#(besides probably being used in sound effects in the thing)

[tearlessrain]

please help me- i used to be pretty smart but i’m having so much trouble grasping the concept of diegetic vs non-diegetic bdsm!

gfkjldghfd okay first of all I'm sorry for the confusion, if you're not finding anything on the phrase it's because I made it up and absolutely nobody but me ever uses it, but I haven't found a better way to express what I'm trying to say so I keep using it. but now you've given me an excuse to ramble on about some shit that is only relevant to me and my deeply inefficient way of talking and by god I'm going to take it.

SO. the way diegetic and non-diegetic are normally used is to talk about music and sound design in movies/tv shows. in case you aren't familiar with that concept, here's a rundown:

diegetic sound is sound that happens within the world of the movie/show and can be acknowledged by the characters, like a song playing on the stereo during a driving scene, or sung on stage in Phantom of the Opera. it's also most other sounds that happen in a movie, like the sounds of traffic in a city scene, or a thunderclap, or a marching band passing by. or one of the three stock horse sounds they use in every movie with a horse in it even though horses don't really vocalize much in real life, but that's beside the point, the horse is supposed to be actually making that noise within the movie's world and the characters can hear it whinnying.

non-diegetic sound is any sound that doesn't exist in the world of the movie/show and can't be perceived by the characters. this includes things like laugh tracks and most soundtrack music. when Duel of Fates plays in Star Wars during the lightsaber fight for dramatic effect, that's non-diegetic. it exists to the audience, but the characters don't know their fight is being backed by sick ass music and, sadly, can't hear it.

the lines can get blurry between the two, you've probably seen the film trope where the clearly non-diegetic music in the title sequence fades out to the same music, now diegetic and playing from the character's car stereo. and then there are things like Phantom of the Opera as mentioned above, where the soundtrack is also part of the plot, but Phantom of the Opera does also have segments of non-diegetic music: the Phantom probably does not have an entire orchestra and some guy with an electric guitar hiding down in his sewer just waiting for someone to break into song, but both of those show up in the songs they sing down there.

now, on to how I apply this to bdsm in fiction.

if I'm referring to diegetic bdsm what I mean is that the bdsm is acknowledged for what it is in-world. the characters themselves are roleplaying whatever scenarios their scenes involve and are operating with knowledge of real life rules/safety practices. if there's cnc depicted, it will be apparent at some point, usually right away, that both characters actually are fully consenting and it's all just a planned scene, and you'll often see on-screen negotiation and aftercare, and elements of the story may involve the kink community wherever the characters are. Love and Leashes is a great example of this, 50 Shades and Bonding are terrible examples of this, but they all feature characters that know they're doing bdsm and are intentional about it.

if I'm talking about non-diegetic bdsm, I'm referring to a story that portrays certain kinks without the direct acknowledgement that the characters are doing bdsm. this would be something like Captive Prince, or Phantom of the Opera again, or the vast majority of bodice ripper type stories where an innocent woman is kidnapped by a pirate king or something and totally doesn't want to be ravished but then it turns out he's so cool and sexy and good at ravishing that she decides she's into it and becomes his pirate consort or whatever it is that happens at the end of those books. the characters don't know they're playing out a cnc or D/s fantasy, and in-universe it's often straight up noncon or dubcon rather than cnc at all. the thing about entirely non-diegetic bdsm is that it's almost always Problematic™ in some way if you're not willing to meet the story where it's at, but as long as you're not judging it by the standards of diegetic bdsm, it's just providing the reader the same thing that a partner in a scene would: the illusion of whatever risk or taboo floats your boat, sometimes to extremes that can't be replicated in real life due to safety, practicality, physics, the law, vampires not being real, etc. it's consensual by default because it's already pretend; the characters are vehicles for the story and not actually people who can be hurt, and the reader chose to pick up the book and is aware that nothing in it is real, so it's all good.

this difference is where people tend to get hung up in the discourse, from what I've observed. which is why I started using this phrasing, because I think it's very crucial to be able to differentiate which one you're talking about if you try to have a conversation with someone about the portrayal of bdsm in media. it would also, frankly, be useful for tagging, because sometimes when you're in the mood for non-diegetic bodice ripper shit you'd call the police over in real life, it can get really annoying to read paragraphs of negotiation and check-ins that break the illusion of the scene and so on, and the opposite can be jarring too.

it's very possible to blur these together the same way Phantom of the Opera blurs its diegetic and non-diegetic music as well. this leaves you even more open to being misunderstood by people reading in bad faith, but it can also be really fun to play with. @not-poignant writes fantastic fanfic, novels, and original serials on ao3 that pull this off really well, if you're okay with some dark shit in your fiction I would highly recommend their work. some of it does get really fucking dark in places though, just like. be advised. read the tags and all that.

but yeah, spontaneous writer plug aside, that's what I mean.

#I found their original stuff while I was researching various waterhorses and their folklore for no reason #because one of the characters in their original work happens to be an each uisge #and then it turned out it ALSO included a lot of figures from welsh folklore in general #so yknow if you happen to have my incredibly specific hyperfixations you'll love it but even if you don't it's great #I didn't mean to bring up phantom of the opera so much it just happens to be very relevant to a lot of my talking points #I haven't actually seen it in years

[waitimcomingtoo]

How Do I Get You Alone? 2

Pairing: Peter Parker X Stark!Reader

Synopsis: you and Peter can’t seem to communicate effectively after the kiss

Part one

Masterlist

“Honey, can you get that? It’s Peter.” Tony asked you when FRIDAY alerted you that someone was waiting in the lobby.

“And you want me to bring him up? Why can’t you do it?” You panicked over the thought of being alone with Peter after your last conversation.

“Because I’m the belle of the ball and the belle does not bring her own guests up from the lobby. She has other people do it for her. Plus, I don’t want Peter to see my outfit until he’s up here.” Tony explained as he adjusted his tie.

“You’re such a diva. And why do you also make yourself a girl in these scenarios?” You asked as you went over to the elevator.

“Don’t call me that!” Tony called after you. You rolled your eyes and took the elevator down to the lobby. Peter had been nervously fiddling with his shirt and did a double take when you stepped off the elevator. You smiled weakly at him and smoothed down your dress.

“Oh. Hi.” Peter said as his face reddened.

“Hi. Sorry, my dad asked me to come get you.”

“You don’t have to apologize.”

“Oh. Right.” You smiled tightly. “Well, come on in. Dinners almost ready.”

“What did your dad make?” Peter asked as you stepped into the elevator.

“Well, my dad hasn’t “made” anything since he found out there weren’t real raspberries in raspberry toaster strudels. But our chef made gnocchi.”

“Fuck yes.” Peter whispered to himself.

“What was that?”

“I said that sounds delicious.” He lied. You rode up in silence for a minute as you watched him. He was keeping his eyes on the ground and you could tell he wasn’t thrilled that you were with him.

“Look, Peter, I know you’re upset about the way our conversation went the other day and I really want a chance to explain myself.” You said as you stepped in front of him.

“You don’t have to explain anything. I understand.” Peter said calmly.

“You do?”

“Yeah. The kiss was a heat of the moment thing and you just want to forget it happened. And I am totally okay with that.” Peter said and forced a smile. It wasn’t actually how he felt, just something he had told himself to say to avoid anymore crushing disappointment or awkwardness.

“You’re okay with that? With pretending it never happened?” You asked and felt the same level of disappointment Peter had felt.

“Yeah.” Peter lied. “Why wouldn’t I be? I won’t hold you to anything you did during a high pressure situation. I think we both want to move on and pretend it never happened. So let’s just forget about it.”

“If that’s what you want.” You nodded stiffly and stepped to the side so that you could hide how disappointed you felt over hearing him say that.

“If that’s what you want.” Peter shrugged and suddenly felt unsure of his plan. He was no longer confident that he correctly guessed how you wanted to proceed.

“Is that what you want?” Peter asked quietly after a beat of silence. Before you could answer, the elevator doors opened to the dinning room.

“Peter’s here!” Tony cheered. “Come in, come in. Sit down. I hope you’re hungry.”

“Always.” Peter’s smiled graciously as he sat in the seat beside Tony.

“Aw. I know, kid. Times are hard.” Tony said sympathetically and patted Peter’s hand.

“Oh, no, not like that. I eat enough food at home.” Peter assured him.

“Aw, yes you do.“ Tony cooed and patted his hand again. Meanwhile, you were about to take the seat next to Morgan when Pepper sat down. Now the only empty chair was the one next to Peter and you were not about to make this dinner anymore awkward than it already was. Peter made eye contact with you and gave you a sympathic smile.

“Oh. Sorry, mom. I was gonna sit next to Morgan and help her eat.” You said and gestured for her to move.

“I can use a fork all by myself now.” Morgan said proudly and held up a spoon.

“That’s a spoon. I should probably just pull up a chair next to her.” You said and went to go grab another chair.

“Honey, just sit next to Peter.” Pepper said and gestured to the only open seat.

“Okay. I will. But not because I want to.” You announced as you took the seat.

“Sweetheart. Manners.” Pepper whispered to you. You took the seat next to Peter and avoided eye contact.

“I’m not being rude.” You defended. “I’m just saying that I’m only sitting next to Peter because I have no other option.”

“Have you two been spending time together? Because that’s 100% something Peter would say.” Tony laughed in amusement as you and Peter panicked.

“What? Spending time together? That’s crazy. Why would we do that?” Peter sputtered out while you nodded in agreement.

“But you went to Peter’s apartment a few weeks ago, right Y/n? You told me that when I asked you why you kept changing your clothes.” Morgan asked you.

“So you remember that but can’t remember not to put both legs in the same pant leg?” You sassed her.

“Woah. The girls are fighting. It’s okay, Morgan. Pants are confusing.” Pepper assured her youngest daughter.

“Oh, so is that why you were bugging me for his address for days? You wanted to visit?” Tony asked you, making you hang your head in defeat.

“For days, huh? You must’ve really wanted to find me.“ Peter smiled in amusement as he looked over at you.

“Oh, yeah. It was all she could talk about after the earthquake. She was begging me to find your addresses but all I could remember about it was that it was an old brick building with a very strange doorman. And that describes most apartment buildings in your neck of the woods. She eventually gave up on me and had FRIDAY track your suit down. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think she was trying to find you so she could go kill you.” Tony shrugged and took a bite of his pasta.

“And you didn’t try to stop her?” Peter asked him.

“I like to let my daughters express themselves however they choose.” Tony answered. “But why did you need to go to his apartment, anyway, sweet pea?”

“Because I wanted to talk to him but we never exchanged numbers so I had to drop in like it was the 1950s.” You said and hoped that would stop the conversation there.

“You never exchanged numbers? That’s not good. What if you needed to contact each other for an emergency?” Pepper pointed out.

“Yeah. You should do that right now.” Tony agreed and gestured between the two of you.

“Dad, I’m not giving him my number. We’re eating dinner. We can do it later.” You grumbled. Peter couldn’t help but smirk at seeing the brattier side of you.

“What if we forget? Come on. Just exchange now. I’ll feel better knowing you guys can reach each other in case of an emergency.”

“Fine. Here.” You sighed and handed over your phone to Peter.

“What’s with the animosity?”Tony wondered. “I thought you guys finally liked each other after the earthquake?”

“Like each other? We do not like each other. That’s ridiculous.” You insisted as Peter turned bright red.

“You don’t?”Tony frowned. “But you went on and on about how Peter protected you during the earthquake. And Happy said that you asked him to tell you anytime Peter called with updates.”

“You asked Happy to tell you if I called?” Peter couldn’t help but smile as he asked you.

“I just wanted to know if you were okay.” You asked quietly.

“I’ve been fine.”Peter shrugged. “There hasn’t been another earthquake or anything.”

“Oh, no. She asked Happy for that long before the earthquake. It was a couple months ago, right princess?” Tony asked you. You glared at him and wondered if he was doing this on purpose.

“Why would you ask Happy for updates on me months ago?” Peter asked with genuine confusion now.

“I don’t know, Peter. I don’t have all the answers. I’m not Bing.”

“Ew. Who uses Bing?” Tony grimaced.

“I do. Excuse me. I’ll be right back.” You said and abruptly left the table. Everyone exchanged looks but shrugged it off and went back to eating. Peter pushed his food around with his fork for a minute before excusing himself and going after you. He found you in your room, a place he had never been in before. You were sitting on your bed and hugging a pillow to your chest as you stared at the ground. Peter knocked on the doorframe and you jumped.

“Hey. I thought you might want this.” Peter said and held up your phone.

“Oh. Thanks.” You said sheepishly and held out your hand for him to give it back.

“No problem. You got a text, by the way.” Peter said with a smirk. You looked at him curiously before reading the text on your screen.

“How are things going with lover boy?” You read out loud with zero amusement in your voice. You looked up at Peter with an annoyed look and he just shrugged.

“That’s not about you.” You scoffed.

“Oh, it’s not? Is there a different lover boy coming over that I should know about?” Peter asked sarcastically and pointed behind him.

“No. Because you don’t need to know anything about me.” You snapped and got off your bed.

“I don’t know why you’re pissed at me. I don’t think I did anything wrong here. You’re the one who kissed me.” Peter pointed out, growing angry now.

“I know I was. And I’m so sorry because I can tell how much you hated it.” You said sarcastically.

“I hated it?” Peter laughed in shock. “You’re the one who said it didn’t mean anything to you. But don’t worry, I didn’t tell anyone about it. I know how much it meant to you that no one found out.”

“Peter, I don’t care if you told your weirdo little friend about our kiss.” You whined. “I only said that so you didn’t tell Happy or my dad or something.”

“Why would I tell your dad that we kissed?”

“You told my dad when your six piece chicken nugget had eight pieces.”

“But how would that have happened? They don’t sell eight piece nuggets. It’s either four, six, or ten. There is no eight nugget option.”

“Someone probably just put a few extra in your box on accident.”

“You sound just like your dad.” Peter mumbled.

“Can we please just get through this dinner and move on with our lives?” You sighed.

“Yes. That’s fine. I know how badly you want the dinner to end so that you never have to see me again.” Peter said with a roll of his eyes.

“When did I ever say I didn’t want to see you anymore?” You asked in exasperation.

“You’ve made it pretty clear.”

“Why are you so mad at me? What did I even do to you?” You genuinely asked him.

“You kissed me!” Peter shouted and pointed to himself. You fell silent for a moment at how desperate he sounded but then fired back.

“You kissed me back.” You pointed out.

“It’s not the same.” Peter shook his head and quieted down. “That’s not the same.”

“How is that not the same?” You shrugged and folded your arms.

“Because I liked you!” Peter raised his voice again. Your eyebrows went up in surprise as he retreated into himself.

“I liked you for years and you finally kissed me and then didn’t want to talk about it. You asked me to forget it ever happened.” Peter said quietly.

“But you’re the one who said it forget about it. You’re the one who said it was just a heat of the moment thing. You’re the one who said we should pretend it never happened. I never said any of that.” You said in a soft voice. Peter looked up at you and replayed the conversation in his head. When he realized you were absolutely right, he felt guilty for yelling at you.

“Well….yes.” He said weakly. You were both silent for a long time as neither of you knew what to say. You had been avoiding eye contact with each other until you stepped closer to him.

“You liked me?” You asked him.

“Yeah. I did.” Peter shrugged and looked into your eyes. He knew there was no point in taking it back now.

“Did?” You asked in a sad voice. “Did” meant that he no longer felt that way. Before Peter could answer you, Tony appeared in the doorway.

“Hey, are you guys gonna be eating dessert because Morgan’s been eying your cake and I honestly can’t promise it’ll be there when we go back. That girl is a beast.” Tony blew out a breath. You and Peter looked at each other for a split second before looking away.

“No. I’m gonna head out early.” Peter answered. “Thank you for the dinner, Mr. Stark. It was lovely.”

“Oh, I didn’t make it.” Tony laughed. “I haven’t made anything in months. Did you know that the raspberry in raspberry toaster strudels isn’t real?”

“Goodnight, Mr. Stark.” Peter smiled weakly at him and headed for the door.

“Night, kid. Tell your yummy aunt I said hi.” Tony called after him. You let out a sigh once Peter had left and sat back down on your bed.

“What do you think about Peter?” Tony asked now that Peter was gone.

“What? I don’t think about him.” You scoffed. “I wouldn’t care even if he broke all his legs and arms and had to wear a full body cast.”

