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#from the time that she got interested in traditional music
ahxu-laowen · 3 months
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the upcoming drama adaptation of the webtoon Jeong Nyeon starring Kim Tae Ri will include sapphic romance involving the main character 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏳️‍🌈
from the interview with the director Jeong Ji In ⬇️
Can we expect romance between the main characters like in the original work?
There is. There are parts that have been dramatized, and there may be differences in the level of acceptance depending on the viewer, but I directed it thinking it was a melodrama. At the time, male and female actors acting out romantic scenes were subject to crackdowns as it was said to be promiscuous, but skinship between women was said to be okay and was overlooked. (Laughs) So there were possible pictures. I heard that at that time, Women Gukgeuk was open to minorities. (cr taeri_yeosin on twitter)
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synopsis: The story takes place in the 1950s after the Korean War came to an end. The protagonist Yoon Jeong Nyeon lives with her mother in Mokpo, far away from the bustling city life. She has no money or education but posesses an innate talent for pansori (Korean genre of musical storytelling). She leaves her town to visit Seoul and joins a traditional Korean musical theater called yeonsong gukgeuk. In yeoseong gukgeuk, an all-female ensemble of theatre actors would take on roles of both women and men to narrate passionate and intense stories of war and love.
The story contains themes of class struggle, gender expression, queer identities, cross-dressing, misogyny and more.
(cr pinkvilla.com, kpopmap.com)
🎨 based on a webtoon by Seo Ireh and Namon
📺 the drama will reportedly consist of 12 episodes and is scheduled to air in 2024, the filming is still ongoing
🎥 directed by Jeong Ji In (The Red Sleeve)
✍️ written by Choi Hyo Bi (A Time Called You)
⭐ starring
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Kim Tae Ri as Yoon Jeong Nyeon
Shin Ye Eun as Heo Young Seo
Woo Da Vi as Hong Ju Ran
Jung Eun Chae as Moon Ok Gyeong
Kim Yoon Hye as Seo Hye Rang
Ra Mi Ran as Kang So Bok
Moon So Ri as Seo Yong Rye
Jang Hye Jin as Han Ki Jun
Oh Gyeong Hwa as Yoon Jeong Ja
Hyun Seung Hee (Oh My Girl) - role unknown
Jung Lael - role unknown
Jung Lael is rumored to play the role of Buyoung, Jeong Nyeon's love interest
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🌸 fun facts:
the illustrator of the original webtoon said that Jeong Nyeon was inspired by Sook Hee from The Handmaiden
the drama is directed and written by women (as is the webtoon)
the webtoon was also adapted to play
@ahxiang @raiko101 @burninglilys @disaster-j @liyazaki @tenprems @tantawans @musicdramalove @sapphorarelyreads @lesbwheein @patrooclus @non-binarypal7 @jeffsatur @dokjam @functionalasfuck @onlyifyoubadd @riamali @handkinkbis @ramblingsofaspect @rrxxfk @odi-et-amo85 @madbeanab @ilargeicontradictmiself @the-movie-enthusiast @panncakes @deshimango @icouldhyperfixatehim @reckiddo @redcliffs @i-got-the-feels @winnysatang-updates @watchingblsnowandforever @dribs-and-drabbles @basicallyafangirlsworld @nanaphat @evdinspiration
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a-998h · 3 months
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Fatui x fem!Creator ft.platonic Pulcinella
@tea333love:Hi, can you write an order? You can write about cult! Sagau fatui harbingers, who found out that creator performs in theater in Sneznaya (imagine that there is a theater in Sneznaya) and one day they decided to go to performance of creator and we're amazed by elegance of dance and can you write what happened then? (Fem! Reader and she is 18 years old). (Romantic fatui harbingers, plantonic Pulcinella).
(La Signora, Childe, Scaramouche, and Arlecchino are in this becuase I can, also spoilers for Scaramouche and La Signora lore)
You have been performing in theaters across Teyvat ever since Yun Jin saw your dancing. At first it was just Liyue, but soon word spread of your skills. At this point everyone knows that you're the Creator, and combined with your skills, it was only a matter of time before other theaters around Teyvat wanted you to perform on their stage.
When it reached the harbingers that you're performing in Snezhnaya, they just had to see you perform. So with the help of Panatlone's money, and their status as harbingers, they got premium seats.
The legends and art of Snehznaya painted you as a motherly, mature figure (a milf). Your titles in Snehznaya was королева сверх жизнь, Queen above life, or simply королева, queen.
Your appearance was discribed to them, but it never said how old you were. When the curtains lifted and you were in full view under the lights of theater, you were dressed in traditional Snehznayan ballet outfit with a white under bodice, purple outer bodice, dark blue skirt, silver accents, and red shoes. You were decorated with stage makeup and costume jewelery silver in color with fake moonstones and rubies. When the music started, so did your dancing.
From their seats, they could see how young you looked. Pulcinella seemed to have his focus torwn between you on stage and a few members of the audience. While most of the audience looked at you in awe and respect, a few held... less than respectful looks. Some members of the audience had the gall to look at you with a hint of lust.
The music started slow, you at first only moved you hands. You moved elegantly in tiem with the music. It was like you were in a trance, your yes were open but it looked like nothing was behnd them.
When the performance reached it's end, the theater filled with applause. The harbingers were in awe, they wanted to know you better. Each of them had their own goals in mind. They left theater, planning a time to meet you face to face.
The next morning you are escorted to the palace and to the meeting room of the harbingers.
After that night, your visit lasts a month, in that month a lot happens. Your time is split between all eleven harbingers, so let's get into that.
Pierro
He is a bit cold at first.
It's not because he doesn't like you, he loves you and but he is emotionally constipated
when is finally able to talk to you, he is watching his words as to not offend you
He is stiff, cold but very knowledgeable
He will take you to the palace library, after stealing you from another harbinger
In the library he sits on the couch closest to the fire, sits you in his lap, and then he starts reading to you or telling you stories from his younger years
He will give you his huge ass jacket, rejctibg the jacket is not an option
Il Capitano
He is the silent bodyguard to you, I will hear no arguments
He cares about you, but unlikey Pierro, who is emotionally constipated, Capitano just doesn't know how to properly show his love for you
If you show an interest in military history, or weapons, or anything like that he will teach you whatever it is you want to know
When the more... unsavory folks approach you he just stands silently behind you and stares
They leave, running as fast as they can
That night at the theater he was entranced by your skills
He would ask for you to dance, only for him
Dottore
He is curious about you
We've seen how he is not opposed to performing human experimentation so with you, a supposed god, he has many ideas
He wants to see how far you can go
But, he also wants to know why you "made" certain things
If you say you don't know or that you can't remember, he'll use that as grounds for making you drink "something to jog your memory"
He sees you as a wealth of knowledge that is all his
He does not care about you as a person
He is not allowed to be left alone with you
Colombina
She loves you
You're the picture of beauty in her eyes
Her and La Signora will team up to pamper you
Will sing you to sleep, you just have to ask
She fell in love when she saw your dancing that night, so like Capitano she will ask you to dance for her
I think she has a baking talent, I.. I don't know why she just seems like she knows how to bake
you will be her taste tester for her baking
She cuddles you to sleep, naps, or anytime she wants to
Arlecchino
I...I don't know where to start
She knows you're a god, but she sees you as weak due to your age
She keeps up her calm, sane persona around her
Another person who is not allowed to be alone with you, but she oftens sneaks you out with her
She loves you, like a person loves a favorite possession
She allows the children at the House of the Hearth to interact with you
She kind of feels something in her cold, dead heart whenever you interact with the children
She only allows people to look at you. No one can touch, speak, breath, or even be near you with her around
She teaches the children to snitch on you or distract you if you try to leave without her
Pulcinella
OH MY GOD!
The second he sees you, and sees how young you are
He is now your unofficial grandfather, he will hear no different
He sees it as a personal mission to protect you, even though you are a powerful god
He will try and teach you new things every day you spend with him
Will feed you a lot "becuase you are a growing girl".
Tries to keep all the young harbingers from dating you
While he can't stop Pierro and Capitano, because they're fossils, he will just make sarcastic remarks and glare at them if they get to close to you
He will teach you chess, and he will play with you
Scaramouche
Oh....Oh he is complecated
As we all know, he has a... complex relationship with gods
Let me rephrase that, he has problems with his archon mom
He is the biggest tsundere to ever tsundere
You couldn't waterboard the fact that he loves you out of him
Will give you things he "happened to find" that reminded him of you.
Will give you gifts but pertends that he didn't put any thought into it, but he did
A brat... that's all
If you offer him cuddles he will act like he doesn't want any
If you stop the cuddles, he will complain
He will demand your affection like a cat
Sandrone
She stares, a lot...
I believe she makes puppets and dolls in your image
She takes you to her workshop
Has you stand still so she can compare materials against you, to find the best one that look closest to your features
Will have nice clothes for you to try on
Will use you as a dress up doll
Puts makeup on you as well
Another that loves you as a possession
When will sit you on her lap at every possible time
La Signora
She is one of the few that loves you as a person
Due to her still greving Rostam she isn't very open with you, at first
When she does open up to you, she will almost suffocate you with love
If you aren't on Sandrone's lap, you're in hers
She will share the knowledge she got from her time in the akademiya
I think she remembers stuff from her life as a Mondstadter
She will sing songs, or parts of songs, she remembers
You are the only person she shows her scar to
She'll give head pats, nose kisses, and neck kisses
She will dance with you or watch will Colombina and Capitano
Tartaglia
This man... where do I even begin
He will try an fight you
It's a way for him to see your strength
When he isn't trying to fight you, he acts as a scary guard dog
Will spoil you
Takes you to meet his family
He is extremely possessive of you
Loves you as a person
Will beg you to show off your powers
He marvels at you powers
Brings you something from every nation he goes to
He makes you go along with the lie he tells Teucer
Pantalone
Is the only normal one
Between him and Sandrone, your closet is overflowing
He likes to take you to shopping
If you feel bad about asking for something due to price, he'll buy it anyway
Will buy you stuff for dancing and any other hobbies you have
Has mini fashion shows with you as the model, sometimes Sandrone is there too
Has you sit near him when he works
Will give cuddles, just ask
Likes to spoil you
Thinks you deserve the best because you're a god
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tantei-chan01 · 2 months
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So I'm not sure if you add in lore from The Beat Goes On or Trollstopia, or if your only focusing on the movies, but some very interesting things that come about from both animated series is that it really adds to Branch's adorable character and canonized the fact that pretty much everyone adores him, awkward dorkiness and all. He's very, very goofy, and I love him.
Some of my favorite funfacts from the series is that Branch goes to 4AM Raves after being introduced to the concept (originally due to a compromise because the TechnoTrolls were using his favorite hot spring for it turned to a genuine love), likes all types of music after being introduced to it, loves puzzles to an obsessive degree along with his other more natural OCD tendencies, and actually did take part in all the different Holidays and traditions of the Pop Trolls even while be was gray but did so form the safety of his bunker. Its also during these series we get the first hints the bunker meant more to Branch than what we had originally thought.
My favorite favt is the one about the rave, though. Just imagine they all get back from the events of Band Together, after JD got his rights punched out by Barb and they all take some time to rest and relax, and then the brothers are woken up by Branch trying to sneak out at like 4 in the morning (he's not used to people in the bunker and has gotten used to not having to sneak around anymore after everything) and find out it's because their adorable, mute baby brother is going to a RAVE with some technotroll who keeps calling him Dubstep.
There's a reason why I put up a poll, the result changes the storyline of trollstopia
About 2 months after Floyd's rescue and the integration of the Putt-Putt trolls, Poppy comes up with the idea of Trollstopia. After everything that's happened, she realizes that the Pop trolls are behind in many things, like medicine, education, and engineering. They've mastered agriculture, effective natural remedies (with the exception of Branch due to him being rare case), and the art of desserts but not much else. If Trollstopia works, every troll will benefit from it.
Poppy pitches this idea to Branch and his brothers (Bruce is back at Vacay Island and visits often thanks to the Flier Bugs.). They think it's a good idea, but it will take the cooperation of every tribe to make it work. Aside from Branch and JD, none of the other trolls have been in one place together for an extended period of time. Floyd rarely went to the other genres territories, Bruce has only interacted with the occasional Techno troll that washed up on the shore, and Clay's never left the Putt-Putt course. Poppy urges that this would be a great step to achieve Harmony, even if it'll be hard. Branch agrees to help with the condition that he can invite the sub-genre tribes. Poppy readily agrees, and so begins the first step of Trollstopia
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satoruoo · 4 months
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VIA VIA VIA HEAR ME OUT. secret santa b they get u and accidentally spill it / the big reveal…
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(NOT SO) SECRET SANTA - aki hayawaka
summary: despite aki's best efforts to keep your gift a secret, his (stupid) roommates somehow manage to spoil the surprise.
genre: fluff, non-devil au, everyone is happy, crack
warnings: swearing, denji, f!reader, suggestive
notes: hope u like it babe !! this is my apology for the recent aki slander 😈🔥
now playing: rockin' around the christmas tree - brenda lee
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"for the millionth time, do not tell [name] i got her, understood?"
denji and power sit crossed-legged on the floor, looking only half interested in what aki is saying. they're dressed in christmas gear from head to toe, heads swaying slightly to the christmas music coming from the record player.
power looks awfully happy with the pair of antlers that denji unwillingly brought her from the store after she threatened to throw a fit in the middle of the aisle. they're decorated with little bells, and every time she nods her head, aki can visibly tell how delighted she is from the jingles that they make. she now refuses to take them off.
denji's gone for a more traditional approach, sporting a santa hat with a light up pom pom at the end.
