#y'all are just gonna have to deal with it lmao

[toast-in-a-cowboy-hat]

Did another one for Mike so obviously I have to do yet another one for Ty

Part 1

Part 2

Part [?]

Part 4

[the-spooky-children]

Can't stop thinking about unhealthy co-dependent teen!fireskulls..

[floridazcrazy]

Yall I'm thinking...

Oliver Bearman realizing hes falling for his rookie, wonderkid teammate; who happens to be 17 yo girl! Kimi. If they do get together Ollie realizes they're on borrowed time together until they both reach f1 (not if), where the stress of hiding a relationship and representing such heavy teams would tear them apart. lmao

Everyone saw how brocedes tore themselves apart because they loved each other, but not enough to lose. girl!lewis ofc

Smth Smth bearnelli brocedes parallels. girl!Kimi expected to be the next verstappen-esque prodigy whilst carrying a flop era merc and Ollie is in tifosi hell.

girl!Dino needs to come get her man b4 I do smh *shakes head* speaking of I was thinking of her w/ either Paul or Ollie. Paulito bc they were attached at the hip at prema and Ollie bc he deffo used to like her or still kind've does neowww. Do y'all understand?/ No ? IDC!!!

[cookinguptales]

sorry hang on tarot requests might be delayed by a few minutes I'm sending a furious alumna email

[dandyshucks]

if u want to get ahead of the game and block some nasty ppl before they ever have the chance to interact w you, you can just go thru the likes and rbs of a blatantly nasty post (e.g. a post catering to pedophilic pairings) and just ... block everyone in there. esp with the likes, this can effectively block people's main blogs so hopefully they won't even have the chance to see any of your posts. this can help curate your experience on here a little better sometimes!

[justonefeather]

Ok y'all I'm posting this here because I have fucking nobody I can talk about this with easily but I need to know if I'm crazy or not like I feel like I'm not in my right mind for thinking these things but maybe I'm semi reasonable I don't know anymore

So I'm starting to really be down bad for a guy I play XIV with. And it's driving me up a wall. But I don't think he's uhh like reachable? Like I don't think it's work. But I'm not sure if he's very gently (or.. at a low level? Idk how to word that) flirting with me or not. I'm so bad at knowing these things. Anyway

So, background for those who don't play. Healers have a skill/button called Rescue. It targets one other player and brings their character to where the healer is. It's jokingly called the baby leash because it's used to bring people standing in bad to a safe place. There's also an meme about a Craigslist post of some guy looking for other guys to jack off with and there's like crystal necklaces, so any "tether" can be a "JO tether".

Now we fuck around in voice chat ok? Like the whole group, we have fun, we are silly. But like this uh. He fucked me up a bit tonight. He "rescued" me because we were chatting and I lost focus for just long enough to possibly get hit by something that would kill me. Someone else said, oh he (referring to me) was there but then wasn't what happened?

Him: "oh, I leashed him". Me, laughing but trying not to be obvious that it's my nervous laugh: "uhhhh maybe that wasn't the best wording it was a little sus". His reply: "oh, you didn't appreciate that? Would you rather I called it the JO tether?" Idk I can't type the way he said it but I feel like it was said in A Way. Maybe it's just me but idk y'all. It fucked me up.

Like BRO don't make me think about this while we're fucking raiding man. I died to a mechanic almost immediately after because brain empty except for the thought of him putting a fucking collar and leash on me and oh god oh fuck i need to not think about being so very fucking ok with that- oh wait I'm dead

Like I'd say we're close, out of the group I'm probably closer to him than I am to anyone else. We DM a bit, share memes, he helped me more than once with real life stuff. I enjoy talking to him a lot. I'm also the only one who knows his full name and his kid's name ;3

But. He lives halfway across the country, has a wife and child and stable job, and like. I'm me lol. We also don't know what each other look like. He does know that I'm poly and bi and trans and all the other various little things, and he's not weird about any of that. I also am pretty sure he's bi he didn't say the words but he *did* say smash on a few male/masc enemies when we played smash or pass in the group chat one night 👀

Anyway idk if I'm reading into it too much and I'm trying not to allow myself to have hope or think of him that way because like what if that's weird. Is it weird? Am I thinking too much? Obviously like if someone is in a monogamous relationship then I'm not gonna interfere with that, and I don't "know" that's the case but usually when people are married it is. There's also the other stuff.

I'm trying to arrange a small group meetup at a con, and I'm not sure if I'm worried or not about meeting him. Like part of me is worried I'm gonna see him and be like oh no he's hot and I'm going to have A Bigger Issue, also worried if it *were* mutual when we met, what then, like he's got a LIFE, my partner might be more ok with it but idk about his wife like..

Ugh idk I'm fucked up over this shit rn

[midnightwriter21]

demon slayer hcs: the hashira men as boyfriends

characters: tengen, sanemi, giyuu, rengoku, muichiro, obanai

AN: i don’t write for gyomei srry

TENGEN

- this isn’t just a little fling

-mans doesn’t wanna be ur bf

-he wants to be your HUSBAND

- and he’s gonna make that happen ASAP

- and when y’all get married you’re not just getting a husband

- ur getting 3 wives too

- it’s a package deal

- overprotective!!

- the way he made his wives promise to prioritize their lives over the mission

- my heart was bursting

- carries u around

- when tengen is around ur feet hardly ever touch the floor

- doesn’t matter how big or tall u are

- he’s bigger and taller

-he's big all over if ykyk

-nicknames include: sweetheart, princess, baby

- and don’t think he’s saying those to be cute

- he’s absolutely mocking you

-which brings me to…

- this man teases the HELL out of you

- but with love

- he loves you just as much as he loves his wives

- in his mind ur alrdy married

- and he is NOT letting you go

- or letting any harm come to you as long as he can help it

- 4 lifer fr

- id marry him

SANEMI

-i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again

-he’d tear it UP

-and i’d let him

- loves you so much

- doesn’t show it in public

- but in private?

- clingy as fUck

- he’s like ur shadow fr

- will follow u around all day

- hands on ur waist

- arm around ur shoulder

- holding ur hand

- he will not let go of u when ur alone

- in public he’s a lot less touchy

- but he will still stand near you

- jealous af

- every slayer knows by now to stay tf away from you or face the wrath of the wind pillar

- you belong to him

- makes sure they know it

- makes sure you know it

-hickey MASTER

-no i will not elaborate

- everybody knows sanemi is a little rough around the edges

- so there are days when it’s hard for him to open up to you

- but he does try

- he’s got a reputation to keep up!

-gotta act tough

-no weaknesses!!

- except for u

-he’s so soft for u he can’t help it

- nicknames: dumbass, idiot, & feather (my personal favorite)

-like i said he is almost always physically connected to u in some way when ur alone

-ignore him? he's throwing u over his shoulder

-he's strong he can manhandle u all over the place

-sheeeeeshhhhh manhandle me however u want sir

-claims ur super light no matter ur size

-hence the nickname "feather"

-i love him

GIYUU

-ik damn well this man had EVERONE in a chokehold from the first second he showed up

-speaking of chokeholds... ;)

-put me in one pls sir

-anyways

-awkward as fuck

-but he tries for u

-terrible with physical affection

-but we all know he's SOOO touch starved

-you'll have to initiate any type of physical touch

-and make sure he's not uncomfortable

-but really there's nothing he wants more than to touch you

-takes a very long time to say "i love you"

-but can u blame him??

-every good thing the poor man has ever had has been ripped away from him :(

-because of this he's veryyyy protective

-cause he'll be damned if the last person he has that accepts him and loves him for all he is

-is hurt or killed

-100% will die for u without a second thought

-not really a nickname type of guy

-remember he's awkward as hell

-most you'll get is a "-chan" attached to ur name

-and even that is only when y'all are alone

-but still

-even if he doesn't always show it

-you are always on his mind

-he's on a mission and walking through a market?

-he's buying you a hairpin or som

-walking through a forest and sees some flowers?

-"i wonder if she'll like these"

-AND HE'S PICKING U A BOUQUET

-ugh soft for bf giyuu

RENGOKU

-sunshine boy!!!

- epitome of golden retriever boyfriend

-all smiles all the time

-follows u around like lost puppy

-shows off for u

-yk when ur around kids and they're like "watch this" and then they jump and spin a circle lmao

-thats him

-"did you see what i just did?!"

-if u didnt...

-he's doing it again

-wants to impress you so bad

-also you will never have to lift a finger in his presence

-service bf!!

-you need the dishes washed and the floor swept?

-he's on it

-you need help styling ur hair?

-welcome to rengoku's hair salon

-will attempt to dress you in the morning

-and by dress you, i mean he's tugging ur shirt over ur head

-zipping up ur pants

-and tying ur shoes

-brags about you to anyone and everyone

-the other hashira can't have a single conversation with him without him bringing you up somehow

-compliments compliments compliments!!!

-he loves you and isn't afraid to show it

-nicknames from him: my love, my beautiful girl, sweetheart

-constantly confessing his love

-also lowkey speaks poetry for u

-some shit like

-"my light in the darkness, the one who gives me strength, you set my heart ablaze just by allowing me the privilege of seeing your smile"

-ugh he's the sweetest baby

MUICHIRO

-my airheaded angel baby

-i love him sm stop

-baby boy has a terrible memory

-that we alrdy knew

-but!

-he tries so hard for you

-keeps a little journal with notes and information about you

-so if he forgets he can remind himself over and over

-when he's on missions away from you he reads it so he can think about you to pass the time

-can not and will not remember anniversaries

-unless they're written in that journal

-will pick u flowers

-hope ur not allergic cause he's not gonna remember that

-but it's the thought that counts

-the fact that he's thinking about you at all counts

-you wanna go on a date?

-your dates consist of watching the clouds and taking naps together

-maybe a picnic if ur lucky

-no nicknames from him

-he calls you by your name

-its all he can remember

-he's the cutest

OBANAI

-like sanemi, he's a lot less affectionate in public

-however, he's not afraid to express his thoughts about you

-at least not to the other hashira

-might not be glued to your side

-but he's got eyes on u at all times

-and someone is talking about you?

-the second he hears ur name leave somebodies mouth

-he's tuned in

-and they better not say anything negative either

-mans turns murderous

-they will wake up to a snake in their bed

-will prob threaten them within an inch of their life

-don't have to worry abt other people while he's around

-cause he's got everything

-and i mean EVERYTHING taken care of

-protective but not pushy

-i feel like obanai trusts you and your ability to handle yourself

-but thats not gonna stop him from watching over you

-you're not drinking enough water?