Tony let out a little chuckle and shook his head when he heard this.

“What?” You wondered.

“Nothing. I just realized why I sought Peter out to add him to the team despite him having 0 experience and almost no discernible skills outside of being sticky.”

“Why?”

“He reminds me of my daughter.” Tony said with a fond smile. You couldn’t help but smile as well and nod your head.

“Daddy…” You began and trailed off. Tony took a seat beside you and patted your hand.

“I know, kid. I know.” Tony said with a sympathetic smile.

“Was it obvious?” You asked sheepishly.

“Yes. Neither of you are good at hiding things.” Tony replied. “Also, I watched the security footage in the lab from the day of the earthquake. I’m not sure how watching him wolf down baby carrots didn’t give you the ick.”

“I don’t know either. But it was just one kiss. It didn’t mean anything. And it’s never going to happen again. I’m pretty sure he hates me now.” You sighed and looked down at your hands.

“I don’t know about that. Did you know that every time he calls to update Happy about what he’s been up to, he asks about how you’re doing?” Tony asked you.

“He does?”

“Oh, yeah.” Tony nodded. “I wouldn’t worry about him hating you. But you do need to tell him how you feel. Annoying little nerds are all over this city, but ones like him are rare.”

“And you’ll be okay with it?” You asked skeptically.

“With you having a conversation with him, yes. But if a romance begins to bud and or blossom, I’m gonna have to have a word with him.” Tony informed you.

“Fair enough. I love you, dad.” You smiled and rested your head on his shoulder.

“Love you too, kid.” Tony replied. “Now let’s go eat some cake that someone else made.

A few days after the dinner, Peter returned to the tower and went straight to the robotics lab to continue working on something for his suit. He put his earbuds in and played his music so loudly that he never heard you come in. He only noticed you when you waved your hand in front of his face to get his attention. He burned bright pink as he pulled his earbuds out.

“Oh, hi. Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in. Here for another inspection?”

“No.” You said simply and Peter blushed a little at the implication that you were there to see him. You gave him an apologetic smile and he returned it to show that you weren’t there for another fight. You walked over to his side of the table and put one of his earbuds in your ears.

“What are you listening to?” You asked him.

“Oh, uh, just some indie song I found.” Peter shrugged. You pressed play on his phone and One Less Lonely Girl by Justin Bieber began to play in your ears.

“Oh. Yeah. Very indie.” You smirked and took the earbud out.

“His old stuff was really good.” Peter mumbled.

“Oh, I know. I still listen to “Somebody To Love” all the time.”

“Did you need something? Because I don’t think you came in here to talk about Justin Bieber.”

“I did, actually.”

“Oh.” Peter’s smiled dropped when he heard how serious you sounded.

“I’m kidding. Sorry. I meant to sound sarcastic but it came out really genuine.” You smiled in embarrassment.

“It’s okay. I hear thats a symptom of Bieber fever.” Peter said seriously, making you laugh.

“So, I wanted to talk about the other day. All three of ther days, actually. But it seems like you and I can’t have moments without getting interrupted.”

“Just like that girl in that Ben Afleck movie.” Peter said with a weak smile.

“What Ben Alfeck movie?”

“Girl, Interrupted.” Peter answered.

“Ben Afleck isn’t in that. Are you thinking of Gone Girl?”

“Are we gonna talk about the kiss or what?” Peter asked to change the subject.

“Yes.” You blew out a breath. “We are.”

Peter nodded and gestured to you to go first. You sighed and looked him in the eyes.

“When I came over the other day, I had a lot more to say then just asking you not to tell anyone. And the only reason I didn’t want you to tell anyone was because I didn’t want it getting back to my dad until we knew what we were. I didn’t know at that point if the kiss was a one time thing or if we were gonna be something more. I just wanted it to stay between us until I knew for sure where we stood. And I was going to tell you that I wanted to figure it out together and see where things went. But then I panicked and felt too embarrassed to explain all of that and then you looked so sad so I felt bad but then you made that joke about the seaplane and I could tell you onyl said it to make me feel better about making you feel bad so then I felt even worse and then your little friend came over and kept talking about TJ Maxx and I just had to get out of there.” You said all in one breath.

“Woah. That was the most amount of words you ever said to me at once.” Peter blinked in surprise.

“I know.”You laughed lightly. “And I’m not even done yet, believe it or not.”

“Go on. Before another natural disaster happens or a person walks in. And I honestly don’t know which would be worse.”

“Look, Peter, I never meant to make it seem like the kiss meant nothing to me. It did mean something. You mean something. I would not have kissed you if it didn’t mean anything to me.” You told him.

“So it wasn’t just a kiss just because you thought you were gonna die and needed some comfort and the only source around was your dad’s weird child friend?” He asked for reassurance.

“I did think I was gonna die.” You admitted. “I just didn’t want to die without ever getting the chance to kiss you. Which is something I had been wanting to do for a while.”

“It is?” Peter asked as you took a step closer to him and rested your hands on his chest.

“I don’t open up to people a lot. I don’t like letting my guard down. And I definitely don’t like having mushy feelings for some dumb boy that my dad found on YouTube a couple years ago.”

“Aw.” Peter said sarcastically.

“But I liked you. I have for a while.” You admitted. “And I didn’t think I could be the cool, collected, stoic bosses daughter if I had some schoolgirl crush. So I pushed it down and acted cold towards you while secretly wondering what your lips felt like.”

“And how did they feel?” Peter asked with a shy smile.

“Incredibly moisturized to the point they were almost slippery and I’m pretty sure whatever lipbalm you use has glitter in it because it was all over my face afterwards.”

“You’re welcome.” Peter smirked.

“And I’m sorry about the fight too. I had no idea how to act around you after the kiss and I kept making things worse.”

“No, the fight was my fault. I assumed you regretted the kiss and wanted to forget about it but never actually asked how you felt. I put words in your mouth and then got mad at you for them. I was just feeling emo that after all these years of pinning after you, we had a kiss that led to nothing.”

“It doesn’t have to lead to nothing.” You smiled coyly as you wrapped your arms around his torso. Peter took that as his cue to lean in and kiss you without the threat of a natural disaster looking over your heads. He couldn’t help but smile into the kiss as he put his hands on his face to pull you closer. When you pulled away, you rubbed your lips together to try to decipher the flavor of his lip balm.

“Cherry?” You asked him.

“Cherry Blossom Bliss.” He corrected. “The tube is pink and it’s shaped like lipstick.”

“I thought so.” You chuckled.

“So, what does this mean for us? Are we still keeping it a secret or should I call my seaplane guy back?” Peter asked you.

“I want to give us a try. I mean, we survived an earthquake together. I think we can survive telling my dad that we’re dating.”

“I think so too.” He grinned and leaned in to kiss you again.

“Wouldn’t it be funny if there was a tornado right now?” He asked once you pulled away. You threw your hands up in defeat and left the lab entirely.

“Come on.”Peter called after you. “It would be a little funny.”

Tag List 🏷️

@thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling

@tom-hollands-wifey

@whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings

@imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101

@peterparkoure

@justcallmehitgirl @jackiehollanderr

@emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland

@sovereignparker @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @eridanuswave​ ​

@solarxmoonchild @canyouevencauseicant

@quaksonhehe @lovelessdagger

@thesuitelifeofafangirl @marshxx @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie

@maybemona

@alexxcorona113 @lethal-wisdom

@pandaxnienke

 @officialsimppage @itsemohours @preeyansha

@freakofmusic25 @tomholland85

@olixerwxxd @leilanixx

@whereismytelephone @so-very-asleep @white-wolf1940

@spideyspeaches @hihiweezing

@dhtomholland @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @prancerrparkerr

@hallecarey1 @adayasgeorgia @blackwidowisthebest @imawhoreforu

@ciarahollands

@nellabellaa @pinklxmonade @boogywoogywoogy

#peter parker x stark!reader #peter parker x stark!daughter #peter parker x reader #peter parker angst #peter parker x you #peter parker imagine #peter parker x y/n #peter parker fanfiction #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland fluff #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x y/n

[leigh-kay]

Phone Calls || Ethan Landry

warnings// overused gf phonecall smut plot, you all mad at me for cutting it short probably, she touches herself and he watches lol, ethan being a menace, degradation <3

She was alone when the phone rang, watching her favorite show. She was biting into a piece of the watermelon she'd grabbed in the kitchen when it startled her into dropping it.

"Hello?" she huffed, picking up the piece from her comforter.

"Hello y/n," the rasp was unmistakable to her ears.

Reagrdless, her eyes rolled, "Turn that stupid thing off. You made me drop my watermelon you jerk."

He sighed on the other end of the line, cutting the voice changer, "You know I thought it'd be funny-"

"To call me using your serial killer persona voice? Ha. I find it hilarious."

"You said it was hot when I showed up covered in blood ," she could hear his pout.

Switching to speaker phone, she sat the phone on the pillow beside her, "It was. Hell even the voice effect is... something. But your voice is my favorite."

She continued to eat her fruit, smiling at the sound of his silence at the end of the line.

He never knew how to take compliments. His flustered behavior gave her an idea. Why not push his limits?

"You sound pretty all the time but I love when you whisper in my ear. Or when you get all grumpy and assertive and sound all... aggressive."

He can tell what she's up to, and it has the opposite effect she'd imagined. Rather than turn bashful, he cuts straight to the very tone she'd talked about.

"Is that so, baby?"

"Mhm," she smiles, though he can't see her.

"Now that I think about it... you do fall apart so easily with just a few words," he's tempting with his words, "dont you pretty?"

The fruit is moved to her bed side table as she readjusts in her sheets, "The words you choose to say play a part too you know."

"Yeah? Like what?"

Heat floods her body as she thinks of all the different things he says. When she's on top of him. When she's pinned beneath him. How he begs when he's in her mouth.

"When you call me yours."

"And don't forget it. What else?"

She can feel her panties as they catch the heat pouring out of her.

"How you say my name when you.." she trails off, eyes shut.

"When I what baby?"

A sigh rushes out of her, "when you're inside of me."

"You just love when I fuck you, don't you?"

Her fingers trail to the line of her shorts, inching them down, "You know I do."

He could hear the slight whine in her voice, "Are you touching yourself?"

She gave no answer as her fingers run through her slit.

"Answer me slut."

She rolled her eyes.

"Yes mr. psycho killer," she snorted.

"Don't roll your eyes at me baby," his voice was less angry and more teasing, "now you're gonna do what I say, yeah?"

She'd come to the conclusion that he was watching her. Which also led her to believe that if she did as she was told, he'd fuck her the way she really wanted. Deal.

"Yes sir," she smiled, eyes wandering to the window at the far side of the room. She imagined he'd be sitting there, up in the tree beside it, watching her.

"Good. Now, play with that pretty pussy just like I would hm?"

She didn't need to be told twice. Slow circles across her clit made bumps break on her skin. She could feel her temperature rising as she grew needier with the teasing touches she granted herself.

"Look at you, teasing yourself just like I would. I bet you wish it was me though," she could hear the pride in his voice and while it annoyed her, orgasms trumped annoyance any day.

She took a breath, "Ethan please."

"Please what baby?"

"Just come in and touch me," she tried to keep her composure, "I'll do anything."

"Make yourself come and we'll talk about me touching you."

She groaned in frustration, "feels so much better when its you though!"

He laughed in a breath, "I know it does. But i want to watch you."

She knew he'd get what he wanted. He always did with that smile and those stupid fucking brown eyes of his. Disagreements were nonexistent the moment he made her look at him and shes pissed at the fact just picturing him is enough to make her more agreeable.

Regardless, her fingers slip into her cunt as she mumbles his name, dragging through her in a quick speed.

"Faster, angel," he demands.

"Please," she moans, "keep talking baby, please"

"God you're a whore. Touching yourself to my voice?"

Fucking hell.

Her eyes squeeze shut as he continues, "Such a pretty whore though hm? My pretty whore."

She nodded, curling her fingers in just the right way to make her whine.

"Sound so needy too, can't fucking wait to touch you honey."

She curses as she falls apart, crying his name and within seconds her closet door is thrown open.

A scream fills her room as he steps into the light.

"Fuck you!" she huffs, shooting daggers into the man ten feet away.

"You knew I was watching," he grins, making his eay towards her before crawling ontop of her.

"You know you say my name so pretty when you come?" he teases.

She finds her eyes rolling again as she glares up at him, "You said you'd fuck me if I listened."

He laughs, fingers stroking the column of her neck as he takes her lips on his own. She was perfect for him. So needy and so fucking mean. He loved it. He loved her.

Her fingers find home in his hair as she wraps her legs around his waist, dragging him closer into her.

The hand beside her head is supporting him as his free hand locks on her waist, holding her to the mattress beneath them.

As she gives a particularly sharp tug to his hair, he gasps into the kiss, hand rushing to her throat. As he sinks his fingertips into the flesh of her neck, she grins into the kiss hes pressing to her lips, "Harder."

He fights the laugh in his throat as she stares up at him, "You're in no place to make demands."

Before she can utter another word, he's squeezing tighter and letting his mouth cover the space across her chest, enjoying the way her body reacts to every move he makes. The way her back arched and her hips would roll against nothing gave him a pride he'd never had before her. She gave him a lot of things he'd never had before.

"I think," he began to drag his hand over her still dripping pussy, "I want a taste."

Her body shivered at the contact as he got between her legs. She could feel that she was insanely wet, but his commentary on it made her body burn with embarassment.

"You get so wet for me," he grinned, pressing his lips along the insides of her thighs.

Her hands attach to his shoulders as his mouth connects with her clit, tongue immediately rolling over it in slow motions. As her hips rose from the bed, his hands locked around her waist, forcing them down.

Her head fell back as his fingers slipped inside of her. She knew she was in for a long fucking night.

#smut #ethan landry smut #ethan landry #scream smut #scream 6 #ghostface #scream

[kyokikia]

Could I request Sanji x reader who like him in the sense that he is a hopeless romantic. Like the reader is so flirty and clingy, and the moment they meet its love at first sight.

I would do anything for you.

Pairings ; Vinsmoke Sanji × gn!reader

Type, fluff, romantic, love at first sight trope

Warnings, y/n is used a couple times, really really corny

Life recently has been so fun for you, since you joined the straw hat pirates. Even if the way you got asked to join was rather unorthodox, you were nonetheless thankful. When you joined, everyone was so nice, and there was one particular person who caught your eye, way more than the others.

That person turned out to be Vinsmoke Sanji, the cook of the crew. From his personality all the way to the way he cooked, you loved. Ever since you joined, Sanji has been overwhelming you with his chivalrous ways, and you loved every moment. And ever since you joined, Sanji had his eye on you as well, more than he had for any other girl before. The two of you honestly thought it was love at first sight in your own minds.

Sanji was so nice to you, always cooking you good food, always helping you out if you needed something, he always gave you attention and company, and other things. You heard from Nami and Robin that Sanji was also like that to them, but to a much lower degree, and you took that as a sign.

You loved being around Sanji, and you two honestly got extremely close very fast. The both of you were always around each other, and if you weren't, you at least knew where the other was. You loved to watch him cook, the way he was able to perfectly cook the recipe, his down bad personality, his voice and laughter, and most of all, you loved how easily he got flustered.

The times when he tried so hard to fluster you, in all honesty it worked, it got you to blush, but when you would flirt with him back, and he became 10x more flustered than you, were some of your favorite times on the ship so far. You knew the effect you had on him, and you also knew how much he affected you as well.

The hugs you gave him, the slight hand-touching, the smiles all got him so in love with you, and you were just as obsessed with him as he was with you. Everyone could see that you both were so madly in love with each other, but for some reason, Sanji couldn't.

He was such a silly and clueless lovesick boy, and you really did try your hardest to make it clear to him that you loved him back, without actually having to say it out loud, but it seemed like he couldn't get the hint.

As of this moment, you were just chilling with Sanji while sitting on the ship deck, conversing with him as you had laid with your head on his lap, a small tint of red on both of your faces, before he tried excusing himself saying, "Love? i have to go cook dinner now" The sound of the pet name was like music to your ears, you often called each other petnames, more often that you called the other by their real name actually.

You didn't want to stop, but you chose to get up from his lap and reply with, "well, can I at least help you?" You watched as his eyes softened, he wanted to spend more time with you as well, but he didn't want you doing any work.

