#zooms in and loses my mind a little more and more | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

katsu28 · 7 months ago

Text

home is wherever you are

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

summary: secretly falling in love with your best friend is tough. secretly falling in love with your best friend who also happens to be your roommate is even less than ideal. the solution? move out! (hint: it isn’t a very good one.) (5k)

warnings: angst with a happy ending, a smidge of google translated french lol

a/n: CHARLES LECLERC!!! CHARLES LECLERC!!!!LECLERC!!! LECLERAUGHCOUGHCOUGH

“I still cannot believe you’re abandoning me.”

Charles shoved another box of your things into the boot of your car rather huffily, as if to reiterate just how unhappy he was.

“I’m not abandoning you, I’m moving out of your apartment.” You sighed, rolling your eyes playfully at him. You passed him the last box off the ground, wiping your hands off on your shorts before propping them on your hips.

“That is quite literally the same thing.” He mirrored your stance in total seriousness, frown unwavering. “And it’s not my apartment, it’s yours now too. Your home.”

You’d been living with Charles for a while now, having been suddenly evicted from your own place three, almost four years ago. With nowhere else to go, you’d turned to your best friend, and Charles had welcomed you with open arms, giving you a home when you’d needed it most.

There were many good things about living with Charles—he liked to cook (which boded well with you, seeing as you were no master chef yourself. Except for when he’d gone through a questionable phase of combining cuisines that did not go well together.), he was respectful of set boundaries and agreed upon rules. You had the same taste in shows and movies, which made for little fighting when it came to deciding on what to watch.

But most notably, he loved to play the piano. It was a hobby he’d picked up during long days spent staying at home, and he was good at it too. An electronic keyboard when he’d first started out, just to see if it was something he was serious about, but as he zoomed through the basics with ease, he’d splurged on a gorgeous white piano that stood proudly in the living room.

Soon enough, it wasn’t unusual for the apartment to be full of music, beautiful songs of Charles’ own composing.

He played whenever he had the feeling. Whenever he had something on his mind, whenever he was bored, anything, he’d spend hours at the piano, playing, playing, playing. Some might’ve called it annoying, but not you. You found it rather soothing.

It had very quickly become a habit of yours to fall asleep listening to Charles play. Something about it seemed to always relax you just enough to the point where you could pretty much fall asleep anywhere if he was at the bench.

Your favorite spot was on the sofa with a big blanket, watching him get lost in the notes until you drifted off. More often than not, you could rarely get a good night’s sleep without Charles’ accompaniment—your very own version of white noise.

But truth be told, this past year of living together with Charles had been trickier than the first couple. You couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment things began to change, but something had definitely shifted between you.

You’d been trying to write it off just the two of you being very close, but you’d been dancing on the line of close friends and more than friends for a long time. Falling asleep together cuddled on the sofa, lingering touches whilst you were in the same room and in passing, hugs that lasted a little too long to be considered normal.

The more your feelings for Charles grew, the more worried you became. Worried about what, you weren’t exactly sure. All you knew was you didn’t want to lose the longest and best friendship you’d ever had because you went and fell in love.

“I know. But I think it’s well past time I get out of your hair and try being on my own for once.” You said softly, stepping in to fold yourself into Charles’ arms.

Most of that was true. You did feel like you needed to live by yourself for a chance, to see what it was like to be fully independent in your adult life. You’d moved in with Charles when you were twenty two, and you were twenty five now. It was time for you to venture out on your own.

But the uncertainty of falling in love with your best friend was definitely also a contributing factor.

He made a displeased sound at your words, but tucked you under his chin nonetheless. “I don’t want you to get out of my hair. My hair likes it with you here.”

“I live fifteen minutes away, Cha. I’m not moving across the country. You and your hair can come over anytime.” You scoffed, giving him a gentle poke in the ribs. “And I��ll come over here all the time too, you know that.”

“Fine, fine. I don’t know what I am supposed to do with your empty room now, but I’ll figure it out. Maybe I will take up scrapbooking. Knitting. Needlepoint, maybe. Turn it into a craft room.”

“Maybe you can turn it into a music room. Move the keyboard in there, your piano.”

“Ah, bien entendu, my piano. How will you ever fall asleep without my sweet, sweet melodies?”

“I think I will manage just fine.” You chuckled.

Charles held you at arms’ length, dark brows furrowing as he scowled. “What I’m hearing is you don’t love me anymore.”

Oh, if only he knew.

You smiled instead, patting his cheek good-naturedly. “Come on, you drama queen. I want to move in before the sun goes down.”

Charles went full protection mode the second all your belongings had made it safely inside the apartment, intently checking every lock, window, door hinge, cabinet—not an inch of the apartment went uninspected by him. When he seemed fairly satisfied with his safety checks, he returned to where you were unpacking kitchen items over by the oven.

“Everything up to your standards?” You asked, pulling out a stack of plates wrapped in brown paper. Charles shuffled over, easing them out of your hands and unwrapping them to help put them up in the cabinet. “No one is going to break in through my window tonight?”

“Don’t even joke about that.” He grumbled, chucking the balled up paper at you gently. “Everything I checked is fine. You will be safe here.”

Food was simple when it came time for dinner—takeout on the floor of your living room, because you hadn’t had the time to go shopping for a coffee table yet. Or a dining room table. Or even chairs, really. All you had were some pillows and an overturned cardboard box to put the food on.

Charles had insisted on helping you furnish the whole place before you moved in but you’d declined, saying that you wanted to get a feel for the place before filling it with everything. The last time it would be this empty would be the day you moved out.

He seemed a little quiet the rest of the night, but you didn’t press it until after dinner, whilst he was helping you with the washing up. Well, helping was a strong word.

“You’ve been drying that plate for ages now.” You observed, tilting your head at him thoughtfully. Charles inhaled sharply, shaking his head like he’d been snapped out of a stupor. He glanced down at the completely dry plate, then back up at you blankly. “What’re you thinking about?”

“You’re really going to be gone.”

“You say that like I told you I’ve only got days to live. I won’t be gone, Cha. I’ll be around.” You chuckled, flicking dish soap bubbles in his direction. Charles responded by flinging his towel at you, cracking a smile. You liked it when he smiled, hated it when he frowned. He was still unfairly attractive, but it wasn’t Charles’ scowl that made you fall in love with him.

“We can spend the day together anytime, you can come over whenever you want, and if it makes you feel any better, I will give you your very own key.”

That seemed to put him a little more in higher spirits.

“What will you ever do without me?” He wondered out loud, feigning a thoughtful expression.

“Probably clean up a lot less. Be able to take a shower without running out of hot water halfway through. Oh! Have a bottle of shampoo last more than a month because someone—not naming names, of course, won’t use it because they’ve run out of theirs. Not have to fight for—”

“Alright, alright, I get it!” Charles huffed, grabbing you by the shoulders and promptly shoving your face into his chest to stop you from talking.

You grinned against the softness of his hoodie. “Shall I go on?”

“No, no you shouldn’t.” His hold on you loosened, but you stayed right where you were, wrapping your arms around his torso. “Just admit it. You’ll miss me.”

“I will miss you.” You said softly, pressing your cheek into the crook of his neck. If there was something Charles was unbelievably good at (besides literally anything he’d ever tried), it was giving the best hugs. Something about them made you feel safe, like nothing and nobody could ever hurt you as long as you were in his arms.

“You already know how much I’m going to miss having you around.”

“Yeah, I am pretty great.”

A laugh rumbled through his chest. “You are.”

“You’ve been the best roommate I could’ve asked for. Thank you for everything.” Your words were muffled between the two of you, and you were glad for it, because he didn’t seem to notice the waver in your tone. But he did squeeze you a little tighter, so maybe he did hear you. “I love you, Cha.”

Charles’ voice seemed to waver just a bit too. “I love you too.”

“Okay, okay, you really need to leave. Go before I change my mind and make you stay.” You blurted, pushing him away playfully. It was better than letting him see you get emotional.

“Is that a promise?”

“No, it’s a threat. Go home. I will see you soon.” You gave his hand one last squeeze, nodding reassuringly to rid him of the crease between his brows. “Don’t worry about me. Go, get some rest.”

It was only then that he seemed satisfied enough to leave, but even then, he cast another backwards glance towards you on his way down the hall, as if he was waiting for you to beckon him back. You just smiled as best you could.

You’d get over it. You had to. There was still a lot you needed to get done before you called it a night.

It wasn’t until you were getting ready to go to bed that you started to feel lonely. You and Charles had your respective bedtime routines, but they always intertwined.

You never liked being the one to turn off all the lights in the apartment because the switch was at the end of the hallway opposite from your bedrooms, so he knew to do it because you hated running back through the darkness after flipping the switch.

He always filled a glass with water for late night sipping, but never remembered to actually bring it to his room until he was already in bed, so you always grabbed it for him so he wouldn’t have to make the trek back out the kitchen.

The bathroom counter was where you’d find each other the most, terrible jokes and funny stories told muffled through toothpaste bubbles, even though you could’ve just waited until you were finished to tell each other. You’d flick water at him as you washed your face because he took up too much space at the sink, he’d turn off the tap in retaliation, things like that.

Sometimes Charles would stay up later playing video games with his friends, or take some extra time to practice piano, so you wouldn’t get to do your well oiled machine routine, but he’d always take the extra second to pop into your room to say goodnight when he heard you bustling around, even if he was in the middle of something.

The times you fell asleep on the sofa to Charles’ playing the piano, he’d camp out at the other end of the sofa for the night, or at the very least made sure you were covered with a blanket if he went to sleep in his own room.

It was something you’d grown accustomed to over the years, oftentimes the well-needed end to a not so great day. Charles never failed to put a smile on your face, even with something as small and mundane as a bedtime routine.

But there was none of that as you ran through your routine this time.

You didn’t hear him shuffling around over in the other room, the muffled sounds of his shouts as he played his games, and most of all, you didn’t hear him and his piano.

Because there was no Charles. Of course there wasn’t. You were in this new place that you hadn’t had quite nearly enough of a chance to get used to yet, alone, and it was finally settling in.

Suddenly moving out and away from him seemed like the worst decision in the world.

You knew it was only the first night. You had to give yourself a chance to reacclimate, and that would take time. So you inhaled a deep breath, trying to get as comfy as you could for a long, probably sleepless night ahead.

It was nearing four in the morning when you finally decided to give up and call Charles. Part of you thought he might not even pick up the phone, because he was probably asleep. Any sane person would be sleeping right now.

Much to your surprise, he answered on the second ring.

“Why are you awake?” You asked, maybe a bit harshly.

“Um, you are the one who called me? Why are you awake?” He replied, groggy voice still teasing. His accent always grew thicker when he was sleepy. You thought it was adorable. “You cannot sleep, can you?”

“...No.” Your voice grew smaller. You felt embarrassed at the fact that you couldn’t even make it one full night without Charles around. “I just…I wanted to hear your voice, I guess. I miss you already, Cha.”

Charles fell silent for a few moments, the only sound on his side of the line being his gentle exhales. “I miss you too. Do you want me to come over? I can stay the night, if you want.”

“No. No, you don’t need to do that.” You said softly. “Can you just talk to me?”

This was also something that had become somewhat of a ritual when either of you couldn’t sleep.

You’d tiptoe into each other’s rooms quiet as a mouse, slipping into bed beside the other. Charles always stirred when he felt the bed dip under your weight, half asleep but still reaching out to pull you against his chest like it was second nature. On the occasions when he came into your room, you’d feel him tuck himself close to you, nosing against any part of you he could find with a content sigh.

There was no rhyme or reason to the things you’d talk about in those moments, but eventually, somehow, you’d both end up asleep, usually fairly quickly. Maybe it was the extra added comfort of each other that helped, you could never tell.

It wasn’t unusual to wake up a jumble of limbs tangled together, and neither of you ever addressed it either. Just went on with your business as usual, never talking about it because it was just something you did. To help each other sleep, of course.

Another thing that really blurred the line between friends and more.

Charles hummed a noncommittal sound, soft and fond like he always was around you. “I’ll do you one better. How about I play some music for you?”

“Yes, please. Thank you.” You sighed, relieved. He knew what you needed without you even having to ask.

You heard him get up, footsteps padding along until there was a thud and some shuffling coming from Charles’ side. A few warm up scales in and you were already feeling a little less anxious, letting yourself get comfortable.

“Any requests from the audience?”

“Been working on anything new?” You yawned, nuzzling a little deeper back into your pillow.

“I have, actually. It’s still—fuck, how do you say it…a work in progress?”

“Anything you play is perfect.”

“You flatter me.” He snorted. “Alright, here goes nothing.”

He began to play. You knew jack shit about music, so there wasn’t much you could think of to describe how it sounded, but you could describe how it felt. You could almost feel the emotion pouring from his playing, even through the scratchy quality of the speaker.

It felt like something you’d hear in the background of a movie montage, lilting and delicate and warm notes swirling together to create a bright melody, and you couldn’t help but let your mind wander.

Memories of good times with Charles flashed through your head—all the long days and even longer nights you’d spent together because you thrived in each other’s company, cooking together, binging Netflix shows until you both passed out on the sofa.

Hushed laughing during dinners at fancy restaurants that Charles could get into by flashing his name, soft conversations accompanied with expensive food and even more expensive wine.

Day trips up the coast with the top down on the car, pushing the speed limit just to feel an ounce of the freedom that it could give you. Walking through Monte Carlo on late night gelato runs, switching flavors because you both enjoyed each other’s choice more than your own.

Most of all, you thought of the love you felt for Charles, ever since you’d first met him. You’d never been one to believe in the concept of soulmates, but fuck, it was so easy to think of him as yours. Never had you felt as much for someone as you did for him.

God, why were you even thinking of those things?

It would never happen. Any love that Charles had for you would be strictly platonic, limited to however much one could love their best friend.

Surely he’d drawn inspiration from something else when he’d composed the beautiful piece. You weren’t sure if you wanted to know.

Soon enough, you’d drifted off like you always did when Charles played, coincidentally right before he came to a lingering stop.

Had you been awake, you would’ve heard him say that the beautiful piece had been inspired by you. Instead you were fast asleep, still none the wiser to anything. Maybe it was a good thing. You might not have believed it if you’d heard him.

-------

Charles was on your doorstep first thing in the morning, coffee and pastries in hand when you opened the door for him.

“Hello, good morning, your savior is here. And with breakfast!” He chirped, coming to just enough of a halt for you to slide an arm around his shoulders in a hug and grab one of the drinks out of the tray before he swept past you.

Bright morning sunlight poured into the open area, washing the whole place aglow. A warm breeze floated in through the ajar window, rattling the shutters only slightly, and you could hear the all too familiar sounds of the city in the morning coming from the streets below. It was a gorgeous picture of peace; one of the apartment’s many fun quirks that convinced you to go for it in the first place.

The only thing that might’ve rivaled the beauty of the moment was Charles standing at the window, leaning against the sill drinking his coffee while the breeze ruffled his hair. His back was to you as he checked out the view, but even the mere image of him here was nice.

You sipped your own coffee, smiling to yourself when you realized Charles remembered exactly how you took it. You didn’t even need to look inside the bag to know they were your favorite pastries from the bakery down the street from your former apartment that both you and Charles loved. He was always thoughtful like that. Things like remembering your favorite foods and drinks, and going out of his way to get them as a little pick-me-up.

It seemed wrong to ruin the moment, but you felt like you had to say something.

“I’m sorry for waking you up last night.” You sighed, taking a cross-legged seat on a pillow.

Charles turned away from the window, shaking his head quickly. He took a seat on the floor next to you, long legs stretching out towards your crossed ones to nudge a sneaker against your socked foot. “There’s nothing to be sorry about, I’m glad you called me.”

“Right, but it’s kind of pathetic, isn’t it? First time on my own and I didn’t even last a whole night.”

“Not pathetic.” He insisted, entirely firm in his words. He set his cup down as if it could strengthen his point. “It is a change, definitely. You can’t expect yourself to get used to such a big change immediately. It takes time, you know.”

You messed with the lid of your cup, picking at the plastic with a scowl. “I know. But I can’t always come running to you whenever I need help. It’s not fair to you to have to keep rescuing me every time I need saving.”

“Okay…” He trailed off, stretching out the last syllable in confusion. “I feel this is about something more than just last night. We can talk about it, if you would like?”

“I don’t know what it is.” You huffed. “I thought I was ready to be on my own, but maybe I’m not. Maybe I don’t know I’m doing and I’ll never figure it out, and—”

“Whoa, whoa, slow down. Where is this all coming from?”

“I don’t know,” You repeated, bordering on a whine. “But what I do know is that I can’t always keep relying on you for everything. It’s not good for me, or for you.”

“You know, you could always just move back home if you’re truly not ready to do things on your own.” Charles offered, taking a casual sip of his own drink.

Home. He said it so casually, like home was with him instead of this new place you’d chosen to make yours. In a way, Charles was your home. Safety, comfort, love—all the things that made something home, you felt with him.

That was the problem. You didn’t feel right relying on him for all those things, not without him being aware of how you actually felt about him. It seemed like too much of a burden to put on a friend, even one as perfect as Charles.

His eyes met yours over the rim and he shrugged. “I still don’t know why you were so insistent on moving out in the first place.”

You sighed, again. There weren’t many ways you could make yourself any clearer. Other than telling Charles one of the real reasons why you had to leave, which again, was more of a last resort (hopefully not at all) type of thing. “It was time—”

“It was time for you to venture out on your own, yes, I know. But it doesn’t seem to be working out so well right now, does it not?” The last sentence seemed to slip out of Charles’ mouth before he knew what he was saying, because his mouth snapped shut right afterward. “I’m—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to come out like that. I don’t want to argue.”

But what had been done was done, what had been said was out there for you to know. Your coffee suddenly left a bitter taste in your mouth, and the traffic from outside became glaringly loud. The once peaceful atmosphere had been shattered now that you knew Charles’ true thoughts on it all.

You stood up, letting your feet take you across the room from him. “No. Tell me more, Charles. Tell me how you really feel.”

His nose wrinkled at the use of his full name. You never called him Charles unless you were upset with him, which wasn’t that often. Even hearing it come out of your own mouth seemed foreign.