-here comes obanai with a cup and u better drink it all

-haven't had lunch yet?

-he's sharing his with you. and will force feed u if need be.

-on a mission with him?

-he's not gonna push u behind him or anything

-but nothing is gonna get the chance to bring any harm to you either

-he's got ur back

-he's pretty vanilla with the nicknames

-nothing too crazy

-especially in public

-mostly uses ur first name

-might add a "-chan" in there every once in a while

-when ur alone he'll call you "sweetie"

-acts like a hard ass

-but he's soft for u

[the-acid-pear]

First mental breakdown i suffered in the streets after a while, gotta make sure to keep the habit! Gotta make sure to make everyone's day a little bit more interesting 😋

I have a terrible headache and I'm struggling to breath tho. And my knees are going weak, i basically had to drag myself home.

[zerobaselove]

you're worth it | han yujin

pairing: yujin x reader

genre: fluff

word count: 1001

warnings: none! lowercase intended, not proofread!

notes: yujinnnnn!! my little guy ugh he is just so cutie i am so devastated. anyways this was so fun to write as i procrastinate getting ready for work LMAO so i hope y'all like it <3 thank u anon for this idea it was so lovely (i know i didn't go too in depth w the actual sleepover part im SORRYYY)

you didn't consider yourself someone who got nervous particularly easy. especially not when it involved your best friend yujin. everything was easy with him. was. before you had developed a little crush on the boy.

you had done a pretty good job at ignoring the way your heart would speed up when you caught him looking at you, or when your hands brushed when you walked side by side. but you weren't sure if that same ignorance would hold up for tonight, your first sleepover at his place.

it's not a big deal. you repeated in your head. repeating the phrase like a mantra as you approached the door for his dorm. you had met a couple of his roommates in passing but the idea of meeting so many new people definitely didn't help the nerves that bubbled up in your chest.

raising your hand you knocked on the door a few times, the once silent apartment erupted in muffled noises. screams, maybe? you considered, not even having a moment to consider why there would be screaming before the door opened to yujin with a sheepish grin on his face.

you almost didn't notice the swarm of other guys standing in the apartment with wide grins on their faces. some giggling to themselves or whispering, while one you recognized, hanbin, lightly hit them on the arm in an attempt to get them to stop. you couldn't help but giggle at the group of boys, giving them a small wave before greeting yujin.

yujin hadn't realized why you were giggling until he turned around to walk with you into the apartment, letting out a groan, "please just ignore them they're being annoying." he put emphasis on the last word, some of the boys feigning offense, hands over their chests like they had just been betrayed.

"we just wanted to meet your little friend," one said with a wiggle of their eyebrows, "is that so bad?"

yujin let out another huff before reluctantly introducing you to the group. you soon learned the two giggling to each other were gyuvin and gunwook. everyone was so nice and welcoming to you that you immediately felt at ease there. the teasing remarks to yujin also seemed to help as you all laughed together for a bit.

who you remembered to be matthew spoke up as he faced you and yujin, "yujin you're really gonna let them stand there carrying their bags this whole time? not very gentlemanly of you." he shook his head, jokingly wagging his finger as he told him off causing a laugh to leave your chest before you insisted it was okay and that you didn't mind.

"no he's right, you can put your stuff in my room, follow me." yujin smiled shyly, leading you to his bedroom. you both tried to ignore the whistles and whispers from the boys behind you as the door shut behind you both.

yujin sat on his bed with a sigh, "sorry about them, they're a lot." he chuckled. you put your bag at the end of his bed before plopping down next to him.

"don't apologize," you reassured him with a smile, "they're really fun actually, i was more worried if they'd like me or not."

he turned to you with a smile, "oh don't worry, they loved you before you even got here." you let out a relieved sigh before you took a moment to process what he had said, raising an eyebrow.

"yujin," you smirked, holding back a giggle "do you talk about me to them?"

his eyes widened at the accusation, knowing deep down what it implied about his feelings towards you. "well," he brought his hand up to rub the back of his neck awkwardly, "you see," his voice trailed off.

"so that's a yes?" you giggled, placing your hand on his, "don't worry, i think it's cute." as soon as the word cute left your mouth yujin started stuttering some denial as his eyes darted between you and your hand on his.

watching the way his brain started malfunctioning, you knew you were the only chance of this conversation continuing, so you opened your mouth again, feeling more confident now. "i don't know if you know this jinnie," the nickname rolling off your tongue so naturally, "but i like you, a lot."

you watched as he processed your confession, a wide smile spreading across his face. "oh!" he exclaimed, trying to calm his rapidly beating heart, "i uh," his hand squeezed yours lightly, looking for reassurance, "like you too, also a lot." you giggled at the boy in front of you, his smile becoming infectious, soon mirroring his wide grin.

"well good," you smiled, placing a kiss on his cheek, "now let's head back out there before they start getting the wrong idea." you didn't even give him time to think about the small romantic action before you dragged him up and to his door.

what you weren't expecting as you opened the door was the sight of 8 boys toppling over each other. yujin let out a whine at their antics, "were you guys listening to our whole conversation?" he exclaimed, not even that surprised that they would do such a thing.

"pffft no way! we were just,"gyuvin glanced around the hallway, "uhm," his voice lowered to a whisper, "gunwook help me out."

gunwook perked up, straightening out his tshirt, "we were just expecting the door hinges," he said nonchalantly, "one of them has been squeaking and we were trying to see which one it was." he came up with the excuse so quickly and with such confidence that you almost believed him.

you both laughed as you shook your head and walked past the group of boys, making your way to the kitchen, "you might wanna get used to stuff like that, especially since you'll probably be coming over more." yujin smiled as he grabbed your hand, giving it a light squeeze.

"don't worry yujin, you're worth it."

[mothocean]

Fuck it. Steampunk era new albion tumblr

⚙️ mcallisterindustries Follow

Today is the 40th anniversary of the death of my beloved mother, Annabel Mcallister, whose passion for science has inspired me since i was a young boy. Without her, the memory of her death aching in my heart, driving me to pursue a way to bring back those lost to time, Mcallister Industries wouldn't be where it is today. To honor her memory, we are holding a 30% sale on all new doll models, and a 1+1 deal on reanimating newly dead loved ones! Call 1-DOLL-800 to find out more about upcoming sales and order your loved one's new doll body today!

5 notes

💀 voodoopunk-official Follow

We're meeting again at the crossroads tonight!! Bring your doll-ay doll-ay spirit!

- Mod B

#voodoopunk #vote voodoopunk we dance with you on your graves

704 notes

💀 voodoopunk-official Follow 🔁 averagealbioncitizen Follow

🤵 averagealbioncitizen Follow

man can these dolls play literally anything else. i keep retuning my granny's radio but it always plays that elysian night song :(((

🔁 💀 voodoopunk-official Follow

You just don't get it like we do

- mod A

1 notes

🟥 redhairedbisexual Follow 🔁 redhairedbisexual

🟥 redhairedbisexual Follow

my bro died so i have to take over the family business now :(( anyway hmu if you need anything special iykyk 😜🤙💯

🔁 🟥 redhairedbisexual Follow

update: who tf keeps stealing our stock im gonna fucking bootleg doll you

7 notes

👑 aliceinfutureland Follow

made some progress today :) the angels will be proud

0 notes

🤖 doll34221543 Follow 🔁 doll356857543 Follow

🌠 newalbionmayor-official Follow

Elysium, the silent sighed lost lullaby...

56.7K notes

💀 voodoopunk-official Follow 🔁 bi-bye-byron Follow

🕶 destroy-da-dollz-deactivated

🔁 🎩 bi-bye-byron Follow

JASPERSWEEP

🔁 👯‍♀️ dykes4dolls Follow

What a self own lmao

🔁 💞 dollay-darling Follow

op did u really think people were gonna vote against the doll? On the voodoopunk website?

🔁 🕶 destroy-da-dollz-deactivated

'voodoopunk website' up my ass y'all let the power get to your head. You fucking rusty ass stoner cultists ain't gonna last here

🔁 💀 voodoopunk-official Follow

THEY DEACTIVATED HAHA GET REKT

- mod B

4,306 notes

🕶 crossroads-acolyte-deactivated

My dad's been really terrible lately... at least i have the dolls to comfort me

🔁 🕶 crossroads-acolyte-deactivated

Their song is so beautiful... if only i could join them...

🔁 🕶 crossroads-acolyte-deactivated

Elysium, the silent sighed lost lullaby

Elysian night

Read more

2 notes

🤵 averagealbioncitizen Follow 🔁 voodoopunk-official Follow

💀 voodoopunk-official Follow

With great agony, we announce the passing of one of our dear members. Mod A, also known as Acolyte Amelia, you will be missed.

- Mod B

🔁 🤵 averagealbioncitizen Follow

I KNEW THOSE DOLLS WERE PROBLEMATIC FROM THE START UGH... don't support the voodoopunks they're lying to you #killthedolls #antivoodoopunk

🔁 💀 voodoopunk-official Follow

Amelia didn't die because of the dolls dumbass you're just using her death as a means to further your stupid political agenda smh 🙄

- Mod B

🔁 🤵 averagealbioncitizen Follow

AND YOU AREN'T???

36.8K notes

🚫 destroy-da-dollz-remade Follow

I FUCKING TOLD YOU GUYS

#anti voodoopunk #kill the dolls #i fucking said it from the start but y'all didn't LISTEN

0 notes

🤵‍♀️ kate-the-nyarrator

can anyone even hear me

[tojisbbygworl]

Before I Let Go - Yandere!Miguel O’Hara x Reader

Summary: A grieving woman comes face to face with her thought to be deceased husband and can't find it in her to care about how wrong this was. She missed him. So much.

WARNINGS: Thoughts of Suicide, Suicide Attempt

Words: 4,994

Tags: 18+, 3rd person, Angst, Emotional Smut, Desperation, Grief/Mourning, Yandere, Spying, Kidnapping, Minimal Spanish terms of endearment

author's note: hey y'all. I have another fic for you. I am so glad I finished it it's been sitting in my drafts for a minute. The yandere part of this isn't violent although there is some slight physical pain put on the reader during sex. Just a mention of choking and scratching it's not bad. It's more obsession if anything. Also, I wasn't even gonna try with the Spanish girl. The most he says is carina and hermosa and I know y'all are sick of seeing that atp. I barely even tried with the British for Hobie I'm not about to embarrass myself LMAO

I hope this makes y'all sad honestly I feel like I could have made it sadder but I'm still very happy with it. Anyway, enjoy! 🩵

AO3 version

My AO3

Masterlist

The buzzing sound of a phone call is all that can be heard in the apartment. It has been a week since the funeral, and Y/N O’Hara hasn’t said a single word. She doesn't even remember what her voice sounds like.