"Mon chéri, you know i don't want you doing any work, why not just bless me with your company, yea?" He answered your question with a soft smile, as you gave him a small pout before agreeing with a, "yea yea" as you both headed for the kitchen.

You watched as he gathered the necessary ingredients for the meal, with you fetching him some of the ingredients as well. You sat in silence as you watched his skillful hands prepare the meal, before you chose to get up and stand beside him, "Sanji?" You called out for him, as he started looking at you in slight suspicion, wondering what you wanted to say as it was probably serious and it wasn't often you said his actual name rather than a petname. He still loved the way his name sounded whenever you called out for him without a pet name, down bad behavior at its finest.

"Yes, mon amour?" He answered back, turning to look at you instead of the uncooked ingredients. You took a deep breath, before quietly declaring,

"You know I love you more than anything else, right?"

As those words rolled off your tongue, his eyes widened, blood rushing to his face, his cheeks turning to a similar yet much more obvious red than your own face. You looked him dead in the eyes, as his mind blanked at the sudden love confession. He knew he gave a lot to you, but he never really got one from you. And it was just some random Sunday.

"You mean that?" He asked lowly, not really believing in this moment. You gave him back a small "mhm" as you smiled at him, watching him register what you just said in disbelief.

"I love you too." Was all he could whisper back, him staring right into your eyes as a really big smile crept up on his face.

You gave him a big hug, with him hugging you back as he really took in your confession, "thank you for loving me back, my dearest Sanji." You whispered to him as you faced him, hands now on his shoulders so you could look at him.

"No no, thank you, love for loving a person like me!" He exclaimed back to you, now that your words fully reached his brain, before he gave you a kiss on the lips, with you quickly kissing him back. Pulling away from the kiss, he softly says to you, "I've loved you, from the start mon chéri!"

You smile even more as he said those words, "I've loved you since we first met as well, Sanji."

Okay so, this one was longer than the last one! I really hope you enjoyed it <3 and I also hope i was able to fulfill the request nicely!! This is really really corny

#kyokikia #sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji #sanji x you #one piece x reader #one piece imagines #one piece imagine #sanji imagine #one piece x you #op x reader #one piece oneshots #gn reader #one piece x gn reader #one piece

[so-long-soldier-writes]

One of Those Days

poly!mikaelsons x reader | request

summary: between the constant fighting and city clamor, you're overstimulated from the minute you wake up. you try to isolate until you feel better, but sometimes, that only makes things worse. luckily, your loving vampire partners are always there for you.

tags: sensory issues, mental health, overstimulation, arguing, mild emotional hurt / comfort

word count: ~2.6k

a/n: requested by @asexualaromosafezone - i am SO SORRY this took me literal months to complete. a couple days ago, i suddenly remembered i never filled it and finished it asap. i hope you like it, and again, so many apologies!

Sometimes, you wake up, and can immediately tell it’ll be a hard day. The sun has barely risen, yet there’s already a million noises coming through your window. Chatters of people having their morning walks, car horns from those too impatient to let them cross, the distant clang of a dropped pot, and-

“REBEKAHHH!”

-Klaus, yelling for his sister. At seven in the morning. 

“What the bloody hell are you shouting for?! I’m right here!”

You sigh, glad that mystery solved quickly.

There’s probably a few more minutes until your alarm rings, so instead of getting up a little earlier, you opt to enjoy your last minutes of peace. Though you soon realize that’s impossible, given your circumstances. On top of the city sounds, there’s a bird right outside your window, and when you try to turn away from it, the tag on your blanket itches the inside of your thigh. 

“Ugh!” You toss the blanket off. 

Your alarm sounds not a second later. 

With a slap to your phone and then another to your forehead, you decide to just get ready for the day. Luckily, not much is planned. Marcel still has control over the city, and with you being human, your Mikaelson hosts don’t want you outside at all. 

See, you live with the family of original vampires. You used to be a Mystic Falls’ resident, but then after developing a close connection with the siblings, decided to move to New Orleans with them and get a fresh start. You were tired of the small town life, and while the big city can be overwhelming at times, you’ll never get sick of the culture it has to offer. Besides, living with the most powerful family makes you happier than you ever believed you could be. 

As much as you love them, though, they can be a pain. Like when Klaus can’t find his sister, but forgets a whisper would summon her just as effectively. Instead, he has to wake up the whole quarter, and inconvenience you with a headache. When you reach the dining room that day, you slump your head on the table. 

“Everything alright, darling?” Kol’s voice floats over your head, making you aware of his presence. 

“Tired.”

“Is your bed comfortable enough? Do you need more blankets?”

You haven’t been in the city long, and his consideration warms your heart. 

“Oh, I’m okay. I’m very comfy. Just haven’t gotten used to the city yet.”

“Ah, I understand.”

His attention drifts to his sister. You busy yourself with a plate of food and ignore how tired you feel. When Elijah sits beside you, you offer a smile, but don’t say anything. The man, polite as ever, does the same. Though while two of the siblings are quiet, the other two aren’t. Klaus and Rebekah are still on the same topic from earlier. They bounce off each other quickly, childish banter turning into an argument.

You try to eat in peace and ignore them, but it’s difficult. And it doesn’t help that you’ve been feeling down lately, anyway. It’s rather unexplainable, the way you feel. Some days you’d rather stay in bed all day than face the world. Your whole body could be begging for you to get up and get things done, but you just can’t. No matter how hard you fight your own mind, sometimes there’s no winning the raging war. 

To make matters worse, you’re always hypersensitive when you find yourself in these low moods. Every little thing is overstimulating and there’s no pause button. This morning, you didn’t even get a chance to wake up before the sounds started. (Thanks, Klaus.) You roll your eyes in your head, annoyed. 

“Hey.” A poke to your shoulder startles you, making you jump. “You okay?” 

“Ooh, you caught me off guard.”

“Sorry,” Kol smiles, “you in deep thought, or rolling your eyes at Klaus’ statement?”

“Uh…” You bite your lip. You were rolling your eyes about Klaus, but missed whatever statement it was that he just made. “What did he say?”

“That he was on his way to have a little chat with Marcel. That will go swimmingly.”

“Oh.” You snort and decide to joke. “Both.”

Kol grins at you, but then, thankfully, leaves you alone again. 

After breakfast, you retreat back into your room, not in the mood to face the day. If Klaus is really going to start shit with Marcel, it’ll be an intense day. You’ve never met the current king of the French Quarter, but Elijah’s told stories. Marcel and the family used to be close, but then, like all their other relationships, ties ended drastically. 

“But not with you, of course,” he had promised. “You’re our girl.”

You were skeptical for a moment. Who wouldn’t be, knowing the Mikaelsons? But then Klaus approached you from behind with a kiss to your hair and confirmed his brother’s words,

“As long as we have your loyalty, you’ll always have ours.”

You could see the truth in his statement. Everyone who ended up on their bad side had betrayed them in some way. So, as long as you didn’t repeat others’ mistakes; as long as you kept your trust in the family, you would be considered family. And ever since the day you first grew close, you have been their family. 

You’re close with all of the siblings. Elijah, first, when you couldn’t take your eyes off him at Damon’s dinner party. Then Rebekah, and then Kol, when he undaggered. Even Finn, before his untimely death - thanks to Matt, your good friend now worst enemy. Klaus took the longest to trust you, and you can’t blame him for having trust issues, but once he realized how much his siblings adored you, he was quick to accept your place with them. 

Now, the five of you live together, nine hundred miles from your hometown. It’s certainly a change, but every day with them is an adventure.

Like today, you suddenly think, overhearing Elijah’s footsteps in the hallway. Today has definitely been one of those days. 

“Y/N?” He stops outside your door.

“Mhm?”

“Can I come in?”

“Sure.”

Elijah opens the door, but doesn’t fully enter your room. He looks you up and down before smiling. “I just thought you seemed sad earlier and wanted to check on you. Is everything okay?”

“Oh!” You put on a brave face to mask the tiredness you feel internally. “Yeah, I’m just out of sorts today. It’s nothing.”

“Are you sure? Because if someone’s bothering you, that’s something we can take care of.”

“No, no, I promise. It’s all just me. Just having a day.”

“You’re positive?” He asks for confirmation again.

“Have I ever lied to you, ‘Lijah?”

He looks down at his shoes, embarrassed. “No, you haven’t. I apologize for doubting you.”

“It’s okay,” you step closer to him, resting against the door frame. “No need to apologize. But I swear, I just… woke up on the wrong side of the bed or something. New Orleans is a loud city. I’m still adjusting.”

“Okay. Well, call if you need anything. Even the smallest thing.”

“I will.”

“Oh, and be careful in the off-chance that Marcel storms in here. There’s a fight brewing in the quarter.”

“I’ll keep an eye out.”

“Better yet, stay inside for the day. So you’re not in harm’s way at all.”

“Okay, ‘Lijah.”

He smiles at you, then kisses your hand. “Now, I need to neutralize my brother. But I needed to make sure our girl was okay first.”

“She’s okay. Go deal with him.”

Elijah straightens his collar before speeding off to no doubt defend his brother in a fight. You love Klaus, but man, does he get angry. And then from anger, comes pure rage, then absolute chaos. Once situations escalate that far, the whole block better hide if they want to keep their hearts in their chest. 

You sigh, thinking of the carnage that may come. You’re not sure you can deal with his anger issues today, especially not coupled with those of Marcel. Of all the days they have to fight, it’s the one that you might snap, too, if he raises his voice one more time. 

Suddenly, your bed looks like the perfect oasis away from the mess behind your door. A good pillow over the ears might prevent an impending meltdown. You crawl into it at once and let your body melt into the mattress. 

You hadn’t lied to Elijah, though you hadn’t given him the full truth, either. Yes, you are, in general, okay. Not necessarily today, but at that moment, you were. Also yes, you’re not feeling great today, partly because of all the city noise. And, finally, yes, most of it is just you and your body not in the mood to be awake. Though Klaus is contributing, just a little bit, to your mental distress today. Elijah would understand, of course, but then he’d have a talk with his brother about it, and you really didn’t want to burden either of them in that way, so you put on a smile and didn’t mention it. You’d bet Elijah knows the full truth, and knows why you won’t admit it, but he respects you if you don’t want to talk about it. That’s one of the reasons you love him so much. 

You get a couple hours of rest until your slumber is interrupted by a new knock on your door. It’s not soft, like Elijah’s, so it must be one of the younger two. 

“Oh no,” you mutter, wondering what it must be now.

“Y/N?” Rebekah’s voice comes from the other side. “Are you awake?”

“I am now.” 

She opens the door as you reply. “Oh what the bloody hell are you still doing in bed?”

“Sleeping.”

“Obviously! Come watch a movie with Kol and I! We’d love your company.”

“An actual movie, or the public display of violence happening outside in the quarter?”

“We haven’t decided yet!” She grabs your hand. “Come on!”

You yawn. “I’m gonna pass today, I’m not up for it.”

“Awh, Y/N! It won’t be as fun without you!”

“I have a headache, Bex,” you fib. 

“Do you want some blood for that?”

“Does that even work like that?”

She shrugs, “not sure.”

You cuddle into your pillow. “Another time, okay?”

The girl smiles, then leans forward to kiss your head. “Okay. If you change your mind, come find us.”

“I will. Thank you.”

“Dinner’s at seven. Will you be there?”

“Yeah,” you promise, “I should be better by then.”

You are not, in fact, better by then. If anything, your foul mood progressed into an actual headache within thirty minutes of Rebekah leaving. Shouts throughout the city managed to penetrate the thin glass of your windows, and you could hear almost everything as Klaus heckled the current king. For hours, it went on, until the sun went down and they assumedly put it off for another day. By seven o’clock, you were able to sneak in another nap, but you still felt way overstimulated from the day’s events. 

Not to mention the fact that you spent all day in bed. Sometimes, you’re overstimulated by too much going on, but today you partly did it to yourself by hiding away all day. The guilt of avoiding everyone weighs on your chest. Rebekah had invited you to a movie; Elijah went out of his way to check up on you, and you had more or less dismissed them both. A bitter taste sits in your mouth when you think about it. Water doesn’t wash it out.

Hopefully dinner will. 

For the first ten minutes, the night passes peacefully. Most of the conversation is focused between the meal and the movie the two had watched. The events of the day, seemingly, are left in the past.

But then, of course, Kol has to make a comment on something he overheard that he thought was funny. And that set Klaus off into a spewing of anger. He’s pissed at Marcel, but now, also, at Kol for bringing it up. Elijah puts his face in his hands, and Rebekah sends both a huge eye roll. 

What was a moment of much-appreciated silence is now a yelling match. After five minutes, you reach your breaking point. 

“Why do you feel the need to comment on that, Kol? It was so insignificant, but you’ve felt the need to bring it up, and now I’m reminded of how much Marcel has done to piss me off!”

“I didn’t mean to make you upset, bloody hell! I thought it was funny!”

“It wasn’t funny to me when he was spitting in my face! I-”

“Oh my god! Are you ever not arguing?!” You suddenly shout. 

The table goes silent and all eyes are on you. A needle could be dropped and it would be heard across the quarter. 

“I’m sorry,” you apologize quickly, embarrassed.

“Love,” Elijah puts a hand on your shoulder, “are you alright?”

At his touch, you flinch. He retracts his hand quickly, but doesn’t move his body away from its proximity to yours. 

Klaus, although upset at the interruption, notices this and calms a little. “Everything okay, Y/N?”

“I’m fine. It’s nothing.”

“That little outburst didn’t sound like nothing.”

“I’m just stressed.”

“Darling, what’s got you all upset? Tell us and we’ll sort it out now.”

“It’s no one, Kol, I’m just not feeling well.”

“Still have a headache, sweetheart?” Rebekah asks. 

“You have a headache?” Klaus butts in. 

The assortment of questions makes you drop your head. It nearly hits the table, but Elijah grabs your frame before you can fall. Tears form in your eyes, visibly. 

“I’m just really overstimulated today. I woke up weird and this city is loud, and then there was all the fighting all day long, and then I hid in my room all day, but then I felt bad about hiding, and now I’m making you all worried because I can’t get my shit under control!”

“And that’s your fault, how?” Elijah asks, “you cannot blame yourself for the way you feel.”

“But I need to handle my emotions better. I’m sorry.”

“No apologies necessary, love,” Klaus adds, “I certainly haven’t helped, fighting with children all day.”

“Niklaus,” Elijah warns, but Klaus doesn’t argue with him this time. 

“I should’ve stayed with you when you said you had a headache.”

“Don’t blame yourself either, Bex. It’s not your fault.”

“But we could’ve cuddled,” she frowns.

“It’s okay. I got a nap, and it helped a little. I just need to get used to my life being different now. None of you are at fault.”

“Nor are you,” the eldest reminds, “it’s been quite a day for us all.”

Kol clears his throat, “say, after dinner, if you feel up to it, we could all watch a movie and cuddle around you? I think some comfort is much needed.”

“Sure,” you agree, “but I might fall asleep during it.”

“That’s quite alright,” he smiles. He then stands up to hug you, but when his arms wrap around your neck, you freeze.

“Not yet, please. I’m still a bit stressed.”

He gives you a wink. “Of course, darling. Let me know when you’re ready.”

Klaus flicks his napkin across the table. He’s folded it into the shape of a heart. “We love you. You know that, right?”

You take the heart, kiss it, and put it in your pocket. “I do. I love you all, too. Thanks for understanding.”

#poly!mikaelsons x reader #poly!mikaelsons #elijah mikaelson x reader #kol mikaelson x reader #rebekah mikealson x reader #klaus mikaelson x reader #tw mental health #i feel so bad for taking so long on this

[thatone-brightstar]

ohhhhh bestie The Bear & The Fox got me GOOD, more please!!!

The Bear & The Fox (Carmy Berzatto x Fem!Reader)

Chapter 2: Like a fox caught in the headlights

Words: 5.7k

Summary: After four weeks at The Beef, you've learnt some valuable lessons. Finding Carmy adorable is the most dangerous one.

a/n: Because I am nothing if not a people pleaser, here's the second chapter for that one person that asked lol Enjoooy xx

P.S. Reader is Latina in this, so there will be some spanish lessons.

After a full four weeks at The Beef, you had realized a couple of valuable lessons. Subs and sandwiches were not the same, and Richie had a very strong opinion about the “uncultured jackasses” that confused them, Tina was nicer than everyone gave her credit for (though it probably helped that both your mother and her had gone to the same high school together) and lastly; Carmy being a decent person would be more counter effective than you anticipated. Especially when you learned that your building was about four blocks away from his and that he drove Richie’s car, because the other had his license suspended for parking on a handicap spot while buying cigs.