That seemed to change his reaction, because he stood too instead, doubling down on his words. “Okay. Yes, that is how I feel about you leaving. You barely even talked to me about it, and the next thing I knew, you were packing all your things into boxes! I didn’t understand where this—this sudden desire to leave came from. I still don’t.”

“You don’t have to understand it. It’s already done.”

“Did I—did I do something wrong?”

You almost faltered. Almost.

“Did you ever think maybe me wanting to leave had nothing to do with you?”

“Honestly? No. It feels like it has everything to do with me. It feels like you moved out because you didn’t want to be around me anymore!” Charles exclaimed. “And I have kept my mouth shut, I’ve been trying to be supportive of your decision, but I think I have a right to know. Am I why you wanted to leave so badly?”

“That’s…part of it.” You admitted. Charles froze, brows flying up towards his hairline. “But not because of anything you did. Not because of the reason you’re thinking of.”

“I don’t really see any other explanation. And I am sorry, but that is a shit excuse. I would’ve thought that you of all people would tell me the truth.” He didn’t sound angry, just disappointed and a little hurt. Somehow that felt worse. You’d rather him be mad at you than hurt by you.

“I didn’t want to move out.” You said firmly.

“Then why did you?”

“I had to! I—I couldn’t live there anymore.”

“But why?” He sounded desperate, begging for you to clue him in to any reason, anything at all that would help him understand. And god, as scared as you were of changing things by telling Charles how you really felt about him, you were infinitely more scared of losing him for good if you didn’t.

“Because I’m fucking in love with you, Charles!” You blurted, finally. “I couldn’t live with you any longer, keeping this huge secret all the time, because it truly made me feel like I was about to explode. I just couldn’t do it anymore—pretend like everything was alright when every time I looked at you, all I could think about was how I felt about you! How much I felt for you.” Your voice rose with every word, emotion lacing your tone.

You could feel the tears burning your eyes, threatening to fall no matter how much you willed them not to. “I just thought, maybe if we lived apart, if we didn’t see each other all the time, maybe those feelings would go away.”

Charles blinked at you slowly. He scrubbed a hand over his cheek, across his mouth, letting it disappear into the neckline of his hoodie as he continued the motion near his jaw. Still, he said nothing. You weren’t sure if it was a good sign or a bad one, but still you continued.

“So no, it wasn’t because of anything you did. Or maybe it was, for making it so fucking easy to fall in love with you. I don’t know. I’m sorry if I made you feel like you couldn’t say anything to me, but I’m not sorry for making the decision on my own. It was for the best.”

There it was, out there in the open at last. It felt like a proverbial weight lifted off your shoulders, but at the same time like a thousand rocks sinking to the bottom of your stomach, because he wasn’t saying anything. Maybe this was it. Maybe this was how you’d fuck up the best friendship you’d ever had.

Charles was silent for the longest time before he replied, and when he did, his voice was quieter than you’d ever heard it before. It felt unnerving. “You could’ve just told me.”

“Told you?” You had to fight the urge to let out a bitter, watery laugh. “Telling your best friend you’ve fallen in love with him isn’t just something you mention at the bathroom sink one night.”

“It is, if he feels the same way about you.”

A coldness crept down your neck, shooting through your veins like you’d just had a bucket of ice cold water dumped over your head.

“No you’re not—you don't...you can't.” You whispered, disbelieving.

Charles’ brows furrowed in confusion. “What, do you want me to prove it?”

You couldn’t give him an answer even if you wanted to. You weren’t sure if you could trust yourself to say a damn word, just in case this was all a dream and you'd wake up any second, still alone, still without him there.

He must’ve taken your silence as a yes to his question, because he crossed the room in three strides, took your face in firm hands, and he kissed you.

Despite your utter shock, you managed to kiss him back clumsily, fingers curling into his hoodie tightly. Charles kissed you like he was afraid to let you go, like you’d slip through his fingers if he wasn’t careful enough.

A guiding hand curled around the back of your neck, angling your head so he could deepen the kiss, but only for a few seconds before he broke away, panting. His forehead stayed pressed against yours, soulful green eyes boring into your own in total seriousness.

“Do you believe me now?”

“Maybe.” You breathed, letting your nose bump against his gently. This was not a dream. Charles was real and here and one hell of a kisser (just as you suspected).

“I am in love with you.” He murmured, stroking his thumb over your cheek fondly. “I have been for a long time. And I never thought you would feel the same way.”

“I love you, Cha.” You were suddenly brought back to last night, when you’d uttered the same words to him. Only this time, they had a whole different meaning to them.

This time, you knew Charles loved you in the same way you loved him.

follow @katsu-library to be notified when i post new fics :)

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #cl16 x reader #charles leclerc x fem!reader #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc x you #cl16 #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc one shot #truly this was only supposed to be like 2k words #this man invokes many emotions in me what can i say #if u made it this far into my tags hi hello i hope u enjoyed and thank u for reading! i appreciate u <3

1K notes · View notes

evilminji · 7 months ago

Text

I think I figured it out?

My favorite thing to do with Danny? And the Zone in General?

Is to just... zoom out a bit, maybe move stage left, leave the trouble and (most of the) dramatics of his teen years behind and just? Discover that not all of Death is War. Not every Obsession is violence.

Sometimes it's owning a fancy little soaps shop. Or that PERFECT garden of their dreams, where they can share with EVERYBODY, that they could never manage in life. Maybe it's the universe biggest Comics library.

Yeah, when you can't die and pain is kinda subjective, a good ol fashioned brawl IS the best way to communicate. Fist to Fist, ecto to ecto, come out the otherside understanding each other a bit better. But like?

.....you could ALSO just use your damn words, you know? Maybe some of us don't WANT to fight.

The freedom to Do Anything? Means a good chunk of us will say "Nah, we good". And move on to do other, non-violent things! Not every Area of the Zone is the SAME you know. It's like countries. Or, well, Galaxies? Since it IS far more spread out then any country will ever be.

It's why Danny probably didn't notice. Thought his area was all there is. It's the standard "my neighborhood is the default. Normal for everywhere" mindset that people unknowingly tend to have before they travel much. It's not like he had any chance to learn otherwise.

He had school in the morning. Had to stick close in case a fight broke out. How FAR could he truely travel? The end of the metaphorical street? The next block over? The Far Frozen alone was pushing it!

But then! He defeats the Tyrant of his Area of the Zone. And it's like a map filling in, in the back of his head. Perfect outline of what's "his" and "not his". And??? Wait, wut?

Why is he not surprised the Observants fuckin Lied? Pariah wasn't King Of Everything! He was king of... *head starts to violently hurt as he tries to grasp the scale of things* ow, Ow, OW! Bad idea! BAD IDEA!!! A chunk? Yeah, big chunk! Let's go with that!

It was APPARENTLY like saying "ruler of the known world". Other countries very much still existed, just APPARENTLY didn't count. Good to know! AFTER THE FACT.

At least HIS territory likes the "Wooooo! Anarchyyyyyy!" Goverment model. Frees him up to do other shit. He can come back to it LATER. But FIRST? :) Get? :) The FUCK :) Off his lawn! :) *kicks everyone back through the portal* *closes it* AND STAY INSIDE THE ZONE!

Abuse of power? Sorry, he can't hear you over his magically recovering sleep schedule and GPA. The fact he might ACTUALLY graduate. His new favorite past time of watch the GIW slowly losing both their funding AND minds. Mmmmmm~ relaxing!

He graduates.

He is the son of crazy people with a shit GPA. His parents may have finally come around on ghosts, started over on their research... with a frankly ALARMING enthusiasm, but? You can't undo decades of damage. The Fenton name is untouchable.

He applies anyway.

Goes ghost for the first time in over a year.

Is... bigger. Starlight and ice. Royal. It feels right, settled in a way. More HIM then his skin could ever hope to be. He notes it, but doesn't linger. Decides to find out what's OUTSIDE "his" territory.

And...

Huh.

The answer depends?

In one direction? An endless battle. From horizen to horizon, like shooting stars. Crashing and smashing, weapons clanging and ringing. Mad blood stained grins. Worthy opponents. A challenge that goes on forevermore.

He...backs away slowly.

Going sorta, up-ish? Leads to a weirdly muted stillness. Muffled. He can't find anybody. But the doors here are pretty... worn. He doesn't want to keep pushing.

Finally, he tries at an angle to the right. And? Spots a patrol? They look nervous to see him, but hold their ground. He asks what's in this direction. Is polite. They look incredibly relieved.

Which is how Danny? Learns about the SINGLE BEST thing ever. The thing I actively fantasize about. Long for. And gift to him because I can.

Floating island cities FULL of highly specific little shops and passion pursuits. All for damn near free, because they are mostly doing it for THEM and you just happen to be there. The islands go one for days in every direction. Overflow with color and sound and the flash of ghosts flying too and frow.

Stunned, Danny, jaw on the floor. Wanders the streets.

Finds a space themed shop and feels his eyes dilate like a cat. Mine ™. He gets a book on "First Astronaut's of their Species" and some BESPOKE space meme socks. Looks around. Decides that this? This is where his doing ALL his shopping from now on.

He's pretty sure he sees a shop dedicated solely to canned food from across the Multiverse.

There is a sale on corn(non radioactive), apparently.

He tells EVERYBODY. Well, Fenton and friends "everybody". But you get the idea! The shopping trip they organize? Is legendary. His Father finds a Fudge shop and probably scares the local ghost population with his mad Fudge Glee cackling. Mom found a weapon smith. And an old fashion lace maker. Jazz? Lost to the world of intergalactic boy bands and psychology textbooks.

Tucker made a running slide straight for the nearest tech shop. Then the butcher. And Sam?

........m....maybe if he doesn't ask? He can claim plausible deniability?

@hdgnj @legitimatesatanspawn @hypewinter @lolottes @nerdpoe

#dp #danny fenton #danny phantom #minji's writing #Zone Shops Au #Shops of Wonder Au

490 notes · View notes

lovings4turn · 9 months ago

Text

ᯓ★ 𝐌𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 (𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐒)

— a few days have passed since you last saw lando, yet your feelings are as strong as ever. there’s nothing like another party to finally set the record straight. (3.2k words)

+ aka. part two of don’t delete the kisses (and my longest fic to date on this blog !!)

+ again mentions of drinking and clubbing, largely fluff . lando n reader are only slightly tipsy ! this took far too long to get out but she's finally here - hope you all enjoy !!!

it had been three days since you’d gone to the club, and three days since you’d consequently fled from the club due to your inability to act normally around lando norris.

you hadn’t seen him since then, but you’d texted back and forth from the morning afterwards. you’d felt bad about the whole thing, just leaving without even finding him to say goodbye, and so made up some excuse about getting too overwhelmed and not wanting to ruin his night with your desire to go home.

and because he was an angel, lando didn’t even question you. instead, he instantly accepted your explanation, assuring you it was more than fine as long as you were okay. he could go without a goodbye, if it meant the best for you.

eighty percent of your subsequent conversations were complete nonsense. ever since you had became close all those years ago, lando had taken it upon himself to text you every single thought he ever had, no matter how menial or silly.

embarrassingly, as a result of being down so, completely, horrifically bad for him, you found each and every one endearing. yes, even the god-awful memes he would send you religiously between the hours of two and five am when he couldn’t sleep.

perhaps it was even worse that you’d go on to forward said memes to other friends, pretending that you had found them. you were unable to prevent the laughs that would escape your lips every time your phone buzzed with a notification from lando.

one on hand, you were on top of the world. on the other, you were going insane.

lando had positively taken over your mind, every corner of your head filled with deep brown curls and impish laughter. even the most menial things proved to link back to lando in some way, a tangled red string of association that to anyone else would make zero sense but was obvious to you.

you were icarus, and lando the sun; something to dream of but never to have. you were certain that if you chased him, your wax wings would melt rapidly as you succumbed to your impulses before you crashed onto the harsh ground of reality.

learning to cope with the heavy feeling of yearning was something you could do. suffering with a little heartache to keep lando in your life far outweighed not having lando at all.

being definitive in your decision to bury your feelings didn’t mean it wasn’t a struggle, though.

now more than ever, it seemed impossible to not think about lando, or talk about him, shout his name from the rooftops so the whole world could hear the praises you would sing for him. it appeared to be a pretty clear sign that you were losing any remaining shreds of self control, but what could you do? no matter how many times your head said no, your heart would tell you that it would always be lando, one thousand times over.

a notification lit up your phone screen, and you were convinced it was a sort of cruel taunt from the universe.

landonorris just posted a photo!

it was borderline masochistic, the way in which you tapped the notification instantly and allowed yourself to be led to lando’s latest instagram photo dump. alongside a few selfies, pictures of him from that night in the club were littered throughout, and though he was posing with friends in each photo, your eyes were focused solely on him.

without really thinking, you pinched the screen, zooming in a little further to admire every detail of lando’s face that had been captured by someone’s iphone. the moles that were dotted across his face like they’d been individually placed there, the unruly curls that begged your fingers to find a home in them, and that fucking smile.

realisation hit soon after, and you caught yourself with a groan. here you were, sitting looking at his pictures with a dopey, love-sick grin on your face, acting like a teenage girl with an innocent classroom crush.

“god! might as well write all over a notebook that he rocks my world or something,” you scoffed, mock disgust lacing your words.

oh great, now you were fucking talking to yourself. christ, what had he done to you?

in an act of frustration, you quickly liked lando’s photo before throwing your phone onto your bed, partially hoping it would get lost amongst the pillows so you couldn’t find it again and fawn over more pictures of your supposed best friend.

a distraction was what you needed. and so you stood up and made your way into the kitchen, praying that maybe cooking a nice meal for yourself would sort you out. either that, or you could hit yourself over the head with a frying pan and hope that the concussion would remove any feelings that breached the label of ‘platonic’.

and for two whole hours, your plan had worked.

not only were you able to enjoy the delicious meal you’d made, but also got through a good few episodes of the new tv series you had started watching a week or so ago. the lando shaped hole in your mind had been replaced by witty dialogue and pointless character drama, and you were beginning to think that you had everything under control.

that was until you returned to your bedroom and reached for your phone once more, your lockscreen lighting up to display yet another text thread from lando.

lando: going out tomorrow at 10!!!

lando: be there or be square😈

lando: i need my best dance partner w me

fingers dancing across the keyboard, the text was sent before your brain could even think about the invitation.

y/n: i'll b there🥳

it was official: you were absolutely fucked.

. . .

it was 10:28pm and you were already questioning your decision to come out.

you would say that you had no idea why you’d even agreed to the invitation, but that would be a lie. you knew exactly what had convinced you to get dressed up and leave your house tonight, and that reason was currently grinning at you from his place at the bar, clothed in another stupid button down shirt and sunglasses, of all accessories.

how he had managed to make sunglasses indoors not only acceptable, but attractive to you was just another sign of the power that the man held over you. you’re sure that if you told your friends, they’d never let you live it down. and hell, you wouldn’t even blame them for it.

from the moment you had arrived, lando had commanded your attention. there wasn’t an inch of your body that wasn’t intently tuned in to every word he spoke, each movement of his limbs and the expressions on his face. he had you completely hooked, and you were letting it happen, swept along in the riptide of your stupid crush,

whether it was from the pulsating house music, the shot lando had shoved into your hand the moment you’d shown your face, or even just lando himself, you felt electric. sparks of lightning rippled beneath your skin, every last nerve in your body buzzing with anticipation for something that you couldn’t even put your finger on.

butterflies swarmed your stomach, and if someone were to tell you you were looking at lando with stars in your eyes, you would have no doubt that it was true. because as he grinned at you once more, the lively groups of club-goers began to fade away leaving only a vignette of his figure.

you were experiencing every romantic cliche in the fucking book, all thanks to him.

you were unsure as to whether it was a minute or a hour before he was standing in front of you again, the scent of his aftershave almost taunting you as it enveloped you. lando was expertly clasping two vodka cokes in one hand and two shots of tequila in the other, sporting a lopsided smile.

“lando!” you groaned, actions betraying your scolding tone as you reached out to pluck the shot from his hand before grabbing your drink, careful not to cause lando to spill anything.

the last thing you needed right now was to spill a drink on lando’s white shirt. the sight of the material slowly becoming see-through until it offered you a glimpse of his tan, toned skin was more than you would be able to handle.

lando held up the plastic shot glass with a cheeky expression, a silent toast to god knows what, before he tipped the liquid down his throat. his face quickly soured, and he wasted no time in seeing off a large portion of his drink in an attempt to rid himself of the tequila flavour.

“woah, woah, slow down there,” you laughed, gently pushing the cup away from lando’s mouth. “got the whole night ahead of you.”

watercolour eyes dropped to glance at your hand, lando’s stare lingering even after you had pulled your hand back towards your body hastily, as though merely being in the proximity of his body was enough to burn.

you would have thought it odd, if lando hadn’t immediately taken your hand into his larger one and stalked off towards the dance floor, gently tugging you along without a word. your mind told you that lando had simply felt the effects of his drink quicker than expected, and it took him a minute to realise that leading you to the dance floor was the mission he would give himself for the night.

flashbacks of the last time you were out clubbing with lando played in the back of your mind like an old movie, something you would put on in the background for comfort yet wouldn’t pay much attention to.

one dance turned into two, and then three, and before you knew it you had been dancing with lando for the better part of an hour, both of you expertly adapting your moves to match the vibe of whatever song the dj decided to play next.

one of the many perks of attending clubs with formula one drivers was that there was an ever-flowing supply of alcohol. it was something you’d discovered after the first few times you had gone out with lando and his friends: you would finish your drink and before you could blink, someone had shoved a new one into your hand, the cup still marbled with cold condensation.

your current drink had been supplied by max, or maybe even carlos, a far too strong liquor mixed with nowhere near enough soda for your liking. your nose scrunched up at the taste, and lando laughed before gently plucking the cup from you, his fingers brushing against your own for a fleeting moment.

a fire burned in the pit of your stomach, noticing that lando’s lips landed perfectly over the lipgloss mark you’d left moments ago. an indirect kiss.

much like your own moments prior, lando’s face twisted up into a grimace at the taste, and he shook his head furiously.