Miguel O'Hara was everything to her. He meant the entire world. She would do anything he asked, but he never asked for much. All he wanted was her love. She was the same with him. A perfect partnership. She felt like she was on top of the universe. And then it was taken away from her. In a fucking car crash, no less.

He was the smartest person she knew. He was the head geneticist at Alchemax after all. He wasn't a stupid driver. No. It was the other driver's fault. But what could she do about it? It was just a kid. A teenager that had just gotten their license, but hadn't taken official driving lessons; no one really drilled into them the severity of texting while driving. How could she really blame them? How could she press charges? Miguel always told her that she was too forgiving. Too understanding.

He was right. But...she also couldn't help but to think it wasn't fair. That her beautiful husband had to die from their actions, and all they had to deal with was an insane insurance increase and a fucked up car that their parents were bound to replace. She would give anything to trade consequences. Anything.

Almost two months since his death, she's been wandering around her apartment frequenting the most common places she and Miguel would cuddle in. She always had a shared blanket, one of his shirts, or a pillow that had his hair on it to squeeze and cry into. If she sprayed it with his cologne and shut her eyes really tight, she could almost imagine he really was there. Almost.

These objects could never replace him. She missed his warmth. She missed his chest pushing her head up and down from his breathing. It would rumble when he chuckled. His hands were so large that her entire back would heat up when he held her gently. He was so tall, 6'6 to be exact, he would completely engulf her whenever they embraced. She felt so safe in his arms. She doesn't feel safe anymore.

Nearly two months of hunching over on the floor of her apartment in pain. She wailed into the ground. Coughing and scratching whatever she could hold onto, because the pain was too much to bare. Oh, the pain. She wouldn't wish this kind of heartbreak on anyone or anything.

The apartment was large, courtesy of his checks. He could already afford it on his own, then, the both of them married just a few years ago and he didn't expect her to pay a dime, despite how much she insisted. Instead, she bought food and handled upkeep. If it got too expensive, then he would chip in. She would have to move out eventually, his remaining income and life insurance the only thing keeping her afloat. Just another thing that she can’t fathom.

It was 3 bed, 2 bath. One was their bedroom, the other was his office, she's been going in there a lot as well, and they always wondered what they would do with the last room. For so long, it was empty even before she moved in with him. He never knew what he could use it for. He had hoped that she would turn it into a hobby room, she loved to paint and she played the violin a little, but there was a beautiful terrace attached to the apartment that she opted for instead and she insisted the living room had the best acoustics so the room remained a mystery. Until last year, when he dropped a bomb on her.

It was an extremely average day for the both of them. They were both home from work, nothing interesting to report, and were deciding what to eat for dinner. She suggests something they could cook, and he agrees. As the night goes on, something seems off about Miguel. He's quiet and zoning out a lot. Something has to be on his mind, right?

"Babe," she calls for him snapping him out of his trance.

"Hm?"

"Everything alright?" She puts her hand on his shoulders and gives him a worried look. Miguel swallows his spit then turns towards her grabbing her hand and placing his on her waist.

"I've been thinking..." His voice is small. She starts to grow anxious as she had never seen him look so timid. He was more nervous than when he asked her to marry him.

"W-What is it?" She stutters. He kisses her knuckles.

"It's just something that I've been wanting for a while now. And if you don't, then It's completely fine. I care about your happiness above everything."

"Miguel, stop being so cryptic and tell me what's up," She half jokes.

He nervously bites his lips and looks away. Then, taking a deep breath, he looks into her eyes and says, "I want to have a kid."

She felt it was best to pretend the work-in-progress nursery didn't exist. In her mind, the room is still empty. There wasn’t a crib set up. The walls weren't in the process of being painted. They didn't have arguments about what to put on it because they didn't know the gender. In fact, gender of what? They weren't planning for a baby. The third room is as empty as she is.

The both of them were foolish, deciding to get everything set up before she got pregnant instead of winging it like everyone else. She should have winged it. Then maybe she would still have a piece of him with her.

It was so fucking hard to focus on what mattered. She was hanging on a thread that thinned out every single day. Before the funeral, she wondered what would be her breaking point? The point where she finally got up and decided to keep going.

The weather was very fitting for that day. The sun was gone, and the rain came in waves. Her tears, however, never stopped. It was a stupid decision to make it open casket. She gazed upon his resting face for the first time since he died in the hospital then turned and ran to the nearest bathroom to empty her stomach. She hadn’t even gotten to say her speech; Miguel’s mother read for her instead.

Something inside her snapped. Sometimes the pain is a dull ache in her chest, and she’s numb everywhere else. Other times it’s a sharp twang that she can feel in her back. She has to lay or sit down when that happens. Sometimes it courses through her entire upper body and she can’t even move. But this…this stabbing, twisting, and searing pain that ripples through her heart and travels to the tip of her fingers and toes…she hasn’t felt this before.

This was the breaking point, but it did the opposite. She didn’t talk for the rest of the day, her and his family begging her to stay with them. She didn’t listen.

It was nights like tonight that she felt completely alone. She knew she wasn’t, if she just picked up the phone and texted someone, then maybe she would be okay. She just needed to stop looking at the ceiling, turn to her nightstand, pick up her phone, and call her mother. But it was 1 in the morning, and Miguel looked so happy in her lock screen picture…

Her and Miguel had been up here on the top of the apartment building so many times before. They liked to dance, he would watch her play or paint, they had picnics together, it was perfect when they wanted to get out of the apartment, but still have some privacy.

The view was nice. They could see across the entirety of Nueva York. Central Park in the fall was especially amazing to gaze upon. But now it fills her with grief. As she steps on top of the edge, she decides that if this couldn’t make her feel better, then nothing could.

She’s glad she’s doing this in the middle of the night, where no one could see her and call for help. She was sure that she would traumatize a couple people when morning came, a problem that she couldn’t be bothered by. She was ready to be back in his arms. So she walked off. And closed her eyes as she plummeted through the air.

She’s scared. But excited. She only has to feel excruciating pain for a second and then never again. It’s almost over.

She hits something, or more so, something hits her. She’s still flying through the air, but it’s different now. There’s a warm body holding onto her for dear life, and she’s soaring upwards into the night sky. Opening her eyes to gaze at her savior, she sees a masked silhouette. It-it’s Spider-Man…but he looks completely different. She can barely see him, the only source of light being the moon, but she could swear that this wasn’t his mask.

They land on the rooftop again and he puts her down. She crawls away from him, embarrassed and ashamed at what she’s done. She was still alive and now she was in more pain than ever before. Wailing on the floor, she glared up at him in vitriol.

“Why did you save me?” She yelled, her voice powerful for a woman who hadn’t been verbal for a week. Spider-Man didn’t answer. She wasn’t even sure if he was looking at her. “I didn’t want to be saved.” Still, he said nothing. So she continued to cry, and she cried harder and harder until she felt a sensation on her back.

He was trying to comfort her, but when she turned he backed off, holding his hands up instead. Her lips quivered, then she threw herself into his arms. His hold on her body was snug and comforting. Her anger for him dissipates immediately as she accepts his affection. For the first time in a while, she felt safe. She didn’t want him to let go.

And he didn’t. He stayed until she fell asleep in his arms. Then, he picked her up, gazing upon her peaceful face with the light from the inter dimensional portal, then walked into it with no intention of coming back.

~

This wasn’t her room.

She sat up in the bed and took in her surroundings. These weren’t her sheets, that wasn’t her wallpaper, the blinds were different, the floor wasn’t carpeted, everything even the floor plan of the room was different. This isn’t her home.

Her heart begins to pound. Where was she? She was still in her clothes, but that’s the only comfort that she had. Immediately, she shoots out of the bed, the comforter tangling in her feet making her fall onto the floor. The large thump that her fall makes scares her. She stays on the floor, still and quiet as a mouse. There's no noise for a couple seconds. Then, the sound of someone walking.

She hyperventilates, quickly removing herself from the blanket and standing up. But she realizes that she has no where to go. There's a small closet in the room, and space under the bed, but those the only hiding spaces she can think of. And the footsteps were getting closer. What can she do, she wonders as she backs into the wall.

The door swings open. And her heart stops.

Miguel stared at his wife's variant in concern and turns on the light. The woman blinks and shields her eyes, but the bewildered look that she sported quickly comes back. "What happened?"

When he spoke, she gasped and took another step back. She smacked her hand over her mouth. Her eyes glistened with tears, her breath shuddered. "You're alright?" Miguel asked her again. She didn't answer.

For what felt like the longest time, they just stared at each other. He was afraid of approaching her thinking he may scare her away. She was in completely disbelief at what she was seeing. Miguel raised his hands and stayed near the door way. "Please, don't freak out," he began.

She let out a sob, tears escaping her eyes when she did. Placing her hand on her chest, she lifts herself from the wall. Miguel takes this as a sign to keep going.

"I know you must be confused. You're probably upset and angry. I understand." She took a step forward. "But if you would just left me explain..." Another step. Then another. And another. And she held her hand out in front of her. As she approached him, he realized how badly she was trembling, and it only got worse the closer she got. But still, she moved forward.

The speech Miguel had been practicing before she woke up died in his throat. He was speechless as he watched her courageously close the space between them. When she finally stood right in front of him, she hesitated. He could hear her soft gasps and cries. Then finally, she softly touched his chest. He looked down at her hand, then up at her face. Even though she was crying profusely, she looked upon him in wonder. He just wants to reach out and grab her, but he holds himself back.

She begins to rub his chest and torso, appalled by his presence. He looks back down at her hands. Then, they trail themselves up to his neck, stopping right under his chin. He lifts his head up. They both hold their breath for a second. Then, with a gasp from her, and a sigh from him, she finally touches his cheek. Miguel closes his eyes and leans into her palm. He lifts his arm up, and encases her hand in his, keeping it in place.

Her lips begin to move. With a tiny shaky breath, she whispers, "It's you."

Miguel's face is troubled. He has a small frown and his eyebrows were upturned. He twists his head in her palm to give it a small kiss.

Her eyes flicker all over his body. It is him...but he's different. He's taller now. His build is thicker and he feels tense. Miguel was a gym buff, but this man...this kind of definition is not built in the gym. His frown is deep, and so are his wrinkles. His eyes were more troubled than hers, and had the slightest hint of red. And his teeth...she could feel his sharp canines with her thumb.