It had been completely accidental and not at all your intention, but on your sixth day after closing and when your idiot brother had forgotten to pick you up, you naively thought it would be fine to walk thirty three minutes to get home. The L was not an option as the last time you had taken it, someone stole your access card and it would take at least a month to get a new one. So you and your uncomfortable platform sneakers were stuck for at least another half hour until you could make it home. Or so you thought.

Ten minutes after leaving The Beef, with your jacket zipped all the way up to avoid the harsh late March wind, you had fallen into a comfortable pace. You’d normally wear your headphones to tune out the city sounds, but it was almost 11pm and the fear of getting jumped was enough to keep you alerted of your surroundings. The last thing you needed right now was a shiv to the throat. However, for a Sunday night, the streets were livelier than you had expected. People congregated outside bars and the family owned pizzerias that remained open past midnight to feed the night owls, stoners and drunks. You admired the checkered table cloths they used and added the image to the folder in your mind under ‘shit to make the beef less sad’ as you made your way down the blocks.

As you reached the crosswalk and waited for your turn, a dusty black car slowed its pace then stopped fully beside you. You brazed yourself for the usual catcalls or hollering while you kept your head forward, though the sweaty hand around your strap gave another impression.

“Hey!” You heard from the car once the window was down and you did your best to hold your tongue and not tell the asshole to just fuck right off, but when you heard him call your name, this time you turned surprised.

Carmy sat staring up at you through the cracked window, right hand already pushing the passenger door open and waiting for you to get in. There was a slight frown on his brow as you stood motionless looking at him because he was the last person you expected to see and also holy fuck, did that blue jacket bring out the already magnificent color in his eyes. The sound of a horn blaring from behind you brought you back from the ridiculous turn your thoughts were taking and you cleared your throat climbing into the warm vehicle. He sat staring at your profile as you took your bag off and placed it between your feet on the car floor, then pushed your hair behind both ears to clear your face and smile towards him.

A small ‘Hey’ was thrown in his direction and the warmth in your skin subsided once his gaze was no longer resting on you.

“You weren’t planning on walking, were you?” He asked, concerned.

“Would it be so bad if I say yes?” You ask back a bit ashamed. “It’s not that far.” you try to justify, playing with your fingers.

He asked you where you lived and when you told him the location, the car stopped in its tracks almost comically, although it would have been if he hadn’t stared at you with such a bewildered expression.

“That’s like an hour by foot!” He scolded, putting the car back in motion and merging successfully into the main road.

“No, it's like.. thirty minutes at most!” You fought back. “Besides, it’s not like I do it daily, my fucking brother just forgot to pick me up tonight.”

“Your brother the carrot?” He asked, now smiling softly.

A breathy almost giggle left your mouth as you turned to him. “Yeah, the carrot.”

That’s when he told you that it was fine if you ever needed a ride back because he lived in the same area anyway. ‘You can ask for help, you know’ He said, ‘It’s better than putting yourself in danger’. And you could have just left it at that, your boss being a decent human being. But the warmth of the car, the lowness of his voice and the sweet humming of a folk song playing in the radio, had your head swimming with scenarios that grew too quickly for you to stop them, even though you knew you had to.

He dropped you at the door of your building with a ‘Goodnight.’ and ‘Sleep well’, and as you climbed every step towards the fifth floor, you were reminded of the unspoken rule you had with yourself: No in-work relationships. No dating coworkers. No messing around.

No matter how funny, how nice, how hot or how lost you could get in the pool in their eyes.

That’s how your routine came to be. At least until Richie got his license back, which you secretly hoped was not anytime soon. You’d finish closing up front, take your bag from the office and wait for Carmy out back until he was done scrubbing clean every surface of the stainless steel kitchen. Sometimes you’d wait inside too, disguising it behind wanting to  keep him company but in actuality you were just afraid someone would creep on you from the dark while alone outside. The car ride would consist of meaningless chatter on music, movies and on who won the prize to “Shitty customer of the day”, and on your way up home you’d repeat the same mantra for each step. As many times as it took for your beating heart to slow and for your skin to cool down before reaching your door.

***********

Carmy hated to admit it, even to himself, but it was evident from afar how accustomed he had become to your presence, enough that it affected him on your day off. It was ridiculous really, how off his game he was. Calling out wrong orders, oversalting the broth and even burning his hand with a metal handle he had forgotten over the fire. Tina snickered when she heard a ‘Fuck!’ behind her, followed by the clinging of metal falling to the ground.

“You good, Jeff?” She asked teasingly, looking over her shoulder at the chef running his hand under the faucet. “She’ll be back tomorrow, you know?”

He didn’t answer, he knew better than to do so because everything in that place could be used against him. She was right though, you’d be back tomorrow, you always were. On your first day off after being hired, he had spent the whole day doubting if you would be back the next, thinking about having to put the help wanted sign up again made his already unstable stomach worse. Then you showed up unexpectedly during the small break with a box of pastries you had made as a thank you for the team, each decorated with little edible flowers and colorful glossy coats. He had secretly snapped a picture of his, before biting into the heated crust, his stomach had welcomed the delicious warmth of food for the first time all day and the feeling followed him around during the rest of his shift.

On your third day off, you had brought your mother for dinner on a slow night. Your cheeks had gone up in flames when she let him know just how much you talked about the mouthwatering food served at The Beef and the wonderful people working there, before yelling something in spanish to Tina and leaving you both alone in comfortable silence.

“So you think our food’s delicious?” He asked with a teasing smile and bumping his shoulder against yours.  You stood side by side while watching the two older women catch up in the kitchen like a sort of family reunion. Carmy normally didn’t let strangers into his kitchen, he was protective like that, but strangely for you, he was glad to make an exception.

“Of course I do!” you said with an embarrassed laugh. “You’re a great cook, chef,” You said sincerely and his eyes shone brighter than ever under the fluorescent lights. “You’re just too busy noticing your own faults to see it.”

Your mother had called for you and a part of him was glad she did, because he did not know how he would have resisted leaning down into your soft lips after such a beautiful confession. They didn’t charge for dinner, and no matter who you tried to give the bill to, no one would take it. ‘Orders from the boss’ they’d say grinning, and when you turned to the office, you saw a messy head of golden hair hide behind the door frame.

Now on your fifth day off, he wondered if you’d show up. He allowed himself a bit of delusion as he ran his injured hand under the tap, and imagined you arriving in one of those flared high waisted jeans you liked to wear. He stared at his hand and thought of what it would feel like to caress your cheek with it, your soft skin against his calloused one, doe eyes staring lovingly up at his as he held you closely between his arms… Fuck, okay,no this is weird, he thought. He should not be thinking of you like this and if they had anything similar to an HR department, this would definitely be a violation of some sort. And that’s not even talking about the wild scenarios his mind would make up late at night when he couldn’t get any sleep.

Even though it was just in his mind and no one else could see inside his little fucked up brain, it was still wrong. Especially when he knew you couldn’t feel the same. You were just being nice, he’d remind himself. That’s who you were. And he was being a pervert and a terrible boss by assuming otherwise. He had to get his shit right and his priorities straight, saving the fucking Beef from ruin was the first. He had to leave his stupid lovesick scenarios for when he could finally give his tired body a rest.

He pulled himself out from the rubble of his thoughts, turned the water off and dried his hands on the white rag hanging from his surprisingly clean apron. Then he made his way back to the station and continued on dinner prep with the usual automated performance he had trained so hard to cultivate. This he knew, this was familiar and precise and gave no space for errors or misinterpretations. This was his. Him. No doubt, insecurity or fear of reciprocation. A vegetable was still a vegetable no matter how he felt towards it, and he still had to be your superior no matter how he felt towards you.

************

“I don’t know which one to get!” You hummed through the phone resting between your shoulder and cheek as your hands were busy comparing the very similar fabrics in front of you.

You hear Sydney groan exasperated through the line and you can clearly picture her rolling her eyes at you.

“Just pick whichever! It’s not like anyone will notice the difference anyway.” She answered, and you can hear a light buzz of noise from her side. 

“I’ll notice.” You mumbled back.

In your defense and to your well color-trained eye, they were very different. While the design was the same, checkered style pattern with white, they both had negative spaces of different shades of blue, one slightly darker than the other. You were leaning towards the softer baby blue, but it wasn’t the right shade. It was the third craft store you visited and none seemed to carry the specific type of blue you were in search for. It was a stretch because you were sure that shade’s only purpose was to exist between tired eyelids and golden lashes, but you were too stubborn and you had to at least try to find something similar. 

“I’m sure people will just be happy to not eat directly on the plastic tables. Bring the one you like best.” Syd said after a moment of silence.

“Ugh, I guess.” You finished, finally deciding on the baby blue material.

You walked around the art supply section and picked out the things you were there for originally, a few tubes of oil paints, paint sealant, a detailing brush and a new spatula were what you checked from your list. It wasn’t your intention to buy more than that, but the sight of the shiny fabric at the end of the aisle had you dialing Syd’s number and asking if she thought Carmy would mind if you bought things for the restaurant with your own  money. You were planning to anyway, but the reassurance was nice. ‘Anything that comes from you is okay with him’ she had said and a fuzzy feeling bloomed in your chest.

“We’re still on for drinks later, right?” She asked while you scanned everything through the self checkout.

“Yeah, I’m just gonna drop all this shit off today, go home and change and meet you outside after closing.” You mentally groaned at all the back and forth you’d have to do but it was better than carrying everything home then back to The Beef the next day. 

Also, you had secretly taken a liking to dropping by unexpectedly to “say hi”. You were never the kind of person to go to your place of work on your off day, you never understood those people because, why be there six days of the week then go back on your off when you could literally go anywhere else? But The Beef had felt more like a home than a job ever had for you. It was warm and inviting, and you understood why there were so many regulars who still bought their daily sandwich after so many years. It felt nice to work for a place that was more for the people than the prestige. It was a breath of fresh air in a world surrounded by how ridiculous you could make a dish and still have it be considered food.

“You sure it’s not just cause you wanna see a certain broody someone?” Syd asked teasingly, pulling you from your thoughts.

You stayed silent on the line and that was enough of a confirmation for Sydney to burst into laughter from the other side.

You spat a ‘Shut up.’ and hung up on her mid laugh, cheeks ablaze.

After leaving the store, you walked the fifteen minutes to The Beef with your headphones on and carrying your bag of supplies in blissful peace. You liked days like these, the sun shining softly through the clouds, the air fresh and crisp and your heart light in your chest. The beat of the music coordinated with your steps on the sidewalk as you made your way through the industrial looking streets, letting your mind roam to its recent favorite topic of wild messy hair and freckle dusted skin. Syd’s words were still fresh in your mind, but also was the rule you had been repeating to yourself more than usual. 

Each time he did something nice, you had to convince yourself that that’s just the way he was and to stop reading into something that wasn’t there. Every time you caught him looking was justified by him just spacing out and you being in the general direction of his gaze. The free dinner was him being kind, the rides home were him being decent and the sweet smiles as you crossed the kitchen towards the steward section were… Your doom, honestly. 

Every time you made your way across with empty plates, even if it was only for a brief second, he snuck a peek from his bowed position over the expo, then smiled loosely back down. The first time you had caught his stare, you had carelessly dropped the dishes on Angel and into the muddy water then rushed out the back door because the space around you had become insufferably hot. The image had replayed like a broken record all day, rewinding in the exact moment his ocean eyes bore into yours like waves crashing against a rocky coast. It was criminal. And you would take to your grave how the memory had fueled the fire in your lower belly on the nights when you couldn’t get any sleep. Just remembering brought back the familiar ache between your thighs and you quickened your steps to relieve the sensation. Fucking hell, had it really been that long? It probably had been because you couldn’t remember the last time you got laid, or even been kissed for that matter. No wonder  you were so wound up over a simple look. 

‘That's it’, you thought. ‘I’m just hormonal and it’s causing my stupid brain to confuse horniness with like. Nothing more’  So on the last block to The Beef you made up your mind: you were going to find a stranger to sleep with that night, then this whole Carmy situation would die down and you would see it with clear eyes for what it really was, Carmy just existing and you being a pervert for misinterpreting anything he did.

You took a deep breath as you pushed the glass door to find an empty restaurant and you assumed everyone was taking a well needed break in the back before the dinner rush. You pulled your headphones off and made your way into the familiar hallway that led from the front, past the walk in and into the office. Your plan was to drop the bag off and head right out, you'd see everyone after closing anyway, but just as you left everything by the foot of the crowded desk and turned to leave, a tall shadow standing by the door made you jump back startled.

“Jesus fuck, Carmy!” You yelled at him with a hand against your thumping chest. He stared at you with a contained smile and it was hard not to smile back. “Was that payback?!” You asked, still trying to control your breathing.

“For what?” He asked innocently and entered the small office space. In the reduced area, his broad shoulders looked bigger and the thumping in your ears was no longer from the fright. “What's that?” He asked, pointing to the bag you had discarded on the ground.

“Oh, um…” God, why are you so nervous? “It's just some stuff I got for the front. Tablecloths and napkins and… stuff.” You answered by playing with your hands. You didn’t want him to be upset even though Syd had assured you it would be fine.

He crouched down towards the bag and rummaged around inspecting the insides.

“I was planning on putting it on the tables in the dining area… I hope that’s okay?” You added after what felt like minutes of silence.

“No, that- that’s really nice of you. Thank you, chef.” He said, looking up at you.” You bought this with your own cash?”

“Yeah.. but it’s no problem, truly. I just really fuckin’ hate those Starbucks napkins.” You joked and he sniggered while straightening up.

He scanned you with amused brows and for the first time all day you felt self conscious of your choice in clothing, or lack of choice. 

You had been home all day working on a panting in the makeshift studio you had created in your living room. Your grandfather had helped you set up an easel and some drawers near the windows with the most natural lighting as a fun hobby at sixteen, and almost ten years later, the space had become a sort of sanctuary during stressing times or just when you needed to clear your head. Half the house was now covered with your creations, mostly paintings, but also a few sculptures from that time you tried to experiment with clay and almost blew up your mother’s oven. 

That morning, you had been working on a piece centered around a stormy sea and a boat adrift, headphones on and too far gone into your own head, when you realized you had squeezed out the last drop of teal paint from the little tube. You could have just mixed and matched until the shade was correct, but your back protested when you finally unhooked your left leg from under you and that was a loud enough sign that you needed to move from the uncomfortable wooden stool you had spent hours on. So without changing from the paint covered overalls, cliche sure but cute, you thought, you pulled your sneakers on then kissed your grandpa goodbye and closed the door behind you.

Now as you stood in front of Carmy, a baggy mess of dried colors, trying to rack your brain for an explanation, you noticed just how bad of an idea it had been. You felt like a kindergartener’s discarded art project, and fuck’s sake, the two space buns at the bottom of your neck were certainly not helping. You scratched the back of your head nervously, trying to avoid his teasing gaze, then rested your hand flat on the desk to turn fully towards him.

“I was painting, okay?” You mumbled and for a second you felt like a kid getting caught doing something bad. It also didn’t help that he was older than you and a dark part of your screwed up brain searched for his approval.

“I would hope so.” He answered between a breathy laugh.

It was an involuntary move from his part, down right impertinent. Something he would never do in a million years, especially to a woman while they stood alone in a closed space with less than a foot between their chests. But his hand was already half way up when he realized what his body was doing, his gaze too caught on the light strip of cyan paint above your brow to realize how your breath had gotten stuck in your throat and your pupils had swallowed your irises whole. His cold fingers feathered away the slight bangs that framed your face and as his skin made contact with yours for the very first time since you met, an electrified chill ran from the base of your neck, down through every nerve ending exposed to the air and causing bumps to rise along your skin. It was completely innocent, but the contrast in temperature, combined with the close proximity and the emotions you had tried to sweep under the rug, had your heart in a whirlpool dropping down to the depths of your stomach. The bubble of air in your throat didn’t know whether to go up or down, so you simply stayed still as he gently rubbed his forefinger against your temple. Your mouth felt dry and your eyebrows were screwed together in a mixture of angst and anticipation. You felt like a fox caught in the headlights, treading carefully around the hunter. 