“that's fucking awful,” he claimed, leaning down a little to shout his complaints into your ear. “whoever bought you that has shit taste.”

“says the man who bought a round of tequila earlier in the night.”

lando chuckled, mumbling a ‘fuck off’ that held more adoration than malice, in your humble opinion. like he had rehearsed it, lando smoothly palmed your drink off onto max before delicately taking hold of one of your wrists, twirling you around just like he had done a few nights ago.

possibly driven by a subconscious want to set right the events of your last night out, you repeated your own actions and spun lando under your arm in response.

lando’s grin was almost blinding, and he pulled you towards him, your hands still clasped by his as he moved your limbs around like the world’s worst puppetmaster.

you were convinced that, had he had enough room around him, he would have spun you both around until you were dizzy, a move he’d pulled many times when you were dancing together in one of your kitchen’s to pass the time it took to cook your meal.

sadly, lando had to settle for flailing arms and uncoordinated shimmies, his priority making you smile rather than trying to look suave amongst the mass of bodies at your every turn.

a few other drivers started to join your circle, handing you both more drinks as they tried to engage in miscellaneous conversation and playfully poked fun at yours and lando’s lack of coordination or apparent shame.

unable to control who stood where, thanks to the power of free will, you had been separated from lando, instead flanked by oscar and george whilst he was wrapped up in a conversation with max fewtrell.

thanks to his position across from you, lando was able to catch your eye, his brow quirked slightly in a silent question meant only for you to decipher. you nodded, a clear response to his wordless communication.

as though it were planned, you and lando began to leave. this was how your last french exit should have been; no longer were you alone and flustered, stumbling into the back of your uber with the desire to bash your head off of a brick wall.

no, this time you had lando’s hand in yours, the pad of his thumb brushing soft circles against the back of your hand as he expertly manoeuvred you both through the crowd, informing you that a car would already be there to take you back to your flat with him in tow.

apologetic texts and goodbyes weren’t necessary this time around, if the loud, obnoxious whooping and whistling from pierre and charles were anything to go by. with their propensity for gossip, you were sure that every inhabitant in the club would be informed of your swift exit with lando within the hour.

the ride home was filled with melodic laughter as lando made it his mission to unload every observation he’d made in the past few hours onto you. he’d taken particular interest in the argument two girls were having when he was waiting at the bar, and left no detail out as he recounted the whole event like some sort of one man show, his only audience you.

the streetlights you passed caused a flickering glow to dance across lando’s features, and the momentary flashes of illumination caused lando to look otherworldly, all shadows and contours framed by deep curls.

lando was so caught up in his story that he was oblivious to your wonderstruck stare, completely unaware of the way you were drinking in every last inch of him, committing each miniscule detail to memory and storing it away for a rainy day.

good, you thought. he’d only take the piss anyways.

the alcohol rendered you both a little unsteady on your feet, and you snorted a laugh as lando stumbled through your front door, catching his shoe on the tiny step that led into your apartment.

whoever lived underneath you would likely be cursing your name right now, as neither you nor lando were too concerned about remaining quiet and light on your feet as you bumbled over to your bedroom. comfort was the only thing on your mind, though you made a mental note to push an apology letter underneath the poor soul’s door the next day.

making himself at home, lando threw himself down onto your bed, the plush mattress eliciting a soft groan from him. his once closed eyes snapped open as you tossed a pair of his joggers at him, a pair he’d left at yours a few months ago (and that you may or may not have ‘forgotten’ to return to him.)

“i’ll get changed in a sec,” lando promised, sinking back into your sheets. “you can too. just, come on, lie down for a bit.”

lando delivered two quick pats to your bed, perhaps hoping it would prompt you to join him faster than you already would have. secretly, you were glad that he thought you needed convincing to lie down with him for a moment.

you pretended to consider it, eyes flitting over to where your makeup remover sat, before you gave in, mumbling an ‘okay’ as you clumsily removed your shoes and clambered onto the bed next to him.

the gap between you both was barely there. if you moved your hand just slightly, your fingers would brush against lando’s side. how easy it would be, just to grant yourself a slice of heaven for once.

lando’s voice brought you out of your trance.

“when you left, last time…”

an unfinished question. lando was clearly attempting to seem nonchalant as he broached the topic that you had both been skirting around since it had happened, his eyes trained onto the thread of your duvet that he had busied his hands with.

in that moment, you didn’t think you could ever lie to him, no matter how humiliating the truth was.

“it got too much. y’hands on me and everything, i got too flustered. i just didn’t want to make a fool out of myself, i guess,” you admitted as an embarrassed smile played on your lips.

a giggle trickled from lando’s mouth, prompting you to roll onto your side and face him with a raised brow.

“what’s so funny?”

“nothin’. just the fact you fancied me so much that you had to run away from me,” lando responded, grinning mischievously.

your response came in the form of a pillow hitting lando square in the face.

“oi!”

the pillow came flying back, but missed your body by roughly a couple of inches, the alcohol clearly impairing his usually decent aim.

“missed me,” you taunted.

unexpectedly lando’s face lit up at your words, and he rolled closer to you, propping himself up onto an elbow so that his face was hovering over yours.

you swallowed thickly at the sudden movement, eyes darting across his face frantically as though his motives would be written into the curve of his smile.

“think there’s a saying about that,” lando mused, a hand trailing up your side so gently that you half believed you were imagining it. “missed me, missed me, now you’ve gotta kiss me, or something.”

and if that wasn’t a sign to press your lips to his, you weren’t sure what was.

you swallowed lando’s sound of surprise as your lips melded with his own, his mouth soft and warm as he more than returned your affections.

clearly not content with the level of control he possessed, lando briefly pulled back and swiped the pad of his thumb across your bottom lip before attaching his lips to your once more, gently sucking the flesh into his mouth and nipping at it with a smirk.

it was slow, and a little sloppy, a blend of tongue and teeth as you desperately tried to taste as much of each other as possible.

your grip on lando’s shirt was vice-like, as though you were scared he would disappear if let out of your hands for even a fleeting second.

“don’t worry, ‘m not going anywhere, pretty girl,” lando teased softly, punctuating his words with another kiss. “y’stuck with me.”

and suddenly, everything had become clear. it was always going to be you and lando, a love that would transcend a lifetime.

tags : @wintfleur @faerieroyal @starriesworlds @itscrzy @ssararuffoni @tbsloneely @onecojg @basicchelsea

#.° ༘🗝️⋆₊ becca’s drabbles #lando norris #ln4 #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fic #lando norris fluff #lando norris drabble #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n

672 notes · View notes

moosha-mushroom · 6 months ago

Text

Media I imagine different fiction podcasts in instead of the media of being a podcast.

TMA: A selection of volumes, relating to the fears, each with those removable covers. Those covers has a victim or two, and then underneath the cover is a really detailed cover. The paper is decoratively ripped, with a kind of scraggly font, and each has a foreword and ‘author’s note’ from Jonathan Sims.

Malevolent: A really gritty graphic novel with deadly detail in each panel, and very little color. Maybe a trinket on each important character has a color? Like Arthur’s eyes being yellow or Oscar’s collar having a blue sheen to it. The novels are long, dramatic, and intimate in a visceral way.

Welcome to Night Vale: Local 58 bullshit. A broadcast on television with low quality images and audio, tacky music, and a kind of 80’s aesthetic. Each episode the words WELCOME TO NIGHT VALE zoom onto the screen, the purple eye behind them. And each weather segment is an animated short by a different artist.

The Penumbra(Juno Steel): A webcomic. Hours spent scrolling downward a comic that has so much color and GEOMETRIC design. Juno and his curvy jaw, brown pie slice eyes, a cartoonishly high collar for his investigator jacket. Nureyev and his sharp square jaw, shimmering jewelry, and stick legs. Characters sticking out of the panels, fonts changing constantly, a little blue Juno that does his narration and *guitar theme plays* each time he appears.

Wolf 359: A classic comic. Issues month by month. Different special covers of the characters in extra dramatic poses or scenes. Even MORE panel breaking than Juno Steel. So MUCH onomatopoeia, even for small things like the clink of a panel or the disapproving hiss of Hilbert in the background. Geometric designs like Juno Steel, but less colorful. Like the superhero art style mixed with a more stylized look.

Midnight Burger: You pull up the Midnight Burger website. They have a hidden page that has a sort of script-comic thing going on, where the art is next to the writing. Small coded in notes from Leif sometimes pop up if you hold your arrow over the art. Links are attached to the parts where Effie and Zebulon play music, linking you to the music so you can listen to it while you read.

Desert Skies: An animated show. Indie, something you’d find on YouTube. The animation is bouncy and incorporates 3D animation alongside the 2D. Maybe the Sphere Movers have 3D models and the staff don’t? The credits are short because it was made by one guy. People are complaining about it on Twitter /j. People are making content farms about it. Everyone is pissed at Corson like they’re pissed at Jax.

The Amelia Project: A sort of simulation video game. You play as Arthur. You listen to their stories and draw pieces of the tale to invent their death. Every once in a while the game transitions to a point and click suspense game where you solve puzzles as Cole and Haines. Maybe there should even be an Operation-esque part of it where you work as Kozlowski.

Ghost Wax: A novel with a lot of pictures spliced in it. The stories are all in a single book, though the book is through Luca’s perspective— so he picks up on the ghost’s body language and Voncid’s reactions. The pictures are tarot cards with each victim as a card. Some are repeat cards— Lorem does not have a card at the end of the story. Nor does Our Home or Evening at the Ardent. The pictures are only white with black line art. No color whatsoever.

Kakos Industries: A company newsletter. Not a broadcast. A newspaper that arrives at your door and has big bold letters with the main story and pictures of the events that happen in the story as it goes. And the Sunday Comic page is full of employee shenanigans. Some innocent… some not.

I am losing my mind.

#the magnus archives #malevolent #welcome to night vale #the penumbra podcast #wolf 359 #midnight burger #desert skies #the amelia project #ghost wax #kakos industries

336 notes · View notes

bluesidez · 6 months ago

Text

GymRat!Miguel Part 10

content warning: “vague” descriptions of American colleges (iykyk), Winston [Earth-928/ Earth-TRN590] is here with a cool prosthetic arm (he originally has three! so I thought it would be cool to incorporate his robot arm back somehow), suggestive at parts so MINORS BEWARE (although you shouldn’t be looking at this series at all 😒), Miguel is the baby of his friend group, if the Spanish here is wrong please lmk!

word count: 3.8k, proofread so there should be no mistakes (something short and sweet!)

In case you missed it, you can find GR!Miguel’s full SFW + NSFW Alphabet here!

Prev | Next ✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮ Masterlist

GymRat!Miguel who has become one with his room. The bed is comfortable, the AC is just right, and more importantly, he can hide here in solitude.

His parents decided to host Gabriel’s graduation party, Gabriel’s college acceptance party, and a Fourth of July party all at once. It was nonstop trips to Sam’s, Party City, and the grocery store.

Gabriel got a full ride to a prestigious art school up north and his parents were using every second of the summer to make time for him.

They didn’t do nearly as much for him when he graduated and got a full ride. Although, Miguel guesses the shiny Range Rover from Tyler parked outside was enough to soothe the old wounds trying to reopen. Plus, Gabriel really deserved it. The chances of getting in were low, but Miguel helped every step of the way and now a bright future in the Big Apple was calling his name.

Still, if his dad called him to cut the grass or season another pack of meat, he might lose it.

GymRat!Miguel who was glad to see you were still enjoying your summer. He was probably the first to watch your stories, like your pictures, and even comment on your little notes.

He hoped it came off as endearing and dedicated because sometimes he worried it was annoying and clingy. He couldn’t help it, though. You’re always on his mind nowadays.

Today you had posted clips of you and your friends at a Boba shop. He could hear your laughter as you zoomed in one of your friends fighting for their life after sucking up a boba ball.

He smiled to himself as he played the video a few more times just to hear you.

GymRat!Miguel who decides to play a Gacha game on his phone to distract his wandering mind.

There was a character he wanted and he wasn’t stopping until he got her.

GymRat!Miguel who three domains, a farming session, several 10-pulls, and a lucky spot later did not get the character he wanted. He was heartbroken, shattered, and inconsolable.

He groaned and flipped over to the wall, choosing a few colorful words to complain.

GymRat!Miguel who’s half-asleep state is interrupted by Gabriel doing their special knock and poking his head inside.

“Whatdoyouwant,” Miguel pushed his face further in his pillow in hopes that it would make him disappear.

“Broski, your friends are here,” Gabriel sang as if he were a white suburban mom with too much time on her hands. “And they bombarded my TikTok stream so if you could please retrieve them, that would be nice.”

Miguel poked his head up, “Are you rating people’s talents again?”

“Even better. I’m being an NPC and making bank!”

“Why don’t you ever play the saxophone or something?”

“Because that’s not what the people want me to do, Miguel. The people want to see me go ‘Lick a lil sum!’ over and over again. They eat it up.”

Miguel squinted at the bright light coming from the hallway, “In a pickle suit?”

Gabriel looked down as much as he could with his constricted movement, only his appendages sticking out of the holes, and looked back to Miguel with gritted teeth.

“If you would have put your Nightwing costume back on, I could have been Robin and we could have made money together. But it seems that you hate me.”

GymRat!Miguel who watches Tempest push the door open further and shuffle around a seething Gabriel.

“I still don’t know why you’re dressed like a Spongebob character,” she laughs at his green tights.

“I’m not Kevin! Stop saying that. There’s no glasses. There’s no crown. There’s no pants!”

Lyla poked her head around him.

“‘Lewser.’”

Gabriel yelled and turned around, waddling back to his room, “I’m not letting the Geek Squad bully me!”

“You say that like you’re not one of us!” Winston shouted after him, shells and beads in his hair clanking together.

“One of us, one of us, ONE OF US!” the trio started to chant at Miguel’s door.

Gabriel just let out incoherent noses until he was able to shut his door.

GymRat!Miguel who feels like hissing when Tempest opens his blinds.

“Please, no more!” he whined into the pillow.

“What’s with you two today? So snappy,” she mumbles.

Winston stood by the door with his hands on his hips, “Have you been in here all day?”

Miguel sits up, “No.”

“You look like it,” Lyla snickers, kicking a bag out of the way.

“We haven’t seen you in like, forever, and you’re acting like you don’t really care,” Tempest pulls up her long, ruffled skirt to plop on the bed next to Miguel. “Are you sick?”

“No.”

“Did someone die?” Winston pulls out Miguel’s gaming chair to take a seat.

“No.”

“Wait!” Lyla’s voice makes everyone jump. “You failed your class for the first time and now your life is ruined.”

“What? No, never.”

GymRat!Miguel who perks up at the sound of the text tone he picked just for you.

“Look!”

“I just found this picture of us”

“We’re working hard 🫡”

“I’m putting in overtime”

“There’s no PTO”

“Only work”

“We get paid in kisses”

“Only kisses?”

“Everything else is a bonus check for being the perfect employee”

"Aka my girlfriend"

“And what does that bonus check look like?”

“Hmmm”

“She looks divine”

“She tastes really sweet too”

“Inside and out”

“What does your bonus check look like?”

“He’s big and hot 😌”

“He looks really nice when I love on him”

“He feels really good”

“Be very lucky you’re not near me rn”

“What?”

“I’m just describing my elite employee!”

“Aka my bf”

“I feel really good?”

“Yeah!”

“You’re my teddy bear”

“….and you also feel good in other places that I won’t be spelling out”

GymRat!Miguel who doesn’t feel Tempest leaning over his shoulder until her voice snaps him back to reality.

“No fucking way you got a girlfriend and didn’t tell anybody.”

She snatches the phone from his hands.

“Temp, give it back!”

“And you’re getting freaky with her while we’re right here!”

“No, I’m not-”

“It says right here ‘she tastes really sweet, inside and out.’ It’s in 4K!” Tempest shoved the phone in Winston’s face who gets the derpiest smile.

“My man!” he reaches his hand out to Miguel to dap him up, ending it in the handshake that only the two of them know. “You finally got a girl and you putting in that work. Let’s. Fucking. Go.”

“At least someone is on my side.”

“I never said I wasn’t on your side. I’m just stuck on the fact that you didn’t tell anyone. No texts, no socials. Just tumbleweed in that big ass head of yours,” Tempest pushed a duck nail against Miguel’s temple. “Like you could have died, and we would have never known.”

“I’m sorry, Temp, it’s been a hectic year.”

“And now it’s summer. We’ve got nothing but time,” she grabbed a pillow to place in her lap. “So get to talking Migster.”

“Yeah, while I can understand waiting to tell us about your girl, this is like, what, the second strike for you? First, no yacht and now this? Aggy,” Winston shook his head.

“All three of you had plans! I checked!”

“And it’s looking like you’ve been with her for almost a year. Wow,” Lyla said from a bean bag on the floor.

Miguel reaches to snatch it from her, teeth gritted in a way that mimicked his brother.

“I never knew you could get so romantic! Maybe scratch the arcade idea off, though. You get way too competitive.”

Tempest hit Miguel with her pillow, “An entire year?”

“Cold-blooded. I should smack you next,” Winston struck his metal arm back like he was getting ready to swing.

Miguel held his hands up, “I’ll finally let you teach me how to play Halo!”

Winston sat back, “2k too, and all is forgiven.”

“Halo and one round of 2k.”

“Deal,” Winston shook Miguel’s hand. “You’ll be hooked once you get the hang of it.”

“God, I hope not,” Lyla mumbled.

“Says the one who yells at children on Roblox,” Winston bit back.

“You don’t hear what those heathens say, I do!”

GymRat!Miguel who is forced to make a short PowerPoint about his past year while his friends help Miguel’s parents set up even more.

“I want a Final-worthy presentation by the time we get back! I even showed you where to get the cute templates,” Tempest fusses from the door before she closes it.

GymRat!Miguel who calls you while they’re gone.

“I mean, if it were me who just found out that my closest friend told me essentially nothing about their partner for that long, I’d be pretty upset too.”

Miguel groans as he leans back in his chair, “That is pretty fucked, isn’t it?”