"No," she realizes. "It's not you."

Miguel opens his eyes and stares at her. He can see the fear growing on her face, and he starts to panic. He moves his hand to her wrist to hold it gently. But he's prepared to squeeze it if she tries to run. "I'm not him. But-"

"But you look like him." She continues, her voice on the precipice of hysteria. "And you sound like him." She holds both of his cheeks and caresses his face with her thumbs. "And you feel like him..."

Miguel winces as he watches her cry louder and louder with every observation. "Cariña, please," He takes her hands off of his face and kisses her knuckles. She completely breaks down crying. Miguel reaches his arms out, and she throws herself into his chest, sobbing into his neck. "You don't have to cry anymore. I'm here now."

"But who are you?" Her voice muffled by his shoulder.

He gulps. "...I am Miguel, but-"

"But you're not my Miguel, are you?" She lifts her head up to stare at him. She looked anguished, her brain not being able to process what was going on. He doesn't answer. "Did you save me?" He nodded. "Why?"

"I had to, baby. I-"

"Where did you come from?" She pushes herself off of him, and Miguel can't find it in him to hold her there. He let's go of her, knowing that there is no where she can really run where he won't find her. "No, where have you been?"

He furrows his brows and tilts his head. "What?"

"Where the hell have you been?" She screams at him in unbridled rage. Her tears were never ending, and her glare was fierce. "I was in fucking agony when you died. I couldn't live with myself. I couldn't get over you. I didn't want to. I missed you so much." Her anger turned into desperation and she falls to her knees on the floor, weeping into her hands. Miguel looks on in desolation, his eyes filling with tears as well. He walks to her and leans down, trying to get her to stand. She flips her head up at him. "Who are you?"

"Please, let me explain." He sits on the floor with her, holds her face and leans into it. She doesn't pull away, instead, she kisses him first, her cries never ending. Her hands tangle themselves in his hair. Miguel wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her into him. He sits back and pulls her into his lap.

The kiss lasts until they run out of breath, then they pull away, panting in each others' faces. "I...am Miguel." He starts. "But not your Miguel. And you are not my Y/N."

She shakes her head and scrunches up her face. "Just listen." Her mouth closes again, and she relaxes preparing herself to take in every word he says...

...Miguel spent a lot of time watching her. His Y/N, across the multiverse. In each one, they are together. It's fate. And in every one...she dies. No matter what that universe's Miguel does, she dies. That must be fate, too. Then he found a universe where that didn't happen. He died instead. He took a chance, and when he replaced himself he was the happiest he had ever been. And then everything was destroyed. An entire universe...gone. He swore to never interfere with fate again. He whispered a soft 'sorry' to every Miguel he found after that.

He saw her, Y/N on Earth - 548. Happy as ever with her devilishly handsome husband. He felt for him. He had no idea the heartbreak he was about to experience. But, for the second time in his studies, he was the one who died. He cried, knowing that he could never do anything about it. When she became a shell of her former self, he focused all of his attention on her. Putting all of his work on Jess and Peter, he monitored her. He watched her cry, she spent all of her time off from work at home rolling around in her bed as if the emotional pain was so strong that it was physical as well. He watched her touch herself at night, whispering his name into the empty air, him joining her from where he was spying groaning her name as well, wishing his cum was dripping from her cunt instead of down his hand. He called for her, hoping that his prayers to keep her safe would reach who ever was listening. They didn't.

He knew that when she sat up like a ghost from her bed that fateful night, she was about to do something rash. He held his hand over his watch, ready to jump as soon as he felt he needed to. When she began to walk to the edge, he decided to not even risk it and hopped into the portal.

He didn't expect her to turn and scream at him the way she did. He hadn't heard her beautiful voice for some time, he missed it so much, and the first thing she did was yell at him. He was stunned. He couldn't believe she was right in front of him. He looked at his watch. No indication of a canon event. There was nothing. Which meant...she was never supposed to die.

He was impulsive, he knows that. But, it worked out in his favor. She was supposed to be alive. He had done right. And now he had a decision to make. Does he leave her here to figure everything out on her own, or does he take her with him...and let her family think she's dead…

“You were watching me?”

Miguel refuses to meet her eyes. She didn’t move, but he tightened his grip around her just in case. Her voice was wavering.

When he didn’t answer, she continued. “Why didn’t you save him?”

He looked up at her that time. Above everything else, she was melancholy. “I couldn’t.”

“Why?”

“I just couldn’t, mi amor. You don’t understand.”

With her face contorted in pain, she released a choked sob. Her mouth was hung open. If she chose to believe this imposter, than hearing that nothing could have been done about the love of her life brought her no comfort. It wasn’t fair.

She gripped Miguel’s shirt letting her head fall forward into his chest. He held her for a long time while her shoulders shook. “Please, believe me.”

She doesn’t say anything, but her cries stopped. He began to worry, but she soon lifted her head up and looked into his eyes. His flicked back and forth between hers, and the both of them dive into another passionate kiss. This time, they don’t let up from each other. It gets more intense. Miguel’s breath picks up as his hands begin to explore her back and waist. She pushes her body up against his, rubbing their chests together.

She’s the one who pulls away opting to kiss down from his cheek to his neck. “Just come to bed with me. Please?” She begs into his skin.

Miguel, in a daze, whispers “Okay.”

He lifts her up and lays her down onto his bed, kissing her sweetly as he climbed on top of her. He felt so much bliss, he never imagined he would be able to do this again.

The way she grabbed his face made him never want to physically leave her side again. This was where he wanted to stay for the rest of their lives. She kissed him with so much despair, so much need, how could he ever leave her mouth? But, the strain in his pants and the grip she had on his back get worse, and he finds a reason to pull away.

She whimpers, missing the way his tongue caressed her mouth, leaving her lips swollen and shiny. Her eyes open, silently asking him where he was going, until he reached under the hem of her shirt and lifts it off of her, exposing her beautiful breasts. She gasps when he begins to rub his hand between them, eventually grabbing one to hold and play with. Miguel grins at her while she watches him rub his thumb across her hardened nipple. Which turned into her watching him dip his head down to her sternum and leave the smallest, lightest kiss.

The restraint he had on himself as he trailed his mouth down her body was unnatural. His claws had long since come out, ripping into the bedsheets as he tried so hard not replace them with her luscious hips. She was responding unbelievably well, making him happy he didn’t listen to Lyla tell him how terrible of an idea this was.

Lyla was wrong, he told himself when he heard her soft cry as his tongue played with her nipple. She began to squirm from frustration, and he just had to push his hips in between her open legs, the heat from his dick making her rub her wet panties along his shaft. Miguel moaned with her nipple fully inside his mouth, her moaning with him from the vibration against her chest.

She’s not scared of me, he thought as he leaves her nipple and kisses down her body. His lips finally met up with her panties, opting to push them to the side instead of taking them off completely. He places a kiss on her sensitive clit, his precum staining his underwear when she yelps. Miguel takes a moment to look at her glistening pussy, then he closes his eyes when he finally licks it.

And she doesn’t hate me. Miguel looks drunk when he starts eating her out. His eyebrows are raised and he gently placed her hand on her spread thigh, caressing the soft skin. Her whines making him even more desperate to please her, he presses his tongue into her center harder. His lips are covered with her fluid. Miguel gives her thigh a nice squeeze, then a slap, then he stands up straight.

When she opens her eyes to look at him, her heart races. His eyelids were low, and he towered over body making her feel smaller than she was. His stare was filled with infatuation, wiping off his lower face with one swipe of his large hand. Without breaking eye contact, he rips his shirt off and swipes his pants and underwear down, his large member bouncing back up. Miguel spit into his palm and started jerking himself off. Then, he climbs onto the bed, aligning his hips with hers.

He drools onto her pussy, her shuddering as his spit meets her clit and runs down her lips. It does well to lube her up with Miguel rubbing his tip in between her folds. “Ngh…fuck,” he mutters, the feeling of her wet cunt on his sensitive head giving him a feeling of euphoria.

She grew impatient, while Miguel was trying to take his time and savor her, she was ready to feel him split her apart. This was something she’s been dreaming about since she lost him. She waited for the day his naked body would engulf hers, his face on her cheek whispering filthy insults and sweet praises into her ear. As she remembers how sex used to be with her love, she starts to tear up.

“Miguel,” she whined making him look at her worriedly. When his eyes open, the red she noticed before is even more prominent. His mouth was opened slightly so she could barely see his fangs. How he could look so similar yet so different from her Miguel, she doesn’t know.

“Yes?” He asks her.

“Please, I can’t wait any longer. I want…” She moves her hips on him again. Miguel looks down at their hips and holds hers still.

He doesn’t respond, just pushes his length into her slowly. He grunts as he sheathes himself inside her warmth, reveling in her cries. “Shit, baby.” She’s tight and squeezing him so nicely, he can’t stop until he's inside of her fully.

She’s breathing heavily with her head thrown back and her eyes closed. Her back is arched lifting her naked chest into the air. “Look at me,” Miguel commands. She lifts her head up giving him what he wanted. Her eyes are filled with tears. It hurts, but feels so good. She missed him so much, and now they were one again.

Miguel whimpers at her beautiful face. “Hermosa,” he reaches out to her cheek to hold it. “Don’t cry.”

“But I love you,” she tells him.

He gasps. His hand lifts from her face. Freezing, he stares into her eyes in disbelief. “W-What?”

She takes his hand and brings it to her lips, leaving a gentle smooch. Her eyes close and the tears fall. “I love you, Miguel.”

His eyesight gets blurry as well, and soon Miguel is crying profusely. “Oh, baby,” he leans over her and pulls his hips backwards. Then he slams himself back down, making her yelp. She grabs his face and kisses him. “I love you too.”

As Miguel fucks her slowly, neither of them can find it in them to stay quiet. Miguel has to tell her how terribly in love with her he is. She has to let him know how much she missed him. He leans into her neck and whispers how he missed her too, and to stop crying because he’s here now. Even though, he can’t stop crying either.

She’s so happy to hear that he will never leave her side. She decides to believe him, accepting happiness instead of reality. She ignores his red eyes, his sharp fangs that press against her neck, as if he can barely hold himself back from biting her. She ignores how different the rumbling in his chest is from her Miguel. It’s not soft or sweet nor does it make her content. This one is predatory and dangerous, it makes her nervous.