(the hat also says "ho! ho! ho!" if the button on the left is pressed, but denji had overused it so much that aki cut it open and took out the speaker. he then burnt the speaker. denji was told told it must have broken.)
"duh, i ain’t a snitch!" denji claims, saluting his roommate with a shit-eating grin. he would snitch, aki is fully aware of that. bribe him with a lollipop or a tit squeeze? done deal.
"why are we not allowed to tell her?" power asks, fiddling with rudolph's nose on her christmas jumper.
aki audibly groans, fingers working at his temples in exasperation. "because, it’s a secret santa. we aren’t supposed to tell anyone who we got."
power's face twists in mild disgust, "what is the point of that?! just give me my present now!"
aki rolls his eyes, raking his fingers through his dark hair, "because it builds the suspense, power. do you want to have all your gifts now and have none on christmas day?"
she seems to quieten at that, closing her eyes as she mulls over his words. after three agonizing seconds of her silence and aki wondering whether it'd be easier to just throw himself out of the nearest window, power pouts and nods.
denji dramatically sighs before aki can say anything further, slapping her twice on the back in an attempt to comfort her, "i feel ya, powey."
the girl mirrors the sigh, slumping against denji as she flips aki off with a scowl.
"you should thank me, human! i will not go and tell [name] that you have her!" she declares smugly, resting her body weight on the male next to her.
aki vaguely hears "ow, fuck! power, y’re crushin’ me! how the fuck are ya so heavy?!" and a loud slap that probably came from power as he walks away.
• . ✿ ° × . *.
aki really does try his hardest to keep the secret.
he finds himself slapping a hand over denji's mouth when he almost lets it spill, and shoving a piece of food into power's when the topic of the secret santa comes up.
it's only halfway through december. he doesn't know how much longer he can keep this up. he can tell you're starting to pick up on something fishy and it's beginning to stress him out.
"and so aki has-"
"what are you doing?"
power freezes up at the sound of aki's voice, head lifting from your lap as she scrambles to defend herself.
"nothing!" she says a pitch higher than usual.
your eyes narrow at aki who sends a subtle glare in power's direction before taking a seat beside you on the couch. you're immediately taking his hand in yours, rubbing the pad of your thumb over his knuckles to soothe his anger.
the man melts so quickly that it should be embarrassing, shoulders relaxing with a simple touch.
"she was telling me about secret santa," you fill in gently, "something about who everyone has."
power wishes she was dead.
the glare that aki gives her makes certain that she'll be banned from chocolates for at least a week. that's practically the same as death.
"was she now?" aki asks, an angry rumble in his throat.
the girl is looking at anything but his face; when had the wall become so interesting? look at that, is that a new vase? what are denji's pornos doing on the floor-
"why don't you tell both of us, power?"
before anything else can be said, she shoots up from her spot on the couch sweating bullets.
"meowy needs to shit!" is all she says before leaving the room at hurricane speeds. (if only she were that quick to close her mouth.)
you smile, turning to look at your boyfriend with a raised eyebrow.
"so?" you question, idly threading your fingers through his.
"so, what?" aki responds.
he can tell from the way a small laugh escapes those pretty lips that playing dumb isn't going to work.
"nothing, just a bad day." he tries, resting his head in the crook of your neck.
"you're snapping at power because of a 'bad day'?" you state, scepticism evident in your tone. "righhhht."
aki chuckles into your flesh, placing a chaste kiss there before pulling away. "yeah, that's all."
you press a kiss to his lips, tongue swiping over his. "sure, okay. i'll let you have this one, handsome."
the edges of his mouth tip up at the nickname and silent relief fills his veins at the clarification that you won't push the matter.
"thanks, love."
• . ✿ ° × . *.
aki swears on his life that he tries his hardest to keep the secret.
it's just that denji and power are not good secret keepers. they're a pair of loudmouths who are easily bribed. if not for your presence to keep him sane, aki's sure he would have strangled denji and confiscated power's antlers. actually, he's sure that if the gift he'd gotten you wasn't so important, he'd have let his roommates tell you already.
"makima, c'monnnn! i licked the floor so ya owe me a tit squeeze!" denji whines in a kneeling position on the floor.
going out for christmas lunch with you, his two roommates and makima may be one of the best and worst decisions aki's ever made in his life.
power still has her antlers on with a scarf wrapped tightly around her neck, you had to persuade her to wear it, as she makes fun of her friend. there are still remnants of the snowball fight he was forced to engage in on her coat, and her nose is pink from the one denji threw in her face.
denji is as desperate as ever - shame didn't seem to find a place in his vocabulary. his purposefully broken santa hat is still finding a home atop his dirty blonde hair, though the pom pom looks like it's about to give up and fall off.
you on the other hand look ethereal in his eyes, a smile etched into your gorgeous features. with every small giggle that escapes your lips, aki feels his chest constrict almost painfully, heart thumping loudly within his ribcage.
you're still holding his hand; you have been for the past three hours.
"only if you tell me who aki has for secret santa, denji." makima answers, voice silky smooth.
it's meant as a joke 100%. everyone else in the room, even power, understood the joke. curse aki for forgetting denji's inability to read social cues.
"he has [name]!!"
on december 23rd, the day before christmas eve, denji tells makima who he has for secret santa in exchange for a tit squeeze. typical.
there's silence for a while. no one really knows what to say. all eyes are on the dark-haired male who genuinely seems to be in the middle of a breakdown.
denji's all frozen up and fully ready to make a run for it if needs be.
"i already know he has me, though." you say, confused.
comically, multiple heads whip towards you.
"...you do?" aki breathes, annoyance towards denji disappearing as fast as it came.
"well if you didn't already know, you suck at keeping secrets, honey. i've known for ages."
part of him feels relieved. if you already knew, then technically he didn't fuck up. technically, it didn't even count-
"it doesn't take a genius to figure it out, you know."
"for real, bro. i knew ya sucked ass like in general but not at lying as well-"
denji will be dead by morning.
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BONUS:
"your secret santa gift was an engagement ring?" power asks, mortified.
"what a shitty gift!" denji pipes up, "it's not even edible- ow!"
you chuckle, fiddling with the ring that fits perfectly around your finger as aki smacks denji's arm.
"really? i think it's a wonderful gift." you muse, "it'll last way longer than food."
"so what?! food stays in your tummy forever!" power argues with her hand pointing at her stomach.
"no the fuck it doesn't! ya shit it out, duh!"
their bickering falls upon deaf ears as aki steals a sneaky kiss from you.
"merry christmas, [name]. i hope we'll spend many more together." his cheeks are definitely not dusted pink as he says that. not at all.
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lucvly · 4 months
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i loved your chris x latina gf hc’s. could you please do one for us matt girls 🙏
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— matt with a latina girlfriend hcs! ⸰ 𖥔 ͙
warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol, not proofread.
a/n: the amount of reqs i got for this omg??? also i feel the need to say i’m latina but i’m not mexican LMAO sorry to disappoint ☹️
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— this isn’t matthew anymore this is mateo LMAO.
— my man was nervous about meeting your family. he kind of got freaked out hearing about the amount of people that were gonna be at the gathering.
— he asked you to help him practice greeting your family LMAOO it’s so cute. (“so, no handshakes?” “not unless you wanna get kicked out, mi vida.”)
— the family’s favorite gringo boyfriend !!
— sorry to burst some of your bubbles but this man cannot dance. sorry Not sorry !!! him dancing merengue or salsa would be sooo goofy. you tried teaching him but he just ends up stepping on you.
— your tías always try to dance with him unknowingly and he always steps on them LMFAOOAOA.
— at family gatherings he’s in the kitchen helping your mom cook and serve the food.
— you get a good laugh out of it because when your mom lets him try a spoonful of whatever she’s making his ass always has to drink at least two glasses of water because my god this man can’t tolerate spice.
— he’s always wanting to learn something new about your culture. he thinks the traditions and celebrations are super interesting.
— the fact that you’re incredibly family oriented is so attractive to him help??? he loves it. seeing you interact with your little cousins is so cute to him.
— ++ your little cousins always leech onto him at the gatherings. you’re convinced one of your baby cousins has a crush on him it’s hilarious.
— the first time you called him gringo he was like Huh??? you had to explain what it meant LMAO, your family calls him gringo a lot in a very loving way but it’s still Really funny.
— he’s such a kid bye? he’s exactly like one of those primos who’s absolutely wiped out by 10 pm. you always end up making those makeshift beds with two chairs and a blanket for him so he can take a nap.
— “y el novio?” except now your family just teases you because they know wherever you are, matt’s right there with you.
— your dad loves telling him embarrassing stories about you from back when you were a kid. it’s so bad ugh.
— surprisingly, he’s actually a really good cook. he’ll secretly ask your mom for your favorite recipes and make them for you. you think it’s the cutest thing ever. (he’s not very precise with the spices but he’s getting there.)
— takes spanish lessons without telling you so when you hear him talk to one of your tíos in spanish you’re like ?????
— he can’t roll his r’s SORRY!! you tease him for it all the time, so does your family. he thinks it’s funny because you’ve tried to help him pronounce “carro” or “burrito” over a thousand times and he still can’t do it.
— when he’s not driving, he sits in one of those plastic chairs in the backyard and drinks ice cold beer with your tíos.
— i feel like he’d be terrible at alcohol management so he’d be drunk with around three beers. your tíos get along so well with drunk matt, trust.
— spanish pet names?? he’s all for it. (“cariño”, “corazón”, “querido”.)
— + right before hanging up a call, he goes “te amo.” it’s SOO cute you’re gushing ugh.
— he definitely can’t dance but he loves listening to spanish music. i feel like he’d be a huge romeo santos and ozuna fan. argue w the wall !!
— he was so confused when you told him to take a bite of his cake and then pushed his face onto it. chris and nick were rolling on the floor laughing (he ended up doing it to them as well.)
— he asks if you can get some tres leches for his birthday because he loves it LMAOO. your dad introduced him to tres leches and it’s all he thinks about on a daily basis.
— he’s tried learning the cumpleaños feliz song– and yeah, he knows half of it, but he hasn’t managed to learn it all LMAO.
— if you grew up somewhere else, he desperately wants to go to your hometown just to get to know you better. when you do, he does everything to indulge in your culture. (going to festivals, meeting the people you grew up with, etc.)
— he loves obleas and arroz con leche. he thought arroz con leche was hella odd at first glance but once you convinced him to try it he was addicted HELP??
— ^ your mom gave him some arroz con leche to take back home because of the amount he ate throughout the whole night.
— when your family facetimes you and you’re with him it’s always: “bueno, y la boda cuándo es?” and once they say hello to you, they ask about matt and end up talking to him over the phone for like an hour.
— when you yell at him in spanish he’ll just wait until you stop and then asks you what that meant because he genuinely wants to know. his head is all: “wtf does maldito mean????”
— trying traditional candy from wherever you’re from is sooo funny. he’d be so obsessed with dulce de leche and arroz con leche, but make that man try any sort of candy with coconut in it (cocadas perhaps) and he’s fucking throwing up.
— his personal youtube channel would be active as fuck, at this point it became a vlog for the two of you with videos like: “trying traditional snacks with my gf!”, “cooking competition with y/n (she won)”, “traveling with my girlfriend.”
— he loves how many photo albums your family has. he especially loves your quinceañera album LMFAOO. you think it’s hella embarrassing because you were literally fifteen but he thinks it’s the cutest thing ever.
— when you cook, matt always takes some food back home and his brothers end up eating it. he gets so pissed because he strictly tells them not to touch that and since they know you cooked it, they steal it LMAO.
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azfellandco · 7 months
Note
Hi friend this ask is a request for you to wax lyrical about Crowley slowly dying of a poisonous dose of laudanum, because it seems That Scene is still on all our minds. <3
Godbless (they said agnostically). This is going to be a mess of a response because I have been working a lot of overtime and am pretty sleep deprived, and also because there are a lot of angles to this.
First off: you're so correct to point out that laudanum is an analgesic and not literally a poison, because I think this slots in so nicely with the pattern of stuff we see Aziraphale consume and why (food and wine, for sensual pleasure) and stuff we see Crowley consume and why (alcohol for numbing and six shots of espresso to brace himself, and now laudanum, a medical grade numbing agent, at a dosage that would have killed Elspeth had he not intervened).
To really get into this I'm going to have to talk a little about something I have a lot of approximate knowledge about: Victorian era medicine. Why I find poison sexy (maybe compelling is a better word here) is partially tied up in the Victorian era and this exact subset of knowledge, which I am going to disclaim right now as not very precise. I research stuff primarily to regurgitate it in fiction, and not for complete factual accuracy.
First off, let's take a moment to admire Crowley's prognosticative abilities once again.