“But, because I was with you most of the school year, I know that you were just preoccupied with other things. Figuring out college, checking off a lot of adult firsts, making new friends, dealing with family, totally scrambling your way through getting your first girlfriend.”

“Hey…”

You laugh at his annoyed expression and snap a picture, “I’m sure if you just explain things to them, they’ll understand.”

“I hope so. I already promised Winston a game of 2k.”

You scrunched your nose in the cute way that Miguel adored, “I’ll take a gamer, nerdy boyfriend any day. Might draw the line at 2k, I fear.”

“My face doesn’t cancel out the bad connotation?”

“Depends. Will you cancel on me in place of playing with your friends?”

Miguel’s eyes looked to you on his laptop with a frown on his face, “Never. I don’t think I’d do that for anything that can be rescheduled. Did he do that?”

Miguel didn’t want to say his name because it left a bad taste in his mouth.

“More than I’d like to admit, yes.”

“If I ever see him, I might punch him.”

“Miguel.”

“I’m so serious. There hasn’t been one good quality about him yet.”

Only the fact that he was a good stepping stone to get to Miguel, not that he would ever say that out loud.

“He was…nice when I met him.”

“Just nice?”

“He had a cute face!”

Miguel’s frown deepened, “I don’t want to talk about him anymore, actually.”

GymRat!Miguel who finished his PowerPoint with the help of you.

Honestly, you just had to sit pretty in the corner of his monitor.

GymRat!Miguel who was ready to present once his friends got back, each of them sporting a Fanta in their hands.

“Nobody brought me one?”

Tempest made a noise of satisfaction when she took a sip, “A cold one is waiting for you when you finish, buddy.”

Miguel rolled his eyes and set up the PowerPoint.

GymRat!Miguel whose presentation is dragged even further because everyone keeps asking questions.

Section 1: New Experiences

“Only you would attract sorority girls despite the clear baby boy energy radiating off of you,” Tempest said.

“I mean, look at him,” Lyla gestured to Miguel’s body. “We still see our big baby, but that body? That’s what people notice first. We should have prepared him more.”

Miguel’s face fumed as he went to the next slide.

“And only you would make friends with the cafeteria lady. She saw the baby aura,” Tempest quipped.

“L-let’s just move on,” Miguel mumbled.

“You’re on the robotics team!! There’s our Miggy,” Lyla rounds her words like she was talking to a child.

“Guys, Miguel is going to be a tomato if you don’t stop,” Winston chides.

Section 2: Family

“I’ve been waiting on somebody to get that gremlin Kron and you finally got him,” Lyla shook her head with a chuckle.

“I’m sorry about your mom, though. She didn’t really like us too much either when we first started to hang out,” Tempest pulled her knees up to her chin.

“Mind you, I had a mean set of braces, suspenders, and high water pants when we first met,” Winston said.

“Oh my god. Remember when she thought Tempest was tricking Mig into doing her homework?”

“When all I was doing was comparing answers because Miguel was the only one who could keep up with me in that class,” Tempest snickered. “Glad me and Mrs. O’Hara moved past that because I was definitely looking out for you more than she was.”

“Remember when she thought you two were dating?” Winston asked.

Miguel groaned, “That was so fucking embarrassing.”

“You think now I read as a raging lesbian or what?”

Section 3: My Gorgeous Girlfriend Whom Which I Love

“The same guy who lectured me for 10 minutes over not jumping out of a car to hold the door for my girlfriend left his girl at a party?” Winston snickered.

Lyla played with the end of a braid in her hair, “Chivalry is dead.”

“Get all your jokes out now, because we’re going strong,” Miguel waved everyone off as he flipped to the next slide.

“Is that her?” Lyla sat up as much as she could in her sinking seat.

“Yeah,” Miguel’s smile grew at the picture of you from a coffee date on the screen.

“Look at him,” Winston pointed a finger. “He can’t even speak. He’s gone.”

“She’s hot! Nice job Miguel,” Tempest clapped with a giddy smile on her face. “You’re like, lovestruck over there.”

Miguel continued to flip through the several slides he had of you, face sinking further into his palm as he stared at you like he’s never seen you before.

“Does Xina know you have a girlfriend?”

“Woof,” Tempest and Winston said in a low voice simultaneously.

Miguel tilted his head with a confused expression, “What’s with the ‘woof’? Why are you all looking like that? And where is Xina, anyway?”

“She said her parents wanted her to go visit family, so she’s far, far away right now.”

“Did you know she’s transferring to your school?” Lyla asks.

“Why? I thought she was going to an Ivy League somewhere. It was all she talked about.”

Tempest’s eyebrows raised, “Can’t stay at an Ivy League if you fuck up your scholarship.”

"She told me that she didn't like it there," Winston looked confused.

Lyla and Tempest just stared at each other in disbelief.

“If you worked your ass off from starting a non-profit to being the school valedictorian, just to get into one school, would you just up and leave after one school year without finding better options?” Lyla deadpanned.

“Hey, we don’t know what happened. Maybe she really didn’t like it there, guys,” Miguel said.

Lyla and Tempest both gave Miguel twin looks as if telling him to get serious.

“Well, if she’s going to your school, I’m sure you’ll see her at some point. Maybe she’ll tell you,” Winston suggested.

“Yeah, Miguel. She’ll tell you anything if you ask,” Lyla folded her arms with a smile.

“What does that mean?”

“It just means,” Tempest waved her hands around. “She’s enamored by you.”

“Guys. Stop.”

“She’s not lying. Every time we hang out together, she’s always clinging to you,” Winston said.

“It’s been years and she’s never told me anything,” Miguel reached to exit the PowerPoint. What was about to be a 10 minute yap session about you was now turning into something else. “I doubt that if she felt that way, she still feels that way now.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Lyla shrugged.

Tempest nodded her head, “Good on you for being so optimistic.”

Miguel squinted his eyes, “You two are freaking me out.”

GymRat!Miguel who sat with his friend’s words once they dropped him off back home after an impromptu day of fun.

He really needed to get out of the house to reset, but he couldn’t help but to worry about Xina.

He was there when she worked herself to the bone just to even be considered for the top schools. When she got in, she was over the moon.

What could have possibly made her stop now?

GymRat!Miguel who wakes up to sound of his dad laughing and yelling outside of his window.

He dragged himself to the window to see him running around with his brothers with a nerf gun.

It would be a pretty funny sight if it wasn’t 7 in the morning.

GymRat!Miguel who goes through his morning routine of booting Gabriel up, taking his morning run, and eating a hefty breakfast.

He sends you a picture of himself right after he finished the run, sweat dripping down his neck and his skin glowing from the hot sun.

Knowing you were probably still asleep, he doesn’t expect a response until later. So when you call him immediately, he’s filled with surprise.

“Sending thirst traps at ass o’clock is crazy,” you say as soon as the call connects.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“So you just happened to take the perfect picture in the sun with your skin all wet?”

“Are you saying that I’m photogenic?”

You roll your eyes and Miguel laughs, happy to see you.

“Where are you going?” Miguel asks, noticing the fluffy headband you’re wearing that’s holding your hair back.

“We’re going to my aunts house and she lives about two hours away so I got up early to get ready.”

“Bebe, qué hermosa eres.” (Baby, how beautiful you are.)

You pause what you’re doing to turn and stuff your head into a plushie to scream.

“You can’t tell me that,” you say when look back to the camera, fanning your face. “I won’t stay focused.”

“But it’s true. You’re stunning.”

You groan and slide down your chair, “Miguel, please. I need to focus.”

“Ok, ok. You still look amazing.”

“Thank you,” you say, patting the back of your hands against your heated cheeks.

“I wanna kiss you.”

“I’m hanging up.”

Miguel laughs as you bring the phone to your face.

“I wanna kiss you, too,” you say before ending the call.

GymRat!Miguel who blows your phone up with teases after that.

It all shuts up once he sees your outfit of the day.

“You can’t do this to me”

“Baby????”

“This is agony”

GymRat!Miguel who is the loudest when Gabriel makes his grand entrance to the party, graduation cap snug on top of his curls. His family is popping mini confetti and string cannons while his little cousins blow bubbles.

GymRat!Miguel who catches Gabriel at any chance he was idle, snapping picture after picture like a proud parent.

GymRat!Miguel who stacks his plate high full of food to the shock of no one.

GymRat!Miguel who almost gets knocked down by Gabriel when he opens his gift of specialized sheet music. After years of hearing the songs Gabriel would blast through the house, he compiled together a music book with covers done by different artists.

"I'm going to play every single one of these for you," Gabriel says with a geeked-out smile.

"Oh boy."

GymRat!Miguel who watches Gabriel scream as their neighbor's dog runs towards the fireworks that he set on the ground.

Miguel always thought there was nothing going on behind those little eyes.

GymRat!Miguel who feels Gabriel slide next to him in the corner of their backyard. A place where the two of them used to do everything from hide-and-seek to sharing secrets to pretending to be superheroes.

Gabriel leans his on Miguel’s shoulder, eyes watching the small fireworks their cousins bought.

“Mig?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you ever get scared when you left home?”

Miguel was quiet for a second, “At first, I was. I was leaving what I knew, but once I got used to it, it was like a weight off my chest.”

The two sat for a minute, listening to their family sing and laugh.

“I’m really fucking nervous.”

“About leaving?”

“About everything,” Gabriel took a shaky breath. “I’ll be so far away. I won’t know anyone. And you…”

Miguel’s sleeve was wet.

“You won’t be there if I need you.”

Miguel turned and pull Gabriel into a hug, arms tight as he felt Gabriel cry into his shoulder.

“No tengas miedo, Gabri,” Miguel’s voice cracked as he rubbed his brother’s back. “I’ll be a call away, ok? Right there if you need me. I promise.” (Don’t be scared, Gabri.)

"Te voy a extrañar." (I'm going to miss you.)

"Yo también te voy a extrañar." (I'm going to miss you, too.)

After a while of the two calming down and making promises to continue their weekly calls, Gabriel leans up and covers his eyes with his arm.

“I told myself I’d save my tears for the move-in day, but it’s just now hitting me how much I’m going to miss seeing your stupid face.”

Miguel laughed and thumped him across the head, “And I’m going to miss hearing your stupid laugh across the hall. But what did you do when I left?”

Gabriel turned to avoid Miguel’s face, “Ma thought I was dying or something. She kept bringing random shit that I liked to my room for three weeks because ‘Te pareces a Ígor, mijo!’” (You look like Eeyore, mijo!)

Miguel bit his cheek as he ruffled Gabriel’s hair. He still saw the little baby who followed his every move. The baby that laughed hard when he read books with a funny voice. The baby that stood up for him front of their mom when he couldn’t even stand up for himself on the playground.

The kid who stayed up with him to beat some game because their dad wouldn't buy them memory cards for the PlayStation. The kid who tried food once he saw it on Miguel’s plate. The kid who refused to go to summer camps without him.

Here he was, sitting in front of Miguel, getting ready to start a new chapter.

“Oh god, Miguel don’t start crying again. It’s gonna ruin the tour,” Gabriel groaned and dug his head into his arms.

“I’m not, I’m not, I’m sorry,” Miguel hurriedly wiped his cheeks, hot tears filled with his thoughts escaping. “You’re going to kill it in New York. By the time I get there, you’ll be so used to it that it’ll be like breathing air.”

“I hope so,” he sniffles and looks back up. “I need to impress Dana.”

“And there he is,” Miguel shook his head. “I’m sure she’ll be happy to visit.”

“Yeah. I already have some places planned for dates.”

“Smooth. That’s the Miguel in you.”

“Shaddup.”

GymRat!Miguel who calls you closer to midnight.

"How was the party?"

"It was pretty good," Miguel moved to settle further into his bed. "Gabriel was happy."

Hearing the tone in his voice, you pouted, "Are you ok, though?"

"Yeah, I'm just. I'm feeling a lot."

He felt he might cry again, thinking about his little brother in a place all by himself, thinking of his parents being empty nesters, thinking of his feelings from yesterday.

"You want to talk about it?"

Miguel shook his head, "Tomorrow."

"Whenever you're ready, I'll be there."

"Thank you," Miguel smiled. "That means a lot."

GymRat!Miguel who feels better listening to you chatter until you fall asleep. His head isn't filled with so much noise and your voice is like a calm breeze.

He can't wait to see you again.

divider by: @thecutestgrotto 🩵

a/n: I was thinking of this video when I was writing Lyla talking about Kron + that smoking duck gif. I also doubt there are many nerds alive that play 2k, I just wanted Winston to play it lol. Anywho, I was going for a boho-chic vibe when I imagined Tempest (with red locs), a maximalist + art deco vibe with Lyla, and an elevated streetwear style with Winston. Winston also upgraded his prosthetic arm to mimic Link's from Tears of the Kingdom. As for Xina...we'll see! 😗

As always, like, comment, and reblog. Let me know how you feel! 🩵

If you want to be on the taglist, sign up here! Make sure to have your age in the bio or somewhere on your blog!

taglist: @ghost-lantern @miguelhugger2099 @slushycoookie @emelie-s-h @lake-lili

@obsessed-with-miguels-ass @scaleniusrm @superiorspiderass @lexluvswriting

@flordelalunas @froggygal @vmpz8sauceee @famouscattale @nixinluv02

@jada-of-arcadia @spideykid22 @what-the-jams @julia4today @tojishugetiddies

@samjinxx @sleeklyalisha @the-pan-liquid @prongs-lover @kikaaauu

@urlocallocachica @wanderlustingcastaway @peachey-pie @ch3rry-bl1ss @girl-of-multi-fandoms

@love-kha1 @manlikemilesmyguy @sillysillygoofygoose @monticellohoe @kodzuminx

@lauraolar14 @bruhhvv @m4dyy @farrowroyale @cl3stevu

@ohara-whore @muneca-lemon-steppa @alexa4040 @amelialysm @snails-doodles22

@questionable-behaviour @babygotl01292003 @calig0sto @tatatida @haveclayeveryday

@corpsenightmarebride @earth2fae @maiyart @feegrh32 @darkstarlight82

@ladysimp @sonicbutbutter @relatednative @slowlyshycomputer @nuetralcolorsenthusiast

@maxlinpetersen @beyondstarlight @Madeofstar-dust @leoeloo @just-simpins-blog

@poisamm @thequeenreaders @tinybirdhidedout @aly29a2001 @mimi-sanisanidiot

@snakelore @pigeonmama @darkstalight82 @prettygirleli @koikohib

@jayskookies @xo-zeze @planetxella @thedevax @stressed-cherry

336 notes · View notes

pali-and-proud · 9 days ago

Note

analysis on buddy i beg 🙏🙏 (if its alr with you ofc)

Babe I cannot stress enough how much I love talking about our purple goth histironic antisocial petty freak of a fan favorite character. Absolutely. Strap in 'cause this is going to be long.

(edit: lmao guys this is long. Like I know some people told me they didn't mind the lengths of my other posts--thank you so much for that, by the way, y'all are so sweet--but i am most definitely pushing it with this one. Get urself something sweet to drink, youll be here a while.)

Let's start with early Buddy!

Episode 3 is the closest we get to understanding early Buddy's motives, and it isn't great--he outright mutters to himself that he needs to get "the obnoxious brat" out of the stories + get the key back. This cements two things: one, that Buddy is the antagonist, and two, that Buddy dislikes Chase.

(Note: I know that Buddy isn't really the antagonist, and that he...lmao...does not dislike Chase. But! Early Buddy is not Crushing-Badly Buddy, so bear with me.)

He ALSO reveals, in the same episode, that he needs to get the key before the old man finds out something's missing. This implies a higher power (which we know now to be Ex Libris), and the episode ends by zooming in on a book with a page ripped out. The episode before had that page, so we know the page detailed how to use the keys and what they were, but keeps the mystery of how the ripped page made it to Chase.

The point: Buddy acts as an antagonist to Chase, yes, but he also has a motive and a deadline. Get Chase out and get the key back before (assumingly) Ex Libris finds out.

With this in mind, Buddy's...tactics...start making a little more sense. He drops pots of dirt on Chase, frames Chase for murder and arson (possiblyyy to be petty), splashes water on Chase, drops a bucket on his head, fills Chase's shoes with worms and bugs (sidenote: Buddy loves insects. Chase hates insects. Someone please write that down PLEASE), sets traps to snag the kid, etc etc. We know he's doing this to get Chase out, but we can infer that there's a consequence if he doesn't.

He also drops more information about his perspective in his arguement with Chase in ep4, where he tells Chase he doesn't deserve the keys and implies that Buddy does deserve them (and, also, that other people use the keys). He despises cheating (shout out to later Buddy, who "hates liars"), and he is completely convinced that Chase will give up sooner or later.

But then the original Cinderella story happens. And it's a turning point, because it's the first time Buddy actively helps Chase. Yes, it's with the end goal of getting Chase to leave (he bets on the key), but it's the closest we get to seeing Buddy in a non-antagonistic role.

Important to note here is that Buddy makes sure to tell Chase: when you lose, don't think you can lie your way out of it. We've never seen Chase lie to Buddy (lol not for, like, another 50 chapters), but we DO see Buddy maintain this theme of assuming Chase will lie/cheat. And it's kinda fascinating, because lying/cheating/manipulating is something pretty villainous, and since Buddy keeps expecting that from early Chase, you can argue that Buddy's typecasted Chase as his own antagonist.

Even so, we see tiny peeks of later! Buddy. He sees Chase desperate for the cakes/snacks, and even though he's insulting about it, he does tell him that he can eat it. He could, hypothetically, let Chase continue to avoid the food here (since it would help coax him out of the stories), but Buddy doesn't.

In fact, this whole story, Buddy never lies. He tells Chase exactly what is about to happen. And when Chase is happily escaping, he notes Buddy's shaded expression (somewhere between pensive and tired, to be honest), and wonders why Buddy tried to help him.

This could be, honestly, the moment Chase realized there was more to Buddy than surface-level.

