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aesthetic-bbyg · 6 months

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SORRY NOT SORRY ~ Sanji

sanji x fem!reader

IN WHICH some guy poor attempt at flirting with you, in front of your man, backfires.

Nattie speaks: Another Sanji fic, what can I sayyyyy😋

WALKING INTO THE BAR YOU knew that someone would come up to you. It wasn’t like it was rare, a pretty lady entering any premises gives men the idea that she must be approached. Even if there was another man trailing behind, they still have the drunken confidence to come over and shoot gross comments. In your case, it was Sanji who entered after you, though he wasn’t just any other man, but you’re husband. You had the shimmering Diamond on your left hand to prove it. His hand was clasped in yours, large smiles still on your faces after sneaking away from the Going Merry for some time alone.

Immediately, you noticed how crowded it was, it seemed to be a particularly busy night. So much for time alone. Drunken bodies everywhere, perverted gazes burning right through you as sat down on a old barstool. Your hands clasped themselves in front of you, laying gently on the wood. Sanji took the seat right next yours, his large hand finding it’s place on your lower back. He looked at you, and you looked at him, seeing the love and admiration swirl his eyes was enough to have you blushing.

Entering the Baratie was one of the best decisions you’ve ever made because it lead to the life you had now. It was easy falling for Sanji, with his flirty comments sliding it’s way into your heart and his charming looks to back it up, how could you not? Despite your confidence with living in a world without a man and the fun it was being single, the thought of marriage with Sanji was something you didn’t stop to think about. You just knew, it was like you were made for him, destined to be his wife. The man could cook, for god sake, it was already enough to get you down on your knees and sucking on his cock as a tip for your meal. But the way he treated you was so much more better, truly you couldn’t think of another man like him. You never had the worry of infidelity from him, or him treating you wrong, never. You had such a strong trust for Sanji, if he told you that he could bring you all the stars, you’d believe him.

“Nice to escape the ship for a while, hmm?” Sanji asked quietly, rubbing a smoothing thumb along the clothed skin of your back.

You nodded in agreement, resting your elbow against the bar, supporting your head onto the palm of your hand. “Nice to have you to myself for a change.” You chuckled softly, “As much as I adore Luffy, his appetite is ridiculous.”

Sanji laughed, subtly flipping the loose pieces of blonde hair that covered his face. “I don’t mind, but I do miss having you to myself.” He squeezed the flesh of you side, smirking a bit as he stared into your eyes. You knew exactly what he meant. “How ‘bout you stay in the kitchen after hours?”

With such a tempting offer and the already growing arousal in you stomach, you couldn’t help but smile. Soon, the bartender approached opening his mouth to speak, “A martini.” You said before he could even utter a word, he nodded, stepping back as you tapped your fingers against the wood. Sanji decided to skip on drinking, not wanting to be intoxicated before dinner preparation. “Boring.” You mumbled, rolling your eyes. “I like it when your drunk.”

“You only like it ‘cause I absolutely embarrass myself and it gives you another thing to laugh at me about.” The blonde quipped back, making you chuckle, he was partially correct. You didn’t think he was embarrassing himself, you just thought he was…messy.

“Oh, c’mon, I like seeing you get naked.” You giggled, making Sanji blush and roll his own blue eyes. “That’s my favorite part.” The man had a bad habit of stripping down to his boxers whenever he was drunk around you. Slurred words claiming that your ‘hotness’ warmed up the room. “But I also like it when you start crying and start confessing you’re love to me as if we aren’t married.”

Sanji winced at the memory, remembering only the extreme headache and nausea from the next morning. It wasn’t until he recovered from his hangover and asked you the events of the night before that you told him. The intoxicated man had took you to a private area of the ship, bawling his eyes out and saying that he couldn’t keep living a lie. At first it terrified you, but when he began confessing his love and need for you it took so much control to hold back the laugh itching the back of your throat.

“Don’t even mention it.” He muttered with a quiet laugh, moving to rub a soothing hand on the warm skin of your thighs.

“A martini.” The bartender slid the shimmering glass towards you, the foggy liquid making you smile.

“Thank you.” You plucked the toothpick that held the olives, biting one and humming contently. “You’re truly missing out, Sanj.”

“I’m alright here, love.” He replied, watching you lightly sip and scrunch your face at the bitter zest the drink had to its flavor.

“Not even a taste?” You offered the drink, swirling around the olives, “It’s very good.”

He shrugged, a smirk building on his face. “Just a taste.” You smiled, pushing the glass in his direction before he leaned in, hands cupping your cheeks as his tongue intruded your mouth. You hummed, kissing him back desperately, enjoying the way his pink muscle explored you. “Not bad.” He mumbled, pulling away. “But I’ll still have to pass.”

You chuckle, wiping the saliva from the edge of your lips, “How long ‘til you think they find us?” You asked suggestively with a raise of your brow.

“I’ll give it a good twenty minutes.” Sanji replied, fiddling with the wedding band on his own finger. “Best use the bathroom here before we go back to using a bucket.” He stood from his spot, planting a kiss on the side of your head before walking towards the back of the place. He disappeared into the crowd, piles of bodies making him blend in within an instant.

You continued sipping your drink, feeling it burn your throat but satisfy your taste buds, you could practically feel the alcohol in your veins. Though, there was moments where you wish you were already drunk, like the moment that a man seat right in Sanji’s spot. He held a crooked smile, reeked of rum, and had disheveled hair.

“Well, what a pretty lady we got here.” He said, a beer bottle in his grip. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

You sighed heavily, turning to him with a glare. “Not one that you’ll be remembering anytime soon.”

“Feisty, I like it.” He chuckled, hiccuping and holding back a belch. “You’re gorgeous.”

“I know.”

He let out another gross chuckle, his breath stinking of old fish, you sipped at your drinks hoping that the alcohol would neutralize the stench. He licked his lips, looking at you up and down, hooded eyes undressing you, and you fucking hated it. “Well, pretty lady, how ‘bout I offer you a drink.”

“No.” You replied, turning back to look straight ahead, focusing on something other then his babbling go keep you distracted.

“How ‘bout a trip back to mine.” He slowly stood from his seat, getting closer to you, the proximity made you cringe. You nearly puked when his hand rested on your thigh.

Your eyes flashed up, catching sight Sanji as he exited the bathroom. His own eyes met yours, taking notice of man in front of you and the expression on your face. He was already pushing past people to get to you but you remained emotionless.

“Sorry.” You pried his hand off your thigh, chugging down whatever was left of the strong drink, wiping the liquid as it dripped down side of your chin. You looked him up and down, taking in his round form, “I’m not into short guys.” You pushed yourself off the bar and shoving past him towards Sanji, who just watched.

The one thing he understood most about you was how capable you were of protecting yourself. How you’re able to outsmart your way out of a situation, or insult your way out, all with a pretty smile on your lips. The drunken man stared at your figure as you walked away, eyes widening at the sight of a much taller man glaring at him. Sanji’s lips quirked up into a smirk as he took your hand, kissing it softly while never breaking away. The anger now replaced with nervousness, he scurried away from his spot and into the booming crowd of people.

Sanji let out a chuckle, walking with you to the exit of the bar, where Usopp was coincidentally, entering. The sharp-shooter sighed in relief at the sight of the two of you, rushing out an explanation about how Luffy is ‘dying’ of hunger. Sanji’s assistance was needed urgently, having to cure the boy before his whines of starvation killed everyone else on the ship.

One dinner was served, you did stay back to help clean, watching as each crew member headed into their rooms. You indeed stayed after hours, many hours after.

Will forever live laugh and love our fav Chef simp. Did y’all get the Jennifer Tilly reference??🤞

AHHHHHHHHHH

#one piece #one piece live action #one piece show #vinsmoke sanji x reader #Sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji #black leg sanji #Sanji #opla sanji #sanji x you #Jennifer Tilly #taz skylar #my man

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muddyorbsblr · 11 months

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a sizing mishap

See my full list of works here!

This story (and in turn this entire collection) wouldn't have happened if I weren't inspired by this comment from the amazing @lokischambermaid. Thank you for the thot!! 💖🫡

Summary: You hand Player #6 his uniform but it's the wrong size…

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: 18+ | smut-ish at the end (minors & pearl clutchers, don't try me. not today); language; side-eye worthy behavior from less than minor character at the beginning [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: trust the process, and let me know if you caught on to the hints 😉

It was slowly and surely getting a touch too stuffy in this tiny room you were stationed in for the day. You knew that it was the misfortune that would befall the newbie on the crew but it didn't ease your frustration any. No amount of guzzled water or time spent holding your handheld fan down your shirt could help the fact that the entire room felt like you were slowly being cooked sous vide.

And as if your predicament wasn't uncomfortable and mentally taxing enough, you had to do an inordinate amount of moving about from scouring through the piles of jerseys and shorts to hand off to the various players because most of them hadn't even bothered to fill out the order forms with their size weeks prior to today. To make things even more interesting, some of the men thought themselves charmers and attempted to flirt with you while you were already under enough undue stress.

Your therapist was definitely going to hear about your exchange with that former tatted up boybander who answered your question of "Size, Sir?" with an overconfident "More than big enough for you, luv."

At least you were proud of your deadpanned response of "Somehow I highly doubt that" that made him grumble out his actual answer of "Medium". Another uninterested look that carefully examined his torso and legs and you made the executive decision to hand him some sets in a size XS instead.

"This isn't a Medium. Can you even read?" he snapped at you, waving the uniforms in his clenched fist.

"It's your size, sir," you shot back, your tone still deadpanned and unwavering despite the temper he was showcasing. "If you don't believe me you're more than free to try it on behind that curtain there. If I'm wrong then I will gladly assist you and hand you a set in the next size up."

It only took a few minutes for him to stomp behind the curtain, try on the uniform, and then stomp all the way out of the tiny room without another word. Guess you handed him the correct size after all.

You had a few minutes to breathe after that first wave of players walked through, allowing you to prepare yourself for the sweat-inducing task of moving about the piles once again when the next batch came in and told you they didn't input their sizes, either. At this point, you jokingly told yourself that you'd outright kiss the first one who actually had a size next to their name on the sheet.

"Name?" you called out when you heard the door open again, already facing the surplus of extra unlabeled uniforms to thumb through the piles.

"Douglas," the woman answered, chuckling when you let out a sigh of relief finding a size next to her name on the chart. "I take it some of my teammates didn't give you their sizes in the form?"

"Try nearly all of them so far," you huffed to confirm. "It's been so bad that I was telling myself that I'd kiss the first person who actually had a size next to their name on this damn thing." You waved the printed papers of the chart around to punctuate your point, making her laugh at the absurdity of it all.

"Well I think you'd be better off saving that promise for the one coming after me, assuming that he filled out the sizing form. Trust me, you'll probably want to pass on lil ol' me. Then again he might not be up for it considering he does have a very pretty lass that--come to think of it, from what I know about her, kind of looks like you…?"

"Now I'm intrigued," you teased, turning around to the comparatively small pile of labeled uniforms and handed her the one with "DOUGLAS" written on the top. "There you go. Good luck out there."

"Thanks. And good luck to you too it's like a brazen bull in here, bloody fuck."

You waved her off, already holding your tiny fan down your shirt again and just trying to take deep, slow breaths to try and lower your body temperature somewhat. The sound of the door opening again nearly had you whining to any deity listening to give you at least fifteen minutes to cool down before having to deal with another conveniently forgetful soul. "Name?" you all but sighed out.

The effort it took for you to fight back a face splitting grin at the name and buttery smooth voice that reached your ears should have gotten you some form of accolade in the realm of sheer Herculean level restraint. "Hiddleston."

You perused the charts, pursing your lips to keep yourself stoic upon seeing that the field beside his name was, in fact, not blank. "Just a moment, Sir." There was a very faint mumbling coming from the towering man a few feet from you while you retrieved his uniforms from the pile of labeled bundles, an expression nearly as stoic as your own on his face when you handed him the parcel. "There you go."

He gave you a soft smile, holding you captive in an oceanic gaze that you had to practically pry yourself away from and at least pretend to busy yourself with the paperwork on the little desk.

Suddenly all the bravado you had facing all those hubristic men from earlier melted away, as if karma had literally deflated it out of you as some warped retaliation for your earlier behavior. He didn't even have to do fuck all anything and you could feel your pulse skyrocketing and your body overheating that had nothing to do with the current climate of the even more seemingly cramped and overcrowded room.

But then he spoke.

"Erm…I truly hate to be a bother but…this isn't the correct size."

Your eyes snapped up to meet his, showing him your visible shock. "That--That can't be. This came straight from the suppliers, they're the ones that labeled these all."

"I understand that but…these are a size Small. I distinctly remember leaving instructions for y--For my partner to input a Medium."

Another look through the chart had the hairs on the back of your neck standing up. "It…it says Small," you choked out, visibly struggling to meet his eyes again. "I'm--I'm so sorry, let me see what I can do, I'll make a few calls and-and--"

"No no no, hey hey…" he called out, placing the parcel back on the table before placing his hands on your arms in a gentle hold. "Calm down. It's alright, just breathe." He started running his hands up and down your arms, the motion calming you almost instantly, before sneaking a glance at your little nameplate on the table. "Y/N, just breathe for me, sw--Breathe for me, alright?"

The motions of his hands began to guide you through your breathing, feeling your racing pulse begin to mellow down. "I'm--really sorry about that, it's just I'm new here and this is gonna get me in some serious trouble if I end up fumbling and blundering like--"

"You're going to be alright, it's not that big of a deal, really," he told you in a reassuring tone, squeezing your shoulders lightly before letting go and picking up his jerseys and shorts again. "It's only one size down, I'll make it fit." His free hand twitched toward you briefly, some bizarre part of you instinctively itching to reach for him in turn, but your more rational mind decided against it and sat back on your little seat.