Your eyes drooped mindlessly to his parted lips and the voice in the back of your head whispered how easy it would be to stand on your toes and close the small distance separating you. The hand resting on the desk had curled around the edge and you knew your knuckles had turned white from the force of your grip. It felt like time had stopped altogether, only your echoing heartbeat was the telltale of the seconds passed. You dragged your eyes slowly back up his features until they stuck to the warm icy blue and you could feel his thumb unconsciously rubbing slow circles.

‘It would be so easy.’ you both thought. 

His face was a whisper away, yet it felt like a dessert separated you from the only body of water you wanted to desperately bathe in. Just one swim wouldn’t hurt, right? No one would know it happened. A one and done situation. ‘Just to get you out my system.’ you thought. Or rather whispered.

“What?” Carmy mumbled confused.

Fuck. 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You pulled back, blinking rapidly to control the panic beginning to bubble in your veins. Fuck! You tried to settle your eyes anywhere except on him while you struggled to decipher what the actual hell you were going to let happen. From your peripheral vision, you could tell he was also disoriented by the way he pulled his hand down his face, stopping to cup his mouth with strength as if not trusting what could come out of it.

“I-I” Your voice sounded foreign, barely above a whisper. “I’m gonna go…um-” You swallowed the bubble of air and wrapped your arms around yourself with your eyes trained on the ground, trying to pass by Carmy without touching, as if the simple contact could sting your already sensitive skin.

He reached his hand towards you and called your name. “No- shit, wait I-”

“Hi, mija!” You heard and both of you instantly turned to where Tina stood by the door to the walk in.

She made her way to you and you tried your best to swallow the batch of tick saliva that comes before the bile and smiled. You pulled her into a hug and kissed her left cheek out of tradition.

“Hey, just came to drop off some things.” You spoke as nonchalantly as one can when you’re on the verge of a breakdown.

“Good, then you can save me the trip and give your mom this.” She said while handing you a small roll of five dollar bills. “It’s for the tanda. Tell her my number’s up next week, eh?” She caressed your cheek softly then turned to Carmy with a doubtful look. “You look like you saw a ghost.”

“I’ll give it to her.” You interrupted and threw the money without care inside your tote bag, turned to Carmy one last time, then marched through the hallway and out the glass door.

You didn’t stop until you knew you were at a distance safe enough to crash. You leaned against the bricks of a nearby flower shop and closed your eyes because, even though you had never fainted before, this felt very much how people describe it could feel. Your whole head was on the edge of explosion along with your ribcage and throat. Your mouth was dry and wet at the same time, and the simple feeling of saliva on your tongue was enough to have you gagging with your forehead against the wall.

“Okay, get your shit together.” You whispered to yourself between heavy sniffles. 

Breathe. Hold. Release. Again. Breathe. Hold. Release. Again. With as much strength as you could manage, you pulled on the long sleeves of your shirt and wiped the trail of salty water beginning to slide past your cheeks. Breathe. The last thing you needed was to have a panic attack in the middle of the street, so even as your vision blurred at the edges and your chest heaved from the lack of air, you did your best to hail a cab. With the first strike of luck in the past ten minutes, a yellow car pulled by your side and you wasted no time in getting in. With little control left, you told him your address and as he drove in the direction of your house, the grimy restaurant street sign grew smaller in the rear view mirror and the single thread that kept your fumbling heart together finally tore. 

You arrived home in a numbed state, your body felt drained after going through so many emotions in a short period of time and you were glad everyone was out because how could you explain the absolute shitshow you had stupidly put yourself through the last hour? You dragged your feet across the wooden floor of the hallway that led into the living room, dropped your bag over the island in the kitchen and headed straight into your bedroom. As soon as the soft fabric of the covers wrapped around you like a protective cocoon, the dam in your chest broke open and a nasty sob left your lips.

God, how could you ruin this so catastrophically?! How were you going to show your face at work after this? You could just imagine Carmy telling everyone how you had come onto him in his office and a new wave of tears rushed to your eyes. The first job you actually liked in years and you ruin it by almost kissing your fucking boss! ‘What the hell is wrong with me?!’ 

‘In our defense, he came onto us first’, the voice in your head tried to rationalize. 

The intimate clip played back in your mind’s eye from a third’s perspective, like a movie scene you’ve watched a thousand times in the past half hour. ‘It can’t be completely my fault, right?’ You ask yourself, analyzing his expression through your memories. It had to mean something, you don’t just look at anyone like that.

“Fuck!” You yelled exasperated and rubbed the palm of your hands against your tired eyes.

You pulled your phone from your pocket and opened up Syd’s contact on the message app, ready to write an excuse as to why you needed to cancel. But as your fingers hovered over the keyboard, a part of your brain wondered if you really wanted to. It would make no use to brood in your own self pity for the rest of the day, and maybe the therapeutic process of getting ready to go out would help clear your head and let you see the situation in a better light. Also, you still had a plan to see through and after the day’s events, your skin had been left itching for contact, no matter where it came from.

So instead of canceling, you texted Sydney that you’d meet them at the bar instead, then spent the next ten minutes looking for a playlist that would inspire you for as long as your ritual would last.

**********

The hellscape of a day was finally over and Carmy had never been more grateful. After the last order had been served, he retreated into the office without a word to anyone and had been sitting staring at the same spot since. Thankfully no one knew what had him in such a distasteful mood and he was sure as hell that it was going to stay that way. They didn’t need to know how he had scared you away with his impulsive actions or that he was to blame if you stopped showing up without explanation. The team had barely started to respect him and knowing that he had borderline harassed everyone’s favorite waitress would have him catching a punch or two.

‘Just to get you out my system.’ 

Your voice repeated like an echo bouncing off the walls in his skull as he tried to make sense of the words, but no matter how many times he flipped them around and rearranged them, he still didn't know what they meant. Was he in your system? Was he really so dense, that he hadn’t noticed you felt something for him, or was he reading too much into an inexistent situation?

His fingers tingled at the memory of your soft warm skin against them, the way your eyebrows had knit together while you stared at him with the most wide eyes he had ever seen and how you had unconsciously parted your lips when your eyes flickered towards his. Fuck, he really was an idiot. You were probably the first woman he had looked at with such adoration and he had to go and screw it up with his lack of control and stupidness.

He layed back in his chair and ran his cold hands through his hair, eyes trained on the dimly lit ceiling above him. An exasperated breath left his chest and he closed his eyes, scanning his brain for a solution to what should be the least of his worries in an office surrounded by expired bills and accounts that made zero sense. ‘What’s one more thing to worry about, right?’ He breathed out a laugh.

He heard a knock from the slightly opened door and turned to see Marcus staring down at him.

“Yo, chef?”

“Yo” He answered back.

“We’re all done with housekeeping’. Some of us are gonna go grab drinks and we wanna know if you wanna hang.” He stayed silent for a second. “You kinda look like you had a shitty day.” He sniggered.

He could always trust Marcus to tell the truth.

Carmy suppressed a laugh and leaned into his desk, taking a pen in his hand and playing with it. “Nah, thanks chef. I’m gonna catch up on some stuff here. You have fun though.”

Marcus nodded slowly, looking around the desk until his eyes landed on the bag of fabric laying on the ground. “Bet.” He said then smiled slowly. “She’s gonna be there. Jus’ so y’know.” And with a pat on the doorframe, he signaled his exit.

He leaned against his chair again and stared at the space Marcus had stood in, contemplating his options. If he went, there was a high possibility you didn’t wanna see him. But this could also be his only chance to get things cleared out and maybe convince you to not quit because of his actions. Granted, a bar was not the place to talk and definitely not his scene, but if that’s what he had to do to convince you to stay then so be it. He took a couple calming breaths to ease his heart at the idea of possibly even telling you how he felt, if you were gonna leave, might as well take the info with you, right? It’s not rejection if you were already gonna split.

“Fuck it.” He threw the pen at the mess of papers and the old chair creaked as he stood forcefully, then pulled his jacket from the back along with his keys from their hook by the entrance and followed the rowdy chanting of his youngest employees walking in a line out the busted back door and into the night.

Chapter 3.

#carmen berzatto x reader #the bear & the fox #carmen berzatto x you #the bear fx #carmy berzatto #carmy the bear #carmy x reader #carmy smut #the bear tv #carmy berzatto headcanon #the bear headcanon #carmy berzatto imagines #carmy berzatto fluff #carmen berzatto smut #carmy berzatto smut #carmen 'carmy' berzatto #carmy x poc reader

[ultrone]

𓂃  ⊹ jackielot dating deaf!reader 🧏🏻‍♀️

they've been putting in a lot of effort to learn sign language for you. lottie even convinced her parents to hire a private tutor. initially, you thought it was unnecessary, as you could teach them yourself. however, they insisted, wanting to learn it faster and properly.

whenever they learn a new phrase or word, they eagerly rush to you to show you. and it’s painfully obvious how jackie subtly directs your conversations to "casually" drop the new sign she's learned 😭😭 you think it's cute though, so you refrain from teasing her about it.

besides sign language, the three of you have developed a silent language to communicate more effectively. it includes gentle taps, specific gestures, or a certain number of squeezes. it's become so intuitive that even your girlfriends use these signals between themselves, sometimes even when you're not around, without realizing it.

they're having a bit too much fun with the sign language tho, especially during exams. "i'm not helping you cheat, jackie," you discreetly signed back at her, being cautious so the teacher wouldn't notice. jackie pouted at you but couldn't hide her silly smile.

they’re also practically forcing the other yellowjackets to learn it as well. while some of them are lazier or barely friends with you, they've managed to get all of them to learn at least ten basic words to communicate with you, even if it's just to say hi.

so far, shauna is the most advanced, likely because she spends a lot of time with jackie. you suspect your girlfriend probably put up a fight to ensure shauna learned this much. nevertheless, you're grateful because now you can have intermediate conversations with her, and you have to admit that sometimes it's nice to sign with someone other than your girlfriends.

jackie's love language is physical touch, which makes her incredibly content in your relationship. you often depend on her touch or gestures for communication when you can't rely on lip-reading or hand signals, and jackie is more than happy to comply.

on the other hand, lottie leans more towards words of affirmation, but this hasn't posed any challenges in your relationship. she consistently expresses her affection through little notes and messages, even jotting down love notes and doodles in your school notebooks.

once, you woke up and found your hearing aids were not on your bedside table. turning to jackie, who was peacefully sleeping next to you, you noticed them sitting on her bedside table instead. that's weird, you thought, not recalling leaving them there. as you picked them up, you realized jackie had adorned them with cute little stickers.

they’re very patient with you, never getting annoyed or frustrated when you ask them to say things again or speak more clearly for you to read their lips.

when watching a movie together, they always ensure the subtitles are on, so you don't have to strain to read everyone's lips all the time.

jackie has this habit of telling you that she loves you by tracing the letters "I L Y" in the palm of your hand with her index finger, giving you a soft kiss afterwards and fidgeting with your fingers.

lottie always keeps her arms protectively around you, whether it's draped over your shoulders or wrapped around your waist. when she wants to get your attention, she softly squeezes her hand around you.

when you're feeling stressed, she often soothes you by gently stroking your eyebrows with her fingers in a repetitive motion until you drift off to sleep.

they're frequently curious about your perspective and thoughts on certain things, recognizing that your experiences might differ from theirs. they often ask you how you imagine certain things would sound, sometimes out of genuine curiosity and other times playfully teasing you.

“who do you think has a sexier voice? and don’t lie just so that lotts doesn’t get upset,” jackie quipped as lottie rolled her eyes.

they're incredibly protective of you, never allowing anyone to mock or disrespect you in any way. not that anyone dares to, considering their popularity in school as members of the yellowjackets.

most of the time, you fall asleep by lying on top of either one of them, resting against their chest, or in any position that lets you lay your ear against their heart, so you can feel its steady beat.

they're constantly debating whose turn it is to cuddle you. so now, they take turns each night. while you lie on one's chest, the other cuddles you from behind, letting you feel her gentle heartbeat against your back.

#𓏲 📂 ⋮ my works .ᐟ #jackie taylor x reader #jackie taylor x you #jackie taylor x y/n #lottie matthews x reader #lottie matthews x you #lottie matthews x y/n #yellowjackets headcanons #yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets x y/n #yellowjackets x you #lottie matthews headcanons #jackie taylor headcanons

[phantomtwitch]

For angstfest! I'm a little late, but here's one for a No One Knows AU.

They’re already moving as soon as he’s gone. 

Tucker grabs Danny’s legs while Sam picks up Danny beneath his arms and shoulders. He’s long past the point of being embarrassed about Sam being stronger than him, and they have to move fast as they drag Danny’s body into an empty classroom nearby. He mutters curses under his breath as the heavy classroom door bounces off his side, and Sam huffs and rolls her eyes. “Drama queen,” she accuses, and he sticks his tongue out at her as they carry Danny’s body the rest of the way inside and the door shuts with a too-loud slam behind them. 

But they’re not worried about the noise attracting attention. Most of the students are staying within their own classrooms, ignoring whatever odd sounds they might hear as the ghost alarm goes off in the background. The harsh, blinking lights cast odd shadows on Danny’s face, making Tucker queasy for a minute as they prop his body up against the wall below the whiteboard. 

“How long?” he asks, panting heavily and trying to catch his breath. 

“Two minutes and forty-five seconds,” she says with a grin as she sits down next to him. “Pretty sure that’s a new record.”

“Nah, we did it in two minutes and thirty-eight seconds last month, remember?” he says as he sits down beside her and starts to unpack his backpack. The defibrillator is buried at the bottom, tucked beneath his things. It’s the smallest one they could find that’s still effective, even if they’re not exactly using it for its intended purpose, and Sam carries another just in case. For a normal person, it wouldn’t be possible to restart their heart and lungs with an electric shock, despite what the movies claim, but for Danny? Electricity is the only thing that works, the only thing that will bind his spirit back to his corpse as it infuses and activates the ectoplasm flooding his blood stream. 

The Fentons could no doubt provide a scientific explanation as to why and how it works, but to Tucker, it’s an odd kind of magic, of horrifying necromancy as they forcibly, painfully force the electricity to run through him again, so similar to the accident that caused this problem in the first place. It’s only by chance that they know it works, having tried the defibrillator hanging on the lab wall in the basement after he came out of the portal and his body fell to the ground as his ghost hovered over it in shock. He didn’t give it much thought the first time. Tucker merely assumed the movies were right and that they restarted Danny’s heart. It wasn’t until later that they learned the truth. 

With practiced ease he pulls Danny’s old NASA t-shirt off, and then scowls as he notices that Danny’s wearing a new necklace with a constellation on it that Tucker probably should know the name of after being Danny’s friend for so many years but doesn’t. “Great. More stuff to take off. Wonder who gave it to him,” he grumbles, twisting it around in his fingers until he finds the clasp and removes it. He checks him over for any more metal and finds none. “How long now?” 

“Four minutes,” says Sam, and he nods. They worry one day it’ll be too long, that there will be no forcibly stitching his soul and body back together, that all will remain is a ghost and the body of a boy who’s been dead for longer than anyone knows. The longest Danny’s ever gone is thirty-three minutes, yet they were still able to bring him back that day even as it seemed to take longer than usual. But there’s no one they can ask for help or advice, no one that’s dealt with this before besides them and Jazz, and none of them trust the Fenton parents enough  to not shoot their own son in the face if they learn the truth. Because so far, at least, when Danny’s back he is alive again. He’s grown a few inches since this started a year ago. He’s been forced to get his usual haircuts, to trim his nails when they get too long. His heart beats within his chest, and he breathes and smiles and laughs like there’s nothing different, nothing wrong, and absolutely nothing out of the ordinary about him.

They shift Danny again, laying him down flat on the floor on his back as Tucker kneels down beside him and sets up the defibrillator and sticks the pads to Danny’s chest. There’s nothing they can do until he returns, so they wait, Tucker drumming his fingers against the side of his leg as Sam continues to glance at her watch every few seconds. “Did you hear that they’re remaking the first Nightmerica movie?” he asks, looking for any distraction he can. 

“Ughh, yeah,” she groans. “Which completely misses the point of why it’s so good in the first place. I don’t want a modern version with modern effects. I want cheesy 80s costumes and music and horror and the chance to cheer as stuck-up cheerleaders get murdered. I mean I guess there’s a chance they’ll keep the original charm, but I doubt it.”

“Yeah, there’s already rumors that they’re casting, like, Scarlett Johanson as Nightmerica,” adds Tucker. “Doesn’t really bode well.”