And then we get to ep13, where Buddy and Chase are in the Princess-Tutor-Dancing scene. There are so many little things in this scene: Buddy complaining that everything in the stories is a waste of time to Chase, acknowledges that he deviated from the other story, and admits that he didn't win the bet. We see a moment of guilt or dissatisfaction from Buddy when Chase says Silver deserves better than to be stuck with someone like him, and he knows the keys only help if they were on speaking terms with whoever they worked with.

Chase asks how he knows Buddy's going to keep his word, and Buddy responds by stressing that he'd be more surprised by Chase being honest. Which kinda brings me to my bigger point: So far, we haven't seen Buddy lie...at all.

Also, Chase slaps Buddy. This is mostly just really funny to me and also relevant for later.

AND NOW LATER BUDDY. I warned you that this would be long.

We get to the Toffee Arc, and we start on one of my favorite details about Buddy: the guy loves touch. He sees Chase with someone new, and immediately he's pressing a hand and his whole face against Chase's hair. He also doesn't love that Chase doesn't reciprocate the touch, but in Chase's defense, this is the first time Buddy's actively touched Chase (outside of them dancing and/or Chase slapping him).

He also loves touch that isn't necessarily from Chase. He loves getting pets from the Duke, and he doesn't even like the Duke. I know some people hypothetize this is from touch starvation, which is absolutely possible, but it is pretty interesting that Buddy has absolutely no shame or embarrassment whatsoever in recieving tactile affection. Most notably because he never, ever actually asks for it.

Also, since a lot of people have pointed out the symbolism of the yellow flowers and the purple vines: this is the first overlap we have of them! It's specifically when Buddy's warning Deacon against being on his bad side: it has faded yellow flowers in the background (all of which are shaded and appear almost tainted), bright yellow bulbs that are untainted, and purple vines.

Personally? I think this is when Buddy starts developing his crush.

Buddy following this scene/ep with him bugging Chase and Deacon about their relationship with one another really truly does not help his case. Neither does Deacon mentioning that he's heard about Buddy and Buddy immediately asking for details. Get some self-control, man.

(Deacon tells him that Chase didn't really say anything good about him and Buddy outright says he isn't surprised. Buddy's not oblivious to his actions, but he's still justifying it through the motive we established ages ago: he needs to get Chase [and now, Deacon] out of the stories. Which he reminds us by immediately trying to trick Deacon out.)

Also, Buddy keeps saying "We'll" get the keys back, implying himself alongside Ex Libris (unless Buddy's already separated from them, which is a theory some people have). I just think it's important to note, particularly for later, when we see that Buddy doesn't have a good relationship with them.

Chase, though, does ask Buddy for any words of advice. Buddy refrains from offering any, but it does reinforce the fact that Buddy had been more forthcoming with book assistance in the recent episodes than before. It's almost like the more he recognizes Chase isn't really an antagonst, the more he's willing to help.

Also, I don't know if this counts as manipulation? But Buddy tells Deacon that Chase was confident in how to continue the story, despite knowing Chase was not (BUT Chase was trying to pretend that he was--so kind of a loophole, I guess?). Interesting that the first maybe-manipulation by Buddy was towards Deacon.

We also learn a new thing about Buddy! He loves to talk. He talks with the Duke, insulting him left and right, despite being a cat. Earlier, when he was in the Cinderella story, he was chatting with one of the background characters. We see him later listening and idly talking with one of the princes; the guy likes to yap, essentially.

(It's also kinda funny because Buddy likes to flirt? But he doesn't do it that often, and he almost always seems to prefer flustering by touch then verbally. He sits on a prince's lap within seconds of love-dosing him. He's shameless.)

We have Chase calling out Buddy for being jealous that Chase brought someone along, and Chase wondering if Buddy is that desperate for attention. The short answer is yes. The long answer is this entire post.

I do love that this is the first time we see Buddy flustered, and he immediately resorts to threats of violence. This becomes a pattern. I love him so much.

(Buddy revealing that he knows Chase's name while openly flirting with him and then shoves Chase away when Chase realizes that Buddy does know his name. He's got two modes, Cool/Collected and violently awkward /j)

Chase kicks the thing out of Buddy's hand. Which is only relevant 'cause that makes the actual physical assault 2-0 Chase. But it also leads to Buddy being thrown in the water, which we know he hates, and Buddy ends the arc by thinking about how Chase could prove useful.

Then we have Beach Boys. This is the iconic arc, and easily one of my favorites. Shocker, I know. I like the arc where they have fun and then argue and then apologize and then bicker again.

Buddy reminds us that he has a much better understanding of the keys than Chase or Deacon, and that he's perfectly good at utilizing loopholes. Remember how earlier, I said Buddy hates cheating? He's fine with cheating the system, so long as he isn't cheating for the reward.

Chase also notices that it seems like Buddy's good at everything (with the exception of sparking a fire). Buddy can hunt fish, but can't cook them. We know, of course, that Buddy can be diplomatic (we've seen that), and we know Buddy can dance. And frame people for various crimes. And, also, poision people. A man of many talents.

We also learn Buddy loves chocolate. He sees chocolate bars, and he so clearly desperately wants one, but it's really not until Chase offers any that Buddy takes. We never, ever see Buddy ASK for anything.

Chase comments that Buddy acts like Ex Libris locks him up and never feeds him, and Buddy just shudders. Chase repeats again, asking if Ex Libris feeds him, and Buddy doesn't answer.

Interestingly, we know that Buddy has claustraphobia. We know Buddy has not lied yet to Chase. And we know Buddy didn't respond to Chase.

So technically, even when Chase learns that Buddy'd been pretending to sleep to try to coax out information from Chase, Buddy was right: he told Chase his intentions from the beginning. Buddy has never, ever, ever actually lied to Chase.

Yes, he didn't contradict anything Chase said. But we also know, from Buddy's reactions, that he genuinely didn't expect Chase to be hurt, because he didn't think Chase was being genuine.

He typecasted Chase as his antagonist, and this arc marks the start of Buddy realizing he might have been wrong. That maybe Chase really was this nice.

Chase tells Buddy he deserves whatever he gets, and Buddy doesn't disagree. It's reoccuring: Chase tells Buddy he deserves to suffer, or he deserves what happens, or the keys deserve better than him, and Buddy doesn't argue.

And then Buddy decides: you know what. Violence.

Throughout this active arguement, Buddy reveals so much about his own mindset. Chase offering to drive over to wherever Buddy is becomes Chase trying to weasel a location out of him. Chase trying to help was Chase trying to manipulate. "You're just as self-serving. You're not better than me!" is CAKED with projection.

Buddy mocks Chase's desire to be friends, and he mocks what he sees as a savior complex, because to Buddy, Chase's selfless persona is all hypocritical: he knows Chase wants to make a wish.

And it's this projection, coupled with the anger of what he sees as Chase's useless manipulation, that makes him finally react when Chase (once again) tells him he deserves whatever happens. Buddy hates that idea--hates that he might actually deserve whatever Ex-Libris is doing to him--and he's so furious that he's genuinely just lashing out. And he hurts Chase.

This is where I'm going to glance back at Chase slapping Buddy and Chase kicking at Buddy's hand and cough awkwardly. This isn't the first time one of them has resorted to violence (although it IS the first time Buddy has, excluding the black eye Chase got in the first episode, but that was from a fight Chase initiated). It is the first time it's resulted in actual blood, though.

It's just something to note that Buddy could try to defend himself--could point at Chase's attacks from before--and instead immediately drops his weapon and looks so genuinely upset for the first time.

And now we regress back to Chase telling Buddy he's scum, he's a monster, and Buddy doesn't argue.

But he apologizes. And we get his thoughts for the first time--recognizing he needs to apologize now, and wishing he was better at it. He apologizes the way he usually initiates conversation with Chase: he starts by rambling about the story. The cut isn't real, even if it hurts, and Chase will be okay, and he's sorry, and he didn't think Chase actually wanted to help, and he lost his temper, and he never meant to cause harm.

He's not willing to call a real truce yet, because he knows it's going to break eventually. But he does help Chase with his coconut, and gets genuinely happy/amused when Chase gets excited.

Buddy likes Chase, guys. I'm not just talking about a crush or attraction or anything. He likes seeing Chase happy. He doesn't like seeing Chase sad. At some level, by this point, he does see Chase as a friend. Which is nice and sweet, but then you look back at Chase insulting and snapping at Buddy and Buddy not arguing, and it gets a little bittersweet.

And then Buddy "cleans Chase's cheek." I know what you are.

Sick Day, we see Chase sick, and we see Buddy fret over him. He fusses over Chase to the point where he fully forgets plot-relevant details, like poison. I love headcanons that view Buddy as forgetful, especially if one were to take Buddy and apply PTSD symptoms to him (#PsychMajor) but I'm not willing to give the guy a psychological analyzation until AFTER we get details on his background. But oh guys, I will be so annoying when I can finally put nature vs nurture into action.

Again, we see Buddy genuinely concerned over Chase. Concerned to the point of forgoing everything he's supposed to do in the story to follow Chase, even though he maintains his claim that he's merely walking in the same direction as Chase. (once again, idk if that counts as lying? But it's definitely not manipulative).

The reason this is important is because Buddy's concerned for Chase, but when Chase asks him to help by telling Deacon to leave, Buddy asks what he gets out of it. And it isn't even with a specific angle: he genuinely wants to know what benefit he gets to convincing Deacon to leave.

Remember Buddy's early motive? To get Chase and Deacon out and grab their keys before "the old man" notices? Yeah, that's on hold, evidently.

Chase tells him that he'd get the satisfaction of helping someone, and Buddy squints and fully rejects the plausibility of that. Which is so interesting, because he has helped Chase before (via giving him information, or opening a coconut, or even this arc, by making sure the kid doesn't faint on the stairs) without really getting anything out. Again, I know what you are, Buddy. absolutely useless in the presence of a cute boy

And despite all of that, Buddy doesn't hesitate to run after Chase. Doesn't hesitate to save Deacon when Chase faints. He even goes so far as to grab Chase's stuff, even though he completely forgot and forgoes the literal poision that he's supposed to be in charge of.

It isn't that Buddy doesn't know how to be good. It's that Buddy does good, but both doesn't recognize that he's doing something good AND doesn't acknowledge that he's doing something good for Chase. He isn't oblivious to the bad he's done--just oblivious to the good.

Think of it in terms of the speech Buddy gave Deacon. If there are times you need to be a hero, and times you need to be a helper, then it goes to reason that there are times you need to be villainous. But Buddy doesn't need to be villainous anymore, right? He's aware that Chase isn't actually an antagonist, that Chase isn't actually a problem. He's aware that his treatment of Chase was entirely one-sided. And that's only reinforced by Chase giving him an entire bag's worth of vitamins and food.

Like, to Buddy's credit, how do you even respond to that. A whole bag's worth of food. Non-perishables. Chocolate. And we know Chase doesn't even have the money to really afford that, but Buddy doesn't, and Buddy's already rendered speechless.

We know that in the All That Glitters arc, Buddy didn't thank Chase. And we know that's because Buddy assumed Chase had to want something in exchange. Because what kind of a person would be so genuinely selfless as to give someone an entire bag's worth of food.

We know, exactly one arc later, that Buddy did thank Chase. He makes sure to tell Chase he's capable of feeling grateful. Remember all the stuff Chase told him, when they were arguing? About being a monster, and being scum? It's almost like Buddy's trying to humanize himself to Chase, or something. Because WE know Chase doesn't actually see Buddy as a monster, but Buddy doesn't.

Buddy reminds Chase that he doesn't have to care, and he doesn't have to worry, right before returning Prunella's book and apologizing for looking inside. Again, and I cannot stress this enough, Buddy could have just...lied...and said he didn't look inside, or just not mentioned it at all, but he doesn't. Buddy...doesn't really lie.

He apologizes AGAIN for accusing Chase of being underhanded. We know Buddy has a lot of guilt, and we know Buddy's never been unaware of his actions, but it is really interesting to see that Buddy actually has a pretty tight moral code. Chase just...wasn't on the right side of it for a while.

And now we're at the Requium arc. And Buddy had to deal with being woefully ignored by Chase, and then went against the story to get Chase to not marry the vampire, and then got locked in a coffin. And honestly, nowhere near enough people have pointed out how quickly Buddy fell to apologizing and begging forgiveness--he hadn't done anything, but he didn't care. Buddy doesn't lie, remember? Not nearly as often as he acts like he does. But he was desperate, and he begged his apologies for things he knew he/his character hadn't done.

And when Chase let him out, he hugged him.

Remember what I said, in the Toffee arc? Buddy loves tactile affection, and Buddy never asks for it. He was desperate to get out, and he got out, and he needed a hug, and he got one.

And when Buddy realized the hug he needed hurt Chase? That the vines he covered himself in, the barbs he prided himself in, were causing actual harm? Immediate guilt, with him mentioning how often he hurts Chase. And this time, Chase is quick to deny it--he tells him not to worry, that it's completely fine.

But Buddy hurt Chase, so Buddy fixes it: he gets rid of the vines. Get's rid of the thorns. He's literally shedding a shield, a protection. Because the vines he coated himself in didn't protect him from the real problem (Drac), but just hurt the only person trying to help him.

Someone said it before, but Buddy LIKES his outfits. He likes them being intricate and detailed. But that didn't matter, because it hurt Chase, so Buddy got rid of it.

And after he sheds the outer protection, he's a bit more expressive. It's subtle, but he doesn't shy from openly telling Deacon he trusts Chase. He also locks Deacon outside the door to be potentially mauled by wolves, but nobody's perfect. He doesn't hesitate to remind Deacon of the baby teeth comment, either: this is his petty retribution for that joke, and he stands by it. Deacon asks why Buddy's wrestling with the bottom half of a vampire, and Buddy isn't sure.

And finally. Buddy realizing Chase lied to him. Buddy being so deeply, genuinely, painfully taken aback. Buddy, after apologizing again and again and again, after feeling guilty for suspecting Chase and for hurting Chase and for misreading Chase, after trying to figure out how to humanize himself without lying about who he is and what he plans to do (remember? get Chase out? get the keys?), discovers that Chase lied to him after all.

So in the end, Buddy just wants to be good. He doesn't really lie, and his manipulations are really just exploiting loopholes, and he doesn't actively want to hurt anyone. He's truly not malicious, but he's aware that's the role he's been given (figuratively and literally). And there are times you need to be the hero, or the helper, or the villain. And he's trying to figure out what role he can be, since he's really only had to play the villain. Remember: if Buddy wasn't the villain, Chase wouldn't have tried to do the whole Cinderella book. He wouldn't have met Silver, or Bronze, or Goldie. He wouldn't have known anything.

I hope this makes sense :) And I am mildly sorry for this being so long and much more impressed with anyone that stuck on this long.

#cinderella boy #chase hollow #buddy #i love literary analysis guys i really do #and im making a thing for my friends about cb #so like sorry #id literally JUST reread the series #and all this information was like...super accessible to me #anyway thank you for asking!#i hope this does the Q justice lol

99 notes · View notes

bitchiswild · 1 year ago

Text

On The Court

GP Huh Yunjin x F! Reader

Warnings: Smut, Exhibitionism, Creampie, and others things probs 🤷‍♀️

Word Count: 1.5k

A/n: Sorry if it’s bad 💃🏼 but enjoYyY

╔═════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ═════╗

"Got the hang of it now?" Yunjin inquired, leaning against the fence surrounding her private tennis court. She had just finished an extensive session. As the girlfriend of a well-respected champion, she was teaching you what you needed to know when it comes to tennis.

"Yeah, I think I've got it. Let's try a game, shall we?" I replied, eager to challenge my skills and elevate them to the next level. I got into position, ready for the ball to come right at me.

"Love!" Yunjin's voice echoed across the court, a playful twinkle in her eye as she tossed the tennis ball into the air. With graceful precision, she brought her racket down, sending the ball gliding over the net, its trajectory aimed squarely at my side of the court.

As the ball landed within my court, I ensured it bounced once before my swing. "Keep it inside the lines," I coached myself, recalling every rule and fundamentals Yunjin had taught me. Mindful to avoid the net, I prepared to strike. With precise timing and just the right force, I sent the ball soaring over the net, a blend of power and control behind my shot. It zoomed past Yunjin after a single bounce on her side, earning me 15 points.

Excitement bubbled up within me,Yes!" I yelled out in sheer glee. "Ha! In your fucking face!" My triumphant outburst echoed across the court, a mix of elation and competitive spirit driving my words.

"Pretty good, babe," Yunjin said, initially shocked, but the surprise quickly faded, replaced by a smirk.

"Game on."

As the game went back and forth, the scores kept climbing until we reached this critical moment where every point mattered. The tension thickened around Yunjin and I as the final round loomed, signaled by the ball tossed into the air. I focused hard, determined to win. I wanted to prove a point—to show Yunjin that Y/n L/n did indeed grasp tennis, despite just learning it.

I was convinced I could pull off a win. Crushing Yunjin's ego seemed like a golden opportunity, and I was totally up for grabbing it.

Surveying her position at the far-right corner of the court, I seized the chance to smash the ball towards her opposite side. The ball raced across the court at a blistering pace, catching Yunjin off guard. She dashed toward the ball on the other side, attempting to keep up, but by the time she reached it, it was too late for her to make a hit.

A surge of realization flooded my face as I witnessed the ball whiz past Yunjin. I had won the game—yes, I had actually won! My body erupted with excitement, and I couldn't contain myself. "Yes! Hell fucking yeah! In your face! Did you see that, Jen!? "I beat you!" I exclaimed in pure triumph, relishing the victorious moment.

Yunjin's faint smile revealed a hit to her usually unshakable ego. It was clear that losing had hit her hard, especially since she's usually the one who dominates in tennis. "Congrats, babe," she conceded gracefully. "That was a good game."

I rushed up to her, unable to contain my excitement about the win. "Did you see that? The ball just sailed past you! Oh my goodness, that was too good! I wish we had cameras for a slow-motion replay!"

"Alright, Y/n, we got it, you won," Yunjin said, her tone beginning to carry a hint of irritation.

I pouted teasingly at her. "Aww, is Yunny Hunny Bunny’s ego feeling a little busted because she lost to her girlfriend?"

“It is not. My ego is fine.” She huffed,trying to maintain her composure.