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Antiseptic is 25 years off, germ theory is held in disdain by the western world, but here's Anthony "that went down like a lead balloon" Crowley just trying to be helpful to this guy covered in blood.
Antiseptic was not in common medical and surgical use until the 1850s. It was pioneered by Joseph Lister, who actually worked at the University of Edinburgh, which was kind of the place to be in terms of medical breakthroughs of this time period. Before the advent of washing your hands and sterilizing surgical equipment, something like 2/3rds of surgical patients died either on the operating table or of infection afterwards. Medicine during this time period was difficult, dangerous work with a high risk of complications, and surgery was haunted by death and disease. Dr. Darymple would have administered laudanum to a patient and then strapped their limbs down and put something in their mouth so they didn't bite through their tongue before cutting into them, and even if he was a good surgeon they might have died a week later from gangrene or sepsis anyway.
It's in this world that laudanum and opium more generally got romanticized by literature and poetry. The Victorians loved opium, but the symbolism of the poppy, from which opium is derived, has been sleep and death since the classical world. My go-to example of the blending of these themes (poppies as sleep and death symbolism and this time period's interest in the classical world) is The Garden of Proserpine by Algernon Charles Swinburne, of which I will include an excerpt below:
No growth of moor or coppice,          No heather-flower or vine, But bloomless buds of poppies,          Green grapes of Proserpine, Pale beds of blowing rushes Where no leaf blooms or blushes Save this whereout she crushes          For dead men deadly wine.
The symbolic connection between opium (and thus laudanum) and sleep and death is my strongest association with either drug. The poppies = death association is used all the time even in the modern day. See this song, Flowers, from the musical Hadestown:
Lily white and poppy red I trembled when he laid me out "You won't feel a thing," he said, "When you go down" Nothing gonna wake you up now
Poppy symbolism is doing a lot of work in this song, actually, drawing a line between virginity and death, and the flower imagery standing in for both Euridyce's sexual relationship with Hades as well as her death but I disgress.
This is my personal context for laudanum and opium. I think it's encouraged to read the sleep and death connection into both of these medicines, both by the artistic tradition that arose contemporaneously with their use and by continued references back to it in the modern day. I am thinking of the scene in Inception where the opium den they visit is full of people who go to be drugged in order to dream their lives away as just one of many other modern day examples. Opium is sleep and sleep is death.
So while the laudanum is not literally poison, I think there is cultural context in which it is possible to read it as symbolically poison, regardless of whether Crowley's not-actually-human body should be able to withstand it. I think that it is compelling to read it as such, given the above-mentioned pattern of Crowley's habits of consumption.
I've seen a lot of posts about how the next time Aziraphale and Crowley see each other after this flashback is the time Crowley asks Aziraphale to bring him holy water and Aziraphale refuses on the grounds that he won't provide Crowley with a suicide pill. While I think this says more about Aziraphale than it does about Crowley (Crowley has never struck me, by behavior or attitude, to be the kind of person who would kill themself, whereas for Aziraphale one of the worst things that could happen would be losing Crowley) there is something there, something in that tartan thermos, something in the idea that Crowley would drink his death.
There is one more angle to this, and this is going to be a bit of a reach. I once read an analysis post in another fandom about the symbolism of poison as a choice of weapon. This line will haunt me until my grave: "a man stabs, a woman poisons". Just as a sword is a phallic symbol, poison (to me) is a feminine coded way to kill another person. For more context, please read The Laboratory by Robert Browning, a poem about a woman procuring a poison to kill her husband's lover, written by another Victorian poet. Crowley dying being discorporated by self-administered poison compels me for all the reasons mentioned above but also for gender reasons. Nonbinary icon.
Crowley dying being discorporated by self-administered poison feels like it is in conversation with two events that happen chronologically later but narratively earlier: the "suicide pill" conversation and Crowley trying to wait out the apocalypse in the bar after the bookshop burned. For all intents and purposes he seems to have given up at that point and only pulls himself together because Aziraphale appears to him and proves he isn't gone gone. It makes sense as an exploration of Aziraphale's anxieties (the suicide pill convo), and the extent to which they might be justified (Crowley drinking as the world ends). It's interesting it's compelling it's symbolically rich it's consistent with characterization choices in the show.
I think realistically Crowley would keep from Aziraphale that he was in pain until he physically couldn't do so, because it would threaten the wall they've had to erect to keep each other safe to do otherwise, but in a scenario where Crowley was hurt, properly hurt, Aziraphale would find a way to excuse them because he would not stand for Crowley suffering.
Just...
The idea of Aziraphale gathering Crowley close in the dark graveyard, feeling him stumble, Crowley who is so bright and brave and beautiful reduced to clutching to Aziraphale and the pair of them trying to will him back to health the way they can choose to sober up, and failing... Crowley because by this point he's too weak, he waited too long putting up a front for Aziraphale, Aziraphale because of conflicting magic or because he's too anxious, his own personal moment of the gun shaking in Crowley's hands during the bullet catch, where he knows what he has to do but he can't do it, can't trust himself not to make it worse.
And then Crowley's body going cold, Aziraphale holding it and crying because despite knowing it's just a body and that Crowley can get another one, he failed to protect him. Crowley died for someone and Aziraphale couldn't prevent it. And the things they don't say to each other, all rushing in to fill the silence left by Crowley's stopped breath. Aziraphale whispering to him, kissing his temple, part of him wondering if he'd ever be able to do this if he wasn't already gone.
It would just be really good, okay. It would be really good.
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majornaxxx · 6 months
Text
Favorite Girl
ღJake Sully x fem human reader
ღ Synopsis: Jake Sully always said you were his favorite girl. When he finally mated with Neytiri, you had become aware of your feelings for him. Now, a year later, you're beginning to think you aren't his favorite girl anymore.
ღ Warnings: NSFW MINORS DNI🔞, angst, unfaithful Jake, reader passing out drunk, oral sex, p in v, one sided love
A/n This is by far the HARDEST thing I've ever written and I really hope it doesn't suck LOL the end def fell short, because I didn't know how to end it. This took so damn long.
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Exactly one year since the Omaticaya had driven the sky people out.
Exactly one year since Jake Sully, your best friend, had permanently began living in his avatar body and became Olo'eyktan of the clan.
The na'vi celebrated with a feast, music, drink, dancing, any kind of festivities anyone could imagine. The bonfire roared as their tall bodies danced around it, completely dressed in beautiful flowy beaded clothing, and some, not much at all. They yipped and laughed and sang their songs in joy that Eywa continued to keep them safe from the demons that had plagued their forest.
Everybody except for you. Of course, it was not like you weren't happy for the same reasons as everyone else. Tucked away into a corner, completely still as to at least keep some part of your nipples covered as you had donned the traditional clothing of the Na'vi for the occasion. You covered your chest with your arm, looking down and sipping a bit of the drink Jake had brought you a while before. Until now, it had gone untouched.
"Fuck-" You coughed, hitting your chest with your fist as you choked at the burn. Na'vi liquor wasn't something to fuck around and find out with. After a few more mortifyingly loud hacks you quickly set the drink down and sighed. Eyes locked on Jake, you watched him dance with Neytiri. His mate. Mate for life.
A harsh panging in your chest caused your hand to once again pick up the drink and bring it to your lips. It was no secret to you that you harbored feelings for the ex marine, only you hadn't realized until he had been mated with Neytiri. It infuriated you. Neytiri wasn't a bad mate to him, that much you knew, but it didn't stop the jealousy from bubbling in your gut every time you got a glimpse of their domestic life.
As if reading your mind, the pair looked in your direction, Jake whispering something to Neytiri and then beginning to make his way over. As he leaned against the tree behind you, you simply drank your drink and avoided his gaze, ignoring the burning sensation in your throat. "Are you going to spend the whole party standing around? You could come dance with me and Neytiri." He nudged his head in the direction of his mate.
"Nono, I'm alright." You looked up at him, forcing a smile. "I can't exactly keep my nipples covered if I go dance,". Jake looked you over before giving a hearty chuckle. "Is the outfit what you're worried about? You're just fine, nobody is going to judge you. They're less of tops and more like decoration anyway." He brought his own drink to his lips, obviously taking it way better than you had.
"Plus, it looks bad on me when my best friend is the only one not dancing." He snickered. At that you roughly poked his belly, causing him to yelp. Neytiri appeared beside him a moment later and you quickly resumed being very interested in your drink, scanning the rest of the party.
"Do they not know how to dance?" You heard from beside you as Neytiri tried to make that statement known to you at less as possible. Jake shook his head and whispered something back about "moping around" and you shrunk down into yourself, finishing off the last of your cups contents. "I'm alright.." you mumbled. You had no reason to be upset with Neytiri, as she was nothing but friendly and concerned for you, you knew that. But that fact in turn pissed you off even more.
The low booming drums suddenly switched to a much faster tempo than they had been previously, and a type of whimsical horn joined the music. Neytiri let out a gleeful whooping sound and whispered something to Jake before leaning down to your much shorter level. "I must go, but please tell me if I can help. You mean a lot to Jake, and in return you mean a lot to me." The casual display of affection surprised you and you made an involuntary "uhh" noise as she spoke. "If the problem is that you cannot dance, I can teach you." With that, she flashed a grin at you, and bounded off to join the group that was forming beside the fire.
God, you felt like shit. A pit of guilt began forming in your gut and Jake noticed the significant change in your demeanor. "Hey, hey, Y/n what's going on?" He knelt down beside you, placing his hands on your shoulders. "Talk to me."
"I'm fine." You shrugged out of his grip, wanting nothing more than to not have to talk about it. "Let's go dance." Jake furrowed his brows and his right ear flicked. "Babygirl something is up, come on what's going on?" He rested his hand on one of his thighs. The unexpected nickname caused you to stop momentarily and then shake your head. "I said I'm fine, and I want to go dance." Trying your hardest to get out of this situation.
"Y/n-" "Jake." You interrupted him. "Please, I'm okay." You looked up at him with big eyes, sending him a small smile. "You and Neytiri uh.. cheered me up!" Jake didn't seem to believe that before he sighed, and shook his head as a smile came to his face. "Glad to see you're doing better." He patted your shoulders.
"That's my favorite girl."
As soon as that left his mouth, a quiet strangled noise left your own. You didn't know the last time you heard him tell you that, and it felt like a sucker punch to the gut. You knew for a fact, you weren't his favorite girl.
"Oh goddamn, are you alright?" He leaned down a bit, surprised at your reaction. "Yeah I think I drank too much..-" You stuttered, ignoring the tears pricking at your eyes. "Just need something to wash it down."
Frantically looking around, you grabbed the first thing with a drink in it that looked like water, and immediately regretted chugging it. It was not definitely not water. "Ugh- Fuck!" You coughed. "Woah woah take it easy!" Jake chuckled. "Slow down.."
"I'm fine." You said, pushing Jake to the side and stalking off into the crowd of Na'vi, ignoring the tears sliding down your face. "I want to dance." You needed to get out of there.
"Y/n-!" Ignoring his voice, you lost him in the crowd as best you could, mimicking the dance moves of the figures around you. The music swelled, your chest felt tight, your throat burned and you felt as if you couldn't breathe.
How much had you drank? You'd lost count when you began to sway, the sounds of the instruments reverberating in your chest. Any worry you had about your nipples were completely gone, not caring about whether or not your chest "decoration" stayed in place.
Heart pounding in your chest, you began to wonder where Jake had gone. Where had he left you? The absence of his presence sent a sense of panic down your spine and you stumbled back to what you hoped was the general direction of where you'd come from. "Jake?" You groaned. "Mmph.. Jake..?"
Your hand caught on something and you used that to hold yourself up. You were horribly drunk, and horribly upset. "Jake!" You cried out, tears beginning to slip down your face. Was that him? You thought you saw him, but then suddenly he was all the way across the camp. Legs wobbling, you slowly let go of your leverage, attempting to take a step. The last thing you saw was the ground right by your face before you blacked out.
Hands gently ran down your sides as Jake held you. Laying bare, next to each other in your shared kelku, arms wrapped around his shoulders and his around your waist. Jake gently kissed up your neck, leaving the occasional bite and kiss behind. Heat pooled in your stomach, making Jake purr in anticipation. He gently rolled you onto your back and tapped your thighs, spreading them eagerly.
You smiled sweetly up at him, and he leaned down to kiss the inside of your thighs, glancing up at you ever so often. "You drive me crazy, Y/n.." He growled, running his tongue up your thigh towards your achingly warm cunt, completely bared to him.
"Fuuck, Jake, stop teasing me!" You whimpered, gently smacking his hands grabbing at the soft flesh on your thighs. "You know I don't like to- ohh..!" You were cut off by him running his large and hot tongue between your folds. Back arched, head and eyes rolling back, you let out a cry of pleasure.
It was so warm and wet, and felt amazing when Jake ran the flat of his tongue over your clit. He was making noises that sounded positively feral, and sent sparks all the way down to your pussy. He reached up, one large hand absolutely engulfing one of your breasts, squeezing and kneading the flesh.