"There's something off about you," you rambled, shuffling the papers of the chart once more and reaching for a pen. "You're way too understanding and mild-mannered for this industry."

He hesitated before taking the pen from you, holding your hand in his as he asked, "Would you mind if I tried it on? Just to be sure." There was the slightest twitch in his eye, as if he was about to wink before he made the split second decision not to, and all you could do at that moment was look up at him with the most foolishly dumbstruck look on your face.

"N-Not at all. Go--Go right ahead, there's a curtain over--Ohh okay then that…works…too," you mumbled to near incoherence as he proceeded to undo the buttons on his thicker overshirt, shrugging the garment onto the floor before giving his light blue button down the same treatment.

Get a hold of yourself. Pick your jaw off the ground you're embarrassing yourself, you hissed inwardly, reminding yourself that you were about to be in the presence of a lot of shirtless men this entire weekend throughout all the practices and promotional events, not to mention the game itself on Sunday. But none of those guys look like this. Look like a literal god among men.

All the while he never broke eye contact with you, holding you hostage in a stormy gaze as if daring you to look away while he effortlessly pierced through the plastic that contained the jerseys. You did your best not to fixate your eyes on the sinewy, well-defined muscles that were moving fluidly with every minute movement of his hands, holding his gaze with all the confidence you could muster.

He made a show of unfolding the shirt in slow, deliberate movements, the corner of his mouth twitching upward in a smirk when he noted the visible movement of your neck from a strained effort in swallowing and calming yourself. It was only then that he put the shirt over his head in one fluid motion, the fabric stretching taut across his chest and threatening to burst at even the most minute flex of muscle.

The internet is about to have a field day and I am about to get kicked out of this committee, you thought to yourself. And on your first year, no less. You should've known it was a bad idea to agree to the invitation just because your boyfriend encouraged you to.

"It's not too bad, is it?" He swung his arms around to test his range of motion, before raising his hands above his head in a stretch, causing the borderline illegally tight fabric to ride up on his abdomen, exposing his lower stomach.

You could barely hold in your composure as you choked out, "It looks…manageable." You held out your pen in his direction again. "You just uhm…need to sign on the chart."

He approached you with a certain sway to his step that vaguely reminded you of a wolf stealthily assessing its prey, fingers slowly brushing across your skin as he took the pen from your hand and uncapped the pen by placing the cap between his teeth. When he finished signing his name on the chart, his eyes never left yours as he recapped the pen and placed it back into your hand, his large palm engulfing your entire hand in a warmth you couldn't even bother to complain about despite the stale humid air of the room.

"There you are, darling," he rasped. "No harm done. You won't get into any trouble with your superiors because of me, don't you worry your lovely little head." You watched with bated breath as he turned around and bent at the waist to pick up the discarded shirts, putting that ass that the internet shamelessly thirsts over and stares at for hours on end mere feet before your naked eyes.

I have no idea if my job is cursed or if it might just be the best thing that ever happened to me, you thought helplessly to yourself, watching as he stood back upright and turned again to face you, giving you a small wave as he exited the room.

You fought the urge to hold your tiny fan down your pants after that exchange.

The sound of your phone chiming with a new message brought you out of your stupor, a smile finding its way onto your face as soon as you saw your boyfriend's name on the screen.

"Are you alright? Have you eaten since you got there? Make sure you're drinking lots of water, I hear it's going to be sweltering today. I love you and I miss you already, goddess."

Just the mere thought of how he'd taken the time to type out the message despite how busy you knew he was had you biting your lip to try even slightly to prevent yourself from letting out a stream of giggles like you were back in school all over again. You could feel the ache in your heart as you began to feel your own yearning beginning to intensify after his message.

"I just have a few more people to hand off their uniforms to and then I'll go get some food. Thank you for checking in on me. I love you and I miss you more than you know."

The rest of the day was thankfully a bit more merciful towards you. Once you'd handed out all the uniforms and put all the surplus jerseys and shorts into a merch pile for audience members to purchase before entering the stadium proper and perhaps have the players sign at the end of the game, the hours up until training was over were spent outdoors coordinating with press photographers, making sure that security was on peak alertness in case anyone managed to sneak through the cracks, and confirming that everything was in place for some hot sauce challenge that would take place tomorrow.

You also made a note to take one of those bottles home since you were running low. Only if you could, of course.

When the fields were empty and you were locking down the press room for the night, you heard someone walk into the otherwise quiet room. "I had the most interesting conversation with some of the other players today." The sound of the man's rich, velvety voice had your heart violently pounding in your chest. "About you."

You took a few steadying breaths before you addressed your unexpected visitor, your back still turned to him as you finished writing down the names on the media passes for tomorrow morning. "And what is it that I can do for you, Mr. Hiddleston?"

The sound of his footsteps slowly approaching you had a thrill running up your spine, making you abruptly stand to attention when you felt large hands rest on your waist. "One of them told me about how you were tempted to…what was it again? Ah yes…you said something about kissing the first player that actually had their size on the chart?" You bit back a smile, looking out the window to double check that nobody was lurking and trying to peer into the room as he wrapped his arms around your waist. "Now Douglas told me that allegedly it was her, and she passed it on to whoever came next. And if memory serves me right…I believe that would mean that immensely fortunate player was…myself."

He'd leaned in so close at this point that his lips were grazing the shell of your ear. "This is highly unprofessional," you mumbled, barely able to contain your smile now.

"I don't care. I've been thinking about you all day." Fingers ghosted up the length of your spine while his nose traced a line from the shell of your ear down to a very specific weak spot on the juncture between your neck and shoulder. You went nearly limp in his hold the second you felt him press a soft kiss to that same spot, his free hand deftly undoing the ribbon you had holding your hair up before weaving his fingers through your hair. "Take this as me officially breaking character. I've missed you, goddess."

The groan he let out against your skin turned you into putty in your boyfriend's arms. "One day," you giggled out. "You lasted barely one day."

Over the last few years since you'd gotten together, whenever you were both signed on to a project, you tried to commit to this bit of "staying private and professional" throughout the course of the project, so as to not draw too much attention to the fact that you were involved. It had come to the point where it collectively slipped the mind of the general public that you two were actually still, in fact, happily together and borderline maddeningly in love. And it also granted you both a comfortable enough sense of privacy, which you were immensely grateful for and neither of you ever dared take for granted.

On previous projects, he would 'break character' within the course of a few hours, and you had a feeling that the only reason it took him nearly a day this time around was that you two weren't around each other as much due to him practicing for the game, and you running around the entire facility.

"I have to be honest, though," you started, letting out a squeal as he abruptly turned you around in his arms to face him, pulling your body flush against his. "For a second there I thought this would be a first and I would break character. This afternoon." It was a good thing that he was currently holding you upright with the way he was looking at you through hooded eyes, his chest heaving through that one size too gloriously small shirt; if you were left to stand on your own, your knees would've buckled the second he touched you. "If you kept up that goddamn striptease for even two more seconds I might have caved."

He smirked at you when you a tiny yelp slipped through your lips as he placed his hands on the backs of your thighs and easily lifted you into his arms. "I'll have to try a bit harder next time," he whispered, walking until you felt your back make contact with the wall. "I believe you owe me a kiss, sweetheart."

You crossed your hands behind his neck, leaning in to give him the quickest peck to his lips. "There you are," you teased, letting out a stream of giggles against his lips when he grabbed the back of your head and pressed you against the wall before pulling you in for a deeper kiss. He let out a desperate sounding moan into your mouth as his arm around you tightened and his fingers tangled into your hair. As if he couldn't possibly get enough of you. Or as if you hadn't seen each other for months.

"Where are you staying?" he rasped when he pulled away, resting his forehead against yours as you both caught your breath.

"I have a room that I'm sharing with 2 more members from the committee--"

"That won't do," he cut you off, pressing his lips to your jaw and kissing a trail down your neck. "You're staying with me. I already despise the mornings that I wake up away from you, it's cruel and unusual punishment if I go to sleep tonight alone knowing full well that you're here in another room." You stifled a moan when he proceeded to suck a bruise onto your neck, already anticipating the questions from your fellow committee members in the morning when they catch sight of it.

"I uhh--ohh fuck--I'll need to get my things," you stammered, leaning your head back and arching into his kiss to expose more of your neck to him. "My clothes--"

"You won't need them, darling," he retorted, smirking against your skin when you let out a squeak trying to feign protest against his words. "Say yes," he pleaded between kisses. "Stay with me." He kissed his way up to the corner of your mouth. "Don't deny me the simplest joy of getting to wake up with you in my arms."

Those were the words that did you in. "Okay, okay yes," you breathed out, your moan muffled by him once again capturing your lips in a kiss that threatened to steal you of every last breath you had left.

Neither of you seemed to care in the slightest if you crossed paths with anyone on your way to his suite, Tom adorably refusing to let your feet touch the ground as he carried you down the halls. "There was one more thing that some of the players mentioned…Something about you being able to assess their sizes and giving them their correct fitting instead of the size that they told you they were?"

Dammit, the boybander told on me, you grumbled to yourself, meeting your boyfriend's gaze with your worst attempt at an innocent smile. "Aaaand…what about it?"

"You've known my measurements since they sent in the roster form," he started with a knowing smirk, causing you to purse your lips and basically out yourself that you knew exactly where he was going with this.

"I did…"

"Did you intentionally input the wrong size?"

Biting your lip before letting out a fit of near uncontrollable giggles told him more than a spoken admission ever could. "I might have…"

"And I would also be right to assume you had everything to do with the swapped out trousers in my bag?"

Your giggles got louder, practically giving the entire floor a homing beacon signal to where you were, take one look at your current positions, and give them a vivid idea of what type of noises they would expect to hear throughout the night.

"I had to do it," you managed to say between laughs. "For Tumblr."

You held on to him a bit tighter when he went to unlock his door, pressing the keycard to the scanner and balancing you on a single arm, and giving him the perfect opportunity to kiss yet another particularly sensitive spot behind your ear. He let out a seductively dark chuckle against your skin when your giggles had morphed into moans.

"Naughty little goddess," he rasped, tracing his lips along your shirt's neckline as he laid you down on the bed and then proceeding to kiss a path down your clothed torso until he reached the hem of your shirt. His hands traveled up your body, working the fabric up and over your head, kissing and licking and biting at a leisurely pace at every sliver of skin that was exposed to him.

Once the shirt was up to your raised hands, he hovered his face above yours, capturing your lips in another languid, decadent kiss that had you sighing against him as a warm contentment washed over you. You'd only realized now how much you actually missed him since having to leave your home yesterday to come here and begin preparations with the rest of the committee. All day you were so caught up with finalizing every meticulous detail you had control over it was almost like your mind didn't allow you to feel how much you were yearning.

"What am I going to do with you, my darling little menace?" he murmured against your lips, your combined moans filling the room as he licked into your mouth, your tongues meeting in a tangle long practiced and perfected over the years. You quickly tossed your shirt aside to free your hands and pull him closer, giving him the perfect leeway to unclasp your bra.

"Whatever you want," you gasped once you both pulled away, the silliest grins on both your faces as your hands fumbled for the hem of his jersey. "I love you and I've missed you more than you know."

"Shouldn't have said that, my love," he growled, pushing you back down on the bed so that your back was flat against the mattress, a near filthy moan escaping you when he hooked your legs around him and rolled his hips into yours. "There's a lot of pent up energy in me." He proceeded to summarize what he'd spent the day doing, punctuating each item with a thrust of his hips. "Running." Thrust. "Dribbles." Thrust. "Shooting drills." Thrust. "Endorphins are running amok. You understand, don't you, darling?"

"Let me repeat myself," you said breathlessly, crossing your ankles and pulling his hips to yours and making him let out the most delicious stuttered moan. "You can do whatever you want."

A/N: Suddenly those reblogs I did of 'one look and they'll know' are making sense, huh? 😉😈 Welcome to the Soccer Aid 2023 Hiddles collection! As of writing this Author's Note, there are going to be 5 stories in this collection, the next one being 'a tale of ice baths and hot sauce' which covers the Elementals challenge video, and I'm already working on it as we speak. 🫠

everything taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @unlucky-number-13 @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-zie @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @sarahscribbles @kats72 @kikster606 @evelyn-kingsley @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th @lovelysizzlingbluebird @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @dangertoozmanykids101 @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @anukulee

#tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x female reader #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston imagine #muddyorbs writes

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olderthannetfic · 9 months

Note

As someone who's college age: yeah, there's a TON of people my age who don't know how things work and don't try to learn. Can't unzip a zip file, want to know where to download anime but haven't tried looking it up, ask things on subreddits a Google search or quick search on the wiki would answer, ask questions answered in FAQs or by professors or in the syllabus, say they can't download and install a new browser or app or program because they don't know how and they never think to look up how to do so, go months without logging into their student email because no one explained to them how to do so and they never thought to ask anyone how to do it, go months without washing their laundry because they don't know how and they also don't know how to look up instructions on how to do it, don't know how to cook and can't Google a recipe so they throw things in a pan and pray it works out, don't understand how to back up files, don't know how to attach a pdf to an email to send to a professor, cannot manage to put stuff on a USB drive + go to the library + print it off of the library computer, etc.

I spent most of freshman year teaching people things. The year after, my patience got more frayed and "Google it" started coming out of my mouth a lot more. This last year I gave up and now if people fuck themselves over, that's their decision. I'm not going to stand there begging people to do basic things they should already know how to do.

It was really funny when someone from Career Services came to talk to us about resumes and said we didn't need to put down 'can use Microsoft Excel' on there because everyone knew that and all but three people said actually no, they didn't. People who are 40+ really think we're all good at tech by default, like we fall out of the womb clutching a little phone already making spreadsheets in Excel or coding computers or whatever.