"Hmm, sure, whatever you say... my little loser," I teased, a playful smirk on my face.

“Can you please stop calling me a loser? I get it already” She said looking even more annoyed.

"Is Jennifer Huh mad now?" I exclaimed, feigning shock with a playful grin.

“No… I'm not now, please shut up.” She said with an embarrassed, frustrated look on her face.

You leaned up to her ear and whispered “Make me.”

Once you leaned back you stared at her face. Lust clouded her eyes instantly. Immediately she grabbed your neck and pushed you over to the fence roughly. You stared at her, knees buckling, while she looked at you up and down knowing that you will always be on your knees for her. She leaned down to your ear and whispered “Look at you, always weak for me. Always willing to be on my knees sucking my cock like the slut you are.”

You started breathing heavily as she kissed down my neck. One hand on your neck while the other slowly itches down to your skirt. You lifted your head up to make room for her. Yunjin finally reached down to your covered pussy, rubbing it slightly. Tightening her grip on your neck. You held in a moan.

“I want to hear you scream while I fuck you senseless. Let the whole neighborhood hear you, got that baby?” She husked. Too turned on to utter a word Yunjin gripped my neck harder

“I said do you get it” She said once again .

“I will,” You whimpered.

“Good”

She spun you around roughly making sure you were facing the fence, pulling your skirt down to your legs, she started rubbing herself against you, making you even more wet. “Fuck, baby” she moans. You were holding on to the fence, looking back at her dry humping you. She then pulls her own skirt down to her legs whipping her cock out. You reached behind, and stroked her cock in your hands. Her hands slide along the outside of your thighs, then in between them, sliding against your slit. Fucking you with her fingers.

“Mmm fuck Jen.” You moaned out.

She coated her fingers with your juices, sucking them clean. Her cock slid through your dripping pussy. “Please no teasing” You whined.

She chuckled, gripping your hips tightly “Anything for you baby.” She then pushed her entire length into your pussy. “Fuck baby, you’re so fucking tight every single time” She moaned out and started to thrust hard and deeply inside you.

“Oh my fucking god” You screamed.

“Yes that's it baby, scream for me. Scream so the whole neighborhood can hear how good I fuck you. How I can reach deep inside you and fuck you so hard, so you can feel me for days.” She husked. Thrusting into you hard, making your body and the fence move with each thrust.

“You feel so good, I'm so close.” You moaned out loudly.

“No. Hold it. Don't you dare cum yet” She said, slowing down her thrust .

“Please, Jen..” You whimpered.

Her hand goes back up to your neck and slightly grips it. “Who’s pussy is this?” Her thrust is still agonizingly slow making me ache to cum. “Yours! Fuck! It's Yours!” You whined tears threatening to run down your face.

“Please let me cum!” You cry out.

Yunjin smirked “That's my girl,” Her thrust quickens once again making you moan out loudly as you get closer to the edge. Yunjin felt your walls flutter around her, she knew you were very close to the edge. Her other hand reached over to your front to rub your clit. That is all it took to send you over the edge.

“Shit Jen I'm cumming,” You screamed out.

She kept up her thrusts “ That's it baby cum for me. Cum all over my cock, soak it.”

Euphoria washes over your body as you came. Gripping tightly onto the fence so you don’t fall down. Yunjin is still thrusting into you as you came over-stimulating your whole body. “Please no more,” You told her weakly.

Coming back to my senses she now pulled out of you and spun you around, you weakly faced her after being overstimulated. She rests her forehead against mine, breathing heavily, gripping one of my thighs and lifting it.

“One more baby I know you can do one more,” she says to you.

The head of her cock enters you again then her whole length causing both of you to moan. Her thrust starts slow then slowly increases. “Fuck baby I love you” She moans out. You felt her cock twitch inside you signaling that she is cumming soon.

“I love you too, I’m almost there” You moaned.

You bounced on her cock while she thrust in you. Our moans getting louder. You clenched around her cock as you came hard, making your whole body shake with pleasure. Yunjin's thrust quickens but it gets harder to thrust since your pussy is like a vice around her cock. Her hips stilled as she cums. Her warm thick cum fills your pussy and you moan at the feeling.

Holding on to each other as your highs came down, breathing heavily. Yunjin pulled out, making you moan now feeling empty. Her cum starts leaking out of you. She reaches down to swipe it up and shoving back inside your pussy. You moan at the contact.

She leans down to my ear “Just so you know baby, I let you win” she grins pulling up her skirt and walking back to the court, she turns around and stares at you while you were still leaning against the fence, catching your breath. “Now get dressed, we are playing another game.” she smirks.

╚═════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ═════╝

#huh yunjin x reader #yunjin x reader #le sserafim smut #lesserafim x reader #yunjin smut #huh yunjin #huh yunjin smut #bitchiswild #BIW.WRITES #GP huh yunjin #GP

545 notes · View notes

actual-changeling · 1 year ago

Text

Welcome back to Alex's unhinged meta corner - although today it is less unhinged and more of a watertight analysis.

What I am about to present you is something most people have probably already noticed, but it has been three months and I still lose my mind while going through the final fifteen frame by frame (which is a normal thing normal people like us do, right? right).

You literally cannot convince me my following meta is wrong, and the only person whose criticism I will accept on this post is Michael Sheen and Michael Sheen ONLY. If you're not Michael Sheen (hi Michael Sheen who probably has a secret tumblr account) then your guess is as good as mine, though again, I think mine is solid.

So.

We all love and hate Aziraphale's "I forgive you", but what I find even more painful is the fact that before that he almost said "I love you". Then he stops himself and changes it, and the amount of micro-expressions on his face as he makes that decision is my current cause of death.

Here's the clip as evidence #1, and while it can definitely support itself, let's dive into the pain a little more, shall we?

One important thing I noticed is that Aziraphale doesn't look at Crowley while he stutters his way through his initial reaction. He blinks up at him for a few frames before averting his eyes again and only holds eye contact after the almost-confession (from here on referred to as IL-).

This is Aziraphale holding eye contact with Crowley (left) vs. him looking away (right):

The frame on the left is from the I forgive you (IFY) part of the scene, the other one from right before IL-. If we go through the above clip little by little we will find that he avoids Crowley's face the entire time and his gaze slips further and further down, which I interpret as him overthinking/trying to come up with something to respond to this entire situation.

He is overwhelmed and surprised, caught between his two main desires: Crowley and being a Good Angel.

Combing through the frames, we can actually nail down exactly when Aziraphale first makes eye contact before the IL- and when he stops. Keep the above comparison in mind! The angle is slightly different because his chin is lower and he straightens up throughout the scene.

So! This is where he starts looking at Crowley:

And this is where he stops:

Hard to see? Let's zoom in on his eyes (numbers are the file names):

Now, you might ask me "Alex, this is all fine, although a bit insane, but why is any of this important?"

Because, fellow tumblr user and good omens enthusiast, I think that looking at Crowley is what changes his mind about what to say.

He doesn't look at him -> about to confess his feelings.

He looks at him -> says the absolutely worst possible thing.

Partly to hurt him because they're both lashing out at each other during this argument, but he looks at Crowley, looks at the person that just kissed him, that told him they could have been an us, that wants him and has always wanted him, screw everyone else.

He looks at Crowley and he wants to say l love you but then what? Once he says those words, he can't leave. He just can't.

We have to remember that they have existed within a complicated dance, a game that they have been playing for centuries without ever telling each other what that game actually is, what the rules are - because they couldn't. It was based entirely on trust and knowing the other person well enough to play it safe.

Crowley just flipped the playing board. Nothing is the way it should be, he is refusing to do their dance, refusing to play. He is looking at him and daring him to stop trying to put the pieces back on the board. The only thing neither of them has done yet is actually say I love you out loud.

Saying those words would mean stepping away from the playing board and acknowledging the room they have been playing in. It would mean saying fuck you to heaven, yes, but it would also force Aziraphale to finally define himself outside of the role he has been playing for both Crowley and heaven, and he isn't ready for that yet.

Additionally, there is the fear and/or knowledge (depending on what else the Metatron might have said or done that we did not see) that heaven will retaliate against him and Crowley if he disobeys them now, and he does not want to risk that either.

All that is what, in my opinion, happens in his head when he averts his eyes and interrupts himself. I do kinda what to make a whole different post about his facial expressions leading up to the IFY, so I will end this one with one more bit of pain.

Ready?

Firstly, the face he makes when he makes his decision.

Look at the tight line of his lips, the pain etched into his face, the pure pain in his eyes.

This is the face of someone who knows exactly how badly he is going to hurt Crowley and himself. This is an apology, an I'm sorry for what I'm about to do, this hurts me as much as it hurts you. I'm sorry but I have to.

And then he winces afterwards. I don't know about you, but this is exactly the kind of face I make when I'm emotionally torturing myself with my own thoughts. For the final blow, please look at the picture very, very closely, especially the last frame, because Aziraphale isn't just sorry and he isn't just in pain.

Aziraphale is scared because he knows* that he might lose Crowley over this. He knows that saying I forgive you is (almost) unforgivable. He KNOWS.

He does it anyway because he will lose Crowley either way but he'd rather have him alive and hating him than dead.

With that I am concluding today's unhinged meta corner, thank you for your attention and you're welcome for the pain.

Also: If you want to call me a 'tin hatter' or insane or otherwise make fun of me - this is very much a girl, what were YOU doing at the devil's sacrament moment because you read my meta post all the way to the end. <3

*authors note: what Aziraphale thinks he knows and what is actually real is not the same thing but that's a different post

#alex talks good omens #good omens #good omens meta #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #good omens season 2 #go2 #aziracrow #crowley x aziraphale #ineffable divorce #the final fifteen #good omens kiss #good omens 2 meta #no nightingales

455 notes · View notes

calamaroo · 10 days ago

Text

Tea Time Crush : Professor Natquik x Professor Inkling

(I'm literally the only person who knows this ship lol)

I know this is kinda a rare-pair, and as far as I've seen, they've never even met in the show 💀

But still, I think they're cute together. I see them both as Barnacles's father figures/weird uncle figures, and because of that, I think they'd get along well! I see them as friends who have tea together and talk about Barnacles in the various stages of his life!

Fun fact!

I've redone Natquik's design a hundred times and currently can't make up my mind between skin color and hair texture, so this is what I've got for right now.

What DOES stay is that I gave him ocular albinism -- a type of albinism that only affects the eyes. You'd have to zoom in to see it, but he's got some pretty detailed and pretty eyes :)! From this condition (and full body albinism), his eyes are extremely sensitive to light because there's no pigment and the light goes straight into the light-receptors in the back of the eyes, and they constantly shake/jitter because of this. I chose this because I thought it'd be a creative way to show off some of his Arctic fox biology -- Arctic foxes have bad eyesight, but exceptionally hearing.

Also, another detail I love is that his animal facial features are very prominent because in the lore of my little shifter universe ( w/ some help from @mildy-vibing ) if a shifter is alone for so long they can revert to a more feral-like state, acting more animalistic and shifting back to human form less and less frequently, and eventually just completely lose their humanity. Natquik was alone for YEARS, many, many years (probably around 40 in my au), so to me, he just acts and looks more like a skittish, hyper, cold-loving fox!

==================

I'm very normal about the Professors.

#octonauts #octonauts fanart #octonauts ships #octonauts au #calamaroo's au #octonauts professor natquik #professor natquik #octonauts professor inkling #professor inkling #inkling x natquik #they are Barnacles's dads/uncles and you can't change my mind

60 notes · View notes

konigsblog · 1 year ago

Text

some smut, COD concepts that are rotting my mind away 🎀

dub-con, aphrodisiac, werewolf, hybrids, kidnapping, necromancy, gangbang, weed use, brat taming, size kink, dbf, legal age gap, professor/college student roleplay, creepy behaviour...

thinking about farmer!price fucking his sweetheart after a stressful day down in the village. coming home drunk and tipsy, before begging for a nice, sloppy blowjob from his lover.

or, gaz and soap eating your slick pussy while price and simon fuck your throat raw. strained, raspy voice coming out painful, moans stuttered as they force two, thick and heavy cocks down your throat, covered in drool. you're already babbling from johnny and kyle lapping at your pussy; fighting eachother for the opportunity to suck at your sensitive clit, two moaning messes between your caked thighs.

perhaps, kidnapper!reader taking the 141 because she's just so insane for them. she's known them for what feels like ages. finally locking them in her basement, getting them attached and attracted to her. and, you won't hesitate to let them use you as a reward for being good and obedient. if they're horrible, they get forced into a tiny cage which clearly doesn't fit someone of their stature, forced to watch as another member fucks you raw.

more on necromancer!kidnapper!ghost who terrifys you and slaps you around the place. spitting in your face and fucking you brutally til you're a desperate, wet meas beneath them.

stoner!gaz having you suck him off nice and well while he has his friends over. they all embarass and humilate you for sucking him off so lazily, getting you to put more effort into it despite the effects from the weed and your heavy eyelids. all of them using your throat till it's raw.

los vaqueros (and perhaps valeria) using aphrodisiacs on f!reader and using them while they're desperate and wet. full of cum and slick, your pussy sloppy as drags her tongue along your slit, licking alejandro's girthy cock while rudy fucks your ass.

on a softer note, farmer!soap taking care of highland cow hybrid!reader. grooming and cleaning her, pretty white little panties covering your skin, your tits out and your tail being brushed as he washes you inside a bucket of water. i have an idea that farmer!soap likes small tits — groping and sucking on them till they're puffy.

werewolf!price who loves big tits. sucking on them and squeezing them, trying his absolute hardest not to bite you, eventually muzzling him while riding his thick cock. admiring how your tits bounce, mesmerised and kneading them with his claws.

ghost!könig who's able to fuck deep into you whenever he pleases. fucking his big, fat cock into your slick pussy while your showering. watching as your expression turns lustful and your knees become weak as he slams into you, deep and hard.

physics professor!könig ploughing into you because you failed the test. he believes you should've studied harder. each thrust, he groans and occasionally asks a question, each time you get it wrong, he spanks you with a ruler till your ass is painful and your cunt is swollen from his relentless fuckings.

gambler!horangi who gambles with you. if he wins, he gets to fuck you. if you win, you get to do whatever you want to him. from him doing 69 with you, to you spanking and pegging him while tutting, shaming and humilating him for losing.

pornstar!price stroking his cock for pornstar!reader. spurting thick drops of seed all over your face before fucking you relentlessly. your pussy full and sloppy, cameraman!simon zooming in on your cunny to watch as john drills his big cock into you mercilessly.

4 keegans having a gangbang with you. hoarse and husky voice sending shivers down your spine, your eyes watery as 2 keegans penetrate your slick pussy, the other 2 fucking your tight asshole.

mean!adler putting you in your place. a brat tamer who's definitely into punishments. spanking you and recording it for you to watch back. or, exhibition kink. in the bar, getting fingered by him while he acts all nonchalant and you're dripping down his hand.

brat tamer!mace who loves 69. huge, fat dick pushed down your throat while he grips your smaller hips tightly and eats you out like a starved man. definite size kink. loves hearing you struggle while he eats you out like it's a profession.

dbf!frank woods treating his best friend's daughter like a slut in the bathroom at a get-together. having you moan his name as he pounds into you with a painful, throbbing pace. taking your panties and leaving you bare with drops of semen dripping down your thighs the entire time.

creep!hesh begging you to huff and suck at his boxers while he huffs at your used panties. a missing pair with a cum stain on them, ignoring your accusations and stuffing his boxer briefs further into your mouth while wet humping you.

575 notes · View notes

xueyidweams · 8 months ago

Text

My faves of Penacony (Aventurine & Acheron) x gn!reader who gives them a flower bouquet ramble(!!!!)

Aventurine

i have fancy gifs now woagh!

You were a bartender at a bar that was located in a pretty big casino in Penacony, where the gamblers come to drink their defeat away or celebrate their big wins. You’re pretty used to the racket and seeing the same faces and one day you see him. That gambler, he who never loses, he who has such pretty eyes and lips and he who winks at you so handsomely as you try to do your job and he who always seems to make some sort of electricity run through your whole body when your fingers brush.

You’re not a child, you know you at least like him romantically. You were gonna show your love with some flowers! That’s a classic, right? So you pick up some that you think match his pretty eyes perfectly and go to work, it’s pretty awkward but you can’t really see him anywhere else so this is your only shot.

You perk up as you’re cleaning some glasses and you hear his voice. Your heart does its routine again, beating so fast you feel like it’s gonna zoom out of your chest. You pat your chest just where your heart is and take a deep breath as he calls for his favorite drink. You make it, giving yourself an internal pep talk while doing so, and you present him with his drink. Only now, his glass is decorated with the flowers you bought for him, you decided to be more subtle at the end with a little note. “I hope you like the flowers, no match for your pretty eyes but I hope it makes you smile nonetheless.” Aeons you sucked at romance but damn it you tried and now you feel hot under the collar as you try your best to focus on your customers while aventurine’s eyes are STARING directly at your nape you can FEEL it.

You flinch a bit when he calls your name with that sultry voice of his, you go up to him trying to keep up some sort of professionalism. though that all goes down the window when he beckons you a bit closer, picks up a flower from the glass and tucks it onto your ear. “I think they look even prettier on you.” You stumble over your words as he smiles wordlessly, his eyes full of warmth you didn’t know they could hold and oh Aeons he is so much more pretty like this. Prettier closer, you really don’t want to pull away but there are customers yelling for you already and ugh!

He chuckles as he notices your obvious agitation, “go look after your customers, I’ll treat you to dinner if you’d like? Whatever you want, it’s on me.” He gets even closer, he is shorter when he’s sitting and its adorable to see him looking up at you— “if you’d allow me to privilege of getting to know you better, of course.”

Acheron

As a hotel worker for the family themselves you’re expected to be professional and helpful at all times. Always show a smile never be so impatient, they are precious guests after all.

You sigh as you clean another pool of a soda that’s not even sold in Penacony, how did that even get there? as you complain in your mind about how rude these people are to you just because you’re getting paid to clean up their messes doesn’t mean they can just—

“Hello?”