He pointed his tongue and began to make circles over the sensitive bud, roughly pinning your hips down to the bed when you began to thrust your hips upwards. "Down." He commanded, voice deep and rough. He continued his attack on your pussy as you cried out so loudly you thought the entirety of Pandora could hear you. His head was so big between your thighs, and you put your legs over his shoulders to make it more comfortable.
"Fuuuck, Jakeee...!" Whining as your orgasm approached you. So close. He slipped one of his digits inside of you causing you to squeal, pumping it inside of you. "Oh my god," Tears pricked at your eyes, the coil in your stomach winding tighter and tighter.
"I'm gonna cum, Jake!" Hands frantically looking for something to grab, they landed in Jake's hair. He growled as you began to gently tug. "Then cum, baby.." He panted into your cunt. You were almost there, almost..
The screeching of a nearby Ikran caused you to stir, slowly blinking and opening your eyes. The sunlight that poured into the room hurt your head, and you groaned and curled up underneath the blanket that had been put over you. Taking a deep breath, your breath hitched and you sat up.
Somebody had slipped a T-shirt on overtop your Na'vi getup. A dark grey oversized RDA Tshirt. Suddenly you became very aware of the nauseous feeling in your stomach as you realized where you were. Jakes kelku. You scrambled to get up and immediately fell onto the floor as a wave of pain and nausea hit you.
"Y/n?" A voice called from a few feet away. Neytiri made her way over and pulled you to your feet, smoothing your shirt and offering you a container of water. "Be careful, you are very fragile. You drank too much." She purred. You weren't exactly in the position to argue, and took the water, the cold easing your sore throat.
"Jake brought you back. You passed out in the middle of the village, he was very worried about you." She sat down on the hammock you'd been laying on. "Is he.. here?" You croaked, smoothing your hair back. "Yes, he's outside with Tuk. She wanted to see you but we felt you were better left undisturbed." Her tail swished behind her.
"oh." Your stomach twisted. Was he angry with you? A part of you didn't particularly want to find out, but you set the water down anyway and slowly, carefully, made your way outside, bare feet sinking into the dirt. Jake and Tuk were sitting down a few feet away, Tuk gleefully weaving a pretty bracelet, while Jake did his own a bit less skillfully.
His ear twitched and he turned to look at you, standing up and hurrying over, much to Tuks dismay. One of his big hands came up and grabbed your face and he knelt down in front of you. "Are you alright?" His face was stern, like the one he used on Lo'ak when he misbehaved. It made you shrink into yourself, and you awkwardly grabbed your arm over your chest. "I'm fine, Jake. I actually came to.. apologize."
He furrowed his brows and frowned. "You just drank a little heavy is all." To that you shook your head. "No, Jake, I'm really sorry." You knew he didn't know what you were apologizing for, but you continued on anyway, guilt brewing in your gut at your own feelings. Neytiri peeked her head out at the two of you.
"Woah, babygirl, hey." Jakes hand dropped to your shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. You shook your head and looked down at your feet, realizing that this is the most you were ever going to have from him. "I need to go." You said quietly, biting your lip. "Y/n-" "No. I have to go." You looked up at him, moving his arm away. Your hand bumped your face and you realized with a start it was wet, not noticing the tears that had begun to stream down your face.
"I can't be here Jake, I'm sorry." Still facing Jake, you began to stumble away towards the camp exit. "Thank you for-" you tripped and caught yourself, "-helping me.. but I need to get back." You sniffled. He stood, staring down at you with a hurt and concerned expression. Neytiri came beside him, putting her hand on his shoulder and shaking her head. That simple action filled you with dejection and you quickly turned, hurrying yourself back towards the lab.
The next week was extremely rough, wallowing in your own feelings in your self imposed isolation. You did want to see Jake, you wanted nothing more, but you couldn't. The feelings had gotten so bad that even a thought of Jake would lead you down a rabbit hole of thoughts that made your stomach twist. So, instead, you settled for locking yourself in your quarters.
Sighing and rolling onto your back, you stared up at your ceiling, and then turned your head to look at Jake's RDA shirt on your side table, crumpled up due to the fact that you couldn't bring yourself the strength to get up and fold it. You hadn't spoken to anybody else about what had happened, opting to only ask that you not be bothered, and locking yourself up.
All at once you groaned and reached up to put your hands over your face, closing your eyes. You laid there like that for a moment before sighing, completely defeated. The sound of your door opening caused you to groan once more, sitting up. "Please go away, I want to be alone right now-" Your voice cut off with a start as you realized it was Jake in front of you.
He ducked under the doorway, one hand gripping onto the top, and made his way over to where you sat on your bed. He stared down at you with concern and opened his mouth to say something, before stopping. He waited a moment before finally speaking. "What's going on with you, Y/n?"
"nothing" you snapped, turning away from him. God, this was so not how you wanted him to see you. Thankfully, you'd showered that morning but your bed was messy, an empty food container on your side table. You wore an old pair of cotton panties, faded and misshapen from going through the wash too many times, and an old hoodie that collected lint everytime you washed it.
"Something is wrong. Why are you avoiding me?" He pushed, kneeling in front of you. "You've been acting extremely strange." To that you crossed your arms over your chest. "Nothing is wrong, Jake. Okay?"
"You're so bad at lying to me Y/n. Talk to me." Jake reached towards you and you immediately shrugged away from his touch, causing him to frown. "I can't see you right now, Jake." Your voice came out in a whisper. "Not leaving you alone, what's going on?" He huffed, grabbing your shoulders. "I hate to see my favorite girl upset."
That one statement made your breath hitch in your throat, choking out a sob. He seemed surprised, lifting his hands off of you. "Y/n? What'd I say?" His eyes widened. You immediately leaned into his touch as soon as you lost it, sobbing into his hand, his touch sending sparks down your spine. "I'm sorry Jake.." You sniffled.
"Babygirl you don't need to be sorry.." He pulled you close into a hug, one hand on the back of your head. "I do.. I've been so awful to you." You quietly cried into his shoulder, gripping onto him like he was going to be gone in an instant. "I need you, Jake.. please, I can't be without you. I love you so much, and I can't lose you.."
The babbling that came from your mouth caused Jake to pause, and pull away from you out of surprise. You reached for him again, and he slowly took your hands. "Please tell me I'm still your favorite girl, Jake.." You stared up at him with wide tear stained eyes that caused his ears to flatten against his head. "Of course you are."
"No, no, Jake.." Shaking your head, you leaned into him, and he gently rubbed your back. Pulling away from him, you tried to wipe the tears falling from your eyes to no avail. Jake reached up to move your hands with his own, his grasp on you gentle, and he put both of his hands on your face, his thumbs swiping at below your eyes. "You're my favorite Girl." He said a bit firmer this time.
"Jake-" "Y/n." He interrupted you. "What can I do?" He seemingly couldn't stand to see you upset. "I don't-" You looked down and he gripped the bottom part of your face, forcefully pulling you up to look at him, causing you to squirm. "Tell me." His voice was firm, commanding, and you knew you had to answer him. Jake wasn't going to give up.
The grip on your jaw sent sparks down your stomach and you cursed yourself for the wetness pooling between your legs, crossing them. "Jake.." His name came out in a whisper, causing his cat like ears to perk up and his pupils to noticably dilate, his tail lashing behind him. "Need you, Jake." The statement fell from your lips before you could stop it.
A moment passed before he finally spoke, having you worried you'd royally fucked yourself. "I know, I can smell it on you." He said, leaning in. "Was that what you wanted this whole time? For me to fuck you?"
His change startled you, and your eyes widened. "Tell me, Y/n.." He said. The concept that he could smell your now soaked cunt made you cringe and flush in embarrassment. "Y-Yes..." You finally admitted. "Wasn't so hard to tell me now was it?" He chuckled, letting go of your face. Now on his knees, he leaned in and placed his hands on either side of you, his large arms caging you in against your mattress, causing you to lean back onto your elbows.
His pupils were noticably dilated, ears perked up and tail lashing. You shook your head to his statement and he flashed a small grin. "Good Girl.."
Your thighs pressed together and you whimpered, tears dry and unable to make eye contact with him. He leaned in and nudged your jaw with his nose, making you turn your head away. He licked a slow, agonizing stripe up your neck, causing you to whimper. "My favorite girl.." He nipped your neck, reaching over to slip his fingers under the bottom hem of your shirt with one hand. "If she needs me, I'll have to give her what she wants, him?"
Your head fell back and your eyes fluttered shut as he sucked a large mark onto the side of your neck, slipping his large hand into your bra. He began to squeeze and knead the squishy flesh, humming quietly. He pulled his hand out after a moment and scooped you up, tossing you further up onto your bed. The springs squeaked as he climbed on top of you, and your eyes widened with a start as you realized how drastic the size difference was.
You reached up, wrapping your arms around him as he kissed around your neck and collarbone. A loud ripping noise sounded and you realized with a start he was tearing your hoodie off of you, starting from your collar. Bare tits on display as you hadn't expected to leave, so a bra had been the least of your concerns.
The heat between your legs was unbearable, and you wiggled your hips upwards to try and get a bit of friction, and stuttered as Jake took one breast in his mouth. He suckled and ran his tongue around your nipple. "I was staring that night y'know.." He mumbled, pulling away momentarily. "When you were wearing that cute little outfit. It doesn't hide much.."
Your face flushed as he latched back onto you, his hand trailing down the side of your body gently. Jake stopped at your panties, and looked up at you as a silent question if he had permission. You bucked your hips up at him, and he immediately slid one large finger into your underwear and between your folds.
His finger found your clit, rubbing circles onto the sensitive bud as you sucked in a breath through your teeth. The warmth slowly built up in your belly as you rolled your hips against his hand. "Jake.." You whined, arching your back, your voice breathless. He continued to suck and bite at your tits, his free hand holding himself up.
He finally stood up on his knees above you, tearing your underwear off of you, giving you a view of how hard he was under his loincloth, causing you to gasp. How was he supposed to fit? You wondered, your heart pounding with excitement.
"Jake.. Need you so bad." You whimpered, reaching up for him. He reached down to tear your underwear off, the fabric tearing causing you to yelp. "Impatient." He chuckled, untying his loincloth. His cock was large, bioluminescent freckles trailing up the side and the tip a pretty shade of purple, slightly curved upwards.
You made your way onto your knees, staring down at him wide eyed. Reaching out for his cock, you bit your lip and looked up at him as if to ask for permission. He gently pushed his hips forward and you wrapped your hand around it, marveling at the size difference. Finally, finally, you took him into your mouth, the tip large on your tongue.
It wasn't easy to fit him into your mouth considering how large he was. His cock tasted surprisingly similar to a human cock. Sweeter, maybe? Glancing up at Jake, you ran your tongue up the shaft. He let out a quiet groan and shut his eyes, biting his bottom lip.
Slowly you began to stroke with one hand what you couldn't reach with your mouth. Your tongue massaged the underside of his cock as you took him in and out of your mouth, jaw stretched wide. It took a moment but you finally settled on a slow rhythm. Jake huffed, his tail curling around your waist and his ears pressed down against his head.
You brought your other hand up to stroke him, twisting both hands as you bobbed your head over the tip of his cock and using the mix of spit and precum as lubricant. "Oh Goddamn.." Jake growled, placing a large hand on top of your head. Your movements stuttered, unsure if he wanted you to stop, and in response he pushed your head down, causing you to choke. Tears building up in the corners of your eyes before he quickly let go. "Ah shit I'm sorry-" He said as you pulled off, coughing with both hands still on the instrument.
Quickly catching your breath, you continued your assault on his cock, causing him to hiss and let out a deep growl from his chest. Drool running down your face, mixing with tears. Wide eyes staring up at him. It was the sloppiest blowjob Jake had ever gotten and he was having the time of his life.
His dick began to twitch in your mouth and he quickly pulled away, causing you to whine. "Jakee.." You pouted. "M' not gonna cum yet.. wanna cum in your pussy." He grinned, taking you by surprise by picking you up and flipping you over, putting you down on your back. "I wanna taste first."
His words sent electricity to your belly and you moaned, watching him slide a finger between your soaked folds. You stared, lips slightly parted, as he lowered his head down and put his knees on the floor beside your bed. His pupils grew in size and his ears perked up as he inspected you. Opening your mouth to speak, you were caught off guard as he placed a rough kiss right on your clit, spreading your lips with his fingers and throwing your legs over his shoulders.
Immediately his tongue found your clit, pointing his tongue to circle over it. His tail wrapped around your thigh, you began to whimper as his lips wrapped around your clit. A cry tore from your throat as he suctioned his mouth against you. One finger teasing your entrance as he continued attacking your pussy. Hands found his hair, digging into his locks and holding on for dear life while his free hand found your tits, pinching and poking at your sensitive spots.
He slipped one finger inside of you, the sudden intrusion causing you to yelp and arch your back, pleasure building up in your belly. You tugged one of his braids and he growled into your cunt, wrapping an arm around your thigh and lapping at you more ferociously than before. "Fuck.." He grunted, pumping his fingers in and out of you.
"Oh my god, Jake, it's too much!" Tears slipped down your face as you felt the first warning signs of your orgasm. He laughed, "if this is too much, how are you gonna take my cock?" He slipped another finger inside, the stretch making you whine. "I can take your cock Jake!" You pleaded, hoping to any god out there that he would still fuck you.