She dismisses the way he grabs her neck; tight, leaving her with no air, whereas her Miguel knew that she didn’t like it rough. Honestly, neither did he. This Miguel went faster and harder. He grunted into her ear. But, she doesn't care.

She completely ignores how different this Miguel was. Her wishes were answered. She got him back. It doesn’t matter that his hold on her hip was so strong that he’s scratching her. That he didn’t stop or slow down when she came making her overstimulated. She let him cum inside her soon after, knowing that she wasn’t on anything.

“I miss you so fucking much,” she wailed when he slipped his dick out of her, his cum following suit and staining the bed beneath her.

Instead of getting a warm towel, Miguel laid down next to her and pulled her into his arms silencing her cries. “I told you baby, I’m right here.” But she doesn’t correct herself. She doesn’t calm down. She grips him for dear life and Miguel grows nervous.

Lyla was wrong…right?

“You know she will never love you the way she loved him. It will never be the same. Miguel...are you listening?”

“Lyla…shut down.”

ending a/n: Heyyyyy, did y'all like it? This will definitely not be my only Miguel fic but rn I don't really have any ideas for him. My brain is filled with thoughts of Hobie, and I need to stop neglecting my baby daddy Toji, lmao. So I'll be working on a real quick Hobie imagine and my AO3 stories as well for now. Unless I think of something else. I've been thinking about requests but I will fuck around and make a whole story from it cuz idk how to stop writing so damn much. Y'all I rly dk if I want to make another part to JFTN I rly like how it ended and I can't rly think about how I would continue it. Y'all might just have to deal idk girl. I love ya though! Anyway, I'll see y'all in the next story!🩵

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[one-and-a-half-yikes]

Don't mind me but can you plz rant about colly a lil more... :3

I'll do you one BETTER @ch1-kasak0

I'm gonna talk about Colly AND do an accidental Cuphead analysis on the side lmao

I will say, it is crazy to me that years ago, one of the reasons I had for why I didn't like the idea of Cupanny was because I perceived Fanny as someone un-ambitious, who seemed to have a bleak outlook and no real hope for a better future, something that was completely antithetical to what Cuphead needed in his life.

Obviously I don't hold that viewpoint about Fanny anymore, but I do think it's funny how that critique of mine (which I never shared on here I should add and I regret it lol) came back around but in an unexpected way. The Labyrinth arc was genuinely the deepest look we've gotten into Cuphead. With the thing that hit me the most stepping into Cuphead's dream and really seeing how much of himself is consumed by the guilt he feels about making a deal with the Devil, was how that guilt had basically consumed his personhood in a way.

Mugman dreams of being a pilot for the Calix Animi, of marrying Cala and having a whole, completed family; that his parents never left, that his dad was alive; Mugman dreamed of a future for himself. A fantasy that could never really be real, at least mostly, but it was a future nonetheless. Everyone, except Felix who's a special situation given his circumstances, dreamed of a future. Something that they were fighting towards even after they left the Labyrinth.

Except Cuphead.

He could never envision a future for himself, because so much of what made up who Cuphead was as a child was stripped from him that he's essentially a husk of who he was. We saw the real Cuphead in his dreamscape. He had aspirations, and goals he wanted to reach. But when your whole is spent struggling to survive it's hard to have real goals and aspire to them. It's hard to dream a dream that you hope comes true.

And then the gala happened.

Something that seemed out of reach for someone like himself suddenly seemed like a real, genuine reality within his reach. All because of his love for Holly. His love for her made him finally see a real future. A real dream. For one second, Cuphead didn't think about a bleak horizon that he was walking towards, but instead a beautiful sunrise that he wanted to walk towards hand-in-hand with Holly and it says a lot. It really does. In my Cuphead analysis I did say that his dream was still him in the background playing the role of Cuphead the Supporter rather than playing an active role in his own future where his own ambitions and drive exist alongside Holly's. But it doesn't detract from how much his love made him see something that for the longest he never saw as possible and that means something. It really does.

But oh, bitch I'm not even done yet. Y'all asked for this!!!

There's this one scene, I'm too lazy to go back and find it again (EDIT: I couldn't find it for some reason so my source is trust me bro), where Cuphead and Holly, and maybe Mugs was there I think, were talking and Holly said something along the lines of "I like your childish side" (paraphrasing). And that stuck with me, because when, in the other previous relationships that Cuphead had, has he ever been told that being his actual true self is the part they like the most about him? That the sulking badboy persona who's all rough edges and mysterious isn't nearly as interesting as the real him.

The thing I think a lot of people sort of forget, is that for Cuphead it's not a persona, it's just who he is. Because everything else has been stripped from him via abuse and threats to himself and his brother. From unethical experiments forced on him as punishment, to beatings from the boss when they screw up a job, to being yelled and cursed out by Hat because they messed up during training, and so on. So much of who he is, who he was, was taken from him and all that's left is whatever identity Cuphead needs to put on in that exact moment. Mugman was right when he said that for Cuphead, it's always about the damn mission. Keeping him and his brother safe, desperately trying to right his wrongs, and just trying to not have anyone see his weaknesses means the Cuphead we saw before in the Labyrinth is a ghost. Someone else entirely. A speck in the distance that feels entirely out of reach now to Cuphead.

But there's this part of him that he's tried to keep safe and held close and we see that in the Wonderful Winter arc. When Cuphead and Mugman started chasing each other, throwing snowballs at one another, it's the closest we get to seeing Cup in a light where he's not putting on a persona; the real him. And Holly notices that, too. But not just that she notices that, but that she is intrigued by it enough that she wants to get to know him more.

Holly had a crush on Cuphead, but the Tree Princess chapter is where she really fell for him. Which makes sense cause that's the chapter where she truly realizes the depth there is to his character and how multifaceted he was as a person. He wasn't just a killer thug like she'd first assumed, but a true complex person, just like her and all the other Questers.

And I think that's fucking beautiful man.

Of course I'd love to gush about Cuphead's perspective on Holly, but there's not really enough to say outside of:

You know it's true love when you're willing to spill all your secrets to this one person; to bear your whole heart and soul to them if it means being able to have them back in your life.

[slippinninque]

✨A Different Perspective ✨

Fontaine x Reader

Warnings: cursing, reader has a bad friend, something a bit different from me lmao, reader's nickname is Lil'Bit, before-work-fic so might have some errors lol

Tatianna had him eating out the palm of her hand. She caught his eye wandering more than once, when she jammed to her favorite song or pulled down her dress from where it was riding up.

She laughed at what Big Moss had to say, putting herself close to Fontaine so they would brush against one another whenever the crowd surged. More than once she used his shoulders or forearm to steady herself, flashing him a grateful smile.

This close, Tatianna knew that he liked what he saw. Compared to some of the other girls he rocked with, none of them could compare. Not that Lil’Bit wasn’t cute, but what did Miss. New York say? Goregous devours cute.

Once the night was over, and once Tatianna went home with him—she will find a way to make it up to Lil’Bit before breaking up with her and the other girls.

She sighed as she recalled the last conversation she had with the others when they cornered her after seeing her with Fontaine.

“A dope boy and a lil’ librarian ain’t going to mix.” Tatianna said patiently, “I’m just helpin’ her out to see. Saving everyone’s time.”

"You’re embarrassing yourself"

“Listen, don't even trip over this. Tati, girl, just...chill and we won’t even tell Lil’Bit. Ain’t gonna matter anyway—you know that.”

"Whatever. Do what you want—don’t come lookin’ for us when yo’ raggedy ass needs a ride home.”

Tatianna put away her lip-gloss with a sigh, head shaking.

If they didn’t understand Tatianna’s reasoning, then it was more proof that it was time to move along anyway. They were too grown to keep quoting those little ‘girl codes’ at her. Tatianna didn’t have to follow any code that wasn’t going to give her what she wanted.

Lil’Bit wasn’t woman enough to close the deal with ‘Taine but Tati was. No little ‘are-they-aren’t-they?’ was going to stop her.

Blowing a kiss to herself in the mirror, it was time to go out and finish out strong. She left the restroom and went back into the mix.

The stank glares and uppity side-eyes were well worth it. It was only confirmation that Tati was looking as good as she felt.

Tatianna could have the whole party if she wanted. Her body was banging and she could snatch a man with less than a sentence. Lil’Bit’s sugar sweet self was playing out of her league. It was a mercy to rip the band-aid off.

A quick scan of the crowd made her frown. Tatianna went further, scanning the bar and checking out the darkened corners. She gently batted away the homies who couldn’t hold to her and circled the function twice more.

Her mood soured as she realized Fontaine was no where to be found.

Narrowing her eyes at the duo across the room, Tatianna nearly stormed to them. The other half of this little-girl quartet that they’ve hung onto since college. Lina’s tall ass openly grinned with devilish red lips as Grace poorly hid hers into her cup, adorned nails clinking teasingly along the rim as she tried to ignore Tatianna.

She stepped in front of her and hissed, “What did ya’ll do?”

“I’d check your tone, we ain't been cool since we got out the restroom.” Grace pressed closer to her girl, echoing Lina’s mirthful expression, “We don’t know anyway.”

Tatianna sucked her teeth and looked expectantly at Lina who only shrugged, eyes going over her head and taking another sip. It did burn a little. Lina was often the neutral one that Tatianna could gain some understanding from—but of course it would be different now that it was about Lil' Miss. Perfect.

“So y'all ain’t say nothing to Fontaine?”

“What the fuck would I have to say to that man? I ain’t even know you were gonna be here, let alone him. I ain’t that nigga’s keeper…”

Tatianna flushed with building anger and her teeth gritted as she snapped at the bustling bartender for a drink. She could barely think straight so the matching, knowing grins between her acquaintances were lost to her.

There was one face that kept popping up, though. She refused to be bested…

“Is Lil’Bit here, then?”

“Haven’t seen her either.” Grace shrugged, “But if she was, you should already know what time it is.”

“I ain’t worried—you should know that.”

Lina finally cracked, laughing and shaking her head, “Imma tell you what, it’s crazy that ‘Bit’s been sparing yo’ ass for so long.”

“Sparing me? Girl, you’re outta your mind--!”

She was cut off by the bartender presenting her with her vodka, straight. Tatianna sighed. There was no reason for her to even argue. They would never be on her side, anyway.

Tatianna had to get what she wanted. If it meant a stealing away a few toys that weren’t hers, so be it. If it called for leaving out undesirables to achieve her aesthetic, so be it.

Fontaine was different, though. He was who Tatianna was meant for. What could he possible do with someone like Lil’Bit?

“Look at them gears turning in that head.”