Meanwhile in reality you see a ton of people posting on tumblr going, "How do I post fic on tumblr?" whose blogs proudly state that they're under 18. The thought that you could just type into a Word doc and then copy and paste onto here never hits. And it's not going to.

I hate to break it to millennials and older people but yeah, actually, my generation does in fact have morons. We're not a moron-free demographic. I'm pretty sure moron-free demographics don't exist, tbh.

It infuriates me that my father (in his 80s) is always saying to me that he needs to find a 12-year-old to explain his tech to him. I (40s) keep telling him it's more like a bell curve or something. We had a blip of people being taught in school or having their asses kicked about technology. But then it went away again.

I think we made computers and then phones much more accessible, which is great, but we forgot we still need to teach people things. I know not everyone got explicit instruction in school even in my era, but it seems like the US, at least, phased some of that out as we started assuming The Youth automatically knew it all.

That said... in my day, college freshmen were also terrible about doing their laundry, so some things never change.

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sillypiratelife · 4 months

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Falling for zosan and namivivi because I am a sucker for parallels and relationships that are not what people would expect of them.

For example, I prefer when Zoro and Sanji don't get together because they are sexually attracted to each other, but because there is literally no real reason forcing them together but they choose to be together either way.

Why do they fight? Why each other?

There's nothing about fate or blind love in there.

Loving Sanji is a decision for Zoro. He picks Sanji. He decides he wants to tease Sanji and fight with him and offer to Sanji those parts of himself that no one else has seen. Zoro loves deliberately, with all his being. He knows what he's getting into and he accepts it, a promise made to last forever. He did the same with Kuina and Luffy, so it doesn't make sense to me to have a version of Zoro that loves romantically 'cause there's no other option. Remember when he preferred to die over denying his ambitions? Or all the times he has sacrificed himself expecting nothing in return? Or the fact he is praised for following no one he doesn't want to and nothing but what pleases him?

And Sanji can only choose to love Zoro. It'd be a fight with his traumas and the persona he created to keep the hurt at bay, you know, "the romantic cook that loves and lusts for women". It wouldn't be fair or pretty either if Sanji was forced into it. I'm not saying he can't be sexually attracted to Zoro —and I must clarify, for me Zoro is fully on the asexual spectrum— but ultimately, I think that Sanji would never dive on it if not fully conscious about what it entails. Sanji has a lot of issues he must start working on before involving himself in anything romantic or sexual with a man. It's the guilt? The shame? The way he represses himself and denies himself happiness? The way he thinks he needs to fake an easygoing persona so that others wouldn't worry? The self-loathing? Zoro sacrifices himself because that's his duty and he knows himself and his wishes— he'd die to be the best swordman and he'd die for Luffy to be the pirate king and he'd die for his crew. He doesn't wish death, tho. Sanji? His self-sacrificing is born out of suffering and self-deprecation. Loving Zoro would be a choice, no doubt.

With Nami and Vivi, it's that the circumstances make them perfect for each other, just to later keep them apart.

Vivi and Nami fit together. It took Nami one single night and she knew she'd sacrifice anything— that they would sacrifice anything to help Vivi. Nami saw her own fear and loneliness and guilt and desperation reflected in the way Vivi made her lip bleed from her bite while the Igaram ship was on fire. They were "cursed" to survive. To fight and struggle and survive, because no one else could face Arlong or Crocodile. Little girls —kids, then teenagers— sailing to a world of crime where they got claimed by the organizations they hated the most, the one they wanted to tear down because they were hurting their home. Young attractive teen girls who turned their bodies into weapons to distract and surprise their enemies so they could have a chance to defeat them.

Girls who know what it's like to smile when you want to break down, what it's like to kneel out of frustration and scream and feel useless helpless.

The strawhat girls were to fucking hell as mere children and got out of there walking, okay?

What allowed the princess and the burglar to find companionship within the other were those things like the trauma of being the only one who could reclaim back their home or the fear of being alone against a situation bigger than themselves. Being honest, I'm not sure if they'd have clicked without it. In the end it's a bit funny, isn't it? Alabasta is the reason Vivi met the strawhats and the reason why she can't sail to go on adventures with them. In fulfilling the promise of saving Alabasta, Nami made it so that Vivi wouldn't be able to leave with them. Well, she could, but not really. Vivi is a good princess and she wouldn't abandon her people = her country.

Vivi suffered for being a rich princess, but saved herself + her people 'cause they underestimated how influential and powerful she could be. On the other hand, Nami suffered for being a poor no one first, then for being too important for Arlong to discard, yet they never expected that Nami would have so many people willing to fight for her.

Like a moth to flame, a girl reflected on water.

Vivi and Nami are an echo of each other, one that rings clear and true across the seas. For me, there could be no one else for them. Who else would get it? Who else could understand what they can't explain? What they've lived through? Who held Vivi and swore it'd be okay that night at Whiskey Peak? Who took care of Nami when she was at death's door with fever for days? All the moments become a giant picture with them at the center of it. There's no one else. It couldn't be.

#zoro and luffy are queerplatonic to me and they deserve their own posts #no romantic no platonic but a secret third option (an aroace relationship between a captain and his first mate)#ANYWAY #shan blogs about one piece!#one piece anime #roronoa zoro #black leg sanji #zosan #one piece nami #cat burglar nami #vivi nefertari #namivivi #vivinami

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not-goldy · 5 months

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Letter lyrics hitting me hard in the face right now & make even more sense now. "Don't worry, just stay by my side. We don’t know what the future holds. And that’s scary and makes us afraid, But don’t forget that we’re always together." Jikook have probably had this enlistment together thought out for a long time. They're scared, but they know they have each other, even in their darkest days. My blood pressure cannot handle this.

Jikook would rather serve together, endure all the challenges & all the risks, then to be without EO. I don't have words, honestly. The first few weeks of training are the hardest. The training & adjustment to military life/schedule. It takes a toll on you mentally & Jikook chose EO to go through it with. They had options to do alone or even do with Tae, both of them did, but they chose EO. They did it to rely on EO for comfort And shippers who are mad, wanna downplay their decision & make excuses cause its not your ship that you were begging to enlist together. Sorry You can't. No excuses this time. If this is true & it really does happen I think a lot of people will slowly open their eyes to Jikook. This isn't something small, its a big life decision they made together, to be together, to serve together, even if its only for the first few weeks in the beginning (which are the hardest). They wanna get through the hard time together. Its either gonna break them having to watch each other go through all that horrendous stuff both mentally and physically or its gonna make them stronger or both. Jk's biggest challenge will be trying to not intervene. We see how Jk flinches if JM jumps up and sometimes jumps up with him on instinct. Resisting the urge to take over for JM if something is too hard, something Jk has done for years, but they'll get through it. They're professionals & knows the other can handle themselves.

Also, saying Jkk are making this out to be a honeymoon. FUCK YOU. This is what y'all were doing for months about your own ship and wanting them to enlist. Vmin shippers, minimoni shippers, Tkk & YM shippers. Wanna see the receipts, cause I got them. Actually, we crying, throwing up and fucking terrified for Jikook, even if they do go together. Unlike you all, we support two queer men who are going into an extremely homophobic environment with an already target on their back. Shame on you for not even mustering up enough love in your heart to support them the way deserve. You will be the ones to burn and rot and hell, not us. Your souls will never see heaven. I promise you. Just know Jikook's love, whatever type of love it is, outweighs your hate and there is nothing you can do about it.

Listen.... you are talking bout Jimin's lyrics.

This is Jungkook:

we'll survive the test of time

They can't deny our love

They can't divide us, we'll survive the test of time

I promise I'll be right here

Standing next to you

Standing in the fire next to you, oh

You know it's deeper than the rain

It's deeper than the pain

When it's deep like DNA

Something they can't take away, ayy

Take-take-take-take-take-take off

golden like the sun and the moon (you already know)

YES JUNGKOOK WE KNOW KILL US WITH THE SHIP STREET PARLANCE 💜 FINISH US MORTAL KOMBAT STYLE

HOLD MY WIG ANON

You don started something

Now I gotta cook. Hold on

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lovelikanroji · 9 months

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hii lovely, i don't have a request for your main blog atm, but i would like to hear your thoughts on my beloved son muichiro with a gender neutral older sibling!reader <33

i think it would be both very cute and very sad. maybe they're super protective of him because they feel like they failed as an older sibling by letting his brother die? maybe they feel like it's their fault? hehe feel free to do whatever you'd like with this idea, it's just a silly little thing i thought about, but haven't had the inspiration to actually write about! it's also totally alright if you don't feel inspired by it either 💕

⤷ pairing(s): muichiro x gn!reader (strictly platonic)

⤷ summary: Muichiro with an older sibling headcanons

⤷ warnings: me rambling for 1.3k words lmao, reader works alongside shinobu at the butterfly mansion, lowercase is intended, spoilers for demon slayer s3

⤷ note from author: i feel like i haven't written this much in such a short time in a hot minute

○ i think as the oldest sibling between yuichiro, muichiro and themselves, the reader would be very protective over their younger siblings

○ at the beginning it's more of you saving them from tripping and falling over but after your parents die, you start to do more as the eldest

○ you handle most of the chores, as well as cooking just to make sure your siblings can enjoy their childhoods a little longer.

○ of course they still help you with it but you try to finish them most of the time

○ the first time Amane-san mentions your lineage and invites you and your siblings to join the Demon Slayer Corps, you're hesitant to do so

○ not only because you don't believe in demons, but also because even if they were real, your siblings are just children and risking their lives to protect people should be the least of their worries

○ you politely decline her offer, and she nods in understanding

○ later that day muichiro begs you to reconsider, clearly happy that he comes from a strong demon slayer's line and excited to continue where his ancestor left off

○ before you can explain him why you made your decision, yuichiro begins berating him, creating a rift between the two of them

○ you do what you can to get them to talk to each other again but no matter what you say or do, neither of them will budge

○ one summer night, as you're laying down and trying to sleep, you hear muichiro gasp and turn to look at what happened only to see an unknown person in your home

○ the unknown figure raises his hand as if to attack, and you're not fast enough to stop yuichiro running up to the figure

○ you can do nothing but watch in horror as yuichiro's arm gets sliced off

○ in a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding, you tore off your clothes and hold it up to his arm, but it does absolutely nothing

○ the figure laughs at your clear panic and as you're trying to save yuichiros life, he strikes again, except this time his aim is at muichiro

○ you jump in front of him without thinking, crashing to the wall due to the blunt force the figure hit you with

○ muichiro brings yuichiro over to where you are, the figure close behind

○ you want to move in front of your siblings but all of your strength has left you, and your vision is getting blurry

○ you hold yuichiros other hand as you hear muichiro scream and attack the figure

○ the last thing you see after he comes back all bloodied is Amane-san, and then you let darkness take you

○ when you wake back up, the first thing you're asked is if you remember anything

○ you tell the man, Ubuyashiki, everything you remember, and immediately ask where your brothers are

○ the heartbroken look he gives you is answer enough

○ he explains how when his wife, Amane, had gotten there yuichiro was already dead, and muichiro was close although they were able to save him, and he was resting as you were

○ knowing that at least one of your brothers were alive should have made you feel better and yet all you felt was disappointment and rage, at yourself for not protecting your brothers, and at demons for hurting them in the first place

○ nichirin swords change colors when the holder gains a certain amount of skill on wielding it, but no matter how hard you train yours never changes colors, and you can only watch as your brother flies up ranks

○ shinobu offers you a job at the butterfly estate when she sees how heartbroken you are, and you accept, willing to do anything to help your brother in any means possible

○ she teaches you what she knows in medicine, and in turn you help with the chores around the estate as well as taking care of the residents and the injured slayers

○ you dont see your brother that often, and you're not sure if you're happy or sad about it. on one hand it means he isnt getting injured, but on the other you miss him terribly

○ shinobu is the one that tells you he became a hashira, and while you're happy for him you can't help but think how he's too young to be putting him in such danger

○ you hope this means you can see your brother more, but it turns out to be the opposite

○ being a hashira means getting more and harder jobs, which means muichiro is busier than before

○ as sad as you are, you continue working in the estate because if you allow yourself to think about the dangers, you feel yourself drowning in fear

○ the next time you see your brother you want to spend time with him as much as possible, so when that day comes you're shocked to your core when all he says is a simple "hi" and a "goodbye" once you're done patching him up

○ he leaves the estate without glancing your way, leaving you standing there with your heart shattered

○ amane-san had told you that he didn't remember what had happened, and his amnesia had changed his personality, but you weren't expecting it to be this severe

○ after your very brief reunion, you work even harder than before as a way to distract yourself from the pain

○ as much as it hurts for your own brother to not recognize you, you can't dwell on the thought for any longer

○ you believe in your brother, and his abilities to protect himself, so when you receive a crow from shinobu saying he was badly hurt, you start panicking

○ the second the kakushis bring him in, you start working on his injuries, as shinobu removes the poison from his body with ease

○ he's unconscious the whole time, but right as you're about to leave his side to bring him cold water and a rag to lower his temperature, you feel his hand hold yours

○ you turn around to ask if he needs anything, but he beats you to it

○ "i'm sorry," he says. "don't leave."

○ you're not sure why he's apologizing, but you sit down near his bed right after putting the wet rag on his forehead anyway

○ you're up and doting when he starts stirring, and the first thing you ask when he wakes up is if he's okay

○ before he can answer you start checking up on his injuries, rambling about how glad you were that he was alive and well

○ muichiro keeps trying to speak but you, being scared of his answer, keep interrupting him

○ this goes on for a while until your brother gets up abruptly, takes your hands in his, and tells you to listen to him

○ the first thing he does is apologize, and before you can say anything he shushes you and continues his speech

○ he tells you he's sorry for the way he behaved, for not spending time with you and most of all for forgetting everything and everyone dear to him, which you're quick to deny

○ you in return tell him that it most definitely was not his fault, and that you were happy his memories were back

○ after that he tells you he'll be more careful on his missions, and promises that he'll visit more often

○ after his injuries are all healed and he's going off to yet another mission, you're left with a sense of joy instead of dread, and you hum to yourself as you pick up your chores while you wait for your brother to return

while i think it would be sweet of muichiro to remember their sibling, i also believe he wouldn't as he doesn't remember anything that's related to his past.