The string in your belly snapped, and you cried out as you came against his mouth. Legs stretching out and then wrapping around him, yanking his hair, head thrown back and back arching. His name left your mouth in choked out sobs as Jake continued to suck on and lap at your clit, only stopping when your grip on him loosened. Dazed, you stared at your ceiling, coming down from your orgasm.
A sudden poke at your pussy made you jump and you looked up at him, his cock slipping between your folds. Jake groaned as he felt how warm you were, moving your arms to grab into him and gripping onto your sides. "You can take my cock?" He asked, and you nodded quickly. He began to push inside painfully slowly.
He could have blacked out from how tight you were, and the stretch made you bury your face in his shoulder, making a sound like a wounded animal. "Shh, shh, I know." He grunted, smoothing your hair down with one hand. Finally, he stopped, only able to fit half of his cock inside of you, not like he minded.
He pulled out, slowly and gently pushing himself back in, drawing a long moan from your throat. He was taking it slow, and you knew why, but you couldn't bear it if he didn't fuck you harder soon. "Jake, come on.." You whined. "Fuck me like the warrior you are." Jake looked at you, growling. "But your size-" "Fuck me, Jake."
With that, he sped up exponentially, slamming into you, the sudden change making you cry out. Your hands clawed at his back as he fucked into you, crying and whining loudly as the feeling overwhelmed you. "Fuck, that's it, that's why you're my favorite girl.." He roughly gripped the plush of your sides as he continued pounding you.
"Favorite Girl.." He repeated, groaning as your warmth overwhelmed his senses. Any thoughts of Neytiri fell from your mind as he fucked you like he was yours. "Oh fuck, Jake-" Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as his cock hit just the right spot. He suddenly pulled out, flipping you over, and sliding himself back in.
He placed one hand on your ass, giving it a harsh squeeze before bringing it down on you, causing you to squeak. He leaned down to nip and bite at your shoulders, leaving mark after mark in it's wake. He was positively feral, fucking into you like a beast. Your hands gripped the sheets as the springs in your bed squeaked furiously, this being the most action it had seen in years.
His hand reached down to rub circles over your clit and you screamed, your senses being overwhelmed, the feeling too much for you. Molten hot pleasure snapped, pouring from your cunt as you cried out. You could hardly hear yourself as you squirted all over his cock, Jake snickering and slowing himself down. He grunted, and shoved himself back in, stilling as he filled you up.
The room remained silent, the only sound being the two of you panting and out of breath from the events moments prior. Slowly, Jake pulled himself from inside of you, and you fell to your side. The bed dipped as he sat beside you not saying anything. "So.." you started, and he quickly stood up.
You heard a sigh and clothing rustling, making you pick your head up. "you're leaving..?" You asked as he tied his tewng. He remained silent for a moment. "Fuck, Y/n.." He turned to you, his ears flat against his head. "we shouldn't have.. I shouldn't have.." He couldn't find the words. Your heart dropped, guilt rising in your gut, and you quickly grabbed your blanket to cover up, unsure of what to say.
"I'm sorry I just, I have to go.." Jake sighed. "But-" "Forget about it. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have come onto you like that, I just.. I need to leave." He said, quickly exiting the room. You watched the door close, registering what had just happened as your bottom lip quivered.
You'd fucked up, you knew that. Served you right to leave you alone.. still, it didn't stop the stinging in your chest. How could you face Neytiri now? You asked yourself as you pulled yourself out of bed to start a shower, tears beginning to stream down your face. You supposed it couldn't be so bad..
You were still his favorite girl, after all.
Taglist: @teyamsatan
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ellieswrldd · 9 months
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modern gf!ellie hcs!!
content: not proofread, nsfw (phone sex, hickeys, mention of dom!ellie, mention of fingering) under the break! mdni!
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✩ gf!ellie who would be SO excited to learn abt your family, especially if you come from a different culture
she'd be so intrigued by ur family's culture and would wanna learn everything from the food to the music, maybe even some of your language if ur family spoke another language (sobbing she's so sweet) ✩ gf!ellie wouldn't want to take you on 'basic' or cliche dates, she'd want to make every date unique and memorable! in her mind, going on a picnic with some good food and talking while she paints you is the perfect date, but should you ever ask her to take you to a fancy restaurant, she'd be more than happy to. ✩ gf!ellie who tries her best to teach you guitar and how to paint in her free time because she loves sharing her interests with you of course...she always manages to end up being touchy and affectionate with you while giving you lessons and you end up completely distracted
✩ gf!ellie being the most clingy person ever!!! in public and in private she's always touching you in some way, sometimes more subtly than others.
driving with her? her right hand is on your thigh
at a party or public gathering with her? she's got a hand on your lower back or her arm is circled around your waist
and in private, she slaps your ass whenever you’re least expecting it and will kiss your neck until you give her attention
✩ gf!ellie would be the biggest tease ever!
knowing how much you love her hands, she would always be using that knowledge to tease you running her middle and ring fingers along the rim of a glass, toying with the rings on her fingers, rubbing her jawline with her hands...all while you're trying to have a conversation with her? you can't help but get flustered as you remember the things she's done to you with those hands of hers.
should she end up hugging you from behind while you’re doing something, you know she’ll end up with her hands inside of your bra claiming she’s “warming up her hands”
✩ building on the whole teasing thing...gf!ellie is a phone sex fiend whenever you're away from one another, even if it's just for a night or two, she's sending you dirty text messages and begging you to call her so she can "hear that pretty voice" you never say no, how could you when you also initiate the sexting half the time? r: ellieee i miss u :( e: do u miss me or just my fingers? r: both? i'm lonely AND horny now since u brought it up e: glad i'm not the only one e: what're u wearing, doll? r: just a pair of ur boxers i stole a while back r: ellie i'm so wet :(( e: fuck e: call me? please? ✩ gf!ellie goes crazy when it comes to hickeys she can't help but leave you covered in dark hickeys and love bites every time you two have sex for ellie, the idea of people seeing her marks on you turned her on like crazy and while she loves marking your neck and collarbone where everyone can see, she also loves those hidden spots where she can leave bruises for only you to see. after every time you fuck, you find yourself tracing along the hickeys ellie left on your neck, your inner thighs, your breasts, and maybe even your stomach if she was feeling extra.
✩ gf!ellie who loves making you suck on her fingers before fucking you with them
✩ gf!ellie who can switch from being rough and dominant in bed to being a total service top, desperate to make you cum, in a matter of seconds 。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆
a/n: just wanted to write down some of the modern gf!ellie hcs that have been sitting in my head for a while <33 going back to the first bullet, i just KNOW ellie would wanna learn abt reader's family's culture if they had cultural differences, imagining her trying my own cultural practices and traditions is the cutest thing ever
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shroomthedecayedfox · 4 months
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So, I know a majority of you guys follow me for my art, but I also kinda wanna post some rambles about my interests and the like (a majority being about FE3H). This is me wanting to be a little unhinged on my dash. I'm still gonna be posting art (got stuff already cooking), but if you want to watch me go insane over Byleth's heartbeat, keep reading.
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So, as someone who has been listening to the FE3H soundtrack for the past few months there's this really subtle narrative moment that's happening in the music during the scene where Byleth’s heart starts to beat for the first time.
What I mean by this is when you go back and you listen to the soundtrack or the music of the game, you're going to start to notice the heartbeat motif. 
The music of FE3H has a lot of distinct leitmotifs throughout the score. Most of them are tied to just locations or themes throughout the game, but then there’s the characters. Now, I don’t know if Dimitri or Claude have leitmotifs themselves (Although, feel free to correct me if I’m wrong), but I’m fairly certain their routes do. However, none of it comes close to how distinct and prolific Rhea and Edelgard’s leitmotifs are.
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Rhea’s leitmotif can be understood as the “Song of the Nabateans”; the lullaby she sings during the winter ball when you encounter her wandering the entrance hall. That progression of chords acts as a musical shorthand or stand-in for Rhea within the soundtrack of the game. It is tied to Rhea/Seiros or the nabateans in general. You hear it again during “Funeral of Flowers”. It’s distinct and recognizable, but then there’s Edelgard’s.
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Which is just EVERYWHERE. The progression of chords that follows “Reach for my hand…” in “Edge of Dawn '' makes its way into a LOT- and I mean a LOT- of the music. From the more obvious tracks of “The Apex of the World” and “Three Houses Main Theme”, to subtler ones like, “Unfulfilled” and “Life at Garreg Mach Monastery”.  The motif is everywhere and employed at every possible moment. Like once you hear it, it becomes impossible to not notice its presence. 
But then there’s Byleth.
Now, Byleth doesn’t have a leitmotif in the traditional sense. They don’t really have a distinct progression of chords symbolizing them within the music, but they do have a distinct sound: the heartbeat. The heartbeat acts as a kind of throughline for them within the composition of the music. It’s almost like a solo instrument. Wherein, instead of a progression of chords symbolizing the whole of a character, it’s the musical sound and presence of one distinct instrument. 
It’s kinda acting like the percussion section of an orchestra, but is only included within the composition in regards to Byleth. And it’s similar in nature to Edelgard’s, where once you start noticing, you realize it’s everywhere. But it’s hard to catch because it’s often buried so low in the mix. In the moments it’s not though, it’s very difficult to ignore.
So it's pretty buck wild that the scene where Byleth’s heart actually starts to beat, the song that plays doesn't contain the heartbeat motif. 
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“A World for Humanity” is the song that plays during that final cutscene of Crimson Flower and the heartbeat motif is nowhere to be seen. Which is pretty interesting because the player would have literally just heard it not two minutes ago in the context of the game. The heartbeat motif shows up in “The Apex of the World”, CF’s final boss theme. The player would have been listening to it as they were finishing the final chapter of the game. So musically, “A World for Humanity” follows “The Apex of the World”. Something happens where the percussion of the heartbeat motif vanishes between the two tracks. And after this moment, the rest of CF’s music doesn’t contain the heartbeat motif.
In-text, we know what caused that vanishing: Byleth’s heart actually starts to beat where it hadn’t for the entirety of their lives, but the narrative implications of that transition just fits so well with the overarching theme of CF. 
Now, there’s a lot to be said about the individual themes connected to each of the different routes within the game and for the most part, I’ve seen a lot of different takes regarding CF’s major theme as “the cost of one’s ideals”. Which, I’m not saying it isn’t a part of that route. It very much is, but what I am saying is that that theme is not distinctly tied to just CF. I’d argue it’s present throughout the entirety of the game and its four routes. It exists, across the board, within the stories the game is trying to tell.
For me, CF feels far more invested in the ideas of autonomy, freewill, humanity, and choice. That the overarching theme is aligned with the freedom to be your own individual and the right to make your own choices based on that freedom. The ethos of Edelgard’s final speech is the right for humanity to choose its own path. (I can explain all of this in another text post: trust me I want to talk about Edelgard’s final speech.)
But, this is how I largely interpret CF: it’s that strong emphasis of humanity’s freedom and it’s no surprise how Byleth’s heartbeat ties into that.
As far as I’m aware, Byleth’s heartbeat situation isn’t addressed in the other three routes. It’s set up in White Clouds and promptly abandoned. (which is a staple of the game; that’s just how it rolls. You’re not going to get everything on your first time through.) It’s loosely alluded to, but there’s no real pay-off outside of CF. You can outright tell Dorothea Byleth’s heart doesn’t beat, but she won’t believe you. When it comes to Claude or Rhea, you learn more about the nature of Byleth’s birth rather than address the nature of their heart. Given how strongly it is emphasized in Jeralt’s journal, the game wants you to pay attention to it.
For CF, the heartbeat becomes a symbol of Byleth’s humanity. At the very beginning of the game, they’re considered a demon by the people around them and the mercenaries within Jeralt’s company. In the eyes of the church, they’re seen as a figurehead or the second-coming of Seiros/Sothis. (Read that section in the Book of Seiros and tell me that’s not what the devs were trying to do). They rarely get to just be Byleth outside of whatever house you pick. A lot of Byleth’s interactions and relationships with other characters centers on the internal conflict of Byleth being understood as themselves. With CF it’s double because of all of the narrative implications Edelgard brings. All of those details and traits that characterize Byleth often get buried or go unnoticed.
So, what does this mean in the context of the music? “A World for Humanity” is musically reflecting the journey Byleth would’ve undergone during the course of CF. The heartbeat motif is no longer buried within the composition of the music, it’s free to be its own distinct sound. Which brings me to a detail I’ve been neglecting to mention up until this point: Edelgard is the first person to HEAR Byleth’s heartbeat.
During this scene, the heartbeat motif shifts from a non diegetic percussion to an in-universe diegetic sound. It breaks free from the composition of the music and becomes real. It’s no longer just symbolic of Byleth, it very much is Byleth. And what is the immediate reaction to that in-universe shift? 
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Edelgard starts crying for the first time in who knows how many years out of joy. Byleth comes-to listening to her basically be the happiest she’s ever been because Byleth is alive. Their hair shifts back to its original color and they open their eyes to show they’re once again blue. The end card further adds to this transition, explaining that Byleth has lost their connection with the progenitor god’s powers. They’re just human and the music, alongside the characters, celebrates that humanity. 