“Seriously? If she gets cast, I’m just going to nope right out, pretend it doesn’t exist, and hope everyone else does the same,” she says, and then goosebumps erupt across their skin as the temperature in the room drops precipitously as Phantom enters the classroom, phasing through the wall. 

He looks rougher than usual as ectoplasm drips from his arms and chest, deep claw marks gouging through the thin black and white hazmat suit he wears even now. His eyes are consumed with green light, his hair floating over his head and flickering like sparks, and there’s a faint hint of white beneath the dark suit, of the shape of bones even as Phantom is nothing but ectoplasm. “Rough fight?” he asks.

There’s heavy static behind each word. Talking to him like this is almost useless. They can’t understand the ghost speech, the odd echoes and noise and whirring, and trying to teach Danny sign language or morse code or any other method of communication when he’s whole again is worthless, none of the knowledge transferring to his ghostly self, the wall between his two halves too solid for even Phantom to phase through. They don’t know why Phantom is one of the only ghosts that can’t speak without the noise and distortion, that can’t make his words understood, but it’s a truth that’s held fast for as long as Danny’s been like this. 

But Tucker’s gotten better at reading his unnatural body language, the way he twists upside down and curls his tail around himself as his sharp, pointed teeth flash. “Sorry, man,” he says. “I wish you didn’t have to do this.”

They don't know why he feels compelled to fight the other ghosts. They don't even know what triggers the transformation, even as they've come to recognize the warning signs, like the odd vacant stare that sets in, the way Danny’s hackles almost seem to rise as he silently snarls. And it's not as if Danny can tell them.

Phantom whispers something in response, the words still lost in the static, and then he floats over to himself, putting a hand over his own corpse, because as hard as it is for Tucker to think of it that way, he knows, on some level, that’s what Danny's body is without Phantom. There’s no life in it, no presence, no spirit. It’s merely flesh, an empty vessel, and he shudders to think what could happen if another ghost found him like this, if he might be able to possess him somehow. 

"We're at nine minutes," says Sam, and Phantom lets out something like a sigh as he floats back into the corpse. Danny's eyes snap open, green and glowing, and they move quickly.

Unlike the one in the lab that was old and lacked the safety features of most modern AEDs, they had to make a few modifications to this one to get it to work. A modern defibrillator won't let someone shock a body with no heartbeat. Messing with the tech felt dicey, but they couldn't find any other methods to safely deliver a shock to him that wouldn't risk their own safety, too.

The pads are already placed, and he pushes the button, biting his lip as he waits. It delivers the first shock, but aside from a twitch in his shoulders and a confirmation from the AED, there's little to no sign it happened. 

A hiss of soft static, and Tucker understands the meaning despite the noise, a bitter plea for them to do it again. It takes three shocks before they see it, the strange white light around his midsection, and Tucker turns off the AED as he and Sam scramble a few steps back.

The light spreads, eventually too bright for them to bear the sight of it as little arcs of electricity dance along Danny's skin, and when it finally stops he's sitting up, staring vacantly. The daze won't last, but they take this moment to put away the defibrillator, removing the pads from his chest. Tucker puts the necklace back on, his fingers shaking as he snaps the clasp together. Much as he tries to act like this doesn’t bother him anymore, he can’t contain his relief at seeing Danny sitting up again, his chest slowly moving with each breath, his pulse steady beneath his wrist and neck. 

They've just pulled his shirt on when he blinks, and Danny looks down at his hands, wincing as he touches his chest. "I feel like I got run over by the GAV," he groans, and Tucker forces himself to chuckle.

"You might as well have. You hit the floor hard when you fainted," says Tucker. The injuries are never there, but some phantom pain always seems to remain as his ghost heals. "I'm sorry we never manage to catch you, man. I know it’s gotta hurt."

"It's fine," mumbles Danny. "How long was I out?"

"About ten minutes," says Sam. She doesn’t point out that they time this, now, down to the second. It’s not as if timing it changes anything, but it makes them feel better when they revive Danny in under twenty minutes. More than that and they start to worry. Tucker’s still not sure how Danny doesn’t have any brain damage at this point from the lack of oxygen. 

Danny hums, flexing his fingers for a minute as the ghost alarm shuts down. "I . . . Doesn't it seem like this is getting worse? I can't even remember seeing a ghost. I . . . I never can."

"You know this messes with your memory–"

"Yeah, but that makes this seem more like I'm having seizures or something, not fainting. And it's always one of you or Jazz when I wake up, which seems weird, maybe? I just  . . . Maybe we should tell my parents," he whispers, and Tucker's heart aches.

"I don't think that's a good idea–" begins Sam, but he cuts her off.

"--why not?" He looks between the two of them, scowling, his fists now clenched. "What aren't you telling me?"

He and Sam exchange a long look. It always comes to this eventually, yet despite their best efforts, it's pointless. Some part of Danny refuses to hear the truth, to acknowledge that he died or at least half-died in the portal, and within an hour he always forgets they even discussed this at all. They don't know why. They've proven over and over again that they accept him and love him despite how he’s changed. But the wall is still too solid to break through.

They should explain it to Danny again anyway. Tucker knows that. But he's so tired of repeating himself, and he knows Sam is, too. Jazz says his psyche needs more time to process and accept the truth, but it's been a year with no sign of things changing. 

Sam eventually sighs, forcing the words out. She's always been the strongest of the three of them in more ways than one. "A year ago, you had an accident. You were hurt badly, and we saved you, but–"

The door swings open suddenly, and he sees Mr. Lancer there, the relief evident on his face. "Lord of the Flies! Is everyone okay?" he asks as he takes in the sight of the three of them on the floor. At least the AED is back in Tucker's bag and out of sight, since Tucker doubts Mr. Lancer would be willing to ignore what that might signify if he saw it. 

"We're fine," says Sam. "We thought we heard the ghost and hid. I'm sorry we worried you."

"Somehow that always seems to happen with the three of you," he says with a frown, clearly questioning it, but thankfully he doesn't push it further. "But I’m glad that you’re safe, at least, and now that the ghost is gone you three need to get to class."

"Okay." They stand up, and Tucker can see the worry and distrust as Danny clenches his jaw and refuses to look at them as he heads out into the hallway. But that’s not the worst part. No, it’s knowing that by the time lunch rolls around, Danny won’t remember his suspicions or his fears. They’ll be pushed down, slowly hidden beneath the protective part of his mind that refuses to let him know the truth, and instead of questioning why he constantly faints whenever there’s a ghost, why he has strange aches and pains, and why he often sets off his parents’ equipment even when he’s human again, he’ll talk to them about the latest video games and movies and gossip and homework. 

He desperately wants his friend to know the truth. It hurts, even as he knows they’re not lying to Danny about what’s happening, that they’ve tried to explain it before. And despite how naturally taking care of his body comes to him and Sam now, despite knowing the signs that herald Phantom’s emergence, Tucker knows they can’t keep this a secret forever. Inevitably, they won’t be there one day, they’ll miss an obvious sign, or someone like Lancer will walk in a little too soon. And once they learn the truth, he and Sam and Jazz know that Danny will be taken from them as he’s locked away in a lab by the GIW or his parents and becomes some gruesome science experiment, tortured as he can’t even remember the reason why. 

More and more Tucker’s beginning to think they’re running out of time. They need to find a way. They need to get Danny to understand who and what he is so he can protect himself, because Tucker’s not sure how much longer he can keep up the lie, too. 

EDIT: I wrote a Part Two, it's here.

#danny phantom #angstfest2023 #my writing #no one knows au #just this time it's Danny who's clueless #corpse au #electric core au #if you squint #probably medical inaccuracies #very mild gore #tucker pov #again #i might do a second part for this for the everyone knows au bit #but i'm not sure yet #i might cross post this to ao3 after editing it more too

[spacecowboyhotch]

Boy Meets Cat, Boy Meets Girl

pairing: steven grant x f!reader

prompt: kid fic or pet fic

contents: the feelings that come w/ temporarily losing a pet, meetcute, flirting

wc: 1,334

an: another promotional fic for @moonknight-events! steven is just…one of the sweetest, cutest men ever. written w/ the Marc’s girls server in mind, iykyk!

DISCLAIMER: as a event runner i will not be entered in the drawing for prizes. this is promotional only.

SP BINGO 2024 | moonknight masterlist

She’s sitting on the steps one day outside the museum after Steven’s shift. He almost walks right past her, bumbling down the steps with a soft hum. It’s been a long day of being yelled at atop getting sleep that just isn’t restful. He’s exhausted. He’s unobservant.

He’s nearly past her when he hears it— a loud, scratchy meow that catches his attention. Steven stops in his tracks, blinking rapidly.

Had he just heard a cat? On the museum steps? Sleep deprivation really was getting to him, wasn’t it?

He turns towards the sound, sure that there will be nothing there, that he is just hearing things. But there she is, perched on the museum steps as if she owns the place. She looks like a little heap of snow— her fur is fluffy and a stark white color that contrasts with her dark eyes and pink nose. He lets out a little sound of surprise, and then she meows back as if she’s answering him.

He laughs, a bright and cheery sound. “Well, hello there little one. Lost are we?”

She meows again, this time a little softer and if Steven wasn’t mistaken, a little sadder. He softens, taking a few cautious steps toward her so as not to spook her. When she does seem skittish, staying in place despite him closing the gap he simply sits beside her on the steps.

“Do you have a name, little one? Can I look at your collar? Promise I’ll be gentle,” He says, reaching his hand out to her.

She leans forward on her front paws, sniffing at the back of his hand before giving out a soft purr. She bumps his hand with the top of her head, nuzzling.

Steven takes this opportunity to reach under her chin, scratching gently before he leans in to peer at her collar.

“Iris— what a pretty name for a pretty cat.”

Another meow as Iris bulldozes her way into his lap. Steven gives her a series of pats, setting off several purrs that he feels vibrating through her spine. She's so fluffy, so soft. He could pet her for all his days. It’s nice to have this companionship, even if it’s just a cat. Hell, it beats talking to the statuer at the fountain in the park and Iris hasn’t spoken a word.

You know for a moment there, I wondered if you were the goddess Bastet,” He whispers playfully, like he’s keeping a big secret. Iris simply meows, using her paws to slip down and lay across Steven’s thighs. “Aren’t you cold? Is that a silly question given your fur coat?”

Steven lets himself sit, idly petting Iris as he watches the sun slowly disappear behind the London skyline. He’s completely charmed with this cat, with the peaceful feeling her company brings. Part of him selfishly thinks about taking her home and keeping her as his own. But, he knows if he’s this fond of her in a short period of time her owner is probably grief-stricken to be without her. He’ll take her home for the night and use his off day to pursue leads on her owner. Perhaps Marc could help with the tracking. For tonight though, he has some company and the idea has Steven rising to his feet, Iris in tow.

“How’s about we head on home and watch a movie? Are you a fan of Meerkat Manor? Or will seeing them scurry about get you revved up?” He whispers, ignoring the weird glances he’s getting from passersby.

As expected, Iris simply gives out a soft meow, snuggling further into Steven’s hold. He grins, raising a hand to pet her head as he rounds the corner, effectively running into someone.

“Iris! There you are. Oh my god, thank you. Thank you,” You gasp, reaching out to squeeze his arm.

If Steven thought he was charmed by Iris, he must come up with a word that holds more meaning at the sight of you. Your cheeks are tear-stained, eyes a mixture of happiness and guilt. Your brows are pinched together, and he has the urge to reach up and smooth out the wrinkle between them. The urge to soothe you. Even during the short walk, Steven had imagined his reluctance to give Iris back to her owner, but that’s all melted away now that you’re right in front of him. So, so beautiful.

“You’re Iris’ mum?”

“Yes. Fuck, thank you so much. I can’t– I don’t know what I would’ve done without her. I owe you.”

“Ah, don’t worry about it. I simply stumbled upon her outside the museum after work. I was gonna start looking for her owner tomorrow, imagined it was too late. But look at you, as diligent as ever.”

“The museum? What were you doing there?” You ask Iris before looking up at the man to whom you practically owe your life again. He’s very handsome, a little tired-looking but his eyes are warm, and his hair is fluffy curls. She’s everything to me,” You explain, squeezing Iris to your cheek, doing some nuzzling of your own.

Iris has clearly learned her affectionate manners from you.

Steven’s mind quickly wanders, wondering what it would feel like to be on the receiving end of your affection. He bats the thought away, flushing. “I can imagine, she’s a little charmer. Plopped herself right in my lap.”

“I’m surprised she got this close to you, she’s incredibly picky. She must sense that you’re a lovely person.”

“Well–I– I’m glad to live up to Iris’ standards. She seems to have good taste. Animals sort of choose their owners don’t they?”

“Thanks,” You murmur shyly, feeling your own cheeks fill with warmth. “I know that folks can say being a pet parent is cringy, but I really am lucky to be her mom. She has such an energy to her.”

“Warm. Calm,” Steven supplies, reaching out to pet Iris’ head, if only for the last time. She nuzzles into his hand and he smiles.

Your eyes track his hand, still a little surprised at how easily Iris is letting him pet her. She had hated almost every person you’d brought back to your apartment except a handful of friends. But, any romantic prospects had quickly made themselves scarce given your mean, overprotective cat.

“Exactly.”

“Well Miss Iris, I guess we won’t be getting to watch Meerkat Manor after all will we? Perhaps your mum could show.”

“Meerkat Manor?”

“It follows a little family of meerkats through the desert. Their struggles, their connections, their enemies. All sorts of things.”

“I’ve always been a fan of animal docs.”

“Yeah? I could recommend you loads of them.”

“I would really like that. I don’t think I got your name?”

“Steven.”

“Steven,” You repeat softly before giving him your name. “It’s really lovely to meet you. This is bold of me but…maybe we could see each other again?

Steven’s mouth drops open, eyes wide in surprise. “Really?”

“I told you I owe you and well– Iris seems to like you a lot. Maybe I could make you dinner as repayment and we could watch some meerkats live their lives.”

“I– yeah. Yeah, alright, I would love to.”

You and Steven quickly exchange contacts. He gives Iris a few more pets before rocking back and forth on his heels.

“I’ll call you tomorrow. Sound alright?” He asks, voice hopeful.

“Sounds great,” You confirm.

You shift Iris into the crook of your elbow, and to Steven’s surprise, wrap him in a one-armed hug as you whisper him a soft thanks. His response is delayed but he hugs you back, surrounded by your warmth and soft scent. After a few beats you pull away, giving him a smile as the two of you exchange temporary goodbyes. Steven makes his way back to his flat with a wide grin, grateful that Iris had brought the two of you together. Cat in arms, butterflies in stomach you walk home feeling much the same.

moonknight taglist: @ninebluehearts, @rmoonstoner, @hotchs-bitch,  @later-gators12, @foreverinwanderlustt-blog, @aleeb , @eyelessfaces, @marc-spectorr, @missdictatorme, @toracainz, @mccn-bcys, @campingwiththecharmings, @whatthefishh

#as promised from the poll…yes it’s a little early mostly bc i need something to distract me #steven grant x reader #steven grant x f!reader #steven grant fanfiction #steven grant fluff #moonknight fanfiction #moonknightevents #arson writes

[catgirlforeskin]

The new CoD campaign might be the most racist game I’ve ever seen. While Modern Warfare (2019) often felt like a barrage of cynical attempts at generating controversy through shock value moments to the point where the entire experience was numb, Modern Warfare 2 (2022) feels like it was spawned directly from the collective unconscious of every uncle you avoid at thanksgiving because he watches 7 hours of Fox News a day and can’t shut up about it, and it genuinely worries me the effect it’s gonna have

Some highlights include

The game opening with you doing a missile strike on an Iranian general who’s an obvious stand-in for Soleimani. The game portrays this unlawful assassination as an unambiguous good, and the only characters who talk about it as an international crime for which the US military needs to be held accountable are “terrorists” we’re supposed to dismiss

The main plot following this is that, in revenge for that assassination, some other Iranian general is going to get smuggled over the Mexico-US border by some cartel with a missile of his own to strike at the suburbs or whatever.

To give the game the tiniest amount of credit, a character does say that this idea is stupid and that terrorists don’t cross over the Mexico-US border, but that’s why the antagonist is doing it, because it’s unexpected or whatever. The whole thing is really fucking stupid

In one mission you play as two Mexican special forces dudes who try to stop the guy from crossing into the US. The mission opens with border patrol harassing migrants that the antagonist used as a “decoy” so he could cross somewhere else.