#mui.writes #muichiro x platonic reader #demon slayer x platonic reader #muichiro x reader #demon slayer x reader #kny x reader #kny x platonic reader #yes i went with the “he wakes up as youre leaving the room” route #also apparently you can have a fever after being poisoned i checked #i struggle with dialouges sm can you tell #also you can clearly tell when i got tired lmao

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lambertdiary · 7 months

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hello 💞 first i wanna say i love your fanfics so much and i'm literally obsessed with Dalton and i wanted to request something

can you write one where reader and Dalton move off campus together and so they finally spend all day together and its like really sweet how they get used to being with each other all the time and build cute habits

idk if it made sense but thank you if you do write it !

A/N: heyy thank you so much for your kind words and for the lovely request!! I’m not sure if this is exactly what you requested but I hope you like it <3 Also I wanna start by saying I’m not entirely sure how off-campus housing actually works in the USA, so i just went from a little bit of my personal experience, sorry if it’s not accurate! Please let me know what you think 🤍

Word Count: 1.5k+

Warnings: mention of showering together (not in a sexual way), pure fluff, extremely cheesy stuff

MASTERLIST ✩ SEND ME A REQUEST

Domestic Love

Y/N and Dalton were finally able to move off-campus. They started talking about it kind of early in their relationship, craving the privacy that college dorm life lacked, and after discussing it for a while they eventually started looking for a flat.

Y/N had a part time job and a little help from her parents, and Dalton was managing to sell a few of his art pieces, with the support of professor Armagan who constantly encouraged her students to put themselves out there. It would be way more affordable anyway, and overall the best decision, so after finding a place they both liked they went for it.

It wasn’t the biggest flat, but they had everything they could possibly need. A bed, a kitchen, a bathroom and most importantly, each other.

“Is that the last box?” Dalton asked her, taking it from her hands and setting it next to the door.

They didn’t have that many things to move with them, just their personal belongings, other essentials they had to buy and a few boxes their parents sent them to help with their new independent lifestyle.

“Yes” She replied, collapsing on the couch “Although we might need to get more pans and stuff if we actually wanna start cooking”

Dalton collapsed next to her, immediately pulling her in for a hug “We will, but right now let’s just enjoy this”

Adapting was as easy as they expected, the only thing that annoyed them at first was transportation and getting to their classes on time, but once they adjusted to that there wasn’t a single thing they could complain about.

Y/N was especially excited to decorate their own space, weeks in advance before moving into their home she had been collecting pictures of them together to hang around the house, choosing an entire wall in their room to put up their favourites. She made sure to ask Dalton his opinion on any new addition, even if it was just a little plant or a candle, but he said yes to everything she wanted. He was thankful for the effort she was putting in, but what truly warmed his heart was a permanent night light plugged next to his nightstand, although he didn’t need it as much anymore.

Sleeping in the same bed without having to really squeeze in was a huge upgrade, not that they hated being really close to each other but in order to fit into the tiny dorm beds Y/N practically had to sleep on top of Dalton, so it wasn't always the most comfortable thing or ideal.

They also got to know each other on a whole new level, and he started to notice the tiniest details about her, but the things that stood out for him were the things she does when no one is watching, things he’s sure she doesn’t even notice herself. Like how she sticks her tongue out when she’s pouring something, or how she does a little dance when she’s eating anything she loves, or the way she taps her fingers when the microwave is not fast enough, just everything about her that made him love her even more.

He often caught himself doing things he never did before, like writing down the stuff they needed to get next time they went to the grocery store or carefully folding his dirty clothes instead of just throwing them somewhere on the floor, loving how proud and happy Y/N would get whenever he did it right. Really just taking pleasure in the little details that came with living with her, as simple as saying ‘I love you’ before any of them left the house without the other.

There were a lot of times Y/N found herself stuck when she couldn’t reach high in the cupboards. Dalton enjoyed that more than he should, so he started to put some of their groceries there, just so that he could see her struggle in her tiptoes and ultimately have her ask for his help.

“Why do you keep purposefully putting my snacks so high?”

“Me?”

“Yes, you” She replied, pointing a finger at him “You think I can store things all the way up there?” She made her best attempt to grab something as she stood in her tiptoes, demonstrating she couldn’t reach there.

Dalton shrugged his shoulders and smiled as he helped her, denying any accusation Y/N threw at him.

Oh, but cooking together was something he didn’t think he would love as much. Putting on their favourite songs as they moved along the kitchen, picking up every ingredient they needed for their meal. Y/N was much more talented when it came to that, but he wanted to be just as involved, so that the in-betweens steps felt like a reward when he pulled her in for a little dance break and as they shared cheesy kisses.

They had been living there for almost two months, and slowly but surely the flat was coming together very nicely, definitely feeling like a home already. It was Sunday and they didn’t have any plans for the day, wanting to just stay in and relax. Dalton got out of the shower with a sleepy gaze still on his face, the wet strands of his hair were left to drip water on the floor leading to the small mirror in the bathroom. He stared at himself for a moment, contemplating if he had the energy to shave. He didn’t, so he just went for a fluffy towel to shake his soaked hair with it.

He then made his way to their shared bedroom, the bed was made and he noticed a brand new book on Y/N’s nightstand. He quickly changed into something comfortable as he wondered where Y/N was, but as soon as he opened the bedroom door a delicious smell invaded his nostrils.

Dalton walked slowly towards the kitchen, where he spotted Y/N quietly humming to herself as she decorated the plates in front of her with french toasts and strawberries. The blinking of the coffee machine indicated that it was ready to be served, so he decided to grab their designated cups and do it, but not before greeting his lover.

“Good morning” He whispered as wrapped his arms around her from behind and kissed her temple, resting his head on her shoulder.

“Good morning” She tried hard to hide her smile but failed when his eyes finally met hers “How did you sleep last night?” Y/N asked, now facing him.

“I haven’t slept that good in a while. You?”

“Me too. Fells nice to sleep in for once” “Yeah, we should do that more” He replied, now directing his attention to the coffee cups.

He helped her bring everything to the small table and Dalton smiled softly at the new set of flowers that were decorating it.

“So when are you gonna paint something for our home?” She asked once they started eating their breakfast.

“You would like that?” “Obviously” She replied “I didn’t think I was gonna have to ask you”

He giggled and looked down at his plate shyly “Okay. I guess I can give it to you for very cheap, family discount”

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully at him, but her heart definitely skipped a beat when she heard the word family “Come on. I think some of your art would definitely tie everything together. Maybe in the living room… or our bedroom”

“Not that I'm trying to boost my own ego…”

“Here we go” She said under her breath.

“But yeah, a portrait of us over there would be the perfect touch” He said, pointing at an empty spot on the wall.

“That’s what I’m saying!”

Getting ready for bed with her was one of his favourite activities. Dalton adapted most of her bedtime routine, sometimes taking a warm shower together and then standing by the sink to proceed with skin care next to each other as they talked about their day, he just loved the intimacy of it.

He also looked forward to the late night conversations as she tried to keep her eyes open just to have a little more time with him before completely dozing off, although it wasn’t always easy after a long day.

“Are you sleepy?" Y/N just hummed in response “You don’t wanna talk?”

Y/N opened her eyes again, looking up at him and meeting with his soft blue eyes “What do you wanna talk about?” She asked, a sweet smile appearing on her face.

“Well, we’ve been living here for almost two months and I don’t think we’ve had a proper housewarming party”

“We’re not throwing a party”

“I didn’t mean like a crazy big party, just a little gathering with our friends” He clarified.

“They have been here”

“Yes but not all of them at the same time. I was thinking we can invite them over, cook something and just have a chat or movie night, just like we used to”

She reached for his soft hair and slowly brushed it out of his face “We can do that”

“Ok, you can go to sleep now” He whispered, kissing her forehead softly as her head laid on his chest and her heavy eyes finally got to rest.

He went to sleep every night with a smile on his face, and he was always excited to wake up next to her.

#sorry if it's a little short #dalton lambert #dalton lambert x reader #dalton lambert fluff #dalton lambert fanfic #dalton lambert fic #dalton lambert imagine #dalton lambert imagines #insidious #insidious the red door #insidious 5 #ty simpkins

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brighter-by-the-daly · 1 year

Text

Rachel Daly x Reader

Part Thirteen - Jealous

You woke up first, pulled some joggers on and went downstairs to start breakfast for you all. Finding bacon and sausages at the back of the fridge you decided to do a fry up and started making your own hash browns. While everything was cooking you went outside to call your friends, you didn’t tell them about Millie but told them everything else. Rach had practically asked you to move in and declared your love for each other, albeit inadvertently. You suggested them coming up tonight and all go out to G-A-Y which they were so up for “can you invite Lucy?” Georgia asked, you laughed saying you’ll try before hanging up. You crept back inside and stared at the eggs, longing them to cook themselves just when Rachel appeared hugging you from behind kissing your neck. “Good morning beautiful” you said quietly, spinning round and placing your hands around the back of her neck, she pushed you against the counter and gave you a long slow kiss. Tucking a piece of hair behind her ear so you could admire her face “every day I think you can’t get anymore gorgeous and everyday I wake up wrong” you said before kissing her again “everyday I wake up thinking I couldn’t fall for you anymore than I already am and everyday I wake up wrong” kissing you more. “What ya making?” as she picked you up and placed you on the counter “Fry up, but it’s more of a grill up because I know you two can’t eat fried stuff, do you know how to poach eggs?” tilting your head ad longing for her answer to be yes. You can’t cook eggs for the life of you. “Oh step aside babe, I am the queen of poached eggs!” As she took over that task, you made the teas. You both plated everything up and took it upstairs. Gently waking Millie up “oh mate, I could get used to this!” She said sitting up to eat. You and Rach climbed back into bed with yours and turned on the news. The first thing that came on was about the Lionesses, letting out a cheer. Rach took a photo of you all in bed which made you ask why she takes photos of everything; when her dad passed she realised she didn’t have many photos of anyone and vowed to take more to remember the good times. “So the ones of me yesterday?” you quizzed her quietly with an eyebrow raised “Shhh, they’re for my secret folder” she said hushing you “I’ve gotta see this folder Rach!” as you grabbed her phone to find it, there was so many of you that you never realised she had taken “pretty sure this is illegal babe!” you joked.

“Millie, I have a question. Did you talk to Rachel about the chat we had after karaoke?” Millie shook her head “what chat?” Rachel asked, you ignored her and held out your little finger for her to pinky swear which she did with no hesitation. “What chat?!” Rachel asked again but louder “Millie asked where I thought we were going” “and (y/n) said it was up to you to make that decision” “and I wondered as you asked me to be your girlfriend the next day if Millie had said anything” “nope, that was all Rachel” Millie smiled. “Why was it up to me?” she seemed genuinely confused “Because I didn’t know if you just wanted a shag while you were in town or if you actually had time for and wanted a relationship” you said “wherever I go, I see you there with me” Rach smiled holding your hand. “And you Mrs!” she prodded Millie “my two best girls, I don’t ever wanna be without you” she put an arm around each of you and pulled you closer to her.

Millie spoke about Levi and said she’s decided not to be sad, she’s in the highlight of her life and she’s not gonna let some silly boy ruin it. “AMEN!” You and Rach shouted together. “I’ve invited my girls over tonight, thought we could all go out if you two are up for it? They’re already shopping for outfits so you can’t say no really” you cornered them but they were both up for it, Millie is in desperate need of fun. “Georgia asked me to invite Lucy so can you two do that please” you giggled “we should invite all the girls!” Millie excitedly started texting everyone. Mary, Beth, Ella and Alessia replied immediately, Lucy took some convincing but eventually agreed and the RSVPs came trickling in thick and fast… except Leah who left Millie on read.

“Has Leah got a problem with me?” Rachel and Millie let out a big sigh and both rolled their eyes “noo.. it’s with me, she told me she liked me and I turned her down and now a few weeks later I got with you” she responded with no hesitation “oh!” Is all you could manage after hearing that “I don’t like her in that way and I feel a bit bad cause I said I wasn’t ready for a relationship and then I found you” her head bowed. “Hey, you can’t control when people walk into your life Rach, I wouldn’t worry about it” Millie said flippantly “but I do worry about it affecting our team dynamic, we’re so good I’d hate for this to be the reason we don’t win”. “Girl are you hearing yourself?! Leah doesn’t want that either she’s just a bit jealous that’s all! Imagine someone you liked turning you down and then getting with someone else. (Y/n) you’re gonna have to work a bit harder to get her to come round but she will, everyone else loves you!” Millie exclaimed. “Except this one” pointing at Rach “she just likes me” looking at your girl with a smirk on your face. “Shut up!” Rachel jabbed you in the ribs jokingly.

Part Fourteen - Third Wheelin’ 🔞

#rachel daly #rachel daly x reader #woso masterlist #woso x reader #millie bright #lionesses #leah williamson

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adriennebarnes · 1 year

Text

Couple Tag

Masterlist

Pairing: Xavier Thorpe x Hispanic!Reader

Summary: After watching couples TikToks, Y/N to do a couple tag with him.

No warnings, just fluff!

Y/N was with Xavier watching TikToks on her phone when she came across this video of a couple tag.