And I find that to be really neat.
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Note
I absolutely love the hype Bill’s getting and I’m here to contribute ꨄ︎ My request of today is; Remember the celeb crush thing I requested a while ago for Tom? Well my love for Bill is taking over and I’d love to see how you’d adapt it for him! To make it more interesting, I thought maybe the reader is already a fan and confidently goes out to talk to them even though the language barrier is present. Couple days later she goes and surprises them at a concert and makes this a little tradition til she and Bill realize they’ve developed feelings for each other but of course, work and distance is a huge obstacle
(Hello, lovely! Sorry this took so long and I didn't know if u wanted a oneshot but I was pretty lazy so here ya go! Enjoy!)
Bill Kaulitz x Celeb-Crush Reader
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He actually was pretty calm when he first noticed you
He had been one of your fans for a bit, seeing you in tabloids and online and had even gone to one of your concerts when him and the band weren't really well known
You were actually an example of his dream of being young but making it big
And as he grew up in fame, you never really left his mind because you also grew with your fandom and fame
Your style may not have been the same, your music either, but Bill still loved watching you on stage and on videos
He was almost starstruck when he actually saw you in the flesh when they were performing
YOU were at THEIR concert?!
By choice?!
He almost freaked out on stage but surprisingly hid it well
He just smiled, flashed a wink at you and somehow kept making eye contact
And you didn't look away and you fed into it from the crowd!
He tried so hard not to faint
When it was all over and he went backstage he was ranting to Tom, Gustav and Georg the whole time
"She looked at me! She looked at me- huh?! Who?! (Name)!"
Bill almost knocked Georg out right then and there
They then clicked in their mind he was actually talking about the one star he could rave about for-literally-ever
Bill was still a mega-fan, and the boys were dragged into it or ranted too
But what really almost killed Bill was after the concert and they were meeting with fans and signing stuff
He had just finished up taking a photo and signing a T-shirt and looked up to see you!
He took a moment and was just staring, mouth open and looking to Tom to see if he was hallucinationing
Tom laughed at his brother as Georg and Gustav watched as Bill almost dug his grave
You had to snap him out of it as you asked for a autograph
You almost out him in cardiac arrest because he rushed to find a marker
He snatched Tom's marker in the moment but he didn't give a shit
He was so giddy you asked him for his signature and was so happy
He tried to strike up a conversation but failed
Not to worry, you were absolutely glad to talk to him
Bill was so happy, and he and you had much in common and actually flirted surprisingly
Once he got over his shock, of course
You guys actually clicked
Turns out, you were a fan too, which shocked Bill
There was a language barrier, but Bill spoke a bit of English so he could at least speak to you
You knew a bit of German due to playing there either solo or in a band and you guys figured out a way to understand each other
As time went on, even after you guys parted ways, you somehow kept in touch
You would go to their concerts and he would be glad to go to yours
You guys were spotted by photographers leaving hotels, walking in the city on "dates" as they called it and many more
Fans went crazy and so did paparazzi, chasing you guys down almost all the time
You and Bill didn't mind, even enjoying it in photos and you guys got a few photoshoots together
You guys were a pretty popular celebrity ship but would never admit it, even with the looks and smiles you two would give over time
Bill always thought he was in a fever dream
Because no way his celebrity crush would actually like and be a fan of his, much less spend time with him
You and Bill developed a tradition of traveling to see each other
You mainly did yours in surprise, but sometimes it was difficult
You were on tour and so was he, so spending time and being together for a bit scarce
You did your best hut Tom and you spent less and less time together and it was actually quite sad
Until you surprise him by showing up backstage, which he was shocked and ecstatic to see you
It was a tradition, either of you would sneak off and find one another no matter where
But it got a bit complicated as fans doubled down on this ship and your friends always compared your "relationship" and labeled it more than a friendship
Maybe there were feelings, maybe there wasn't
But the red dust and smile on Bills face would choose the latter option
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siempre-bucky · 2 years
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anonymous roses
Eddie Munson x fem!Reader
Summary: Hawkins High had a time-honored Valentine's Day tradition for the students to send the object of their desire a rose. Sure, it was a popularity contest, but it was cute. This was your senior year and your final attempt to send Eddie Munson a rose.
wc: 4.1k
a/n: i remember writing a little blurb about this like a month ago and finally got around to writing it! Enjoy
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February 13th, 1986
For a limited time, the vibrant yellow and green colors that painted the halls of Hawkins High were covered by Pepto-Bismol pink and crimson red. Even the giant tiger logo at the end of the hall had little paper hearts covering his eyes. Cupid had struck the student's hearts just in time for Valentine’s Day. 
You stood in front of the school with a large grin on your glossy lips as you admired your handy work. The art club had the displeasure of decorating the halls of Hawkins High every year for the Hallmark holiday, but you loved it with every fiber of your hopeless romantic heart. Your eyes looked lower, your heart beginning to race as you saw the table in front of the doors. ‘Hawkins High Roses’ was written in pink bubble letters and taped onto the red plastic tablecloth. 
It was an honored tradition at the high school. Every year the students would send their crushes a red rose, some were bold enough to write a note expressing their love while others remained anonymous. It was all a popularity contest, just like everything else in high school. Chrissy Cunningham needed two of her friends to help her carry all the roses she received in class to her car last year. You? You never received one from a secret admirer and you’ve never had the honor of the poor freshman passing them out calling your name and handing you a wilting red flower. 
You wanted this year to be different, it was senior year and it was your last chance to send a rose to the boy who captured your heart back in middle school. The sounds of muffled bass entered your ears, your fantasy dissipating like clouds in your mind. Trying to be casual, you clenched your hands around the black straps of your backpack and turned around. 
Eddie Munson stumbled out of his van, tossing the remains of his cigarette on the pavement. He slung his backpack over his shoulder and joined the freshman kid he adopted as he got out of the passenger side. Your knees felt instantly weak at the sight of the lanky boy with long wavy brown hair that shone in the sun. 
You’d had a crush on him since the sixth grade. Sitting with your class during the Hawkins Middle School talent show. You were looking up at the ceiling, counting the tiles while the mundane eighth-grade acts went on. Nothing seemed as interesting until the sound of metal music perked your ears. You lurched forward in your seat, your wide eyes staring at the band on stage. One look at the boy with the shaved head and it was like the heavens opened before you.  
Eddie and Dustin walked past you, talking amongst themselves. The smell of his cheap cologne filled your nose and intoxicated all your senses. “Shit,” you whispered, burning heat rising to your face. Once he passed the flower table, you knew what you had to do. 
“This is my year,” you announced to your friends during art class. You tightly tied on your apron while your brushes sat underneath the sink head. Jeff stood next to you, his arms folded against his chest, his eyebrow raised. 
“To do what?” he prompted. 
Ducking your head, you turned off the water and grabbed your brushes. Jeff followed you all the way to the back of the room to your spot. Sitting on your stool, you looked up at him with a shy smile. “I’m going to send Eddie a rose this year,” you whispered to your friends. 
There was a small silence that lingered. Gareth leaned to the side to look at you without his easel obstructing his view. “You said that last year,” he snickered, Looking at you, and then his eyes fell on Jeff who tried his best not to break out into a fit of giggles. 
“And the year before that,” Jeff chimed in, jokingly counting on his long fingers. 
“And the year bef-” 
“I get it,” you cut in gruffly, waving your brush at them and letting the leftover water hit them in the face like a cat and spray bottle.  Gareth and Jeff knew all about your crush on their leader, they teased you at every opportunity but never once revealed your secret. Gareth was the one that formally introduced the two of you during your freshman year. 
“Eddie this is Y/N, she agreed to help with the new Hellfire Club logo,” he introduced in the quiet art room. 
The metal head loomed over you, his beautiful face adorned a small smirk. You clutched your sketches tightly to your chest, afraid of what he’d say about your art. “H-hi,” you greeted, internally cursing yourself at how nervous you sounded. 
He looked you up and down before a small crooked smile appeared, “Hi,” he greeted smoothly. 
“This is my senior year, my last chance to tell him how I feel. This is it,” you sighed as you hunched your shoulders and looked at your blank canvas. 
You managed to chicken out every year, ignoring the rose table and carrying on harboring your crush on Eddie. Your sophomore year, you stood with the red info card in your hand, getting ready to scribble the senior's name when you had the intrusive thought about him laughing in your face. You shoved that card in your back pocket and let your moment with Eddie slip away. Your heart was crushed when you realized he was graduating. 
Fate had stepped in and brought him back the next year, sitting next to you in your sixth period history class. You promised yourself you’d send him a rose, you had to because he spoke confidently to his friends about graduating. When February of ‘85 rolled around you panicked and told fate that they were wrong, he would never like someone like you. He’d laugh at the card telling him you sent it and throw the rose away. Your fear won last year. 
But fate was a frigid  bitch, and you got the opportunity to stare at your long term crush during third period. Third time’s the charm or whatever that saying was, you had to send Eddie a rose.  Time was ticking. 
February 14th, 1986 
You stood nervously in front of the frilly table, picking at the strings of your pink sweater. “Turn it in now and it’ll be delivered during third period,��� the girl told you kindly, handing you a red info card and a stubby yellow pencil. Your heart pounded as you stepped away from the crowd and leaned against the brick pillar, looking down at the card that would seal your fate. A small spot for the sender, the receiver, and even a small box for a note were staring at you, taunting you. “I can’t do this,” you whispered to yourself, shaking your head in defeat. 
You went to put the card back when a strong grip around your wrist pulled you away, “Chickening out?” Gareth snickered as you turned to face him, “send the stupid flower, y/n.” 
“What if he laughs at me?” you sighed as he let you go. 
“He won't.” There was a shift in his expression as he spoke, his features had softened and his lips dipped into a small frown. “He’s never gotten one before,” he informed you before walking away, hoping his words would be enough to convince you. 
It was enough. His words echoed in your mind as you wrote down his name and slipped it into the box before your brain could tell you not to. For you, it was hard to believe he’d never received one—there just had to be other girls pining after him and not just you in this town. He deserved the most expensive flowers from the best shop in Hawkins. Eddie Munson deserved the world and a silly high school tradition would be a small effort to prove it. 
After the fear went away, you felt excited to be the one to give him his first rose. You got lost in your daydreams that morning, running through every scenario of how he could react. Would he smile? Effortlessly twirl it and press it to his nose, wondering about its sender? Your thoughts followed you all the way to third period, sitting and waiting. 
Eddie came in a few minutes after, uttering a false compliment to your disgruntled teacher, and sauntered to his desk beside yours. “Hey,” he greeted you as he took a seat, instantly slouching and stretching out his long legs. 
“Hey,” you grinned, sitting up a little straighter. 
The anticipation started to eat at you, your eyes couldn’t stay focused on your notes or the chalkboard, instead, they drifted off towards the door. When the door finally opened, you clenched your pencil a little tighter and bit back a gleeful squeal. The room instantly filled with the smell of the freshly cut roses that lay on the cart, the poor freshman interrupting the teacher. The wrinkly old woman scowled and huffed out a few words before allowing him to pass out roses. 
You shifted slightly in your seat to get a better view of Eddie. You continued to smile bashfully to yourself as the names were called one by one. Some got four and others got two while Chrissy managed to get fifteen. There was one rose left on the rust covered cart. This is it, you thought while you held on to your pencil for dear life. Eddie just sat there, doodling mindlessly in his notebook. 
The freshman looked at the card, his eyes narrowed, then went wide, then narrowed once more as if he was checking to be sure. “Eddie,” he cleared his throat, “E-Eddie Munson.” The brunet’s head snapped up, yet his face was unreadable.  The kid took the flower and skittishly walked over and passed off the flower. Eddie rolled his eyes at the kid's behavior and leaned back, his brown eyes studying the red petals. “There was no sender name…sorry.” 
That’s right. You didn’t put your name on it. You had hoped to save a little of your dignity if he decided to crush your hopes and dreams. It was easier this way, or so you had hoped. 
You could finally breathe once the stem connected with his calloused fingers. “Alright, shows over… where were we?” Your teacher intoned, turning her back to the class and picking up where she left off. You began to relax, allowing yourself to rest your elbows on your desk with your chin resting in the palms of your hand. 
Taking another daring glance, you saw him twirl the flower between his fingers and let the petals fan out. He didn’t look angry, which soothed your nerves but he didn’t crack a smile either. He looked stoic, his low eyebrows were the only thing giving you some kind of hint as to what he was thinking. His body still remained relaxed, his limbs splayed out. He must have hated it. Disgusted at the fact someone would give in to the capitalistic holiday. Your shoulders slumped in defeat and tears of embarrassment had begun to well in your eyes. Good thing you didn’t put your name on the card. 
Eddie’s mind was a mess. He’d seen how this day played out for the past six years, he didn’t mind though. Not getting a silly little rose never bothered him, he was used to girls avoiding him in the hall and on the street. A couple of older girls that came to see him at the Hideout offered him some attention but it was never as innocent as someone giving him flowers. After six years someone finally sent him one just to mock his lack of love life. 