Tatianna glared at Grace and was about to tell her where she could shove her drink when the flash of a familiar jacket caught her eye.

Her heard thudded as Fontaine’s eyes caught onto hers, his stride now purposeful as he came toward them. Had he seen her looking for him? Was he looking for her too.

Fontaine tossed something up in the air. It sailed over Tatianna’s head and Lina caught it with a surprised noise.

“ ‘Bit spilled a bit on her dress. ‘M gonna take her back real quick to change.”

Tatianna was stunned. She caught a glimpse of a familiar smiley-face key chain as Lina tucked Lil’Bit’s car keys into her jacket. Fontaine guesture to Tatianna drew her attention and she watched him began to back away.

“She said one of ya’ll gotta give ol’ girl a ride home.”

Tatianna bit the inside of her cheek, staring into Fontaine’s face despite his completely looking over her.

Ol'girl? He can't be fucking serious....

“Tell Big Bit we got it handled” Grace nodded with glee visible on her face, “Matter ‘fact, I’ll text her myself. Drive safe!”

“See ya’ll when you come back.” Lina sing-songed as she whipped her phone out.

Fontaine nodded and when he turned to leave, Tatianna blurted out, “Tell her I said...thank...you…”

He had walked off as soon her mouth opened and it was doubtful he even heard what she said over the music. Lina was bent at the waist, laughing her ass off while Grace looked at Tatianna as if to say there you have it!

Taking her drink, Tatianna turned and stalked away.

-----

Tatianna followed Fontaine out the function am but lost him soon after getting through the packed entrance.

There was an overflow of people who preferred the cool air to the stuffy vibes on the inside, but remained just as lively.

Her ears perked at the sound of Fontaine's voice among the crowd, your words lost to her as she crept around to the near deserted back parking lot. Tatianna peeked just enough around the brick to see Fontaine setting you up onto the trunk of his car.

You said something beneath the furious buzzing in her ears. Reaching out and scratching at Fontaine's chin while he kneaded your thighs in that plain-jane ass skirt you loved.

Fontaine grunted as he leaned closer, “Don’t mean shit to me—she don’t act like she’s yo’ friend…”

“It's my fault, she called dibs on you just after we met, I should have said something... "

Tatianna flushed cold. Fontaine’s mumble made you laugh, a breathless noise she never heard you make.

“I don’t give a fuck 'bout no dibs.” Fontaine was all growls now, pressing forward and then pressing a heated kiss to your lips. Your hands scrambled along the green of this Pontiac as you squeaked something out Tatianna, again, couldn’t understand.

“I know all I need to know 'bout that chick but back to you. Wearin’ this shit around me like you don’t know no better—keep them pretty eyes open while I'm talkin' to you...”

"I thought you liked my skirt? You sure a little librarian is enough for you?"

The mimic of Tatianna’s own words made her head spin. How long had you known? How long had Fontaine known?

Your laugh crinkled between a moan as Fontaine went to your neck, hands at your waist to pull you closer to him.

“Sure as fuck,” Fontaine snapped, “Aint little no fuckin' where, Big Bit. You're my woman. Say it.”

“But you said--

Tatianna flinched at how quick Fontaine took hold of your face. Where she would have probably started going off, you only grinned at him as if he finally gave up the candy you wanted.

“Don’t play with me, pretty. I’m tryin’ to be patient, you deserve patient. I ain’t gonna entertain that bold-ass lil’ friend of yours, though. This is the last week. Next Friday, everyone better know who you with. They better know ‘bout me.”

He then leaned in, latching back onto your neck and making you whine despite the blissed out smile on your face, “Okay, okay don’t eat me!”

���Say. It.”

He hadn’t let your face go and Tatianna turned away from your giggly echo. Shock numbing her as she recalled the last few weeks. Where had she gone wrong?

Tatianna pushed away the immediate thoughts of all the crushes and beaus she effortlessly swipped out from beneath you. Pretending that it only her duty as a friend to make sure your suitors were genuine, that she couldn't see the hurt in your face.

Tatianna stopped in the shadows of the entrance, ignoring the hopeful once overs being aimed her way. She couldn't bare to go back inside empty handed and one-upped but...she did need a ride.

Her eyes caught with an option who had some nice looking braids, but her heart wasn't in the wink she tossed him.

Maybe once she saw the bottom of her cup, then it would be easier to make a choice.

---------

✨Taglist✨: @megamindsecretlair @thadelightfulone @mag1calenchantr3ss @cocoeffects @wide-nose-and-wonderful @8ttached @thadelightfulone @hobiesmain @thickeeparker @longpause-awkwardsmile @ms-angiealsina @educatorsareslutstoo @mysterychick93@mcondance@sageispunk@kindofaintrovert@hunnishive@notapradagurl7@blowmymbackout@educatorsareslutstoo@blackerthings@miyuhpapayuh@westside-rot

Thank you for reading!!!! Just a little blurb that was haunting my notebook for the longest lol! Had to get it out before work, so sorry if I missed anyone in the tags! Tell me what you think and please reblog! ☺️💜💕

[glowingbadger]

Guarantee y'all didn't expect Shane to be my next target lmao but I've started a new sdv game and he's just such a sweet man and I want nice things for him. As the kids say- poor little meow meow

CW for a brief alcoholism mention

And damn Reader-Chan is a lot more forward in this than I usually write them lol but that's kinda necessary with a guy like Shane tbh.

Shane (SDV) x GN/AFAB Reader

A roll in the hay

NSFW 18+

Shane nudges open the door of your chicken coop with a bucket of fresh water in one hand and a hay bale balanced on his shoulder with the other.  You look up from where you’d been securing a new hinge on the smaller rolling door, and smile at the sight of him.  Truth be told, you’ve been looking at him a lot lately.  The healthy flush and subtle sheen of sweat on his skin pair nicely with the worn-in jeans and t-shirt he’s wearing to help you work.  His posture is straighter these days, and it draws your eyes up to strong shoulders that you hadn’t noticed were so broad until recently.  You’ve noticed other things, too- that he shaves more often, though by late afternoon he’s regained that five-o-clock shadow you’d always thought was strangely handsome on him.  That he positively glows and smiles in a way that brings creases to the corners of his eyes when he talks about Jas, or all the progress he and Marnie have made with the animals.  That he spends less time at the Saloon and more visiting you.

“Over here good?” he asks, shaking you from your thoughts.

“Hm?  Oh- yeah, that corner’s perfect, thanks,” you straighten up and brush off the front of your shirt and shorts, with a brief ‘whew!’  Then, you take a look around the newly-immaculate coop with your hands planted proudly on your hips. 

“Man, this place is looking as nice as the day Robin built it.  I really appreciate your help today, Shane.” you smile, catching the way he fidgets with the pocket knife in his hand as he bends to cut the bale of hay loose.

“Nah, it’s no big deal.”

“Well it is to me.  Afterall, I’ve got assistance from the Valley’s foremost chicken husbandry expert.” you’re sure to add a note of grandeur to the title.

“‘Foremost expert?’  C’mon,” he says with a short laugh.  In a practiced motion, he cleanly cuts the ropes around the hay and pulls them free, adding, “You give me way too much credit.” 

“And you give yourself no credit,” you reply, crossing your arms in a faux-pout as he rises and turns to you, “So I have to give you enough for the both of us.” 

He sighs, but he can’t seem to help the way the corner of his mouth curls into a grin.  With his dark brown eyes cast low, he tries to act like he’s focusing really hard on closing up his knife and storing it back in his pocket. 

“Well, y’know,” he mumbles, “I’m… happy to help with anything you need, just ask.  I’d like to be more reliable- at least for Aunt Marnie and Jas, and, uh… for you.”

Your smile softens, and you step closer to him, but before you can speak, he adds,

“Sorry, that must’ve sounded weird.  I- I’m gonna get this hay taken care of.” 

You almost laugh- he’s just too sweet, but you can’t risk making him feel more self-conscious.  So, stealing just a moment longer to watch him grab the nearby rake and start work in the corner, you decide to give him a bit of space and head into the house for some water. 

Shane has just finished arranging the fresh hay in a pile in the corner of the coop by the time you come back with water bottles and towels for you both.  You toss one of each to him with a nod, which he lurches back a step to catch. 

“Thanks,” he says with a heavy exhale.  He sounds exhausted from the day’s work, but pleasantly so, and you smile as you watch him wipe his face and hands clean with the towel.  Truly, it had been a huge help to have him around to help with a few things you’d been putting off, though you suppose he’s used to this kind of work.  The chickens are content to mill around in the fields outside until you finished, and two people had made for surprisingly light work all things told, so you feel you both have earned the chance to catch your breath and relax.  

Shane stretches out his arms, one and then the other, and you note for the third or fourth time that day that he actually has some impressive strength hidden on that physique of his.  You’d only recently started to take note, but it makes sense; carrying around product crates at Joja every day for so long- and now at Pierre's -not to mention the work he does to help Marnie with her own chickens, it follows that he’d have built up some muscle under his soft exterior.  Looking at him once again causes a familiar flutter in your stomach, and you smile to yourself.

He takes a swig of water, then glances over at you.

“Something on my face?”

You shrug.

“No, sorry,” you make your way towards the hay piled up in the corner and plop down onto the floor, then lie back against it, reclining comfortably with your hands behind your head and legs crossed out in front of you.  Shane follows your lead, careful to keep a respectful distance as he settles on straw beside you.  

“I was actually wondering,” you turn on your side towards him, closing half of that distance, “What suddenly inspired you to come help me out today?  Like I said, I appreciate it, you’ve been a huge help- but I figured you’d want to relax on a day off.” 

His eyes scan your face for a moment, then he looks blankly back up at the ceiling.

“Well you know, you’ve done a lot for me.  Been there for me, listened to me ramble about stupid stuff, and, uh… just figured I’d try to do something for you.” 

You smile warmly at him, but he goes on,

“And, well…” he sighs, running a hand through his dark hair, “Truth is, It’s also… been one of those days, actually.  When I start feeling like… hey, a drink or two, what’s the harm?  And I guess- if it were actually one or two, that would be fine, but I know myself.” His expression darkens, and he sighs again, heavier this time. 

“So you needed something to take your mind off of it,” you say.

“Basically, yeah,” he turns back to you wearing a wry smile, “Sorry to make you babysit me.  I guess that’s pretty lame, huh.” 

“Not at all,” you shift closer to him, “I’m really happy that you trust me enough to come to me with this.  Besides, isn’t this a huge step forward?  Reaching out and doing something productive instead of falling back on bad habits?”