“Xavi, mi amor, can we please do this couples tag?” Y/N said, showing Xavier the TikTok. “If you want to post it, we can, but I don’t have to post it.” Y/N looked at him with doe eyes which, in his opinion, are better than puppy dog eyes. After watching the video, Xavier came to a decision.

“Yeah sure Angel, we can do it. I’m okay with you posting it, and tag me that way any boy that sees this TikTok knows you’re taken.” Xavier said, kissing her. (If y’all haven’t seen Percy’s IG story, the way he kisses, he said that he would hold their face like a hamburger, which mean cupping their cheek, so that’s how Xavier kisses the reader)

“Okay, okay, up, we’ll sit on the bed, I’ll put the timer and place my phone on your dresser, okay? Should we do this with our eyes closed or open?” Y/N asked.

“Open, makes the video funnier.” Xavier said. He got comfortable on the edge of the bed, Y/N places the phone on his dresser, leaning against his cologne, adjusts it so they come out nice on camera, places the timer and the video started.

“This one’s for couples, 14 questions. Who apologizes the first after a fight?” The audio asks. Xavier and Y/N both pointed at Xavier and Xavier kissed her forehead.

“Who’s the funny one?” The audio asks again. Xavier points at himself, Y/N points at herself.

“My jokes in Spanish are hilarious!” Y/N said.

“If only I understood them.” Xavier said and Y/N playfully shoves him.

“Who’s more romantic?” The audio asks. Xavier and Y/N pointed at Xavier.

“You plan the best dates.” Y/N said, kissing Xavier’s cheek, he blushed slightly.

“Who’s more patient?” The audio asks. Y/N says “not you” at the same time Xavier says “not me” and they point at Y/N.

“Who’s the better cook?” They point at Y/N immediately.

“It’s your literal ability!” Xavier exclaimed.

“Who said ‘I love you’ first?” They point at Xavier.

“My lover boy precioso.” Y/N said, kissing his cheek again.

“Who takes longer to get ready in the morning?” Both of the jointed at themselves.

“It’s a tie, honestly.” Y/N said.

“Okay, but without a shower.” Xavier said.

“Oh, then me, for sure.” Y/N said and pointed at herself, Xavier also pointed at her.

“Who’s the grumpier one in the morning?” They pointed at Xavier.

“Who’s more stubborn?” They pointed at Y/N.

“It’s the Hispanic in me.” Y/N said.

“Who’s the bigger baby when sick?” They pointed at Xavier.

“At least you admit it.” Y/N said and then Xavier licked Y/N’s cheek. “Guácala!”

“Oh, so now you think my tongue is gross?” Xavier asked.

“Who’s the social butterfly?” They pointed at Y/N.

“Compared to you, everyone is a social butterfly.” Y/N said. “Except for Wednesday, she makes you look like a social butterfly.”

“Who’s the messy one?” They pointed at Y/N.

“I Don’t know how you find your things half of the time.” Xavier said.

“I have a system…sort of.” Y/N said

“Who initiated the first kiss?” They pointed at Xavier.

“He kissed me on outreach day! We were in the flower shop! FLOWERS WERE EVERYWHERE!” Y/N shouted. Y/N was so surprised from the kiss that she couldn’t control her powers that all the flowers from the greenhouse to multiply, grow out of their pot, and other flowers to cover every single inch of the shop.

“Well sorry that I made you flustered and causing flowers to literally cover the entire shop.” Xavier said.

“Who requires more attention?” They pointed at the both of them.

“Xavi is super clingy and I’m super affectionate.” Y/N said, hugging him, Xavier hugs her back. And the video ended. “No one will hear our commentary, and that’s exactly how I want it. Do you want to do another one or are you okay?” Y/N asked.

“We’ll do another one another time, okay? Let’s watch a movie.” Xavier said. They got into bed in a cuddle position and Y/N posted the video on her TikTok. They fell asleep while watching the movie.

Next morning Y/N woke up and checked her phone to see the time. She then opens TikTok and see she has over 99 notifications. She checks them and they were all notifications from the Couple Tag they did. There were comments, likes, saved to favorites, new followers, it was awesome.

“Xavi, Xavi, wake up.” Y/N said shaking Xavier so he can wake up. He’s not budging. “FLAQUITO!” Y/N shouted and shook him, he woke up startled.

“Darling, what happened?” Xavier asked.

“We’re viral!” Y/N exclaimed. Before Xavier asked questions, she showed him the video, 1.2 million views, 235.8 thousand likes, 946 comments, 19.3 thousand saves, 638 shares, and Y/N went from 7128 followers to 12 thousand. “All of the comments are saying to do more couples videos, what do you say?”

“As long as they are not prank videos, we can do them.” Xavier said,

After listening to “I can’t say I’m in love” by R5, the nostalgia gets to me, I was thinking of a fanfic where Y/N says “I love you” first and although Xavier FEELS that he loves her, he can’t say it because his father wasn’t exactly affectionate so Xavier can’t communicate his feelings. But then he finally says is and they have a happy ending. Let me know what you think. Also I know my fanfics aren’t very long…I like to get straight to the point

Also, so I’m just gonna tell you, it’s my birthday! Tada!

@pauphs @coldheartedmar

#xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe #xavier thrope imagine #percy hynes white #wednesday #hispanic #hispanic reader #romance #latina #latinx

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amooo1023 · 2 years

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Hey I gota spefic idea for a romantic Bill Cipher x reader thingie. A reader that gets posssessed and hates it but eventually helps an loves to help Bill with his schemees

I like this idea anon. Also it really helps when requests are more specific! It makes it easier to write for me. Not sure if I wrote it the way you wanted it though. But I hope you like my headcanons nonetheless. Also I mentioned the reader being naked at some point but it's not in the nsfw way. If that is triggering to some of you then I would advise to not read this.

Bill Cipher x Reader who hates to be possessed but slowly grows to love helping Bill (romantic headcanons)

Chances are that you got possessed from him while you made a deal with him. Of course you could've also have gotten possessed because somebody else made a deal with him. But the chances of that happening are pretty low. Also you'd probably get possessed before the twins get to Gravity Falls.

Either way you get possessed by him and you get mad immediately. Bill of course doesn't care and laughs at your expression.

It takes him a little while for him to get accustomed to your body but he gets the hang of it pretty quickly. After all he's used to possessing vessels.

Might ask you a few questions while you're in the mindscape, though him knowing that you'll not answer truthfully.

He doesn't really think of you as a threat so he doesn't act too threatening against you. To be honest he treats you like a joke.

He knows everything that you think about. So if he thinks you're thinking about something dumb or questionable he'll comment on it.

Despite him possessing your body he tries making conversation with you. It's honestly your decision if you want to talk to him or not.

He may try to scare you by threatening to commit suicide with your body. Of course he never actually means it and only threatens you to get a reaction out of you.

He'll probably be the first to like you and consider you as a friend. You on the other hand might still have a grudge against him.

He creates and causes a lot of mischief while in your body.

Chances are that he's going to be overly open with you whether you like it or not.

He schemes a lot and does goofy dumb stuff with your body as tests. Which might be the reason why you start to like him slightly more.

He has seen you naked before but to be honest he doesn't care. The only thing he knows is that it's a vessel and that's it. Though he gets a bit confused to why you're embarrassed since he's naked all the time and that doesn't make him feel embarrassed.

He probably doesn't know about privacy and what humans need or usually do to keep themselves healthy. So chances are that he probably accidentally starves himself without him knowing.

Usually this is where you help him out since this is your body we're talking about.

You kind of just follow him around watching as he does mistakes and messes things up. Usually this results in you laughing at him while he gets annoyed and asks you how he's going to be able to eat food and keep your body from dying if he can't even cook.

Results in you teaching him how to cook while you guide him to the easy steps of cooking. He failed a lot and made many mistakes. He also somehow managed to get a fork in your eye while he was in your body. For some reason he found it funny but annoying at the same time.

You're kind of his personal human teacher and or helper.

He probably would be the first to gain romantic feelings for you. But the only time he'll confess to you is once he reads your mind and he finds out you feel the same.

It's safe to say that he trusts you and will gladly let you get back into your vessel whenever you want. But in the condition of him also always being able to control your body. So basically you two switch.

No kisses in the physical world but kisses in the mindscape. That goes with almost all physical affection since he can't physically touch you and you can't touch him.

Lots of teasing from both sides. However Bill has an advantage in this since he can possess your body whenever he wants. So he can potentially cause problems for you without him actually getting any consequences since it's your body itself doing this.

You two are partners in crime and I mean it literally. He possesses your body and you help him with his shenanigans. (Most of them are crimes though)

He doesn't really know how to comfort you if you're under the weather. He might come off as if he's making fun out of you because he constantly tries making jokes. In reality he's trying his best to comfort you.

Let's say he possesses your body while he's talking to you. If you then start trying to flirt with him you can easily see your vessel's cheeks blush. If you comment on it he'll immediately leave your body but his glow around him will be a pink reddish color. He'll try flirting with you back but he's kind of terrible at it. It's safe to say that you laughed at his attempts to trying to flirt back against you. If you laughed at him his glow around his triangle body will get brighter while he starts getting annoyed and flustered at you.

I think it's safe to say that your relationship with Bill will be relatively good.

#x reader #fanfiction #Fic #bill cipher #ask #thanks anon!#headcanons #fanfic #romantic #gravity falls #Bill cipher headcanons #romantic headcanons #bill cipher x reader #Fluff

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sunnydaleherald · 5 months

Text

The Herald's position on AI-generated text and images

We've occasionally linked outputs of things like predictive text engines in the past, especially back when those were an interesting novelty. Now that pretty much the whole world is using ChatGPT, the time of novelty is past, and it's time to clarify where we stand. A summary of this post will be added to the Herald's FAQ for reference.

As a rule, we will not knowingly link AI-assisted stuff unless it's exceptionally original compared to what we've seen before (for example, an entirely new format) or the human artist/author has modified the generated material in some creative and non-trivial way (for example, by using AI to create a background, which they then heavily modify by hand), or the post has sparked substantial discussion.

If someone posts machine-generated material and doesn't label it as such, we--in all honesty--might not be able to tell. However, if we do find out, especially if there's evidence that little to no human editing went into the finished work, we'll remove the work in question from the Herald if we've already linked it, and we'll avoid linking anything else posted by the same person in the future.

We arrived at this approach because the Herald pretty much exists to promote what fans create and what fans have to say. Large text models are not Buffyverse fans, and if their developers have any opinion on the series, it's not apparent in their work.

On a more serious note, one of the Herald's stated purposes is to encourage fandom members to participate in their community. We want to support people pouring time, effort and love into what they create, expressing and discovering themselves in the process, starting conversations based on their own opinions, and collaborating with actual human beings. The process is crucial; it's part of what builds the community. Sure, AI is efficient in the sense that it can provide something vaguely acceptable faster than humans can. But if efficiency was our goal, none of us would be here taking our sweet time to ruminate over a 20+ year old show.

I bet many of our readers don't need us to explain that there are issues with AI, but are more surprised that we're not taking an even more categorical position against AI. To stay at all relevant and useful, because as a newsletter started in the oughts we are a relic of ages past, the Herald has to make an effort to be open to different forms of fandom participation and keep up to date with new developments. We're well accustomed to linking some things we personally don't like, because our work isn't about each editor's individual opinions. So we're not closing the door to the possibility that these technologies *could* be used for worthwhile creations. In a few more years or maybe even sooner, if the use and regulation of machine learning continues to develop and forms of artistry get more established, we (or future editors of the Herald) might make different decisions about what to include. Or the fad might blow over and AI use in art might become an anecdote of the past, like that era when people put jello in all their cooking.

P.S. We don't always have time to do substantial research as we gather and select links, so if you notice we've linked something that is for sure not human-made, feel free to let us know by sending sunnydaleherald an ask on tumblr or contacting me ([email protected] or a direct message on the webbed site of your choice where you've seen me around). However, we are unlikely to act on such tips without solid proof.

A very happy ritual sacrifice with pie to all who celebrate!

#mod post

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absurdthirst · 11 months

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I want to know if I am overreacting. Can I please have some advice?

I am a 23 year old female. I live at home with my parents and I don’t work nor go to school since my anxiety and depression make it hard for me. Instead I keep up the house. I cook and clean everything about 95% of the time, I help homeschool and babysit my nephew at least 5 days out of the week, and I am at anyone’s beck and call if they need me. Especially my grandparents.

My sister & BIL have just had a baby and being in their home has been hard, especially since my sister has developed PPD, so they have decided to sell it. Their initial plan was to get an apartment near our house and then buy another house a little later. They even asked my dad for money to help fix up their house before selling it. We were all for that plan since we hated that house since they first got it. So to us it was a relief.

But then a week later their plans changed. Instead they want to buy an RV and park it in our backyard so they can live back there. My dad said it was fine and they immediately started making plans for that. And I immediately went insane. Just the thought of the living dynamics fucked me up. I was just completely against it. I tried to get my dad to take it back but they have basically steamrolled their plan and want to be out of their house and moved into my grandmas house in two weeks before eventually getting the RV.

I love my sister and my nephew and my new baby niece but I despise my BIL. He’s immature and just plain obnoxious. I can’t imagine having to see them everyday. Especially because they are so irritating.

And the thing about my sister and BIL is that ever since they’ve gotten together they continually have pushed responsibilities that should be theirs onto me. Specifically when it comes to my nephew. They constantly let him come over for days at a time without saying when they’re picking him up. They made the decision to homeschool him two months ago, but lately I’ve the one that’s picked up the slack on that end. In turn, since my nephew spends so much time with me and because I practically helped raise him up until he was 5, he’s so attached to me and doesn’t leave me alone and it’s so overwhelming. I know it’s not his fault but I feel like I’m still a parent to him even though he has two capable adults that already are his parents. I can’t imagine how it’ll be when they move into the backyard.