Your head snaps up and your customer smile comes back, “Hello! Anything I can help you with, miss?” She blinks at you for a moment, caught off guard by your overly cheery attitude, she looks around and then at you. her gaze feels intense, it makes you feel shy. She finally speaks, “I’m.. lost. I don’t know where my room is.” Oh, okay that’s easy.

“What was the number, miss?” She looks at you blankly again, you both sit in silence for a few seconds, and she speaks again. “I’m sorry I forgot that… too.” You sigh as you internally facepalm. Deciding that this pretty but directionally confused lady needs help, you put on your big person pants and ask for her room number from the reception and you escort her to her room. She thanks you as she looks at you from head to toe, there’s a small smile on her face.

This happens a few more times over the week, you keep helping her. her company is really nice, she doesn’t really judge and you can talk about how much of a bother she can be, she affirms your woes with a nod or a hum and thats enough honestly. worst of all.. okay look, love at first sight might be cliche but come on! she’s pretty, tall, has a nice voice and is polite to you. she even brushed a plastic leaf that got on your head and her hand dipped to your cheek, you could feel the cold metal on her fingers and the eye contact went on for a few seconds too long and you felt yourself melt. plus! she was a guest, who knows how long she’s gonna be here? better take your chances.

You give yourself a pretty short pep talk, “if yes hug her if no run away.” pretty good plan all things considered. You had a purple flower bouquet on your hands and some chocolate that was cheesily made for valentine and you got it half for the price. You knock on her door and hear a shuffle, with every step she takes your heart beats faster and faster until she opens the door and it feels like the time stops. You stutter and stumble as her eyes bore into you, she seems full of interest but it still makes you nervous to be the center of attention. “I.. I um… ah!” You can’t do it, you thrust the flowers onto her arms, she takes it and you make a run for it, you’re so dumb dumb dumb what the hell were you thinking oh Aeons she hates you now she does—

what you don’t see is her smelling the flowers and looking after your running form, a familiar yet distinct warmth bleeds to her heart. Her smile a little softer, her eyes a little warmer, she holds onto the flowers and the next time she sees you, she will have some flowers ready for you too.

#im like a machine holy moly i wanted to write for more charas but its 1 am i have classes tmrw😭#hsr aventurine #honkai star rail #aventurine #aventurine x reader #hsr x reader #acheron #acheron x reader #hsr acheron #hsr acheron x reader #honkai star rail x reader

287 notes · View notes

ropes3amthoughts · 3 months ago

Text

To my homies who encouraged me to get Twitter, thank you so much. There are so many gorgeous Kabrus there and the overall Kabru content is plentiful. Also I just saw this absolutely divine jawdropping enchanting gorgeous stunning beautiful Kabru art and I am in a state of shock. Like look at this holy shit?????? Like click on the link and click on the image and zoom in on the details and stuff this is so incredible. I mean you don’t have to but this is so good and I’m losing my mind and there are so many little details you won’t see unless you zoom in so I recommend it.

For anyone looking quickly this is not my art it belongs to the Twitter user in the link and it’s so good I would recommend looking at it

https://x.com/Neruchiru_08/status/1841319033632862418

I get insane under the cut

It’s been like 4 hours and I cannot stop thinking about it. Every time I stand up I start shaking. I feel nauseous and am coughing constantly. I feel like I am choking. That image will be burned into my brain for a very long time. Why doesn’t Twitter let you reblog with really long comments I need to say a million compliments. My voice is cracking. My heart is hammering. I’m warm and sweaty. Holy shit I am fagging it up bro. It’s beautiful as an art piece because the composition and colors and stuff are absolutely amazing and it’s beautiful if you’re queer (or straight and like Kabru too) because Kabru looks so good. His shoulders are showing and something about Kabru’s shoulders showing makes me insane. Like I thought the whole “you can’t show your shoulders” dress code thing in school was a bunch of dumb bullshit but oh boy I understand now. Every time I see Kabru’s shoulders I think “I want to bite that man” and then I’m all like “WOW who just thought that” but it’s me I’m thinking that I’m going insane over him I want to bite his shoulders he makes me crazy he’s so pretty oh goodness wow oh wow oh wowwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww IM GOING INSANE a lot more people have seen it now but I need to show this to everyone you guys don’t understand how this makes me feel I’m going to pass away and fall over and cry you guys look pretty Kabru art guys guys it’s Kabru being gorgeous oh my fucking god guys guys I am going to be sick guys oh god guys do you see him he’s so pretty guys guys guys holy shit dude guys. I am an enjoyer of the arts. I enjoy this art. For sure. Wow. Awesome. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh you guys. Guys. Guys. Guys. I am going to lose my mind. Ough. Guys. Guys guys guys. Do you????:!: seee????? The Kabru??????? Oh my god. Compliments to the artist. Beautiful. Beautiful lovely fantastic work. Awesome. This is great. I’m losing it. I showed my discord friends and I reblogged on Twitter and stuff but I wanted to show you guys too because I am a big fan of this beautiful Kabru art. I love this insanely much. Kabru fish…I love this creature the Kabru fish. Great 👍👍👍👍👍👍👍👍 chat I am gonna die this is too beautiful Ough beautiful Kabru

I’m being so dramatic you guys but do you understand the power this art has do you understand my feelings I love this art so much 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 Kabru 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 Kabru fish 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 gorgeous 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

#long post #dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #kabru #kabru dunmeshi #kabru of utaya #kabru dungeon meshi #cw slur #the artist doesn’t say anything I call myself a fag because I am #idk if anybody is uncomfortable with the f slur or not #I’m queer btw I can reclaim that #usually I’ll just say I’m being gay but the emotions I’m feeling can not be described by anything as well as ‘fagging it up’#I’ve never felt this way for a man before this is like next level gayness #like I’ve found fictional guys attractive and stuff but I’ve never felt for them the way I do for Kabru #I would fall to my knees and bark like a dog if Kabru asked me he’s so attractive #he makes me feel fuzzy and stuff #Kabru disease…incurable. fatal. I am passing away #you guys don’t understand I love him so much I feel like I am going to explode #Kabru 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭#this post feels crazier than normal but whatever #these are my true feelings they’re from my heart #Kabru 💕💕💕💕💕 love forever 💖💖💖💖💖💖#kabru posting #rope/spider post

64 notes · View notes

hoomandoescosplay · 3 months ago

Text

Rivals To Lovers | Regulus Black x Reader Oneshot

The air around us is thick with anticipation for the game. As my teammates and I are getting ready we chatter excitedly about the game. Games against Slytherin are always enjoyable since both teams always get fueled with competitive rivalry.

I feel a strong pat on my back and look up to see James grinning at me. “Kick Black’s ass for all of us, got it?” I grin back at him. James is always the one who is pumping us all up before matches, and it works wonders for our morale.

He always makes sure we are fully prepared for our opponents regardless of the house we’re facing. I nod my head vigorously as I get more excited. Regulus and I have always been known to get on each other's nerves especially when it comes to us both fighting for the Snitch.

Some of the others cheer at James’s words and I can’t help but laugh. I absolutely adore everyone on the team and how supportive they all are. I put on my last bit of gear as Marlene walks up to me.

She gives me a wink and pats me on the back. "You ready to kick some ass?" A grin forms on her face, clearly excited for the game about to start.

“You know it.” I grin back at her. Marlene gives a loud cheer causing our other teammates to look in our direction. I see Sirius snicker from across the room as James rounds us up into a circle.

He gives us all one last pep talk before ushering us out onto the field. We all exit the locker rooms and line up, our brooms in our hands. We face the other team as they mirror us. The sky is clear, no sign of rain. Our last match against Slytherin was horrid with how bad the rain was coming down.

The crowd is going wild already, the stands packed with people. Regulus and I make eye contact as he finds his place in front of me. The air between us has the usual charge of tension as we look at each other.

I can see the competitive fire in his eyes and it's clear he wants nothing more than to win. He gives me a slight nod, his face stoic as ever. I nod back at him in return before getting my broom in the proper position. I can tell this will be a fun game. Our eyes break away for each other as we see the referee getting ready to throw the Quaffle into the air.

“Hope you prepared to lose this match Black.” I say with a smirk as the Quaffle goes up and all of the players immediately get on their brooms and begin to fly in the stadium.

I watch the Quaffle get hit back and forth as my eyes scan for any sight of the Snitch. The cheers fluctuate in volume anytime one of the teams is close to getting a point but I do my best to block it out.

My mind was so focused on finding the Snitch that I didn’t even realize someone was next to me at first. I jump at the sound of Regulus' voice. “See anything yet.”

I turn my head to look at him. “Do you honestly think I’d give you an answer to that question?” He smirks at my response, making me glare at him slightly.

“It seems as though (Y/N) and Regulus are starting their little feud a bit early in the match today.” Remus says from the announcer stand, catching my attention.

I have to hold back a smile. Comments like that usually get on my nerves cause it puts more attention on Regulus and I but for once it was helpful.

“Nice chat but I’ll be going now, Black.” I say before zooming off to trail the Snitch. Thank you Remus for helping me find it. I chuckle slightly as I hear him curse under his breath.

Regulus is very competitive. Almost as much as I am which makes these games even more enjoyable. The seekers on the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff teams are good but Regulus is the closest to my skill level. He makes me actually want to put effort into winning.

I can feel him gaining on me making me speed up a bit more, my eyes never leaving the Snitch. The air around us nearly hums with our energy as we weave through the other players.

A small gasp comes out of my mouth as I stop my broom short. I blink rapidly as the Quaffle just barely misses me. I scan the area to see one of the Slytherin beater’s snickers.

All of the Gryffindors watching the match begin to boo, causing the Slytherin side to get even more riled up. I hear James call out to me from his position but I can’t hear him over all of the noise. “What?” I say, my own voice getting drowned out. He repeats himself as I read his lips. “You alright?” I nod my head and give him a thumbs up.

Regulus fly’s up next to me again. As I glance at him I can tell he’s extremely pissed off. "That was on purpose." He says as his jaw clenches slightly. "That bastard was deliberately aiming for you."

I let out a small sigh. “Don’t go all protective mode on me right now. We’re in the middle of a match.” His scowl deepens at my words. "You almost got hit by a quaffle." He says, his voice low and dark. "Forgive me for being upset about."

“Can you be upset about it later? It’s going to look out of character right now.” I lower my voice as well. “I’m fine. I'm not hurt. That’s all that matters.”

His mind is racing making it hard for me to keep a neutral look on my face. I love how protective he is when it comes to me but I would rather avoid others noticing it right now.

“Another point for Gryffindor. Guess Slytherin can’t keep up with us today.” A small smack sound emits from the announcer stand as Remus gets hit on the back of the head slightly by McGonagall.

I take a moment to look up at the announcer stand and I see Remus rub the back of his head while McGonagall looks at him in disapproval. I let out a silent chuckle, shaking my head at the sight.

“You sure you’re fine?” Regulus’s voice gets my attention again as I nod. “I’m fine I promise.” He continues to look at me for a moment, a flicker of worry and protectiveness flashing on his face before disappearing.

I see his eyes dart from mine and I immediately pick up on why. I spin my head around as I see the Snitch as well. It's right there, in both of our sights. I watch it flutter near the stands and take off, my body pushing me forward. I feel all of my focus hone in on the Snitch.

Regulus and I are side by side as we chase the Snitch. Anytime one of us gains a bit of space the other catches up quickly after. The Snitch makes many fast turns and drives but that only makes us increase our speed.

Adrenaline pumps into my body, making my muscles tense. I've never had such a close chase for the Snitch before. I can see him from the corner of my eye, his face a mix of concentration and determination.

My fingers tighten their grip about my broom as I lean further down to increase my speed. I see him copy my movements making me grumble slightly. “Copycat much?”

"I need to catch the Snitch somehow," He replies, his voice slightly strained. "Not my fault you have some good techniques." I continue to follow you closely, my eyes glued to the Snitch as I process his words.

“Didn’t expect to get a compliment from you on the field.” I tease as I reach my hand out to try and grab the Snitch. He just rolls his eyes before reaching his own hand out.

Each time one of us tries to grab the Snitch, the other is right there too. We're so closely matched that it's almost irritating me. “Come on.” I mumble under my breath as I stretch my arm out even further.

Again he copies my movements, the Snitch grazing his fingertips making me slightly panic. There is no way I’m going to let him win. I won’t let Slytherin win.

An idea pops in my head. I’ve never actually attempted this trick outside of practice, and definitely never at a speed like this. The Han around my broomstick clenches as I debate if it’s worth trying.

A small growl comes out of Regulus as he tries to grasp the Snitch again. I make up my mind and start to shift my position slightly on my broom. Please don’t fall off. I repeat in my mind as I steady myself while beginning to stand.

Regulus notices my shift and immediately slows his broom down slightly. “What are you doing?” He asks with an alarmed tone. I keep my eyes on the Snitch as I answer him. “Winning.”

"By attempting something that is incredibly dangerous and could result in you falling off your broom?" He says, his voice laced with irritation and concern.

“Exactly what I’m doing.” I nod my head in confirmation. He watches in horror as I rise onto my broom and start to walk towards the end. "Do not do—" Regulus starts to say, but cuts himself off as he sees me grab the Snitch. "Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me."

My eyes light up as my hand grabs a hold of the snitch. That little bit of extra length was all I needed. I cheer loudly and raise the Snitch up in my hand before wobbling slightly.

I readjust myself to sit on my broom properly before continuing to celebrate. “Hah I won this time.” I say with a grin as I hold it out in front of Regulus’s face.

"I can see that." He grumbled, his expression turning into a full-on scowl. Despite his irritation at my victory, I can tell he has a small rush of pride at my ability to win like that. "You're bloody insane, you know that?"

The Gryffindor section cheers loudly as the Slytherins sulk slightly at the outcome. We both begin to fly down to the center of the field where we started as I reply back. “I know. But you love this side of me.”

He let out a huff of irritation, but can’t help the subtle upturn at the corner of his mouth at my words. “You’re ridiculous,” He finally responds while shaking his head, but there is a lack of annoyance in his words.

As we land we both dismount our brooms. I immediately get swept up by my teammates as Sirius and James lift me up on their shoulders, cheering with the rest of our team.

I see Regulus roll his eyes as James and Sirius parade me around the field. It wouldn't be a proper Gryffindor victory if they didn't parade me around. I can’t help but laugh out loud at their antics. After they get tired of carrying me around they place me back down on the grass and each of our teammates gives me a pat on the back.

My eyes roam to Regulus every now and then as he watches from the sidelines. As Marlene pulls me into a side hug one of Regulus’s teammates pulls him towards their respective team room to change and leave the field.

“We’re going to have the best party tonight in the common room.” Sirius grins at me as we all begin to head to our own designated room to change as well.

─── ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ ───

I yawn slightly as I sit outside of the Slytherin common room. I expected someone to come out of the entrance by now. I usually don’t have to wait this long to sneak inside. Regulus and I should really pick times for when we meet at each other’s common rooms.

My eyes begin to close as I lean my head against a pillar. I hear faint footsteps but ignore them, keeping my eyes closed. I then hear a snicker making me open my eyes. “Having fun down there love?” Regulus asks with a smirk on his face.

“Did you have me wait out here as payback for winning?” I playfully whined before reaching my hands out indirectly asking him to pull me up.

He chuckles softly, taking my hands in his and pulling me up to my feet. "Maybe a little bit." His eyes roam over me for a moment, taking in my appearance. "You look tired."

“I’m exhausted.” I say as I wrap my hands around his waist and lean my head against his chest. Regulus wraps his arms around me as his hands run soothing circles on my back.

“You’re probably exhausted from that ridiculous stunt you pulled to win.” He teases. I look up at him and puff my cheeks out. “No, I've been practicing that for a while. I’m tired cause your brother and James throw insane parties. Gryffindor parties are not for the weak.”

Regulus let out a bark of laughter, his hands drifting to my hips. “Yeah well, that tends to happen when James and Sirius are involved.” I start to laugh, leaning my head back on his chest.

Regulus pulls me closer against his body. "You were impressive today though. Don't think I didn't notice how good you are out there on the field." A smile forms on my lips as I look up at him.

Without saying anything my hands go up to his face as I pull him towards me, kissing him gently. A small hum emits in his throat as my lips meet his.

His hands grip my hips a little tighter, holding me against him as our kiss deepens. A moment later he breaks away from the kiss, our eyes locking on one another. “You were pretty good out there too.” I return the compliment as my smile grows.

“Of course I was.” He says with a smirk, leaning down to brush his nose against mine. “Not that you can blame me for being distracted when I had such a good view the whole time.”

I laugh again from his comment. “Alright, sure. We'll go with that as the reason you lost.” Regulus rolls his eyes at your response but there's no irritation behind them.

He leans his forehead against mine as I move my hands to rest on his shoulders. "You're lucky I love you." I hum lowly. “I love you too.”

61 notes · View notes

cowboyemeritus · 3 months ago

Text

Shovel Bums (Cardinal Copia/Reader)

Shovel Bum (n): a slang term referring to a contract archaeologist; someone who works in the cultural resource management industry.

Or, you and Copia help each other get through a long week of fieldwork. (18+)

Tags: workplace relationship, secret relationship, outdoor sex, archaeology au

Read on AO3

Notes: this is so incredibly self-indulgent, but it is basically my life (not the affair part, lol). i hope it's not too niche.

still slowly working my way out of writers block. lots and lots of ideas that i want to share with you all :)

feedback is always welcome!

It’s only September, but fall is in the air. The mornings are chilly, the days are still annoyingly hot, but the nights, for now, are just right. The rest of the crew has already gone to bed, leaving just you and Copia sitting around the dying campfire. Though the sun has set and the day has been long — everyday, it seems, lasts forever in the field — there is still plenty of work for you two. Gadgets need to be charged. Data needs to be reviewed. Site forms need to be completed. If you had time, you’d make a plan for tomorrow that’s more detailed than “walk in a straight line and don’t die,” but it would be a fruitless endeavor. Seldom do your expectations actually come to pass.