“I… I guess so.” he almost looks unsure of whether he can allow himself to smile at this or not, and his eyes shy from yours. 

“Shane,” you’re lying closer to him now, your bodies in that strange space where you can feel one another without touching, “I want you to know that I’m really, really proud of you.” 

His eyes flicker down for a moment, you think towards your mouth, and his face is visibly pink. 

“Man.  How do you always know exactly what to say?  It’s… totally unfair.” 

When you bring a hand gently to his cheek and lean closer, he seems to freeze at first, until he leans towards you at the last moment before your lips meet.  Shane’s are soft, his kiss slow and incredibly tender- though tentative still.  His hand rests over yours, but gently, as though he’s not yet sure whether he should touch you.  When your tongue grazes his lower lip, he gives a breathy moan that you only barely hear, and briefly, you part from the kiss.  You rest your forehead against his, and he whispers your name with audible disbelief.  He’s trembling just a little.  His hand reverently brushes your hair from your face. 

Without a word, you kiss him again, harder this time.  He can’t hold back a low groan, and the sound squeezes around your heart and warms your body.  You only break from him for a moment to sling your leg over his hips, straddling his lap and pressing yourself to him.  At last, he wraps those strong arms around you, holding you close as your tongues tease one another and your nails dig down his chest from atop his clothes.  Your pulse is pounding, and you can feel from his chest that Shane’s is too.  Yet when your hands run down his torso to ease his shirt upward, he halts, breathless.

“Y/N, wait- you… you don’t have to do this.” 

You feel his touch abandon you.  When you look curiously down at him, he’s doing his best to appear stoic. 

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” his eyes dart away from you, “I appreciate what you’re trying to do and everything, but… it wouldn’t feel right to go this far.  Just to, y’know, cheer me up or whatever.” 

Your heart aches as his words sink in.

“Shane,” your tone is gently admonishing, “Is it really that hard for you to believe that I like you?” 

He takes a breath, his face burning red.

“Well, uh… ki- kinda…” 

Wordlessly, you take his hands in yours and guide them to your waist.  He looks up at you, surprised, confused, and eager despite himself.  Then, you guide his touch along your sides- slowly, so he can feel each inch of your body as it passes under his palms.  When his hands reach your breasts, you encourage him, pressing his touch more firmly to you, squeezing soft flesh until you feel his cock, hot and hard between your thighs, throb conspicuously in response.  

“Shit, sorry, I-”

“Don’t apologize.” 

You grind your hips down onto him, rutting your warmth against his erection and wishing dearly that there wasn’t so much damned fabric between you and him.  He looks gorgeous like this- flush-faced, muscles tensed, watching you with rapt attention as you encourage him to touch you as he likes.  At last, it seems he no longer needs direct guidance; his hands cup and massage your breasts, firm but never rough or forceful.  Now and then, he lets his hips shift against yours, creating that wonderful friction between you.  You lean down and kiss him again, deeply and firmly, willing your feelings to reach him.  You know that words and platitudes would do nothing for a man like Shane.  You’re determined to show him how earnestly you want him. 

Once again, your fingertips play at the bottom hem of his t-shirt, slowly pulling it upward.  When your lips part from his, he’s softly panting, his breath hot and eyes hazy.  You linger near enough that your lips brush his when you speak,

“Please, Shane?” 

He nods, and you give him enough space to tug the shirt over his head.  Clumsily, he shoves the shirt beneath him to avoid scratching his back against the hay.  You think for a moment that maybe you should take this to your bedroom- but damn, he just looks too good laid out on the straw beneath you, hair mussed out of place, flushed skin still dewed with the slightest hint of sweat.

You can’t help yourself- you press your body to his and kiss down the column of his neck, stopping to bite here and there, reveling in every mark you gift him along the way.  He groans out your name, hands running along your hips, gripping the swell of your thighs, even bold enough at last to grab onto your ass and pull you against him.  Only after you’ve kissed and bitten and caressed to your heart’s content, dragged your nails down his chest and felt him arch against you, do you finally pause.  

“Wait just one second,” you whisper in the heated air between you.  Then, you get to your feet to undress.  He watches you in a state of restless arousal and lingering disbelief as you strip for him.  You’re tempted to prolong the process and really savor his adoring eyes on you- but you find you’re too eager for what’s to come.  So you remove shorts and flannel and undergarments, leaving yourself in only your work boots and returning to his lap as quickly as you can.  

“Wow…” Shane’s hands run the contours of your body as he takes you in, and you smile down at him.  

“Do you believe that I want you yet?”  Your tone is playful, but the question is at least partly sincere.  

“I dunno,” he can’t tear his eyes from your body, “Seeing you like this honestly makes it even harder to believe.  You’re just- you’re so… wow.  It feels like a dream.  Or like I’ve lost it and this is all in my head.” 

As he speaks, your hands run down his front to undo the button of his pants.  Then, you hold his gaze as you slowly drag down the zipper.  Your touch firm but gentle, you free his rock-solid cock from his boxers and let out a happy little moan at the sight of it.  On the larger side of average length, extremely thick and pleasantly veined, it’s an incredibly tempting sight.  You stroke it once with your hand, then again and again, less tentatively each time.  You enjoy the heft and shape of it, and the way Shane catches his breath at your touch.  He’s sensitive- each brush and caress of your hand, each teasing motion of your fingers, has him blushing and biting back his voice.  You consider prolonging this too, but the raw lust you can see blazing in his eyes despite himself, the way he stammers out your name when you grip him more firmly and precum slickens the head of his member- it’s far too erotic to resist.

You position yourself carefully over him, the head of his cock nestled between your lower lips- but you don’t let him enter you just yet.  Instead, you sway your hips against him, rubbing his entire length against your needy cunt.  He moans aloud, his fingers gripping tight at your thighs, his member twitching.

“Does this feel like a dream?” you say with a grin.

“No, it- it feels good,” he manages, “So damn good…” 

You continue grinding against him, bulging veins and the ridge of his crown all stroking you sinfully with each pass.  Before long, you’re able to angle yourself so your clit rubs against his cockhead as your hips sway, and you let out a pleasured whine that sends a shiver through him.  By now, he’s coated in your arousal, his length glistening with your release.  

“Can you feel how wet I am for you?”

“Nngh, yeah,” he groans, “Fuck, so hot…”

For a moment, you feel his hands at your hips trying to guide you onto him, his body bucking slightly towards you, seeking you out.  You smile and place a brief kiss to his lips, then say,

“You can stop holding back now, Shane.” 

His arm wraps around your midsection, warm and sturdy, and he turns you onto your back.  A few awkward moments pass in a frenzy as he shifts his discarded shirt under you to ensure your comfort, and you fumble a hand to the side to grab the condom from your shorts’ pocket.  He seems surprised that you’d had it on hand, but opens it and rolls it down onto his length regardless. His brow is handsomely furrowed as he guides the tip to your entrance.  You watch him in a blissful haze, arms wrapped loosely around his broad shoulders, and you gasp as he begins to push into you.  

“Ohh..!” 

Each inch of his thick cock stretches you wonderfully as he thrusts forward, and your head tilts back, your toes curl.  Once inside of you, he hooks an arm under one of your knees, holding your legs spread open as he fills you.

“Fuck, you feel even better than I imagined…” 

Your face warms at the thought that he’d fantasized about this- perhaps even pleasured himself to the thought of you.  You’ll have to pursue that train of thought later- right now, you can’t think of anything but how damn good it feels to finally have him.  To feel his body start to move in tandem with yours, massaging the bulging contours of his cock into you.  To see him looking at you like you’re some unearthly beauty.  

You pull Shane down to you and kiss him, your tongue sliding into his mouth and coaxing him further.  With a groan, he drives his hips forward, stuffing you full of him until you’ve taken him to the base of his throbbing member.  Gasping and whimpering blissfully into his mouth, your nails rake along his strong shoulders and into his hair.  Somewhere in the back of your pleasure-dazed mind, it occurs to you that if anyone happened to stop by the farm today, they’d easily hear your cries through the flimsy walls of the chicken coop.  You quickly decide that you don’t care; in this moment, nothing is more important than showing Shane how you feel about him.  He needs to know that he’s cared for, wanted, desired.  

He pulls away from your kiss, and on instinct, you tug him back down to you with your arms around his neck.  At first, he relents, relaxing back into your embrace and kissing you over and over while he bucks into you at a steady pace.  Eventually, however, he decisively straightens his back to kneel over you, his thrusts slowing but never ceasing- you’re not sure he could bring himself to stop rubbing himself against your clenching inner walls.  Just when you’re about to question him, he brings a hand between your legs, his thumb fumbling a bit clumsily at first until he strokes across your stiffened clit.  

“Ohh… fuck, right there..!” 

“Like this?”

“Yeah- ohh, yes, just like that!”

Shane takes your direction well- a bit unsure at first, the moment he finds the right pressure, the right pace, the right angle, he memorizes your preference.  Your legs wrap around his midsection, pulling him close until he’s sheathed deeply in you while his fingers tease your clit.  His free hand grips at your thigh as he watches you squirming and arching beneath him.  He’s entranced.

“S’that good?”

You nod, biting at your lower lip.

“So good, Shane… c-close- I’m gonna..!  Mmmh!” 

“Fuck-” he exhales, his hips bucking more forcefully into you, “Let me feel it.  Please, Y/N, I- I wanna feel you cum..!” 

Your thighs are trembling, your cunt squeezing tight around him.  Eyes hazy, you manage to meet his adoring gaze as you inch closer and closer to the edge.  Your hands scramble to grab onto anything, and only find the hay and his shirt beneath you.  He’s massaging your tender clit just right, his cock stretching you perfectly.  Shane is determined to satisfy you- his focus is relentless, reverent affection openly shining in his eyes.  Soon, gasping his name, your eyes roll back as you’re swallowed in a wave of mind-numbing pleasure.  And it seems bringing you to this blissful release breaks through to something in him.  

Before you’ve even fully recovered from the aftershocks of your orgasm, he lowers himself to you and wraps an arm around your waist.  His cock draws out from you nearly to the tip, then slams back in, forcing a desperate cry from your lips.  The next thrust is every bit as forceful, and you’re certain he’d be pushing you away from him if he weren’t holding you so close.  Shane maintains this pace, fucking into you with long, powerful strokes of his cock that never become fast enough to numb you to the sensation.  Your limbs feel weak, your head fuzzy and thoughts scrambled.