I fear they will let him come into the house whenever he wants so they don’t have to be responsible for him. I fear they’ll be even more lazy about homeschooling him. I fear that they will expect me to cook all the meals for them and help clean their RV. Especially since they have no problem taking food sometimes when I cook dinner. I fear they’ll come into the house and get whatever they want and make whatever plans they want because that’s how they already are. It’s just so overwhelming. I feel like my safe space is being invaded.

My home, whenever they are not here, is a nice and quiet safe haven from them and the responsibilities I have with my nephew and I fear them moving so closely is going to make me combust. My mom isn’t too keen about the arrangements either but she says just talking out some boundaries will do the trick to keep them to themselves. But I highly doubt that.

Am I over exaggerating? Am I being paranoid or do I have some valid reasons to worry? I’ve told my mom that I will try and see how the living arrangements will hold up but if I can’t take them I’m considering moving to MX with family members to get away from them. At least until they buy their house.

(PS. That’s the thing also. They haven’t given an estimated time of when they’ll start looking for a new house or buying land or whatever they’re planning. They just plan whatever, involving everyone help of course, and then expect us all to go along with it. It’s happened so many times already. I’m just so tired of them)

((PPS. I also know that It could be good for my sister to be close since she has PPD. I don’t want to be insensitive about that. But I feel like them getting an apartment close to us would be good enough. We could go and help her anytime she needs. Our schedules would align that she won’t ever be alone for a long time. Not more than an hour. IDK I also feel guilty about feeling this way towards them living in the backyard since I want to be able to help my sister but I just know I’ll be even more overwhelmed than usual as well.))

I don’t think you are being unreasonable. This has disaster written all over it.

I don’t know if they (BIL/sister) understand how difficult living in an RV will be. Doesn’t matter how luxurious it is, it will be a HUGE adjustment. Especially with a NEWBORN and a 5 year old.

You are right, they will treat the house as an extension of their space and send your nephew to you when they ‘need a break’. Which will be all the time in close quarters.

I’m sorry, I truly am. This is going to be maddening. The best advice I could possibly give you is to make sure you have therapy in place and stand firm in your boundaries you lay down before they ever even move that RV in. At the end of the day - they had children, you didn’t.

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lokilickedme · 2 years

Text

So I’m at work yesterday and my supervisor decides to break the one cardinal rule of keeping me as an employee, and that’s to never ever ask me to put on the headset. We’re a sometimes crazy-busy tourist-centric ice cream parlor (the last stop for mountainbikers and hikers before you hit the mountain) that also makes fairly good food (not “fast” food...our cook is slow as hell and also legally blind so yeah no we don’t fit that category by sheer technicality thanks to Andrew’s inch-thick lenses that honestly probably need to be another inch thicker for him to see the damn grill)

Anyway

So supervisor is like listen, I gotta pee so bad I can taste it and I haven’t had a break since, like, last Thursday so I’m gonna clock out and go take a nap behind the dumpster (or something, I dunno I wasn’t listening over the wheezing roar of the cream spinner) and I nod and say okay yeah sure babe whatever go have your meltdown you’re owed one, and as I’m reaching for the hammer to take a whack at the chugging dispenser she puts the dreaded headset in my hand.

I look at her. She looks at me.

“I got you one. You’re the only person here that I trust to do everything. You can do this.”

“I quit.”

“No you don’t, Andrew will kill himself and you can’t have that on your conscience.” I glance over at the kitchen window. Andrew the mostly-blind cook is nodding pathetically and making a praying-hands gesture at me. “Put it on and give it a try, please? Come on I haven’t peed since noon yesterday, I’m dyin’ here.”

She’s cute as hell, my supervisor. And she’s giving me the big brown puppydog eyes, so I begrudgingly take the headset. I’m such a fucking guy sometimes.

She runs for the exit.

A minute later I hear her voice over the headset. “Push the button closest to your temple to talk to the driveup intercom, push it again to mute. Middle button talks to me. Don’t worry about the other four buttons.”

You can all see where this is going, can’t you.

I push the middle button and tell her sweetly to fuck herself. She giggles from somewhere far away, probably peeing in a ditch I dunno I can’t be bothered to stop what I’m doing long enough to look up. I’m trying to figure out how to make three brownie sundaes out of the last two brownies without anybody noticing they got shorted and had their brownie replaced with an Oreo when I hear a sound that strikes fear into my soul.

The driveup dinger, ringing in my right ear. The blind cook starts cackling from the kitchen - he has a headset too, but he’s not trained on either window or register and thus has immunity.

Geezus hellfire it’s gotta be me. I ignore it, they’ll go away in a minute.

“Answer it!!” my supervisor hisses in my ear.

“No, I quit.”

“Answer it!!”

Goddammit.

“Why can’t Andrew do it?”

“Andrew isn’t trained on register.”

“He can take the order and repeat it to me, I’ll put it in the register.”

“Take the order!!”

Fuck

“Yeah hello, welcome to - whatever this is, you want some ice cream? We got ice cream.”

Kitchen boy is howling while my supervisor screams the deathscream of a person of authority who’s just made a career-ending decision against their own better judgement and is currently watching it explode in their face while they’re sitting on the toilet. That’ll teach her. The day I took this job I said no headset, I have to be able to read a person’s lips while they’re talking to understand them and I warned her, I fucking warned her it would go badly. She really should have listened to me. It’s too late now though, I’m taking the goddamn order.

Andrew is hooting from the kitchen. I’m gonna smack him in the dick with a spatula the next time he walks past me I swear to god. So I take the order and it goes pretty much without a hitch with the exception of me having to ask the customer three times to repeat themselves because I can’t see their damn mouth telling me what they want, then I commence to preparing it and then I ring the customer out and give them their ice cream. End of. And then I take the headset off and drop it by the sink because I’ve done what I said I’d do. I can hear supervisor screaming at me through the little earpiece across the room while I make sundaes for the nice elderly couple who had the decency to come into the lobby instead of pulling up to the drive through and putting me through hell, and as is my custom, I ignore it.

A minute later supervisor is standing in the doorway, hands on hips, glaring at me. “Put it back on.”

“I quit.”

“No you don’t, think of Andrew. Put it on, you did fine.”

“Will I still get my final paycheck if I tell you to fuck yourself in front of a customer?”

“You’ve done that twice this morning already. Put it on.”

“Does it matter if the customer is over a certain age? Like, 75?”

“Put it on.”

“Why don’t you just take the driveup orders while you’re peeing instead of yelling at me through the headset? If you can talk to me you can talk to the intercom.”

She’s already gone, so my argument for taking orders from the ladies room is pointless. I can see cars lining up outside. Andrew is still laughing from the kitchen. I make a nice pretty little ice cream cone, dip it in cherry sauce, and hurl it at his head through the window. I don’t think he even saw it, he’s pretty damn visually impaired but I’m sure he was wondering a couple of minutes later what the hell was making that godawful sizzling noise from the fryer.

In the end I put the headset back on, and I took the incoming orders, and it went okay for the most part - nobody died, I didn’t screw any orders up, and once the rush was over my supervisor comes back on and tells me I’m doing great, but I don’t hear her because I’m busy making the last driveup order and muttering an impressive litany of vile curses to myself over the drone of the shake machine. The machine, like everything else in this fucking brokedown palace, is held together by chicken wire and a whole lot of prayers and a halfassed deal with Satan and today’s the day it has chosen to go out in a blaze of glory. It explodes the shake all over me with all the noisy blast of spewed milk and chocolate sauce and ice cream that you’d expect to be involved in a malfunction involving a rotor spinning at just about 5000 rpm, and the bulk of the spewage that doesn’t hit me in the face heads straight for the front of my pants.

I scream JESUS CHRIST!!! and drop the whole thing on the floor, where the remaining contents of the cup go right ahead and explode all over my shoes. I’m soaked tits to toes. I can hear supervisor giggling over the headset, which is now the only dry thing I’m wearing. “Goddammit Trina the shake machine just shit the bed and unloaded itself all over my crotch!!”

She’s laughing so hard now. So so hard. It kinda hurts my ear how loud she’s laughing.

“My damn crotch is soaked straight through to the goddamn cotton panel of my panties Trina!! People are gonna wonder how the hell I’m pissing milk and chocolate sauce I mean it feels kinda good but THIS IS A HYGIENE ISSUE TRINA send me home I quit I’m done this is it GET OUT OF THE DAMN BATHROOM AND MAKE THIS SHAKE FOR THE DRIVE-THROUGH BECAUSE I’M LEAVING I told you not to put me on this thing!!!!”

There’s another set of laughter coming over the headset when I stop ranting. It’s not kitchen boy, he’s staring at me through the window like he’s equal parts scared and turned on and supervisor has turned off her headset and retreated to the office because I’m obviously teetering on the brink of murderous intent and I guess she figures plausible deniability is the way to go in this situation, since obviously the cops will be coming soon. So where’s the second set of laughter coming from...?

Oh...

Oh no

I forgot to mute my headset link to the driveup intercom. I’ve been broadcasting my soaked crotch adventures to the entire parking lot, including the lady whose shake just blew its load on my pants.

“Aw fuck. Tell me I didn’t just say all that over the headset. Somebody please say it, I don’t even care who just somebody say it.”

Supervisor isn’t answering me anymore, so kitchen boy replies over his headset. “Yeah, and you said fuck just now too.”

“Fuck.”

I can still hear the lady outside laughing. I suddenly can’t remember which button mutes me, not like it matters anymore. “Andrew baby, I’ll give you a dollar to cash this lady out at the window and give her her shake.”

“No way.”

“Five dollars.”

Silence over the headset. Driveup lady has gone silent, obviously waiting to see how the negotiations go. “Nope.”

“Come on Andrew, I’m dyin’ here. My pants are wet. Don’t make me do this.”

“I don’t know how to do cashouts.”

“I’ll teach you right now. Come on, I can teach you before she even gets to the window. Come on.” At this point I’m willing to offer the kid a quick feel in the walk-in fridge if he’ll just do this thing for me. I can’t look driveup lady in the face, not with the contents of her original order trickling slowly into my various crevices, not after I effbombed her through the intercom god knows how many times. I’m hitting all the buttons on the headset but don’t know what the hell I’m doing so I finally just take it off and throw it in the sink. “Come on baby, little man, sweetiepie, please?”

Andrew is making gestures at his ear, pretending like he can’t hear me now that I’m off the headset despite his skinny ass being less than ten feet away from me. Dick. Somebody’s gettin locked in the freezer tomorrow.

In the end I cashed the lady out and handed her her new chocolate shake, and as I’m giving her her change she says “It sounds like you’re having quite a day.”

I’m squidging when I walk and my vagina feels like when you rub vaseline between your thumb and forefinger and I’m pretty sure chocolate administered internally via the urethra causes UTIs so yeah lady, I’m having quite a day. Take your damn shake and your change and get gone, I gotta go out behind the dumpster with a pressure washer and take care of this.

Today I arrive at work and Trina gives me a look, but doesn’t mention yesterday. Our boss works with us all morning and after about two hours she holds up a headset and asks if I want to do driveup for her while she’s on break. Trina yells from the office before I even have a chance to respond:

“NO SHE DOESN’T DO HEADSET!!!”

Damn right I don’t.

#adventures at work #mountain town life is whack or maybe it's just me #The Tale of The Chocolate Coochie

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darsynia · 1 year

Text

Trust Fall | Ch10

ARC image by Eury Escodero | image from neverfeltbetter at Wordpress

Story Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Summary: Tony/OC, ‘terrorists made us fall in love;’ IM1 timeline. In this chapter, Yinsen's story about how he fell in love feels very familiar to Emory and Tony, but that doesn't stop them from finding joy in Emory's new powers and each other.

Length: 4,833

Tags (please don’t hesitate to ask!): @starryeyes2000 @raith-way @arrthurpendragon @starksbf @themaradaniels @chickensarentcheap @tiny-anne

Excerpt:

"Cyclone Armor, Emory. Think big.”

“I hate to point this out, but that name is way too grand for someone of my stature. It would be more like Downspout Armor or something.” She skids to a halt and ‘feels’ the air around her. One of the ‘packages’ is gone, another one is at less intensity than it held before. “It knocked out one of three, and the second one is at half strength.”

Emory tosses them into the corner and watches as they spin dust up and dissipate into the ceiling. Then she goes over to where Tony is still lying on his back. He’s got his hands behind his head and one knee up, the other leg crossed over it, looking for all the world like he’s resting peacefully on a beach instead of in captivity in the mountains.

“What if,” he says, pointing at her with one shoe, “You spun a hundred of them around you? Could you deflect projectiles?”

“In theory. In practice, I’d run out of patience for creating them at around ten, and likely they’d just collide mid-stream and knock me around. Are you going to get up or do you want me to check you for broken bones?” she asks. Emory knows that she’s got to get a handle on her power generation, and that the longer she’s het up, the more she’ll have to control, so why not go hard and fast?

“I am overdue for a thorough, line-item inspection of all of my parts,” Tony says immediately, holding both hands angled back, palm up.

Chapter Ten: Солнечный лучик

Tony’s constant low-level sexual frustration is, infuriatingly, good for his progress on the suit he’s building, he finds, especially as he has started on the wiring. Because the wires themselves are so lightweight and valuable, he can’t risk Emory being anywhere near him while he’s working, so he’d had to ban her from his side of the cave. Yinsen’s almost finished cooking, though, which means they have a dilemma.

“Would it be ridiculous to just take the table and chairs over there?” Tony muses.

“That depends on how willing you two are to curb your enthusiasm. I have no wish to clean bean stew from my suit,” Yinsen says, stirring at the pot without looking over.

“It’s not that bad,” Tony objects.

Now Yinsen looks over. Tony doesn’t like how perceptive his expression is, so he makes the command decision that yes, they’re moving the table.