The flower was burning a hole in his hand, he carried it with him to lunch and spun it in his hand while he slowly ate. Hellfire sat around and stared at their leader in awe. “Should we ask?” Mike whispered to Dustin who sat just as confused beside him. The curly haired boy shrugged, unsure of what to do and even more unsure of how Eddie would react. 
“So, Eddie,” Mike coughed, sitting up straighter in his seat. Timid eyes flickered to his half-eaten mystery meat. Eddie’s brown eyes slowly left the soft petals and looked unamused at the freshman. “You, uh, got a rose.” 
Eddie leaned further back in his chair and threw his head back, pressing the rose to his nostrils. “That’s right,” he sighed deeply. “Someone decided to play the ol’ prank on me.” 
Gareth and Jeff shared a glance from across the table. 
“Who would prank you?” Dustin asked with nervous laughter, eyes shifting to the other guys. They all remained silent in fear, Eddie could spring from his seat at any moment and cause one of his famous scenes. He slapped Mike’s shoulder gruffly and gave him a stern glance. 
“Y-yeah.” 
The metal head started to laugh, shaking his head at them. He sat back up and gently placed the rose next to his tray. “Do you see any maidens willingly lining up to have a shot at little ol me? No, boys—I didn’t think so.” Because who would send Eddie the freak a rose willingly?  
“Was there a name on the card?” Lucas chimed in, earning nods of encouragement from his friends.  
Eddie grinned mockingly, “No.” 
Another glance passed between Jeff and Gareth, their confused expressions communicating silently. “There really wasn’t a name?” Gareth whispered to himself. It was meant to be a thought, unheard by their leader, but Eddie’s ears had heard the boy. Eddie leaned forward and cocked his head, striking fear into him. 
“What do you know?” He grumbled. 
“N-nothing,” Gareth stuttered, feeling like he was about to break his middle school promise with you. You had shoved him against the bike rack after you let it slip that you liked Eddie and pointed your house key at his face, telling him to swear on his mother that he would never tell another soul. He kept tight-lipped, even when he became one of Eddie’s closest friends he never even gave him a hint. 
“You know something about this,” Eddie motioned towards the flower. “Who played the joke on me?” 
Eddie stood up and placed his hands behind his back, looking up to the ceiling as he sauntered around the table to cause tension within the group. “Gareth, Gareth, Gareth,” he sighed, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “Isn’t it a rule in Hellfire Club to not keep secrets?” 
“But that’s only in the game.” 
“Shut up!” he huffed. “It applies here, so start talking.” Eddie walked over and clapped a hand on his shaking shoulder. 
Jeff looked on with wide eyes. He’d seen Eddie riled up before, but it was never like this. He looked flustered and frustrated by the entire ordeal. It was just a silly Valentine’s Day tradition, there were more serious things that Eddie got this way over. “Eddie,” Jeff said calmly. “It wasn’t a joke.” 
The calm in his voice managed to alleviate Eddie’s anger. His head whipped down at him, “Leave,” he said, shooing the others away. The freshman scattered, leaving Jeff and Gareth to deal with the wrath of Eddie Munson. 
“Who sent the rose?” he asked, calmer this time as he took his seat. 
“I can’t-,” Gareth said meekly. 
“Did you send this to me out of spite because I wanted that guitar solo?” Eddie narrowed his eyes and clenched his fist. 
“It was Y/N Y/L/N,” Jeff blurted out quietly, hoping not to alert you at the other side of the lunch room. 
“Y/N,” Eddie repeated. He knew you. The girl in the art club, the one with the sunny disposition and dried paint lingering on her fingers. You didn’t speak often, but when you spoke even a couple of words he felt like smiling. 
He remembered a few days ago when you were standing on the old wood ladder that looked like it was about to collapse under you. 
You were hanging up one of the Valentine's Day banners while your helper chatted to a girl. “Andy, can you hand me the tape?” you called from above, your voice strained. “Andy?” you repeated. 
You glanced down and saw him, one wrong move to collect the tape from the stool next to you and you’d be falling to your death. “Jesus, Andy!” 
A hand tapped your leg. “Here,” the smooth voice said. Butterflies erupted in your stomach as Eddie walked to the other side of the ladder to face you, ring-clad hand holding up the roll of tan-colored tape. His beautiful brown eyes met yours and you had to grip the top of the ladder a little tighter. 
“Thank you, Eddie,” you said happily. 
“You’re welcome, anything I can do to help the neglected clubs of Hawkins High,” he chuckled as you fixed the banner. 
You laughed in response and cautiously descended the ladder before standing next to him. “Does it look ok?” you asked, wiping your forehead with the back of your hand. 
Eddie looked at you as a comforting heat spread through his body. “It looks good,” he answered. He never once looked at the banner; just you. 
“Shit,” he whispered, looking at his friends with the softness in his eyes returning and a rose colored blush rising to his cheeks. He regretted how he acted towards his friends. “I’m sorry. I just… no one-” 
“It’s all good man,” Jeff smiled reassuringly and patted his back. 
“She sent me one because she wanted to… because she likes—me.  That’s what we’re agreeing on here?” Eddie needed just a sliver of confidence before his next question. The two guys nodded.  “Has she ever?” his words trailed off, they were all beginning to feel so foreign. He never gave a girl flowers or went on a proper date. He felt so unsure of himself. 
“No,” Gareth told him. You had never received a rose either. 
A moment passed while Eddie’s thoughts collected together to form a plan. What did teenagers do on Valentine’s Day? “Boys,” Eddie put a hand on each of their shoulders and pulled them in, “I’m gonna need some help.” 
The sun finally started to set, meaning the day was almost over and you could start putting the shame of sending an anonymous rose behind you. You had your Walkman’s headphones covering your ears, the mixtape of sad love songs on repeat while you painted the bouquet of dried flowers that sat on your desk. 
Your eyes watched your paint filled brush add texture to your painting, but your mind was louder than the music potentially ruining your eardrums. All you could think about was Eddie staring mindlessly at your flower. Not one smile, not one frown or vocalization. He didn’t even look at you the rest of the day. It felt like he was avoiding you. 
You didn’t hear the chipper doorbell ring. Your mom’s heels clicked along the wood as she clasped her string of pearls while she hurried to the door. She was met with a very nervous Eddie holding a dozen roses of varying colors. “Mrs. Y/L/N?” he asked. 
She nodded, eyeing his ripped jeans and leather jacket. Instantly she knew who he was because she had spent hours listening to how Eddie said this and how Eddie did that. “You must be Eddie Munson,” she smiled brightly. 
He nodded sheepishly, “I was, uh, around and wanted to leave you these…for Y/N.” 
Your mother giggled and stepped aside, “She’s in her room if you’d like to give them to her yourself.” 
Eddie wanted to shake his head and run for the hills, his hands had a death grip on the dethroned stems of the flowers and his feet felt like cement. “Sure,” he gulped. After getting the directions he made his way up the stairs, heart pounding against his ribs. 
Swallowing the nerves, Eddie knocked once then twice then once more for good measure. After getting no response he slowly opened the door and cautiously stepped in. Your back was turned as you worked on your still life. A small smile tugged on his lips, you looked comfortable in the oversized sweater that looked like a painting in itself. He tapped your shoulder. 
“I don’t want anything, mom. You and dad go have fun,” you huffed without turning around, your hand skating across the large canvas. 
Eddie tapped again and took a step back as you ripped the headphones off your head and whipped around to look at him with annoyance. “I said I- Eddie,” your voice instantly softened. Your heart’s desire stood there in your room with roses pressed against his heaving chest. 
Suddenly you jolted at the realization, standing up from your chair and intertwining your fingers over your lap. “Hi,” he breathed. 
“W-what are you doing here?” You asked. Never in your wildest fantasies would he be here. 
“Your mom let me in,” he told you, pointing back towards the door. “I wanted to tell you thank you for the rose.” 
You ducked your head, “You found out,” you said sadly, “did Gareth tell you?” You should have known one day the fluffy-haired kid would crack. 
“No!” he gasped, “I forced it out of them. Jeff was the one who spilled, I wasn’t very nice about it. I thought someone was playing a prank on me.” 
A prank? Your chin lifted abruptly. “Eddie I would never,” you reasoned, taking a step closer to him. “I’ve been wanting to send you one since freshman year,” you confessed, “I’ve just never had enough courage to do it.” 
It was Eddie’s turn to duck his head out of shyness, a boyish smile appearing on his lips and his rosy cheeks lifting closer towards his eyes. He looked at you through his lashes, he would have started dreamily swaying side to side but his train of thought stopped him. “Really?” he squeaked out. 
You nodded, “Mhm,” you smiled shyly and scratched your head with one of your hands. “I have a crush on you… I’ve had a crush on you since middle school.” 
A silence filled your bedroom, the smell of roses and acrylic paint creating an odd scent in the air. He looked at you and you looked at him, everything felt like it was moving in slow motion. “Wow,” was all Eddie could manage to say, his mind running rapidly. You liked him. 
“Why are you here?” you managed. 
He presented you with the flowers, “I wanted to return the favor—I wasn’t sure what color you liked so I got them all,” he said quickly. You took them in your hands and looked at the variety of flowers staring at you. Beautiful yellow, pink, red, and white roses were organized beautifully and tied together with a red ribbon. Tears of relief and joy prickled at your eyes. 
“They’re beautiful, Eddie,” you said with a waiver in your tone. 
Eddie stepped closer and let his hands cover yours, the bouquet between you being the only thing that prevented him from coming closer. “Thank you, Y/N, for the rose. No one’s ever done romantic shit like that for me before.” 
You stood on your tippy toes and quickly kissed his cheek, causing his face to redden even more. “You deserve it,” you smiled. 
His eyes looked down at the flowers before looking back up, “I also wanted to know if you had any plans for Valentine’s Day? I was sure you had a date or something.” 
You looked around your lonely room and your painting set up. You bit your lip and shook your head, “No,” you laughed, “I do not.” You felt him come closer so you let the flowers fall at your side and allowed him to put his hand on your hip. 
“I’m sure everything’s booked up but maybe we can grab something from the diner and watch the stars or whatever,” he retracted his hand, regretting his ideal valentine's date. 
You smiled widely and nodded in response, instantly missing his touch. “I would love that.” 
“Can I kiss you?” he asked. 
It made your smile grow wider. Your heart nearly exploded at the contact of your lips meeting his, they were softer than you thought and they fit yours perfectly. His free hand found your cheek and yours found the side of his neck, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened. The flowers fell to the ground with a soft thud and you wrapped your arms around his neck while his arms found your waist to draw you in. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Eddie,” you said breathlessly as you finally pulled away for air. 
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Y/N,” he muttered before reclaiming your lips. 
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sdr2lovemail · 7 months
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Rating KNY characters on how well they can play rhythm games!: Upper Moon Edition!
This came to me in a vision and I must share!
Kokushibo 0/10
Kokushibo can kill. He can slay hordes of demon hunters without breaking a sweat. Put a tablet in front of him? He's done.
In battle, he's quick on his feet and a fast thinker. But something about the bright shapes flying across the screen got him pressing them three years after they pass, even with six eyes.
It's a challenge to get him to even play. Saying that human games are trivial to him and does not wish to partake. Will probably get a few seconds into the song before quitting.
"This is pointless. Goodbye."
Douma 9/10
Scarily good. After the initial "shock" of seeing a tablet, Douma is clearing songs with ease.
He's got a good sense of rhythm and can keep up with the notes. He prefers games with female casts as well. They're just nicer to look at in his words.
Scratches the screen of your tablet with those nails of his. Be cautious when using it after he's done with it, you might cut yourself on the glass.
That is if you can get it out of Douma's grasp. This screen is so interesting, you can't just take it away!
"Hey, I'm still using it... Come on, just one more song!"
Akaza 2/10
He can keep up well enough, but his sense of rhythm outside of fighting is awful. He's too focused on trying to hit the buttons that he can't keep up with the beat.
Akaza will get frustrated very quickly. He'll keep trying as he keeps getting mad. Saying he'll beat the next one. He's not stopping until he beats a song, or until your tablet is in pieces. Whichever comes first.
You can offer to put the game on an easier setting, but he wants to play on an even harder setting, just to prove he's better than a scrap of metal. It's a never ending cycle of frustration.
"No! I don't need it to be easier! You know what? Make it harder. I'll show you!"
Hantengu 0/10
(Might include clones in a different post)
Bad all around. No sense of rhythm and can't keep up with the notes. Hantengu gets angry to the point of tears, which makes it even harder for him to play. Didn't even want to try at first.
While he's quick in battle, he's still an old man from the Taisho Era. The bright, flashing graphics of the game overwhelm him and he just can't focus on one thing.
Another one to scratch the screen with his nails. He'd press down hard too, leaving pretty deep scratches.
Gets too frustrated and rage quits, not even finishing a song.
"I-I don't want to do this anymore!"
Nakime 9/10
Amazing sense of rhythm and can keep up with the notes like a seasoned player. Not a fan of most of the song choices. She's a fan of traditional sounds. Modern day pop, electronic, etc. is not for her.
It's a challenge to get her to play as well. She doesn't acknowledge your asking for a while. You really gotta pester her if you want her to play.
Nakime is skilled with her biwa even with her nails. She gets a bonus point for not scratching the life out of your tablet.
"Fine...I will try your music game."