This project, for instance, has just been roadblock after roadblock, mishap after mishap. Equipment failures, rough terrain, and perplexing sites merely scratch the surface of all the things that have worked to slow you down. That’s all par for the course in this line of work, but when you haven’t interacted with society in days, it starts to eat at you. When you know you’re sleeping in a tent tonight and your next shower isn’t coming for days, there are only so many transects you can walk, only so many rocks you can look at, before you lose your mind completely. And with two days left and still so much ground to cover, it’s hard not to feel the pressure building. You’ve already done two sessions out here, and there’s only enough cash left in the project budget for this week, a fact that haunts you and Copia like a specter. This thing has to be done by the end of Sunday, or else.

But who cares about that when there’s cool, old shit to look at?

“I’m telling you,” you say quietly, for the sake of your sleeping crewmates, “that point Dew found this morning? Elko Corner Notched.” It’s a fantastic specimen, knapped from one of the many chunks of petrified wood that erode out of the mesas, littering the landscape. This one is red, with bands of orange and yellow that, to you, resembles a sunset. To illustrate your point you hold up one of your (many) artifact guides alongside your tablet, a photograph of the projectile already on display. Copia looks up from his paperwork and squints at it from across the dying fire, eventually coming over get a better look. You gaze up at him as he takes the device from you, admiring how handsome he looks in the orange glow. Though he’s more diligent than anyone on the crew about applying sunscreen, you swear he gets more freckles every day. Not that you mind. His nose scrunches up a little as he looks back and forth between the screen and the book.

“I don’t know,” he says, a hint of teasing in his voice. “Still looks like Chaco to me. And wasn’t it by that room-block we recorded yesterday?” You put on your best faux-pout, secretly delighting in the mirthful look in his eyes.

“Well, yeah,” you acquiesce, snatching back the tablet so that you can zoom in on the stem of the point, where it would have been hafted to the shaft of an arrow. “But, look. The base is concave. Chaco is convex or straight.” Copia plops himself down next to you with one of his cute little grunts, resting his chin on your shoulder. “And look at how serrated it is.” He hums in agreement, at this point merely feigning interest in the artifact’s true identity. You feel an arm slink around your back, his hand coming to your hip and gently squeezing the flesh there.

“I love it when you correct me,” he murmurs into your ear. It’s meant only for you, but sound travels in strange ways out here and you can’t help the chastising look you give him. Copia flashes you a cheeky smile to show you just how not-sorry he is and you roll your eyes.

“You’re not gonna be saying that for long, ‘co-Project Manager.’” You laugh, nervous excitement bubbling up at the thought of your recent promotion. Copia had been instrumental in helping you get it, arguing to the company that he needed the help and you, already his right hand, could handle the responsibility. He’d held your hand throughout the process of applying for your state supervisor permit, too, a truly harrowing process that makes your skin crawl to think about. And while the change has brought a staggering increase in the amount of hours you work and corporate bullshit you put up with, splitting the project with him has definitely helped you ease into your new role. With his attention to detail and your obsession with efficiency, you make a pretty solid team. Copia has made this nightmare bearable; you’re grateful to have him, even if he’s a little shit sometimes.

Copia chuckles, finally closing the gap between you. His lips are chapped from the sun, but you’re certain yours are, too. Under the fresh coating of smoke from the fire is the smell of exertion mingled with the artificial scent of cleansing wipes. No one on the crew has had a proper shower in days; that’s just how camping projects go. They’re sweaty, and dusty, and seem to drag on forever, but the satisfaction of looking at a filled-out map at the end of the session (and the notion of several days off) makes it entirely worth it. At this point, though, you’re more-or-less blind to the sweaty human smell, and the feeling of having him so close, especially after the hellish few days you’ve had, is too tempting to resist. Pressing further into the kiss, you can’t help the quiet, contended hum that emanates from your chest.

There’s a rustling from Cirrus’ tent, and both of your heads snap in that direction. Copia, suddenly skittish, scoots away and a moment of tense, almost fearful silence passes over you. What you’re doing isn’t technically against the rules, but with the promotion, it looks a little suspicious. When the opportunity presents itself, you agreed, you’ll make… whatever this thing is, known to any affected parties. For now, though, it’s easier to lurk in the shadows, stealing kisses when no one is looking.

When she, when anyone, fails to emerge and spoil your fun, you give Copia a pleading look. He’s back at your side almost instantly, capturing your mouth again. Eagerly, your arm snakes behind his back, fingers twisting into the thick brown hair at the base of his skull. You lightly scratch at his scalp, and can feel the shiver that runs down his spine. Copia groans quietly into your mouth, then nips at your bottom lip. The lingering traces of warmth from the fire are nothing compared to the heat his advances stir within you. Suddenly needing him desperately, you allow your lips to part, tongue slipping through to prod at his. Copia’s mouth is sweet with the lingering taste of the candy you’ve carefully rationed all week, and you press into him greedily, wanting nothing more than to feel his hands on your body. You get a very risky, very tempting idea.

There’s a string of saliva connecting your tongues when you pull away. For a moment, you wonder how that’s even possible with how much you sweat all the damn time. “Let’s,” you start, nodding in the direction of the trees. Copia gives you a confused look. “Somewhere more private.” The realization hits him. He quirks an eyebrow, now looking rather bemused. Mischief is attractive on him.

“Bellissima, we could be seen… together. People will start to talk.” No one on the crew gets paid enough to care and you both know that. He’s just riling you up. You grunt, stealing another desperate kiss.

“Not if you’re quiet,” you grumble, planting your lips on his pulse point. Emboldened by desire, your hands find his, bringing them to your breasts. “I need you. It’s been…” You have to restart your count when he thumbs over your nipples, already hard through the flimsy fabric of your camisole. Your thighs press together as you recall the last time you had him; frantic, hurried, just minutes before mobilizing on Monday morning. “It’s been five whole days. That’s far too long.” Copia looks like he can’t help the laugh that escapes him. The only option is to silence him with your mouth, but when you finally let him escape for air he’s still got that shit-eating grin on his face. Suddenly, it’s not so handsome anymore. You scowl. “I’m dying here.”

“A snake could bite you on the butt.”

“I’ll bite you on the butt,” you say. Copia cocks his head as if to say don’t threaten me with a good time, and you roll your eyes. Huffing, you stamp your foot, kicking up a small cloud of dust. “All you do is fucking question me. Got me promoted, for what?” You stand up from the log and wince as your hip pops. When the session is over, you’ll need to thoroughly stretch every part of your body. “Let’s go.” You take a few paces away from camp, looking over your shoulder to find Copia tailing you. This is greatly satisfying, and you smirk at him as you saunter off into the forest.

“I’ve created a monster,” you think you hear him say.

The first step in your scheme is to put as much distance between you and the camp as is possible. To that end, you walk out about 50 meters into the trees, stop, decide it’s still too close, then trudge out another 20 or so. It takes a few tries to find a good spot; one large juniper has a colony of ants eating away at its base, the ground beneath another is pockmarked with rodent burrows. Eventually you find a tree about 75 meters out and decide it fits your needs. It’s tall enough for you to lean against, and one large branch juts out right around waist height. You’re only screwed if someone needs to take a piss and chooses the wrong direction to walk in. Liking those odds, you plant yourself down on the branch, watching impatiently, arms crossed, as Copia catches up. Without needing instruction, he slots himself between your parted legs.

In an instant your fingers are tangling into the front of his shirt, pulling him in. Now that you’ve gotten a taste, you need as much of him as you can get. His tongue pushes past your lips the moment your mouths meet, and when he presses his hips into you the hardness of his arousal is obvious. Encouraging him, you grind into him as best you can, planting a hand on the branch to steady yourself. On one stroke the zipper of his hiking pants catches your clit and you moan quietly, pleasure winding up in your gut like a rattlesnake waiting to strike. Copia chuckles into your mouth, cupping your cheek to stop you from following when he pulls away, glancing at his wristwatch.

“It’s already 9:45,” he observes. You stare at him, deadpan, needing only the exhaustion in your bones to tell you it’s probably too late to be doing this.

“Be quick, then,” you mutter, reaching for the button on his trousers. He grunts when your knuckles brush against his hard length, but he lets you work without complaint. Your mouth fills with saliva as you pull him out of his briefs, taking a moment to admire his manhood and savor the weight of it in your hand. Even in the dark — it suddenly dawns on you that you didn’t bring a flashlight, which will make getting back to camp interesting — you can just barely see that the head is flushed a deep pink that blooms all the way down his shaft. He likes to tease, but you know he needs you just as bad. You spit into your palm, giving him a few quick jerks. Copia groans, head falling back as he starts gently fucking into your fist. Watching him, you’re overcome with the desire to take him in your mouth, but that’s not a good idea until both of you have had a date with soap and running water. Instead, you take his hand and again bring it to your chest, untucking your shirt so that he can reach under it. There’s a pleasant jolt when the pad of one of his fingers brushes across your bare nipple and you whine, tilting your head upwards so Copia knows he should kiss you. With a quiet hum he obliges. This kiss is more gentle than before, simpler, but that’s okay. It makes you slow down for what feels like the first time in days.

It’s an exquisitely beautiful evening. The sky is dusted with more stars than you could ever get in the city, twinkling like fine crystal beads against the faint backdrop of the Milky Way. Even in the darkness the forest around you is alive, a symphony of crickets scoring your tryst. An owl hoots somewhere, the sound carried on the cool, lazy breeze. Moments like these, when you’re able to liberate yourself from the demands of the job and appreciate your surroundings, have become increasingly rare. It’s hard to be mindful when you’re constantly, both physically and mentally, in motion, and the deadlines often overshadow your interest in the material. Sometimes, it’s hard to be thorough and scientific when all you want to do is lay down in a freezer and sleep. Sometimes, you forget that you chose to do this, that you’re an archaeologist, and not some drone at the mercy of whatever utility company is footing the bill.

Right now, though, none of that matters. If only for a little while, work doesn’t exist. It’s just you, him, and the endless night.

Soon, though, the moment is over. You grow impatient. Growling, you shoot up from your seat, fumbling with the fastenings of your own pants. Your mouth is still interlocked with Copia’s, the sudden motion causing your teeth to clack together. Somehow you just can’t get the button undone. The piece of plastic keeps slipping through your fingers, still slick with saliva and smears of precum. Suddenly, you want to fucking scream, to give up this game and go flop down in your tent and pass out, but then Copia’s hands are shooing yours away. He pulls back from the kiss to rest his forehead against yours, encouraging you to take a few deep breaths in and out your nose. You recognize the look in his eyes from the field, from the moments of stress and crisis you’ve had over these past few weeks. Your heartbeat begins to steady, knowing its meaning:

Chill out, baby. I’ve got you.

You sigh, eyes sliding shut as you let Copia take over the task of unbuttoning your pants. He nestles his face into the crook of your neck as he does, planting a kiss to the sensitive flesh. You feel the glide of his tongue, sampling the salt of your skin, and shiver. Once he’s done with your zipper he grabs your trousers at the hips and tugs them down your legs, leaving them bunched up at your knees. You feel almost childish, needing him to undress you like this, but can’t deny how arousing it is to watch him take care of you. As if to prove that point, the tips of his fingers ghost over your outer lips, just enough for him to feel the wetness soaking through your panties. Even the most simple touch is electrifying against your frayed nerves, and you whimper. Copia’s hand slips under the waistband, skilled digits immediately finding your clit and drawing tight circles around it. A choked sob leaves you when he bites down on your neck, not hard enough to leave a mark, but enough to evoke the image of him claiming you in your whirling, lust-clouded mind.

“Cope,” you whine, about to rag-doll against him. “Fuck. Come on.” He snickers into your neck, the stray hairs of his normally well-kept mustache tickling your skin, before leaving another playful nip just under your jaw. Grinding his hot, hard cock against your hip, he grunts. The hand pleasuring you retreats, his pointer finger hooking under your panties and tugging them down. He delves between your folds once more, gathering your arousal and using it to slick up his length. There’s a pinprick of loss, of missing having him close, as he turns you around to bend over the tree limb, but it’s quickly replaced by anticipation when the head of his cock prods at your center. Bracing yourself against the branch, you need only wiggle your hips enticingly and he’s pushing into you, a held-back moan rumbling deep in his chest. The stretch is heavenly, hitting all the spots that have gone so tragically neglected. Copia gives an experimental thrust and your head falls between your shoulders. “Oh, fuck, yes.” Your legs are already wobbling. You choose not to think about how the ten hours of hiking on tomorrow’s agenda will feel.

For the time being, both of his hands snake around to your front, sliding under your shirt to fondle your breasts. He latches onto your nipples almost instantly, and each time he pinches the little pink buds a shockwave travels down your spine. Already, that climactic energy is building, nestled deep in your belly. Copia’s pace is casual, unhurried, as if he wasn’t griping about the time only minutes ago. You can feel the heat of his body against your back, his still-damp field shirt sticking to your equally sweaty skin. When you get home, you’ll take the longest shower known to mankind. If Copia is lucky, maybe you’ll invite him to join you. Right now, though, you need more from him. Much more. Twisting your head back, you smash your mouth into his with a needy whine, nipping and tugging at his bottom lip.

“Faster,” you beg, pressing your backside into him so that he can reach even deeper inside you. “Please.” Copia chuckles against your lips, a hand traveling to the apex of your legs to toy with your aching clit. You swear there’s a glint of something wicked in his eyes as he watches your whole body convulse with pleasure, but before you can chastise him for teasing he captures your mouth once more, tongue pushing forcefully past your lips. He keeps you like that a while, using the hand at your chest to hold you in place until you see stars. Once he’s had his fill you finally get your wish, his hips bucking into you with earnest. The clap of skin-on-skin makes you a little nervous, but it’s just so hard to care about being caught when he’s doing you this good.

Copia grunts, pressing his cheek into yours. You can feel the sweat beading at his temples. “You make me work like a fucking dog all day, and still all you do is boss me around. I had better be getting overtime for this.”

You roll your eyes. “Oh, you poor thing. Sorry I’m so-“ The head of his cock hits your sweet spot perfectly and you have to bite your lip to stifle a moan. “Demanding.”

Copia snickers, kissing you again. “Anything to please you, Boss Lady.”

At this pace, it doesn’t take long until you’re teetering on the edge of your release. From the intensity of Copia’s breathing and the small stutters in his thrusts, you can tell he’s not far off either. The tree bark, sun-dried and peeling off in strips, digs into your palms, but you cling tighter to the branch as your knees begin to knock together. He still has a hand on your breast, rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. One of yours, smaller and not nearly as worn (yet), comes up to rest atop it. Absentmindedly, you trace the thin line of a scar running down the length of his middle finger, a souvenir from his field school days. He takes that as a cue to intertwine his digits with yours. Something about that finally sets you off, and with a few more swipes around your clit you’re falling apart, shaking and cursing. It’s like every thread of tension in your body decides to relax at once, forcefully expelling the stress you’ve been bottling up all week. Copia says nothing but is with you through the entire ordeal, planting soft kisses on your cheek as you come down. Once you start squirming from overstimulation he stops playing with your clit, but keeps fucking you just as hard and fast. A few moments later he moans through gritted teeth, pulling out to jerk himself off the rest of the way. Over your combined breathing you can just barely make out the sound of his release spattering onto the sandy soil below.

You remain like that, him hunched over your bent form, for a few beats. After collectively catching your breath Copia straightens back up, stretching with a satisfied groan. Before either of you can forget, he kicks some dirt over the newly consecrated, cum-soaked ground, concealing the evidence of your rendezvous. “That do it for ya?” He asks, tucking his softening member back in his pants. Contented, you sigh, nodding as you pull your own trousers up. You don’t bother with the accursed button, choosing to have faith in just your zipper.

“Oh, yeah.” Once you’re confident your pants will stay up, you pull him in for another kiss. “Thank you for indulging me.” He smiles gently at you, green eyes twinkling like the stars above. All of sudden, the entire day seems to hit you at once, your eyes growing heavy. You and Copia yawn at the same time, then share a laugh. He checks his watch again, letting out another amused huff.

“9:57,” he notes. “That’s a new record, I think.”

“Congrats,” you say, stepping around to give him playful smack on the ass. “We’ll get you a medal.” He smirks, raising an eyebrow.

“How about a raise?” At this you both crack up again, giggling until your sides begin to hurt. After a few deep breaths, you shake your head, taking a few paces back in the direction of camp.

“This project will kill us first.”

Still basking in afterglow, the journey back to the tents is comfortably quiet. The silence remains as the two of you go about packing up all the tools and papers you left around the fire, now completely dead. To be safe, though, Copia grabs a shovel and dumps a load of sand onto the coals, stirring the whole mess around until he’s absolutely sure it’s been smothered. You watch as he does, already dreading the chill the morning will bring. A decadent thought, that of curling up next to him and drifting off to sleep, crosses your mind. Something in your chest flutters, and you quickly stamp out the idea, lest you get carried away. With a sigh, you sling your pack over your shoulder and shuffle towards your tent.

As you’re unzipping the rain-flap, you hear Copia approach from behind. Turning to acknowledge him, you have to stifle a surprised squeak as he cups your cheek and presses his mouth to yours, keeping you there for a good, long while. Even after making him fuck you, and though you’re exhausted, you can’t help but feel at least a little excited by it.

“See you tomorrow,” he says. It is, sadly, bedtime.

“See you tomorrow,” you whisper, already missing him. Unable to help yourself, you lean in for another chaste kiss, relishing in the warmth and softness of his lips. Before it can turn into another, you open the tent the rest of the way, flopping down on your mattress pad. After sealing yourself inside, the last of your energy is spent shucking off your dirty, sweaty clothes and crawling into your sleeping bag. As soon as your eyes shut, you’re asleep. When you wake in the morning, the only dream you can recall is of Copia, gazing up with wonder at a sky full of shooting stars.

You’ll tell the crew, and maybe HR, eventually. For now, though, what you two have is precious. It’s all yours, and you wouldn’t give that up for anything.

#my writing #the band ghost #the band ghost fanfiction #the band ghost x reader #cardinal copia x reader #there's a lot of bitching in this but i promise i like my job!!!#also i'm not anticipating anyone to really care about all the technical archaeology/CRM stuff #but if you want an explanation as to wtf i'm talking about at any point lmk #always down to talk shop #copia x reader

45 notes · View notes