“Well I’m going to do it. You’ll just have to regale us with tales of your youth,” Tony tells him.

Emory’s under her blanket doing her singing exercises when Tony picks up the table. His instinct is to call out and tell her what’s going on, if only so he can see the expression on her face as she watches him come over. The problem is, if he sets her off so soon before eating, there will definitely be bean stew to clean up.

His compromise is to carry over the chairs first. The sound will alert her to something going on without any direct interference from him.

Tony loves being a genius.

A sound of metal clinking together pulls Emory out of her singing practice. She drops the blanket to see Tony setting down some chairs.

“Thought we’d eat over here. Just in case.”

He doesn’t hold her gaze long at all, but there’s a playful light in his eyes that has Emory captivated. As she watches, he picks up the table they eat at and walks it over, turning sideways when he sets it down (she’s certain he’s doing it on purpose) so she can see his arms to best effect.

“You are so completely transparent,” she laughs.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Tony protests as he arranges the chairs, but he glances over at her with a broad smile. Emory had spent all morning learning what it felt like to hold onto the odd second skin of potential power that happens when she feels a particularly strong emotion. The longer she holds on, the thicker that skin feels, and after a while there’s feedback, as if a small percent of what she’s gripping frees itself to affect her personally. She’d held on long enough for her hair to start blowing around (despite being dirty and weighed down by grime) and her clothes to ripple. Emory hasn't had a chance to share that information with Tony yet, but something about the way she’s already having to focus on holding back tells her he’ll be observing it himself by the end of their meal.

Considering she can feel it starting to build and the food isn’t even ready yet, Emory realizes she probably ought to focus this afternoon on learning how to dissipate the energy in a benign way.

That gives her an idea, and she hops to her feet. The other thing she’s been trying to practice is being able to tell the distance she’s ‘throwing’ the energy, which she’d tested by standing further and further back from the string contraption Tony’d built for her.

“What’s up?” he asks, coming over with three cups of water.

“Had a thought about how to disperse the energy. In case I need to.”

Tony’s lips curve into a smile that is at least fifty percent powered by whatever is going on between them. Just seeing it is enough for her hair to start lifting off of her neck.

“Okay, let me just--” Emory says, backing into the corner where she’s been retreating to test her abilities. She has enough banked not to need to look at Tony, but the temptation is too great. She craves the look of surprise and approval she’s certain she’s going to see on his face if she succeeds. To start, though, she closes her eyes.

Taking in a deep breath, she focuses on the layer of power she’s sheathed in, picturing it as less of a scabbard than a cushion, one she can rotate. If Emory’s right, instead of projecting the energy, she should be able to circle it around herself. She starts slow, wishing she’d tied a shirt around her waist to see whether the ends start to flutter. The pants she’s been wearing for over a month are quality material, and the airflow against them doesn’t really register, early on.

She can feel her hair lift and twist, and that’s when Emory opens her eyes. Tony’s standing with one hand resting on the back of a chair, eyes fixed on her, clearly fascinated.

“You’re making your hair spin, do you feel any force turning you, or are you able to hold it far enough away?” he asks.

“It’s like a cushion around me, like I’m protected in a cylinder, or something,” she answers, feeling the rotation as she eases more of the power into the already existing spiral. Soon she feels the force that Tony had hinted at; the wind wants to turn her. The only way that won’t hurt her is if she lifts up a little, but even then, Emory doesn’t want to get dizzy, just spin the potential energy around herself and away, rather than building it up until she’s a powder keg. “I wonder…” she says, and directs almost all of the energy down, meaning to see if she can levitate, even just a little bit.

“Emory?” Tony asks, seconds before she starts to lift up.

“Don’t worry, it’s just a little--” she says, but even as she says it, she realizes she’s wrong. It’s a lot. Emory fights to keep the power she can feel surging under her feet from winding up onto her legs and spinning her in a dangerous, uncontrollable way. She can sense that this is possible, now, as if she can see a tiny bit into the future of where the energy can go, if she pushes or pulls it just the right way.

“Send it out, send it wide, you’re going to--” Tony says, coming forward, reaching.

Emory looks up and throws her hands up to protect herself against the array of jutting rock and dug-out hollows that make up the cave’s ceiling. Instinctively, she brings the cushion of air she’d spun beneath her up, allowing it to turn as it whooshes up and away. She starts falling faster than she’d expected to, but Tony is there, so she sends all the air up instead of retaining it to cushion her landing.

She trusts that he’ll catch her. The alternative is to knock him down with the force of the energy.

Tony does catch her; he ends up crouched with her in his arms.

“How does it feel to defy gravity, Elphaba?” he asks. He sounds impressed but shaken.

“Terrifying,” she says, hiding her face in his neck.

“I’ve got you,” Tony says, his voice quiet but reassuring. His arms tighten around her for a few seconds, one hand coming up to stroke her hair once, before he straightens, and Emory draws back with no small amount of reluctance. She’d felt so safe in those stolen moments, as if Tony’s strength was something she was entitled to. However, his reference to the musical Wicked reminds her of the duet that the character Elphaba sings with her love interest. ‘As Long As You’re Mine’ stings, in context. The male lead, Fiyero, starts the musical wealthy and narcissistic, after all. The song plays in her head as she backs up. ‘ And if it turns out it’s over too fast, I’ll make every last moment last… As long as you’re mine.’

“Thanks,” Emory says, tongue-tied.

“Food is ready. Come, eat.” Yinsen sounds stressed out, and Emory guesses that he probably is. If what she’d just done had been visible on the camera, they would be in a serious mess.

Emory sits across from Yinsen, thinking that it would be better than across from Tony. She’ll have to turn her head to look at him, maybe that will help?

“I think you’re on deck, sir,” Tony tells Yinsen. “In the interests of preventing any spinning stew bowls.”

She bites her tongue, resisting the urge to defend herself. Right now, just hearing Tony’s voice is fraught with power and passion, as much as she’d like to pretend otherwise.

“Do you want to talk about your children? I don’t think you’ve said anything about your family before,” she says to Yinsen.

The interpreter looks down at his bowl, holding himself uncharacteristically rigid. “I--” He lifts his head. There’s a misery there that makes Emory catch her breath. “I think that might be too painful. To be reminded, the responsibility I have to keep them safe. To have failed so completely.”

“I’m so sorry,” she whispers. “I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t want to give the impression that we didn’t care about what’s important to--”

Tony’s hand comes to rest on hers, and Emory’s words dust in her mouth.

“The worry is ever present, do not fret. Distractions only last so long. I could speak about my wife. There’s no escaping reminders of her, here.”

As always, Yinsen’s voice sounds gentle even as his words slice through all pretense, striking with unerring accuracy.

“Please,” Tony says, pulling his hand away.

Emory makes note of the fact that she had been caught up by feeling guilty, and thus didn’t store up any energy from the touch. It tells her that she might want to figure out a way to test the effects of fear on her newfound abilities. For now, though, she refocuses on Yinsen.

She wonders what he could mean that it’s impossible to escape reminders of his wife here of all places.

“My marriage wasn’t what you would call arranged in the typical use of the term, but the meaning of the word is very appropriate. Our families planned for us to marry, you could say.”

“How old were you?” Tony interrupts.

Yinsen’s expression is singularly amused, as he answers. “Oh, we were past thirty. This wasn’t a situation of young people, new to the world, being guided. Though, we were guided, most certainly. Adult professionals making their hopeful mothers weep for the lack of grandchildren.” He stops to take a few bites of his stew, but Emory saw that there had been a hitch in his breathing on the word ‘grandchildren.’ She wonders if there’s something awful that he’s been hiding from them, about his children.

Ever since discovering that she actually has ended up with powers that she can actually influence, and hopefully learn to better control, Emory’s felt guilty about having ‘stolen’ them from Yinsen’s son. In order to survive here in the cave, she’s pushed away all the thoughts of danger as far as is reasonably possible. Dying isn’t as distant as she wishes, though-- and Yinsen is nothing if not pragmatic. He had made the choice to use the injections on her in the hopes that they can all better survive this ordeal… but the cost and the rarity means that he’ll likely never have the chance to obtain more.

Emory almost wishes she could know: does Yinsen expect to survive? Did he give her the injections because he is more certain of dying than not?

Tony’s mid-sentence before she breaks out of her reverie. “--order the two of you to get married, or what?”

Yinsen sets down his spoon, an enigmatic smile on his face. “Nothing so direct. No, our families and a few others met for a week-long celebration. They didn’t tell us about their plans, just sent Jalila and I to collect food from an underground storeroom. The door closed behind us and we were trapped together for quite some time.”

At first, Tony seems confused. “But you said they planned it, what did they plan? For you to be--”

He trails off, and Emory looks down at her bowl. She understands, because the same forces have worked on her, if she’s understanding Yinsen correctly.

“They knew it would be a bonding experience,” Yinsen says. Emory can feel his eyes on her, but something about the certainty in his voice is setting her off.

“It’s not a given,” she protests without looking up. “How long were you in there?”

“Many days.”

“Did you figure out what they were trying to do?” she pushes. “Didn’t that, I don’t know, make it… didn’t it make you stubborn? Resistant?”

“Your reaction is a common one,” Yinsen says. The amusement in his voice makes her look up, even though she knows that he’s always incisive, always perceptive, and now is the worst time for him to demonstrate that, at a moment where her private feelings are so clearly illustrated by his tale. Just as she expected, he’s looking at her, and there’s understanding in his eyes. Emory grits her teeth, ready to push back on anything he might say in reference to herself and Tony.

“What reaction?” Tony asks. She looks over to see that his brows are furrowed, and he’s looking between the two of them.

“Do you want to explain?” Yinsen asks her. He’s enjoying putting her on the hot seat, Emory realizes. She glares at him.

“Not really, but I’m not sure I’d trust your take on it,” she tells him truthfully. Yinsen laughs at that.

Tony frowns. “Seriously, what am I missing here?”

“Many people to whom I tell this story believe that if they were in the same situation, they would resist forming an attachment because falling in love was the material purpose of our families confining us together like that. A romantic bond via a shared traumatic experience”

Tony starts to cough, takes a sip of water. When he puts the cup back down, it sloshes a little.

“I’m saying that if you knew someone was trying to force you into something, it’s human nature to resist it. Especially if they have power over you! So it’s completely different, if you knew,” Emory argues. “Anyway, it’s not a given.”

“Oh, certainly not,” Yinsen laughs.

They eat the rest of the meal in silence.

Emory spends the day studiously ignoring the implications of Yinsen’s story and what Tony might have gleaned from her reactions to it. She positions herself with her back to him, ostensibly so that she doesn’t change the conditions of her testing. After all, if she re-ups her emotional boost from her feelings for him when she’s in the middle of trying to dissipate the energy, won’t that just make it more difficult to learn how?

It’s always great when circumstances mean that the thing you already felt like doing ends up the better choice.

By the evening, she’s confident that she has the concept of dissipation down, but in practice, it’s still a bit difficult. There are two things she can do, and one of them might preserve the energy in a way she can ‘regather’ to use again. It’s hard to know for sure, because she has to hide in the corner to test it, and Emory has the feeling that she has a greater capacity than would be safe to fiddle with in the cave in the first place.

More than once she’d let herself dwell on her feelings, leaning into a future she doesn’t expect is very realistic, and felt like she could tug on the air around her to pull it in. Obviously that would have a very different effect in the open than it would in their enclosed space.

“How’s it going over there, Dorothy?” Tony calls out, when she’s finally starting to get tired.

“Come over and see,” she says, looking down at herself. There really isn’t much indication of what’s going on, but she leans over and picks up a handful of the ubiquitous dust from the floor, so she can show him.

Tony’s pulling on a button-up shirt over his black tank top when he walks over. For once, she doesn’t tease him about it, because she’s too busy looking forward to his reaction.

“You might stop calling me Dorothy after this and start calling me the twister,” she says, grinning at him. Her hair’s in a rare ponytail at the top of her head, for once, because the motion of the air she’s meticulously wound around herself had sent her hair into her eyes so often she’d considered chopping all of the red locks off.

“Oh?”

“Watch.”

She holds the handful of dust at chest level and drops it. The multiple vortexes of air chasing around her body catch the flow, taking it along for the ride.

“Holy shit,” Tony says, staring.

Emory grins, feels the potential she’s carrying rise, and twists a fourth vortex around herself. As soon as she does it, though, she can tell it was too many.

“Okay, uh, stand back, that--” she says quickly.

Tony stays put, meaning he gets pelted with dust when Emory essentially plucks one of the ‘packages’ of energy-wrought air from its position winding around her to ‘toss’ it onto the floor in between them. The result is like throwing a localized, miniature tornado; it spins up into the ceiling to scour its surface with the materials it’d picked up on its journey.

“Nice! The culmination of what I did today was hooking up the air compressor on the arm of my suit, something I can’t test without toasting the two of you,” Tony laughs.

“You and your flamethrowers!” Emory says, laughing.

“So, question,” Tony says, advancing on her with one hand outstretched. “Do your vortexes maintain integrity until they come into contact with something? Can you use it for defense?”

“What do--” she starts to say, but Tony’s got a determined scientist look on his face. He snakes out an arm and pulls her up against him, giving Emory a thrill from the decisive movement, right up until he is thrown into the air and spun sideways before landing on his back on the floor.

“Tony!” she says, starting toward him.

“Wait!” he says, holding up both hands. “Just a jolt. Are they still there or would you have to refresh them? Cyclone Armor, Emory. Think big.”

“What if,” he says, pointing at her with one shoe, “You spun a hundred of them around you? Could you deflect projectiles?”

“I am overdue for a thorough, line-item inspection of all of my parts,” Tony says immediately, holding both hands angled back, palm up.

“What--”

“Palm to palm, one leg on either side,” he instructs.