Shane’s lips find the crook of your neck, spoiling you with deep, erotic kisses.  When he marks you, it’s not the precious, playful little love-bites you left him; his marks are dark bruises, his teeth pressing to you until just before the pain becomes too much and leaving you branded with his lust.  Your nails scrape across his back, and in the moment, neither of you even notice.  Swollen red lines left as souvenirs will be a lasting reminder of your shared passions. 

“So tight… nngh, fuck-” he grunts your name against your skin, “Dunno… how much more of this I can take…”

“It’s okay, Shane,” you say softly between gasping moans, “I- I want it..!  Please-!” 

His kiss presses you down against the bed of hay.  His hands run up your sides, pulling you back against his thrusts, ensuring that the head of his cock hits deep with each push.  Then, panting for breath with his forehead resting on yours, you feel his climax in every part of his body on yours.  You feel the way his cock swells and lurches with each spurt of cum.  The way his hands hold almost painfully tight at your waist.  The way his muscles tense, his frame shivers, his voice stalls between grunting moans.  He’s gorgeous- and you can’t help breathing out his name as your own body feels both boneless and weightless beneath him.  Then at last, you exhale in unison, bodies still tangled together as muscles go slack.

You imagine you look an utter mess.  Stray bits of straw poke through your hair, to say nothing of the sweat shared between your body and Shane’s.  You’re marked up, red in the face and short of breath- and you can’t recall the last time you felt so wonderfully satisfied.  Gazing up at Shane as he regains his bearings- to some measure of success, anyway -he looks about the same as you figure you do.  It’s a cute look on him. 

“Always knew you had that in you somewhere,” you say with a coy, if hazy grin.  

“Did you?” his voice scratches awkwardly in his throat, but he returns your smile, “You’ll have to catch me up, cause apparently you knew where today was going a whole lot better than I did.” 

Perhaps just now remembering that his cock is still inside of you, he carefully pulls out, stifling a groan at that last precious moment of friction.  He removes the filled condom while giving a short, incredulous laugh.

“I mean, you even had this thing on hand.”

“Grabbed it when I went inside for water,” you say with a casual shrug, “Watching you working up a sweat out here got me thinking.” 

Shane repeats that same laugh, rubbing the back of his neck with a hand.

“You’re a weird one, you know that?”

“And you don’t even know how hot you are,” you reply, unshaken. 

“There you go again,” he huffs out as he collapses onto the hay beside you, “Saying stuff that makes me crazy.”

Without a word needed between you, Shane loops an arm around your waist and pulls you on top of him, and you gladly follow.  Evidently, he no longer cares about the scratching of the straw at his back.  You figure it couldn’t compare with the scratches you’d left to linger there, anyway.

“I’ll keep saying it until you believe it,” you lean in, still smiling as you kiss him once more.  At long last, he kisses you back in a way that feels certain and unafraid.  When you draw away, his hand has come to cradle the side of your face, and he looks at you.  Just looks at you.  You can only imagine what he must be thinking, but when he finally breaks the silence, he says,

“Shit, what time is it?” he glances at the door but can’t seem to get his answer from the light peaking through the cracks, “I promised I’d be home for dinner… Not that- I’m not trying to- I- I wish I could stay, honest,” he stammers, and you laugh.

“Shane, it’s fine, I know it’s important.  Why don’t I walk you back?  I can vouch for you.” 

Those dark eyes search your face for a silent moment.  

“You could… stay and help me whip up some dinner for everyone.  If you wanted.  No pressure,” he quickly adds, “I’m not trying to make this more than it is, unless you want to, but this is fine and I won’t push you or anything, it’s just… Jas always likes it when you come over.” He lets the sentence end lamely, his voice flat. 

You can’t help laughing, and you press a brief but tender kiss to his lips.

“That sounds great, Shane.  But we should probably be wearing more clothes and have less hay in our hair, first.”

[tododeku-or-bust]

I definitely feel the same way about the spoons thing bc I remember the first time I read the analogy years ago, I was initially like, oh, this is a good way to describe it - except then I noticed that the majority of the time I was seeing it in use, at least on tumblr, it was a certain type of smol bean racist white arguing that they don't have the spoons to not be racist or the spoons to do the bare minimum of caring about people other than themselves in their own heads, but somehow, they always have the spoons to be violently racist and write essays about how much they don't care about other people, so every time I see it now, my hackles get raised bc I expect racist shit to come next.

Also, they never care that POC don't have the spoons to deal with their racism or educate them for free bc they are racist and also think only white people can be disabled, autistic, mentally ill, poor, oppressed, etc.

Period 🤷🏾‍♀️ there are like, maybe two things on here where I fall on the "no actually, I'm just gonna have to be the bitch in this situation" and the spoons thing is one of them.

The chronic stress of dealing with antiblackness is so bad that it has been genetically passed down through generations of Black Americans. It is so ubiquitous that it subtly affects our every decision, we've just grown used to it. But y'all want me to worry about the "spoons" of someone who's actively trying to avoid being held accountable or being asked to at least TRY to do better.

And it does! It always gets brought up when someone's like "oh well I have anxiety I can't care about thing" okay well you weren't concerned about that blogger of color's depression or anxiety when you chose to be racist to them! You weren't concerned about mental health then! That coulda been someone's thirteenth reason, while you think you're "escaping". But as soon as they clap back, suddenly you're the victim in this scenario. Whatever.

If I got on this app and said "sorry, I don't have the spoons to care about white trans rights" on every post every single time another white trans kid was killed, y'all would have me lynched. But we've been seeing some variation of that for Palestinian children for a YEAR. mm. So clearly the spoons are available, just for certain people!

So no, I don't care that you "lack spoons". Grab a fucking fork then lmao. Or admit that you're a willful racist. But I'm tired of the excuses. I'm sorry. Like I said, I'll be the bitch on this one, that's fine. People of color are far past the utensils and y'all expect it of us. Your turn!

[jenniferjareauwife]

hi hi it’s me again😇

this is an oddly specific request of mine but i just really wanna be a cowgirl LMAO

what about something where jj brings r (girlfriend) to finally meet the team, and it turns out r is literally just a cowgirl from texas with a proper southern drawn and a twang in her voice n all. nobody expected that country girls would be jj’s type but when the team sees just how in love she is with r it all makes sense.

thank you sm babe, hope ur good, luv ya!🫶🏻

Southern

pairing: jennifer jareau x cowgirl fem reader

category: fluff

warnings: none

word count: 826

summary: you're jj's girlfriend from texas and you're meeting her team for the first time

a/n: hiiii i missed you 🫶🏼 i love you too and i hope you're doing ok! also...i kinda wanna write a part 2 with smut...let me know if you're up for that but i'm gonna assume it's a yes

"Are ya sure they'll like me?" I put my hands on my hips while JJ kissed my cheek.

"Of course they'll like you baby. You're amazing." I bit my lip and fixed my flannel a bit. The first three buttons were undone and the bottom of the shirt was tucked into my jean shorts. "Let's just go, ok?"

"Ok." I sighed as she grabbed my hand, pulling me into her friends apartment.

"Hey everyone! This is my girlfriend...y/n." JJ introduced me with an arm around my waist, keeping me close.

"Hi!" They all said almost at the same time.

"Hey y'all!" I turned to JJ with a rosy blush. "Now what do I do? This feels awkward." I leaned into her.

"That's because Derek is staring at your boobs."

"Don't get yourself all tore up about it. I know my assets." I pecked her lips, feeling her smiling into the kiss.

"Where are you from?" I pulled away from the kiss and looked towards a raven haired lady who had asked the question.

"Texas. Do y'all have any Coke?"

"Mhm. Right over here hon." A happy blonde lady led me over to the kitchen. I saw a bunch of soda cans sitting on the table so I picked up a Sprite. "I thought you wanted a Coke."

"Yeah. Coke. Soda is Coke where I'm from." I explained, taking a sip. "I've never been to the north."

"You haven't?" She crinkled her nose while smiling and I almost jumped when I felt a pair of arms snake around my waist but then relaxed when I realized it was JJ.

"If it wasn't for this girl I would still be down south." I took another sip of my soda, leaning back into my girl.

"She likes it up here." JJ kissed my cheek. "We're gonna go up to Boston next weekend."

"Yeah?" Penelope sat down on the couch and I soon realized everyone else had made their way into the room.

"Hey y/n. I'm Spence. It's nice to meet you." I shook hands with a tall lanky brunette. I had to tilt my head up to meet his eyes.

"I'm Derek. But people call me Morgan." I shook his hand and smiled. So this was the guy that was staring at my boobs, and he still was. I might as well put on a little show for him. I unbuttoned my shirt a bit further before looking back at JJ. She blushed before pulling me down onto a chair so I could sit on her lap.

"Jareau, I didn't know cowgirls were your kind of thing." Morgan smirked before sitting down next to Penelope. I felt a twang of insecurity in my chest but I pushed it away, wrapping my arms around JJ's shoulders and holding her close. I was big on PDA and when I found out JJ's love language was physical touch I used it as much as I could, wanting to make her feel loved.

"Well I've never met someone as special as her. So she's definitely my thing." She gently caressed my waist with her thumb.

"So what's it like down in Texas?" Morgan imitated my accent.

"There's a lot of rednecks and shotguns down there." I said back with my souther sass. JJ squeezed my waist, telling me to back down a bit but I couldn't help it. Being from the south and dealing with jackasses everyday had sort of become a part of my personality. I crossed my legs on her lap, staring Morgan down.

"How long have you two been together?" Emily asked.

"Nine months." JJ and I said at the same time.

"Nine months...you guys met on our case in Texas?" Emily smiled as she put the pieces together.

"I met her at a bar, she was kicking them out after a fight."

"They got in a big hissy fit over who the girl was looking at." I rolled my eyes. "Men can be so fragile." JJ kissed my jaw, making me blush. I wasn't one to blush but I was a sucker for jaw kisses.

"Let's get out of here." She whispered.

"What?"

"You've met them good enough, let's go." She dragged me outside and the door was barely closed before she had me pushed against the wall, kissing me passionately. "You were so hot back there."

"Hey ladies-" I heard an unfamiliar voice and froze. JJ backed off of my slowly but leaned in to cover my chest. "Sorry...I was just wondering if you wanted some cupcakes?" It was Penelope.

"Yeah Pen, thanks." JJ took the plate from her and waited for her to leave before making out with me again.

"Jayje, not in the hallway, sugar." I pushed her away a bit.

"You're gonna be the death of me." She groaned against my lips before kissing all over my face.

"Well you love me."

"You're right. I love you so much."

"I love you more."