You then chase him into the US and go through a town harassing civilians in their homes and asking them where the guy went. You’re prompted to “right click to de-escalate!” which makes you point your gun and threaten them. Most of these people are Mexican immigrants.

Towards the end of the mission you get stopped by American local cops who are threatening you and being racist, but then they get blown up by a rocket launcher right after and it never gets addressed again.

Later you get sent into Mexico with an American private military contractor because they have “less red tape” with unlawful killings, this is shown to be a good thing though.

The game treats Mexico as a Mad Max wasteland where cartels control everything. It handwrings about how awful it is that the military and police are corrupt there and that the cartels target children with their propaganda and let them have guns, and the game of course has zero sense of self-awareness about this.

The two “good guy” Mexican special forces you work with are part of a squad called “The Vaqueros” which feels on par with Overwatch having every Japanese character be a ninja.

You kill hundreds of soldiers in the Mexican Army, just like the normal one, but the game says it’s ok because they were probably all secretly part of the cartels. You then use the pmc gunship to kill hundreds more while destroying towns and farms in the process. It’s never remarked on besides “wow cool explosions, team!”

You finally capture the other Iranian general but have to let him go because of international laws, which are shown to be bad and just slow the good guys down

The quotes that play when you die aren’t anti-war now, they’re either explicitly nationalist crap, are quotes FROM CALL OF DUTY, or are generally inspirational quotes.

And I’m only HALFWAY through the game, and I didn’t even mention everything!

The game isn’t co-op but I’ve been playing through it with my wife in call (she’s generally the one more into CoD), and the one positive thing she had to say is that the Spanish is generally good and sounds like they actually got people who regularly speak Spanish to write and voice act, like they use slang that her dad and her family in Mexico uses and whatnot.

#call of duty

[kittycatlukey]

“Let’s Keep This Between Us”

Note: Leon is your older brother’s best friend.

Leon Kennedy x Female Reader

Part 1 of 1

Tagging @alewesker ❤️

TW: Mentions of death, alcohol usage, language, NSFW situations (smut)‼️

You had walked into your older brother’s house to visit like you did every Friday after work. You were an RN that worked five days a week. Every Friday, you, your brother Parker, and his best friend Leon Kennedy would spend the evening at your sibling’s house, drinking, playing pool, video games, going swimming, watching baseball and whatnot. It was a great way to spend time with the two people that you cared most about in the world and helped you wind down after a long work week of saving patients.

Both your parents had died seven years ago in a car accident that was caused by a drunk driver. Even though when it happened you and your brother were considered young adults, you both were young and lost. But Leon helped you two along the way, never leaving you or your brother’s side. He was like family. Leon was your brother’s best friend since kindergarten, and that never changed. So you all have known each other your whole lives.

Shutting the front door and kicking off your shoes, leaving them by the front door, you heard a shout that belonged to Parker sounding from the living room.

“Ah shit! Grand slam by fucking Mike Trout!” He yelled in frustration, gripping his beer bottle tightly, his knuckles turning white. “The Reds are better than that! We’re down by THREE runs?! How the hell did that happen?!”

You rolled your eyes in annoyance, your headache slowly beginning to worsen, “Shut up, Parker. I love the Reds, but right now I don’t care. I’ve already had a rough fucking day. That’s enough of your damn screaming.” The living room could be seen upon entering the house. You could see Leon and Parker sitting beside each other watching the baseball game.

“What happened, Y/N?” Leon’s head turned around to look at you, asking with concern. “Are you okay?” He immediately stood up from the leather couch and made his way to you, worry evident in his icy blue orbs.

“You good, lil sis?” Parker questioned from the couch, his attention instantly focusing on you.

“I’m fine, but one of my patients wasn’t. He was just a kid. He… coded. The poor kid survived… barely. I— I had to do CPR until a few other nurses and doctors came in to help me. But we saved him.” You paused at some parts, tears threatening to fall down your face.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. Come here.” Leon spoke gently, enveloping you in a comforting, warm hug.

As your arms were wrapped around his abdomen, his arms were wrapped around your waist, the smell of him instantly traveling to your nose. Leon’s familiar, masculine cologne always seemed to soothe you. The tears were stinging your eyes but eventually went away. It was weird the calming effect Leon had on you, but it worked.

“You saved that kid, Y/N. I’m proud of you. I know that wasn’t easy to do.” Leon stated confidently, his low voice close to your ear sending shivers down your spine.

“Thank you, Leon… For always being here for me… Reassuring me. You’re a good friend.” You thanked him with a small smile after pulling away.

Leon’s pretty white teeth were formed in a bright smile as he spoke to you. “You don’t have to thank me for that, Y/N. I want to be there for you and Parker anytime you need me. You and him have always been there for me too.”

“Yeah, I agree with Leon.” Parker added, patting you on the back. “You’re a really good nurse, lil sis. That kid was lucky to have you there… It sounds like you need something to take your mind off of things. And I know just the thing. Wait here… I’ll be back with some stronger shit.” Parker slapped your arm playfully before he slipped on his shoes and car keys, leaving you and Leon alone.

“Wonder what your brother has in mind.” Leon laughed, shaking his head, resulting in his brown hair swaying cutely.

“No idea. But it’s probably not good.” You smirked while rolling your eyes. “My headache is slowly becoming worse. A few beers would’ve helped. I need something— anything— to take my mind off it. Right now. I can’t wait for him to get back. You got anymore beers left? I need to get drunk asap.” You rubbed your temples with your eyes closed, attempting to ease the throbbing pain.

“I have something in mind.” Leon spoke lowly, something foreign in his voice.

At his words, your eyes snapped open. The way his words left his mouth seductively, along with the huskiness of his voice. And all you could think was “Is he flirting with me?” You gulped at his sudden straightforwardness. It was odd. He had never spoken to you in that way before. And you’d be embarrassed to admit that it kind of turned you on. But then you wondered if it was all the alcohol talking.

“Leon, you’re just drunk. You’re not thinking clearly. We can watch the game until Parker comes back.” You tried to avoid his ocean eyes as you took his large hand in yours and led him to the living room to watch the Reds v. Angels game.

Leon chuckled at you. “No, I’m not drunk. I haven’t drank anything. I’m completely sober.” He admitted.

You raised an eyebrow realizing he was telling the truth. He wasn’t swaying or stumbling when he walked and he wasn’t slurring over his words. “Okay. So what’re you talking about?”

“I think you know exactly what I’m talking about, beautiful.” Leon said, his voice deep as he placed his hands on your hips.

“Leon, what’s gotten into you?” You questioned, a slight blush on your cheeks while your heart fluttered. “Are— are you…”

“Shhh. Let me make you feel good.” Leon grazed his lips over the side of your neck as you tensed up in anxiousness. “I’ve liked you for a really long time, Y/N. I think it’s about time you know.”

You gulped once again at his words. “Y-You have?”

Leon smirked against your neck, “Mmhmm. Let’s keep this between us. For now at least. I don’t want Parker to murder me.”

You nodded in response, knowing you wouldn’t be able to form a coherent answer. You had a crush on Leon for a long long time, and you never knew that he knew. You didn’t tell him and you didn’t tell your brother either. So you had no idea how he knew. You guessed you weren’t so subtle with your actions and the way you looked at him. But at that moment, that was at the back of your mind. All you wanted was Leon’s lips on yours.

You wondered where this newfound confidence had came from as you placed your hands on his cheeks and led his lips to yours. The kiss started off slow, passionate, and sweet, causing butterflies in your stomach. The way you felt at that moment was like nothing you’ve ever experienced before. Your past relationships have never given you this feeling before, and you believe that nobody could compare to the man in front of you.

As your lips moved in sync, Leon’s hands roamed your body. His hands were first on your cheeks but went down to your shoulders, then traveled to your chest, next to your waist, then your hips, then he started squeezing your ass. You squealed when he made contact with your bottom, causing him to chuckle in the kiss. Your tongues fought for dominance and his won before he pulled away reluctantly. Leon’s hands then went to the back of your thighs.

“Jump.”

You jumped and wrapped your legs around his waist as he secured you. Both of his hands lifting you up by your thighs. Your lips were on each other’s again while he carried you to the couch, laying you on your back. Leon was on top of you as his lips moved from your lips to your necks, leaving bruises behind.

“Way to go for being subtle.” You joked as he continued leaving hot, wet kisses on your neck, leaving behind hickeys already beginning to form.

“I can’t help myself, Y/N. Plus, Parker will be too drunk to notice.” Leon smiled slyly before taking off his shirt, showing off his muscular upper body.

“Damn. I could never get tired of seeing that.” You but your bottom lip, gazing at his body lustfully.

Leon grinned at that while he took his pants off throwing it across the room. “This body’s all yours… Now it’s your turn, princess.” He helped you take your scrubs off, along with your undergarments. And then you were completely at his mercy. “I could never get tired of seeing you like this. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

His words made you blush. “Leon, I’m ready.”

“Are you sure?” Leon asked, making sure you actually wanted him.

You nodded in response, “Yes, Leon. I need you.”

Leon’s eyes had darkened immediately at your words. “Your wish is my command.” He began to tug his boxers off, his dick springing out from the confined fabric.

He was bigger and thicker than you would’ve thought. Leon’s boxers were on the ground before you knew it. It was red and standing tall, intimidating you. It was definitely the largest you had been with. You wondered if it would even fit inside you.

“Hey, if you don’t want me, I understand.” Leon said, worry filling his eyes. His darker than normal orbs were boring into yours. “You can stop me right now. Anytime.”

“No. No. That’s the last thing I’d want… Leon, I want you so bad.” You admitted, almost pleadingly. “Do you want me?” You asked, worried about his answer.

“Of course I do.”

“What are you waiting on?” You questioned, and without any warning, his thumb went to your clit and you gasped at his touch. Leon was rubbing your bud in circular motions and you felt like you were on cloud nine already. And he inserted his middle finger, then his ring finger, following his index finger. “Oh fuck, Leon.” You moaned over and over again at his expertise.

“You’re so wet. All for me.” He continued to keep a quick pace with his skillful digits. And pretty soon, you came hard on his fingers. He rode out your high and pulled his digits out, licking and sucking his fingers clean. “Goddamn, you taste divine.”

And with that, Leon kissed you passionately, making you taste yourself. Once he pulled away, he jerked himself off a few times, leaking pre-cum on your stomach. “You ready, baby?”

You nodded, unsure if you’d be able to form any coherent words. He once again left you speechless.

With no hesitation, he entered you, and all you could see were stars. Leon grabbed your legs and laid them atop his shoulders so he had better access to you. Your eyes rolled back into your head in pleasure. “Leon, oh my god.”

“Love to fill you up.” He murmured as he first started at a slow pace and worked his way faster, making sure not to hurt you and to make sure your comfort and pleasure was at its peak. “Shit, you feel so good around my cock.”

Leon rammed into you over and over again as you moved your hips along with his. And soon ecstasy overcame you once again. You came harder than you ever came before and all you could see was white as your pussy convulsed around him. He grunted in pure bliss. You cumming on his cock made him cum deep inside you. And when he pulled out, some of his seed tried escaping but he shoved it all back inside you with his fingers.

“Fuck, that’s so hot, Y/N.” Leon groaned, as he laid on top of you, kissing your sweaty forehead. He was sweaty as well because his hair was sticking to his forehead and cheeks. “I’ve wanted to do this with you for so long.”

“So have I.” You told him truthfully as you raked your finger through his hair.