“Do you want me to hurricane this entire place into a disaster area?” she says, walking closer dubiously.

“No, which is why you’re going to do this now instead of arguing with me.” He shakes both palms expectantly.

Emory steps over him and, loving the encouraging anticipation she can see in his brown eyes, rests a palm on each of his.

Then, they both start laughing. Her hands are quite small in comparison to Tony’s. Emory slides her hands up so she can link their fingers, and the searing want that slide engenders weakens her knees. Once they’re locked together, Tony lowers his hands, keeping his knees behind her at just the right angle to support her. His arms don’t shake at all. Tony’s expression is serious and direct, and Emory can barely hold his gaze. There’s so much that he’s promising in that look, and she wants every single second of it.

Just inches before their bodies touch, Tony swears under his breath and surges up, pulling her arms up to his neck and disentangling their hands. He cups the back of her head and Emory's right there with him, sliding her fingers into the sweat-damp hair at the base of his neck right as their lips meet. It's as if he's breathing life into her. Everywhere they're in contact, her skin sings, as if the friction of their touch sparks the chemical reaction of pure joy.

Tony’s other hand grips her hip, and his thumb is brushing across her cheek, the sensation almost as sensual as the kiss itself. Every signal he’s sending her is exactly in line with what she wants to send to him. Emory’s fingertips trail her heart through his hair. Her heartbeat under his palm beats in a rhythm of want, I want, I love, I love you, love you. She’s surrounded by him, and the new but familiar echo of those feelings as manifested by her new powers surge forth. Emory sends them spiraling around them, begging for a delay, a few more seconds with Tony, a few more, just a few more.

Every other time he’d kissed her, Tony had broken the kiss by now, but she can sense his own reluctance to stop in the way his hold on her keeps tightening, as if he’s physically fighting the message his conscience might be sending. Finally, he squeezes the hand at her hip too tight and she lets out a little sound of pain, pulling back and laying her forehead on his shoulder.

“What, you’re not made of metal? Sorry,” he quips, nosing a caress of an apology onto her hairline. She compensates for the way that makes her shiver by slipping her arms up under his, around his back. As she does, Tony starts stammering in seeming confusion. “Uhh. Okay, that’s-- Was that, is that just from that short time? Gonna give me an ego here.”

“You already have one of those,” Emory says, but she lifts her head.

Spinning closely around them is a blurred column of dust and pebbles from the floor of the cave. Before she can stop him, Tony reaches out two fingers to touch it, but instead of breaking the structural integrity of her spontaneous vortex, he simply causes a traveling void where he’s swept away the particles. He pulls back his hand, and seconds later the void ‘heals,’ the dust and dirt redistributing throughout the tunnel.

Tony looks at her, and Emory turns her head back toward him. He jerks his thumb at the rotating phenomenon. “This? is sincerely amazing. But, promise me: no more strange injections, okay?”

Emory’s had that song from Wicked running through her head all afternoon, especially the part where one of the self-centered rich man’s line includes the words ‘there’s no future for us as a pair.’ She’s pushed back her powers in a bid for more time with him, why not push back on the rest of it?

“Why, Mr. Stark, are you… invested?”

Tony leans back and tips his head sideways. The man is seriously attractive, despite being scruffy and dirty after five plus weeks in their cave. More than that, though, is the draw of his quick wit, his genius mind, his gentleness one minute and arrogance the next. Even if someone had told her ahead of time that their plan in confining them was for her to fall for Tony, the very scenario that she’d told Yinsen she would have resisted with all her might? She doesn’t think she would have succeeded in that resistance. Tony narrows his eyes at her, an obviously impish crinkle around them.

“Is this confidence I’m detecting?”

She knows he’s teasing, and it’s an affectionate tease, but it still rankles. “You don’t have to heckle me!”

“I’m not!”

“Tony,” she dangles, but he interrupts her.

“Not heckling. And--” he pauses, lets out a little breath, and flashes her a vulnerable smile. “--yes.”

Emory’s on the verge of asking what the yes is for when it hits her. She’d pulled back to talk to him, but now she reaches out, presses her hands flat on either side of the glowing power source in his chest. Seeing how naked his expression is right now, the way he just admitted something she isn’t sure she’s brave enough to be so blatant about-- it’s making her feel guilty. If they survive this crazy adventure and he’s serious about being invested, however deeply that word is buried into the vulnerability that shines on his face, he’ll be leaving with at least two obvious liabilities.

The least she can do is try to keep him alive with her new powers as much as the reactor in his chest does.

“Sorry about that,” she whispers.

“One step forward, two steps back? Stop waltzing, Emory. Tell me why exactly you think you should be sorry?”

He sounds almost stern, and she looks up from the compelling bright circle under the edge of her thumbs to his face. Tony’s expression is kinder than the tone of his voice, at least.

“For giving you another responsibility, I guess?”

“Oh yes, you’re quite helpless.” To her utter shock, Tony reaches out, spearing his hand into the still spinning column around them, flattening his hand and smacking some of the dust and dirt right in her direction.

“What on--” she gasps, shaking her hair. She has to pull the cloth she’d tied it up in free to get all the dirt out, and since she’s sitting on him, it all goes onto Tony. He uses his other hand to protect his head, and she reaches out, having to brace herself on his shoulder to reach, so she can splash some dirt from the vortex onto him, too.

“Oh, it’s on,” Tony says, tilting sideways to knock her off of his lap.

“Don’t make me drop it on your head!” Emory threatens, but she’s giggling.

“That would be cheating, and you’d feel guilty for days, admit it, Mother Teresa!”

They spend the next few minutes jumping around hitting each other with slaps of debris from the whirlwind around them until there are only a few sections of dust left. Emory can barely see. She’s completely covered in dirt and pebbles, and Tony’s not much better.

“I’m practically blind,” he complains dramatically, wiping his gritty hands on her back before leaning over to drag his face on the fabric of her shoulder to wipe it off.

“Not fair! And aren’t you supposed to keep dirt away from the reactor? Shit!” she says, brushing his chest off.

“Oh shit,” Tony says, his tone deep and regretful. It pulls Emory back from the amused abyss with a sharpness that fills her with fear. When she looks over to where Tony’s looking, though, she doesn’t know whether to laugh or feel even more guilty.

Yinsen is standing on the other side of the waning vortex with his arms crossed. He looks like a school headmaster catching them as they sneak back into their dormitories drunk as hell.

Emory supposes their behavior isn’t that far off.

“I only hope this was not visible,” Yinsen says in a clipped, disapproving tone.

She can sense that its power is mostly sustained by momentum, so Emory reaches out and mentally dispels the rest of its lateral movement. It’s enough for the whole structure to collapse into nothingness.

“I’m sorry,” she offers, dropping her gaze and her arms to her sides.

“I’m sure you will be, since it has been quite a while since they’ve bothered to offer enough water with which to wash.”

With that, Yinsen turns on his heel and walks away, shaking his head as he goes.

“It took every single fiber of my being not to toss this handful of dirt at him,” Tony says, stretching out one large hand to show her.

Next chapter, Tony decides he needs to pause a little bit on his armor to come up with some armor for Emory, because it's becoming very clear that he cannot let himself lose her.

#tony stark #tony stark fanfiction #tony stark x oc #tony stark x original character #iron man fanfiction #iron man #iron man x oc #iron man x original character #mcu #mcu fanfiction #mcu fanfic #marvel #marvel fanfic #tony stark imagine #series: autonomy #ocfairygodmother #fyeahsuperverseocs

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invisibleraven · 2 years

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calmly reassuring the other it’s okay when they drop a glass, gently checking their hands for any injury. for Reggie/Willie (or Reggie&Willie) please and thank you

When things got too bad at home, Reggie usually made the decision to head to Julie's place. She understood his need to not be anywhere near his parents without asking questions. Just ushers him in and cleans him up if it was a particularly bad night, and lets him finish off her ice cream. Julie's a good friend like that.

Of course, once Ray answered the door instead, and he took one look at Reggie and swore. He had social workers on the phone within the hour, and by the end of the week, was Reggie's legal guardian. It took him almost no time to come to think of this house as home, of the Molina's as family.

Thus Ray Molina's home for sad musician boys became a thing.

Luke spent more time out in the studio than anywhere else, though Ray always told him there was a place for him inside the house. But Luke didn't want to get too comfortable, still unused to trusting adults after his own parents had thoroughly disappointed him due to their lack of support.

Alex then started spending Sunday mornings there, knowing that even though Julie's family was pretty damn Catholic, they were also supportive. Their church didn't preach hellfire and damnation, in fact they openly flew a rainbow flag, and Alex soon found himself the favourite of all the aunties whenever he accompanied the Molina's to a service.

One Sunday morning, Reggie was yawning as he entered the kitchen. He wasn't one for church, given his Jewish heritage and broken faith, so Ray always allowed him to sleep in instead of coming. Reggie, grateful for his understanding, always made them a delicious brunch for when they came home. Ray had told him time and time again that he didn't need to do that, but Reggie confessed he loved to cook, so it was no trouble.

What he wasn't expecting when he entered the kitchen was to find Willie sitting on the island, kicking his heels against the cabinets as he drained a glass.

Willie and Alex were stuck in a bit of a will-they-won't-they phase right now, but the skateboarder always seemed to be around, so Reggie was kind of hoping that they would get over themselves and get together soon.

"Morning!" Reggie chirped as he came into view. Willie jumped, his grip on the glass loosening, causing it to fall and shatter.

The sound utterly froze Reggie, vivid flashbacks of all out fights flashing before his eyes, his parents vitriol spewing forth, and he could feel his pulse racing, his lungs heaving. He tried desperately to ground himself, finding things he could see, smell, touch, and taste. Finally he was able to come down, and glanced at where Willie was frantically trying to clean the glass up and apologizing profusely.

"Ooh crap, I am so sorry! I didn't mean to, it's just that you startled me. Not that it's your fault! I shouldn't have been sitting on the counters I know, Caleb tells me all the time, and god he's gonna be so mad. Always breaking stuff, but I can replace it!" Willie rambled.

Despite the panic still slowly thrumming through Reggie's veins, the sank down, placing a hand on Willie's shoulder, causing the word vomit to stop. "Hey Wils, it's okay. It's just a glass. Ray buys cheap ones because we're always here and are pretty clumsy. Plus all of Carlos' friends are none to gentle. He won't be mad, trust me."

"You promise?" Willie asked, his lower lip trembling, eyes watery. "But what about Caleb?"

"We don't have to tell Caleb shit. Ray isn't that kind of dad. He'd be more concerned that you're okay. Now let me see your hands," Reggie said, keeping his voice soft and soothing. He held Willie's hands up, inspecting them for minor nicks and cuts, but thankfully found none. "Okay, all good. I'm gonna get the broom and clean this up."

"But I made the mess!" Willie protested.

"It's okay Willie, I got you," Reggie said with a wink, making quick work of the broken glass, placing it in an empty cereal box so as to not cut up the bag in the garbage. He dusted off his hands, and turned to find Willie still shaken. "You wanna tell me about it while we make brunch?"

Willie held himself tightly, hands disappearing into the sleeves of his sweater. "Not yet. But I can make eggs?"

"Sounds good to me. We like them scrambled, but tia only wants the whites, she's on a health kick lately. Just give Carlos her yolks, he has a game this afternoon and could use the extra calories," Reggie said, handing over the carton as he started on the bacon.

They worked quietly side by side for awhile, Reggie occasionally humming, finally feeling like himself once more. Sure, he still had his triggers, but the grounding that Dr. Butler had taught her helped a lot, as did knowing that nothing bad could happen to him here. Ray would never hurt him. He was safe with that knowledge.

"He doesn't hit me," Willie finally whispered as they finished cooking, Reggie getting a five minute ETA from Julie. "He's just...not nice. Like ever. Or he pretends to be, but only if he wants something."

"No one in the system who's checking up?"

Willie shuddered at that, shaking his head violently. "I can't go back into the foster system again, I just can't. I'm almost 18, I can handle these last few months."

Reggie rubbed over Willie's back gently, then pulled the boy into a fierce hug when he noticed the tear tracks streaming down his face, shushing him as he sobbed.

This was how Ray found them, collapsed on the floor, embracing as Willie still shook with tears. He looked at Reggie, questioning. "We got another one?"

"Think so," Reggie replied.

Ray sighed, wondering how sick the social workers were of hearing from him at this point. But he shucked off his tie and jacket, going off to dial the familiar number.

"One more for Ray Molina's home for sad musician boys?" the social worker asked in a wry tone.

"I actually don't know if he plays," Ray replied.

"I do," Willie said from the doorway, still holding himself tight. "Guitar mostly. But Alex is teaching me drums."

"So that's a yes," came the social worker's voice on the other end, having heard the whole exchange. "Alright Ray, I'll be by tomorrow. You know the drill."

"I do, thanks Abby." Ray then turned to Willie, giving him a gentle, sympathetic smile. "How about we sit, talk about it?" he said, gesturing to the overstuffed couch he kept in his office, and would totally deny that it's sole purpose was for him to nap on.

"C-can Reggie be here for this?" Willie asked.

"Not Alex?"

Willie shook his head. "I want to tell him in private. But Reggie's been through this, I'd like him to be here."

Ray nodded, and called out to the boy that he had come to think of as a son. Reggie bounced over, all open concern and warmth. "What's up papi?"

Ray's heart armed whenever Reggie called him that, and he just had to bring him in to ruffle his hair. "Willie wants you to be here for this part, okay mijo?"

Reggie shoved Ray away playfully, then let his face become serious as he sat on the couch, offering Willie his hand. "Anytime bro. I'm here."

Willie gave a tentative grin, took Reggie's hand, a deep breath, and began to speak.

#filled prompts #ficlet #reggie & willie #julie and the phantoms

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