of high school, and this plainly displays a consequence of living in a content driven world. There is constant scrutiny and interpretation given to your every action. At any moment, you could have over a thousand eyes on you, whether you want them there or not. The panopticon we live in captures us in moments of time, and turns the person we were in that moment into an object deserving anger, embarrassment, lust, admiration, judgement, or anything else a watcher might assign. But Blinky also targets another fear, the fear that we feel when we can't see the danger, and cannot protect ourselves or those we love. Alice's anxiety that Deb might cheat on her when she's not around are made manifest in Watcher World, and Bill's frustration at not being let into Alice's life are used against the family. We are inclined to both want and fear the panopticon. We hide, and we seek, and we expose.
Pokey is the idol of tyranny. Complacency, sedation, and obedience. The world revolves around the few and uses the many in service of this. We are all expected to fill some role in service to the rich, to work for a corporation and to buy the products of those corporations, and when we cannot fill these roles we are at risk of starving, or being kicked out of our homes. We must join them in their quest for profit, or die. But we must also accept their pacifiers or we will be driven insane. We must choose between complacency or despair in confronting our place in the world as a pawn, as an ant in the colony. Isn't it easier to accept the comforting lies? Your job is important. Corporations give people what they want. People in power deserve their power. People in power are using it well. We are happy. America is great.
These are the magnifying glasses that are being used to torment us, that we cannot make reason out of, that we've made dark gods out of. But this isn't the first time humanity has encountered scorching light from the heavens. When the people of ancient Greece witnessed burning rods of light, falling viciously from the heavens, they invented Zeus.
But we know where lightning comes from now. We know the science behind electricity and its place in the world. We know what keeps lightning away and what attracts it. We can protect ourselves from it.
But there's an important difference. Lightning is natural. It's existed long before we have and it will continue when we're gone.
The unorthodox cruelty of being alive today is not natural. We cannot logic our way into surviving it because it does not operate under a sound logic. But we can make things a little more bearable by focusing on what is sound, understandable and natural.
There is humanity. There are families friends and lovers who would go to the ends of earth to protect each other. As long as we have this humanity, we have hope.
That's why Miss Holloway's deal with the Lords erases her from living memory after her temporary deaths. To have the powers that she does she gave away the power most important to have under the Lord's rule: human connection. The only real thing we have left.
Alice and Bill escaped Blinky's manipulation through the love they have for each other
Emma survived the longest out of any character in tgwdlm because of the genuine hope Paul gave her of a better future
Lex snapped Tom out of Wiggly's control by reminding him of what his son really means to him
Ted couldn't escape Tinky's plan for him because he was too jaded to make a genuine connection with a woman.
Linda was eaten by Nibbly because she didn't have a loving connection with her father, because her father always made her believe that she was never good enough, because this mindset led her to take for granted the connections she did have in her life.
The world no longer cares about us. We have to care for each other. It's the only thing we have left
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