Time must’ve gotten away from the two of you because you heard the front door open…

~~~~~

This was my first time writing about Leon Kennedy. And I apologize, I’m not the best at writing, but I enjoy it. Please go easy on me, I haven’t written anything in a while lol. I hope you all enjoyed reading though! I really loved writing this. It’s made me realize how much I missed it. I wrote this for @alewesker ! We both love Leon so much. 😂

Much love,

kittycatlukey (Von)❤️

Written: 7 July 2023

Revised: 8 July 2023

#leon kennedy #resident evil #leon kennedy oneshot #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy drabble #leon kennedy re4 #leon kennedy resident evil #leon kennedy headcanons #leon kennedy hc #leon kennedy romantic #leon kennedy imagine #resident evil 2 #resident evil 3 #resident evil 4 #resident evil 5 #resident evil 6 #resident evil 7 #resident evil 8 #re8 village #re7 biohazard #re6 leon #re5 #re4 smut #re4 #re4 remake #re4 leon #re4 fanart #re4 ada #re4 ashley #leon s kennedy

[j0elmill3r]

No outbreak au where years later Sarah leaves for college and it’s only Joel and baby girl at home now, but they still do movie nights over facetime and both girls fall asleep like when they were kiddos

You were heartbroken when your sister moved away to college, to say the least. You were only 7 when she moved away and didn't quite grasp the concept of the whole college thing - So you had to get used to it being just you and your dad, even though you missed your sister so much.

Joel had noticed your down mood in the weeks since Sarah leaving, you weren't as happy or talkative anymore, opting to sit in your sister's room and play with your toys in there, even though it made you sad that she wasn't there to play with you anymore. Sarah, oddly enough, missed you too - She didn't think she would miss her 7-year-old sister that much, but here she was, about to walk her dad step by step on how to use facetime.

"Okay, I think I have the hang of it," Joel told her, he didn't understand much of this new technology, god, he hated how old he sounded now. "Y/N!" He called out for you, looking at Sarah as he listened to you thump down the stairs. You looked sad, as you often did nowadays, and made your way over to the couch, where your dad sat with his phone. You jumped up beside him, clutching onto his arm as you looked at his phone - your face suddenly lighting up with joy at the familiar face on your dad's phone.

"Sarah!" You yelled excitedly, a large grin on your face as you pointed at the phone. Joel smiled at the excitement his girls showed. "Daddy, can I use the phone? Please, please, please, please, please, can I?!" You begged him, pulling the best puppy dog eyes that you could. Joel nodded, giving you his phone and watching you run up the stairs to your room.

"How's school?" Sarah asked you, giggling as you huffed out dramatically and shook your head. "That good?"

"It's so bad, all the teachers keep makin' the googly eyes at daddy and they're all bein' extra nice to me," You explained to her. She screwed her face up as she laughed at your story. "And! And then I had to share my toys with a girl in my class and she broke it and her mommy won't give daddy the money." Sarah laughed at you, at the prime age of 7, and embracing your inner, nosy 40-year-old woman.

"Wow, that's bad," She told you, shaking her head in agreement with your grievance towards the girl who'd broken your toy.

"I know! Was one of my favorites," You grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest for effect. Sarah laughed, smiling as you yawned and rubbed your eyes - She noted that you were sitting on her bed in her old room, and you made yourself comfy under the covers. "Sleepy," You yawned, cosying into her bed. Sarah smiled, yawning as she watched you doze off.

A while later, Joel went to check on you, realizing how long it had been since you had gone upstairs and that his phone had probably run out of charge. But instead, he found you asleep in Sarah's bedroom, in her bed, still on facetime to her. He smiled softly, it was the first time you had appeared to actually be comfortably asleep since Sarah had left. He took the phone from your grasp, smiling gently as he saw Sarah sleeping too, clutching the best sister teddy bear you had picked out for her recent 18th birthday. He ended the facetime call, grinning at the fact that despite your and Sarah's 11 year age difference, that she still wanted to talk to and try and spend time with you.

#joel tlou #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller hbo #joel miller x daughter!reader #x daughter reader #x daughter #x daughter!reader #sarah miller x sister reader #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #hbo the last of us #fluff #drabbles

[maryellencarter]

Andy Serkis, of course, as *the* expert in motion-capture acting ever since he first played Gollum 20+ years ago, is a shapeshifter in ways beyond even most character actors to achieve.

He's also a high-level shapeshifter by normal character actor methods -- when I saw him in Black Panther (I think possibly the only place I've seen him wearing his own face, me not being a great moviegoer at the best of times), there was only one brief moment where an expression that reminded me of Gollum flickered through.

Recently, it turned out that a free trial of Amazon Prime which I happened to have running could be converted into a second free book credit on Audible if I should take a free trial there. I've been curious for some time about the 2021 audiobook of LOTR performed by Andy Serkis, and while trying to get my sleep schedule right way up for job-hunting purposes, I've been working on listening to his Fellowship of the Ring. (I've just reached Moria.)

It's a straight-up audiobook, not a play, by the technical definition: one performer, no music or added special effects. But *damn*, you want to talk about shapeshifting? Serkis does startlingly accurate impressions of every actor in the Peter Jackson movies, plus unique voices for characters with no movie casting, and he sings the songs that are described as having tunes.

(I don't have the ear to tell whether he's using new compositions or some kind of traditional tunes, except that I can say for certain he doesn't use Tolkien's rendition of "A fox went out on a winter's night" for Sam's "Troll Song". If anyone with a better ear than mine happens to investigate, I'd be delighted to know what's discovered.)

His narratorial voice isn't 100% Jirt, which is a Choice, but one I honestly support. The Professor had a thick Old English accent which would probably be a chore to listen to or perform for 60+ hours of total audiobook length. Serkis seems to be using something close to his natural Middlesex accent for the narration, as far as I can tell, but there are enough of the familiar Tolkienian twists (like using the "o" sound from the word "tossed" in "shone" and "wroth") that I'm favorably impressed so far.

His Elvish pronunciation isn't perfect, but it's solidly movie-quality (positive); you'd likely have to be me, with a quarter-century and counting of Sindarin as a second language, to snag on the tiny things I'm snagging on, stuff like the Finnish-style double-length "m" in Remmirath or the "eth" sound represented by the "dh" in Caradhras. (There is properly no D sound in Caradhras; the middle consonant sound should be that of the "th" in "these clothes", but I've never actually heard anyone besides myself say it that way.) He gets a lot of the tricky sounds correct, better than I do when I'm being sloppy, like the long-i-adjacent diphthong in Edain or the broad second A in Gandalf.

Also, the unique voices and the vocal effects he brings in for certain scenes are just... I don't even have words. The Barrow-Wight is as terrifying as it was when I was ten. Tom Bombadil sings about 95% of his dialogue, which I've never imagined any performance acknowledging unless it were the hypothetical LOTR opera I suggest every so often, but goddamn if he doesn't somehow make it work. For the movie-cast voices, he flips so smoothly between the mishmash of accents that I keep forgetting I'm not actually listening to a full-cast play with Billy Boyd's chirpy Glaswegian, Sean Bean's gruff Yorkshire, and Sean Astin's earnest put-on West Country all complete.

As for the lowest bar, the reason I refuse to recommend Rob Inglis's older unabridged audiobooks as an entry point -- Inglis regularly inserts contractions that aren't in the original text, turning the formal tone of scenes where "cannot" and "will not" are important signifiers into something incongruously conversational. I do not forgive that kind of alteration in a text where the formality level, and the changes between levels, are such an incredibly fundamental part of what's being conveyed. Serkis has already successfully cleared one dialogue point where it would have been easy to change "can not" to "can't" (Pippin talking nearly as fast as hobbitly possible), and I'm very optimistic that he'll continue to hit those marks.

Wow, that got longer than I expected, but I'm *really* enjoying this rendition. Unless it majorly blows up in my face somehow, I fully expect to have a new go-to recommendation for How To Experience LOTR for people who can't get through it by reading the text. (And even for people who can. I've said on many occasions, that book is written to be read aloud.)

#lotr #andy serkis

[warm-concrete]

Weapon & Wound.

Chapter 2

Astarion x Fem!Reader + Gale x Fem!Reader

Summary: Tav is a druid drow called Fawn.

Fawn gains attention wherever she goes. She's more than used to men that are troublesomely complimentary at best, wishing to revel in her death at worst.

So she's exasperated when she can't divert her attention from Astarion, who acts as though he'd like to do both and more.

Word Count: 6.7k

Ao3 Links: Chapter 1 / Chapter 2

Tags on Ao3. NSFW Snippet Below.

What a show.

Astarion had been awake all night, still not used to sleeping through it, despite all the battles he’d been dragged into that day.

It had been an incredibly dull evening, trapped with his thoughts by the rain. Usually he’d go find something to hunt and drink but, he wasn’t going to get drenched for animal blood, his hair would be ruined. 

Instead he focused on the one thing that didn’t involve the tadpole or Cazador. He thought about her. If he was honest, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her. Like the evening they’d spent gossiping, when she’d excitedly indulged his musings on their companions’ blood. It was a strange feeling, chatting casually, she almost seemed more comfortable than he was with his undead status.

Whenever she was close, which was constantly since he had apparently been included in her favoured group to go off exploring, he couldn’t help but become acutely aware of her smell. Her blood pumping, hidden by skin. It was becoming irksome, to know how she felt inside him, the effect her blood had in him. He desperately wanted more, but it wasn’t like he could just ask. 

He was growing better at hunting animals with each passing day. It was almost funny, how he was so practised in the art of luring people but, against the wilderness he was out of his element. Like he was just another predator on the food-chain. But he had to do it, their blood was the only thing stopping him from tearing Fawn apart. Gods! Even her stupid name temped him, teased him. 

After being starved for so long, he found that he didn’t like the feeling of being full. It was strange, unnatural, uncomfortable. It felt worse than the infinite hunger he’d been forced to nurture. Except that one night. Her blood was the exquisite exception.

For the second time in this century, his dick twitched on its own accord. This time, in the privacy of his tent, covered with the sound of the storm he grew curious. Besides he didn’t have any better plans and abstinence was unhealthy for a man of his condition, probably.

Astarion pulled his semi out from his leathers. He spat in his palm and reached for himself. Anything to have her in my mouth again. Her flesh; skin not so tough when warred with his jaw. He pumped slowly, with a strong grip. She’d nursed him drooling and panting and messy, dosing him, nourishing him. His breath hitched. He tried to picture spreading her open, instead he saw another’s legs. This was torture.  

But, he continued, fangs bared as he looked down as himself. His dick was pulsing, straining, dripping. His fist was hammering down, desperate for distraction, to loosen some tension. He was well versed in finding what made another tick, and yet. 

He tried closing his eyes, brow crumpled. A thought flashed; the drow climbing onto him. Yes. Grabbing his neck, tipping his head back. Gods, yes. An unexpected heat spread through him, he was leaking over his fingers. She drew a stake from where one arm had stayed behind her back, plunging it through ribs.

“Ueh.” He whipped his hand away from himself, shakily wiping his hand off over his chest, bare from where his shirt had ridden up. “Mood killer.” He announced to his messy confines. His dick still stood straight, aching for attention but, he was disinterested in what his body wanted. Blood, touch, heat, softness; always so needy, it was tiresome.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed as he lay still. He thought of thumbing through a book he’d picked up but remembered how incredibly dull its contents had been: ‘Thyme heals all wounds’. The spelling had been covered with a dark smudge when he grabbed it. He wasn’t amused when he’d sat expecting some hilariously awful publication, only to find infographics and illustrations about planting a garden of useful herbs. The rain had slowed from a pour, but was still constant, relentless. Although the thunder had grown sparse. 

Thats when he’d heard her.

#bg3 #astarion x female reader #astarion x female tav #astarion smut #astarion x you #astarion x tav #astarion #astarion x reader #bg3 smut #bg3 fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #ao3 link #bg3 gale #gale x tav

[angelmichelangelo]

Ooh, are you taking requests? I'd love to see a little 2012 Raph whump, maybe a little something where Mikey gets to be badass and protect/care for his big bro?

i love badass mikey :3 adding in the medic!mikey hc too because it makes me run around in a circle

x

Mikey soars through the air with the force of a bullet, kusarigama chains go taunt as he whips it forwards and then back towards him all with one movement, a flurry of Foot bowling over in its wake, a series of groans and cries echoing out over the stretch of rooftops.

Raph is slumped over, pressed up against the lip of the roof, practically folded in half, Mikey wastes no time in getting to him, he springs upwards, feet landing on slender shoulders, he kicks off, chucks swing backwards and connect hard with a human jaw with a sickening crack.

“Raph!” He barks, his brother groggily acknowledging his presence as he lifts his head up slowly. “Raph! Hold on!”

He’s skidding to a halt beside him. His heart kicks wildly in his chest when he notices the smear of crimson across his brothers palm that’s pressed into his side.

“Just a knick,” Raph says with a heavy breath. His eyes are rolling around in his skull like googly eyes, his mouth is drawn together in a thin, straight line. “M’fine.”

Mikey pulls his hand away and quickly replaces it with his own. Behind him he can hear the sound of Leo’s katanas cut through the air, Donnie’s bō staff colliding with bone, and a howl of pain ripples through the night air.

“Shut up,” he tells his brother plainly. “How deep?”

Raph doesn’t respond straight away, his head rocks back and forth on his shoulders with each laboured breath. Mikey clicks his tongue at him.

“Raph,” he presses, pushing his palm a little tighter towards the wound, making his brother hiss with pain, head snapping up like a rubber band. “How deep?”

Raph hums, annoyed. “Not deep enough that it stuck,” he tells him. That’s good. There’s a chance it missed anything vital.

“Kay,” Mikey muses. He drops his chucks by his feet, letting them roll a little ways away from him. He uses his free hand to rummage around the belt pack that holds all his emergency first aid things.

“S’gonna sting,” Mikey warns him before he’s pulling out a small bottle of antiseptic. “Don’t be a baby.”

Raph goes to say something, probably a well aimed curse word but whatever it is, it dies down in the back of his throat where a cut off sob replaces it, his whole body doing a quick little jerk of pain before he’s quickly stilling himself.

Mikey’s eyes meet his. He can’t help but smirk.

“I said don’t be a baby.”

This time Raph gets his chance to cuss him out.

“Fuck off.”

Mikey reaches in for a bandage. He’ll have to wrap it, only for the time being until they get off this rooftop and head home but this is all he can do for him for now.

“You’re a terrible patient, Raph.” Mikey says around a grin.

Raph huffs. He’s squirming still, probably the lingering effects of the antiseptic itching at his broken skin.

“Yeah,” he says through gritted teeth. “Well you’re a—”

Whatever Raph says, Mikey doesn’t hear it. Probably for the better too, given it was most likely a heated insult, but Mikey would take brotherly bickering any day over the sudden explosion of pain that comes down on top of his head.

“Mike!” He hears Raph call out, a shuffle of his sluggish body kicks Mikey into gear. Raph can’t move. He can handle this fine.

He blindly reaches for his discarded nunchucks. Praises Kami when his fingers find familiar wood groves. He yanks them up and spins on his shell.

Raph is trying to get up, clutching uselessly at his side as he stumbles to his feet, Mikey sends him back down with a meaningful jab of his elbow.

“Raph! Stay down!” He spins again, kicking his legs oht like a bronco horse, he feels connection with a torso, a crunch of broken ribs beneath his heel. With the wind kicked out of the Foot solider, he quickly leaps to his feet and moves.

There’s definitely a concussion swimming around in the back of his skull. His vision blurs for only a second, the whole earth seems to dance beneath him, unsteadying him just briefly, but Mikey keeps low to the ground and darts to the side.

He does a cartwheel despite the way it makes his brain bounce about in his head, hands moving outwards he grabs a hold of stiff shoulders and jerks them sideways, sending the solider spilling to the ground with a thud.

Mikey also goes sprawling across the floor but not before he’s scrambling upwards to get to Raphael.

“You idiot,” he huffs, shaking his head. It sends white spots bursting about the edges of his vision. “Stay still. I gotta re wrap this now.”

Raph’s eyes are blown wide. Mikey can just about hear the sound of the fight dulling down behind him.

“Me?!” Raph explodes. “You nearly got your brains bashed in— Leo! Don!”

Mikey scoffs as he gets to work on the bandage wrapping. His brother jerks around too much for it to be as tight as he wants but now that the fight was done, they could head home and he could make good of it there.

Leo and Donnie appear at his side, breathless and crowded with worry, Raph is quick to redirect their anxiety.

“Mike got his head conked,” Raph rats him out. His breaths are wheezy and shallow but Mikey puts it down to sheer excitement and adrenaline. “Like really conked.”

Leo looks like he’s ready to scold him, perhaps scold them both for getting themselves into such trouble, but Don hooks a hand under his arm and gives him a gentle, knowing tug.

“We should go,” he tells him. “It’s gonna be daylight in about an hour and we all know Raph is about as heavy as a horse when he’s hurt.”

Raph doesn’t take kindly to such an insult, but has to be carried home anyway, where Mikey tends to his wound and clears him of anything serious. He even slaps on a My Little Pony bandaid that’s totally useless to his injuries but gives him a good laugh anyway.

And then when Leo assesses his probable concussion with a flashlight shot into his eyes and gentle hands feeling around for any fractures creeping up around his skull, he wraps him up in a hug and tells him he’s proud.

“You did good today. Thank you.”

Mikey shrugs. “Raph was right. It was just a knick. Nothing too deep or serious.”

Leo just holds him tighter. “Doesn’t matter,” he says, breathing into the space where his neck meets his shoulder. “Thank you. For doing what you do so well.”

It had taken a long time for Mikey to stomach such a high amount of praise, practically solar opposiyes from his eldest brother, who soaked up words of affirmation like a damn sponge, Mike was finally able to find himself welcoming whatever confidence his brothers voiced about him.

He squeezes Leo back, even if it does knock the wind out of him a little, he lingers between his brother's arms a little longer. He knows he has a job to do. And he knows now that he does it well.

He smiles.

“No problem, bro.”

#tmnt fanfiction #tmnt fanfic #tmnt fic #tmnt 2012 #tmnt 2k12 #tmnt michelangelo #tmnt Raphael #ask #anon #fic prompts

[destinygoldenstar]

I just LOVE this detail in this trailer.

When Bubble literally comes out of Pomni’s mouth to ask “How can we support the production of this cool new show?”

Caine’s response is “Great question POMNI”

Even though Pomni was not the one who asked that question.

This could just be a gag of “Bubble is speaking for Pomni as they came out of her mouth” and I’m overthinking it. That’s probably what it is.

But I think Caine knows Pomni didn’t really ask that, he was just THAT enthusiastic about the promotion. It happened again at the start of the trailer when he ignored her response.

“Hey Pomni! Guess what?”

“No-“

“You’re right!”

And this is perfectly in character for Caine, as he constantly did this in the Pilot as well.

“We should have a brand new adventure for our new member, Pomni!”

“I said that like five minutes ago-“

-

“What do you think of XDDCC?”

“Uh-“

“You’re right, terrible! Let’s try that again!”

-

“Kaufmo abstracted?!! wHy DiDn’T aNyOnE tElL mE?!?”

I think this is such a great way of staying in character for both sides.

It would’ve been so easy to just have Pomni ask the question herself. But the writers knew that would’ve been OOC and Pomni would NEVER ask something like this.

None of the cast besides Caine and Bubble would honestly. The point is that none of them want to be here. And Pomni, despite being new, especially doesn’t want to be here. So they wouldn’t play along with Caine’s enthusiasm, ad or not.

But Caine being A.I, thinks that the humans would be, this plays along with a response that didn’t happen. Because HE finds it as entertaining as he makes it sound.

It’s more so a lack of awareness (how could he?) rather than intentionally silencing opposition. Opposition that he just thinks isn’t there.

Cause humans LOVE adventure, and ads, and merch sales, and internet porn-seriously why does that exist I hate the internet sometimes-

What I’m saying is that it’s showing that even in ads, these writers are getting the characters across really well.

I would say stuff like this makes me optimistic about the series, and… it does. But I’ll still cautiously optimistic.

Indie Animation just has it rough in writing skill in general and there’s multiple examples. That’s just cause writers in major corporations usually have to have several college degrees in the skill to get hired, and indie writers don’t have that burden and can jump right in so they’re often self taught. (But as a self taught writer myself for the most part, this is absolutely not meant to be slander. It’s not a bad thing if you know what you’re doing.)

So, you know, for all we know Digital Circus COULD tank in quality and end up as a trash fire with people complaining and whining forever about how great it ‘used to be’.

I hope that does not happen though and the writers at least are able to tell the story they want to tell effectively.

And so far, it seems like they are. As stuff like this shows that they are taking their time to flesh out the story the way they want to with how long the episodes are coming out, which I personally LIKE, as that means the steak can be fully cooked. And the news that the scripts for the whole series was written before the animations even started IS a good sign, which also means fan demand isn’t gonna plague the script and they’re gonna do what they want, which again, I personally think that’s a GOOD SIGN.

Cautious Optimism on my end. And details like this do emphasize that.

#digital circus #the amazing digital circus #amazing digital circus #tadc pomni #tadc caine #tadc bubble