Gyokko 5/10
Thinks he's above anything you'd have to offer, even if it was from modern times. You'll have to really butter him up for him to even think about playing.
With multiple hands comes quick reflexes and the abilities to do multiple things at once. He's able to keep up with the rhythm and notes with ease.
Gyokko is docked points because he'd just be bitching the whole time. Saying how ugly the art and graphics are or how he finds the music/vocals grating against his ears. Overall allergic to fun.
"How childish! Makes sense that someone like you could be so distracted with flashing colors."
Daki 3/10
She would actually be good at the game if she didn't throw a tantrum every time she lost her combo. She has a good eye and sense of rhythm, but gets too in her head about playing. Takes forever to pick a song.
Daki would throw your tablet across the room or slam it into the floor in a fit of rage, don't expect to get it back in one piece.
There's two reactions depending on how well you play. If she doesn't like you all that much, she blow up on you in an act of jealousy. If she does like you, she begging you to tell her how to get better.
"Wah! This is stupid! I clicked that note! I hate this!"
Gyutaro 0/10
Gyutaro doesn't even want to entertain the thought of him playing such a stupid game. He says that he has much better things to do. In the small chance you do get him to play, he sucks.
His lack of skills brings an onslaught of self deprecation. Groaning about he can't even play some dumb human game.
Doesn't scratch the screen too bad but he does scratch himself, leaving bloody stains all over the tablet.
"Nehhh, I can't even keep up. How pitiful..."
Kaigaku 2/10
Proudly boasts about how well he could play and how he could beat any score you could manage to get. Is promptly humbled the second the song starts.
Kaigaku would want to play on the hardest difficulty, but gets mad when he misses a note.
His stubbornness doesn't allow him to quit. He's going to keep playing until he can get a full combo. Don't tell him that all perfect combos exist, you'll never see him again.
"Stop trying to take it from me! I'm not done yet!"
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vhstown · 4 months
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gwen stacy ★ general headcanons
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content/warnings: mentions of underage drinking, implied & mentions of death
a/n: hey 😁 a levels beating my arse. thx 2 @qiupachups 4 helping w these 🫡 give it up for gwendy ‼️ (unedited)
Gwen is a collector — but not of collectibles. She has a secret empire of the most random things, and is thoroughly embarrassed when anyone finds it: tickets, pins, soda can tabs, cool-looking clothing tags, mismatched hair clips, paper clips, little things stolen from school, etc. Anything she things is remotely interesting has a place in a very specifically organised box under her bed, tucked away from the world and taken out occasionally to be adjusted or stared at. It's essentially the same as being a collector, right...?
She had a fashion hobby she grew out of, but it re-kindles when she has to design a suit for herself. Initially, it's made up of thermal sportswear but she comes up with actual designs at some point, modifying it overtime to include the hood and to integrate it with her ballet slippers.
When it comes to art, Gwen's style would be a lot like a fashion student's. I headcanon her to have aphantasia so her main strength is drawing clothing, and a lot of her drawings are based on herself as a reference (she can literally only draw herself well...) Rather than a sketchbook, she has a journal that's also full of photographs and writing as well as her drawings, and the occasional crumpled up drum score.
Has a knack for sewing and customises some of her clothes, though it's more personal touches and the occasional crop rather than completely overhauling a piece of clothing. Everyday items of hers have at least a little embroidery or design on them and she likes doing patterns on like bags and converse for her friends. Wants to make plushies and things but always manages to get distracted so there's a bunch of unfinished projects in her closet. (I would totally buy from her on Etsy though 😁)
Gwen did ballet as a kid and developed the enraging habit of cracking EVERY joint in her body. She's the mf that twists in the chair in front of you and stares deep into your soul while cracking her back. Cracks things you don't even know you could crack without shame my girl is a whole instrument 😭
Ballet is something her dad pushed her towards, alongside music (though he preferred she did something more traditional). Initially Gwen did feel out of place in her classes. A lot of the other children at her classes were already well-versed in it, and a lot of times she found she wanted to quit. Only after learning that her mom Helen did ballet did she willingly pick it up again at an older age, incorporating the technique into her fighting style.
Gwen used to play a few different instruments as a kid but none of them really stuck. For a while, she thought she hated music when she did piano and the recorder, but when she got her hands on a drumkit at her school and a couple lessons, she knew it was the one.
Her drumming is definitely more freestyle, and even though she's good she has a lot of problems with her high energy, spontaneous and emotive style. That means she breaks her drumsticks ALL the time. There's no way she's banging all that out on the drums without an unfortunate snap or two, so she always keeps another pair handy. She's broken her drumsticks so much that there's a collection of them torn up at the bottom of her bag (she never bothers to throw them out, and might've given herself a splinter reaching in to find something 💀)
Speaking of drumsticks, she has one lucky pair she uses for important performances, carrying them practically everywhere. They've essentially rotted in their fancy little fabric case since she'd gottem them, the custom "GWENDOLYN MAXINE STACY" imprinted on it having almost completely eroded away.
Though, she's only ever used them once; her dad had bought them for her for a school performance, which she had to bail last minute when her Spider-sense suddenly activated. Running off to fight a villain not a street away, Peter Parker follows her, and he realises just who Spider-Woman really is.
While she was planning to use them at her prom performance with her band... that never happened. After that, everything reminded her of that night, and her relationship with The Mary Janes dwindled until she quit altogether. The band only lasted a few months prior, and since they never got to perform at prom, Gwen found herself playing for no reason at all, other than to get rid of her pent-up energy and forget about the fact that she's basically a wanted criminal.
When she's living in Hobie's universe, she ends up breaking her "lucky" drumsticks and is, understandably, a little shattered by it, but Hobie gets her another pair, "GWENDY" written in mismatched letters on the side. That "G" was definitely a last-minute addition, though. He also teaches her how to stop breaking them so often. "Bit of advice — use the wrists, not just the arms."
Gwen's definitely not meant to drink, so whenever Hobie goes to the pub he makes sure not to, suggesting his friends don't get pissed out of their minds either (though she might steal a sip of something fruity now and again.)
Hobie takes her to gigs all the time, and sometimes she drums for his ones. The first time she does it, she's nervous of course, but her sound immediately gets the crowd going and it's the talk of the town for a week straight (and her drumsticks didn't break!)
There's no shortage of junk food, of course. Just like all the takeout she'd have back at home, Hobie would make sure to take her around all the local spots. Although it's not exactly the same, anything beats the plasticky cafeteria food in 2099. Stopping for a kebab or two in the middle of anomaly-hunting isn't really against the rules anyway.
Gwen is friendly with pretty much everyone in the Spider-society because everyone knows who "Gwen Stacy" is, but she never really wants to meet another version of herself (given how unsettling it is with context). Also very awkward around any MJs — or Peters. Peter B essentially being an older 65!Peter definitely freaks her out a little at first.
Misses Miles, obviously, and probably had something she wanted to make for him back in her universe that she could never retrieve. Maybe when she gets Hobie's watch she'll bring it along with her — would Miles like a knitted neckwarmer?
SO best friends with Margo. Her tech lets Gwen see into her universe sometimes (Miguel wouldn't let her 😞) and Margo is super keen on learning about her universe. They both hang out with Peni and it's a fun little girl trio (Peni totally takes them to her universe to see all the giant mechs 😁 "Girls night!" BOOM!)
Number 1 girlfail. She hasn't broken those new drumsticks yet! But drumming can wait — and all those projects at the back of her closet, and her unresolved dispute with MJ and the band, and her dad at home. Going from her small world to having an entire multiverse against her and her friends, Gwen's got one hell of a show to put on, right?
“I never found the right band to join, so I started my own, with a few old friends.”
“You want in?”
🩰🕸️💫
@phoenixinthefiles (it's cause of you im always writing hcs 😭😭😭 /pos)
hi bunklies 😁 ive been averaging like 4h of sleep cuz of skl but ill fix up soon trust... hope you are all doing okay ! ive never written anything for gwen before so i hope this is an okay start lol
atsv masterlist here! reblogs always appreciated :) see u around <3
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sserajeans · 7 months
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you are in love | 24. match made in ocean
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- gyuthegoofy started a video call.
- ynthesexy, hanthebitch, and wonythemvp joined the call.
audio directory: wonyoung, leehan, gyuvin, y/n
"so what are we supposed to be looking at here?"
"the fundraiser proposal.... again."
"someone needs to hold me back before i commit a REAL HEINOUS CRIME against that hagrat excuse of a principal."
"i'm so glad you said that over call instead of text 'cause..."
"shut up."
"wait guys focus please..."
"right sorry."
"i'm using all the brain juice i got i swear but this is so hard."
"right? i have no idea how serenades didnt pass..."
"as much as i'd hate singing around with y/n it was a good idea as a fundraiser. low cost."
"matches the school tradition too. i don't know why so many people confess around christmas time, but it could've worked!"
"for real. hagrat lim."
"you're going down with y/n."
"absolutely not! how could the ever-so-lovely scholar kim gyuvin be disrespectful to his teachers! meanwhile school jock swim captain lee y/n..."
"I'M NOT EVEN A JOCK?"
"we're definitely getting off topic."
"oops..."
"anyways..."
"i think we should definitely stick to something on the romance side. it just sells more?"
"yeah, we can make it a little general for people who wanna do it for friends or family too."
"okay so... romance... romantics... what's something you guys would like to receive?"
"flowers without pollen."
"i laughed a bit i'm sorry."
"jellies!"
"candy could be low-cost, but won't the students feel like they could just buy them from the grocery or the cafeteria?"
"flowers could work. it's quite tiresome to pass by florist shops these days, so having them close by is convenient. sorry, y/n."
"i mean... i guess i'll be fine if i take the medicine before leaving?"
"i'm sorry y/n... we'll keep this as a backup idea so we can continue looking for something better and less... life threatening?"
"it's okay guys i don't mind it as long as principal lim gets off our back."
"we'll think of something else y/n... this'll just be the absolute last resort."
"speaking of flowers and y/n's pollen allergy though..."
"i know where this is going."
"I'M SORRY OKAY.... we just, or i, just wanna know!"
"didn't i tell you already??"
"details, y/n... details!!"
"I ALMOST DIED GYU..."
"LMAO PLEASE..."
"okay so you almost died... DETAILS!!"
"fine..."
"stay strong lee y/n..."
"we went to the cafe after practice, we talked about stuff. started with classes and how she's adjusting to the workload of juniors, then how i'm going around with colleges as an athlete. speaking of which, coach gave me a semi-scolding over text earlier today, but moving on."
"god he dumps the pressure of the swim team's success on you as if he isn't the literal COACH."
"for real like y/n is human too... hello?"
"yeah, then when we got to the cafe we had a mini argument over who was gonna pay but the cashier suggested to pay for our own, so that's what we did."
"you're so... anti-romantic."
"what? what did i do??"
"you're supposed to pay for her regardless, like never back down."
"NEVER BACK DOWN NEVER WHAT?"
"NEVER GIVE UP!!"
"but it was a date that dani asked for, so? kinda cancels out right, wony?"
"hm... i guess.. anyways, continue, y/n."
"well... yeah after i updated wony via text when i was in the toilet, we mostly talked about our interests and stuff. so me and movies, music, and mostly swim."
"90% swim. you might've bored her to death..."
"don't say that!"
"i'm being honest! she might've thought you were a fish in your past life or something..."
"she brought up swim in the conversation first actually! she said she swims a lot whenever she goes back home to australia during the summers."
"well isn't that a lovely surprise? match made in heaven!"
"match made in ocean.."
"she definitely knows how to keep y/n hooked that's for sure."
"oh yeah... great pair in that sense!"
"what were the other interests she talked about?"
"flowers, plants, nature in general! she's so outdoorsy."
"this is so ironic 'cause didn't you almost fail biology?"
"so that's where the park part came from..."
"no i did not almost fail bio... it just simply is my lowest scoring subject okay..."
"whatever you say!"
"but yeah that's when she brought up the park, and i just couldn't say no. she was talking about how this specific flower only bloomed in autumn and she wanted to see it at its first day."
"you didn't bother telling her you had an allergy?"
"she sounded so excited you guys i didn't want to ruin that... and i guess i kinda wanted to see the flowers too, they were really pretty! i'll show you pics."
"you couldn't say no to flowers... so you just put your life at risk instead?"
"i had a mask! and i didn't think it'd react that bad again."
"right."
"so yeah that's all that happened, really."
"sounds like you had a fun enough time to almost kill yourself!"
"OH MAN....."
"YES I DID! okay? i did have a fun time! she's really nice, cute, pretty, outgoing and all. we talked about going to a different nature park to rent bikes next time."
"i'm kicking my feet in the air right now you guys have no idea."
"we do actually."
"and don't bother showing us."
"yeah we can go a day without seeing your feet gyu."
"I DIDN'T EVEN OFFER?"
"you'd do it whether we liked it or not, unfortunately."
"she's right on that... AND DID YOU SAY NEXT TIME?"
"SHE DID!!"
"weren't we supposed to be finishing work so we could be free tomorrow? right we were! isn't that right, wony?"
"but... but that's... fine, yeah."
"wonderful! let's get back to work then!"
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masterlist. next.
taglist: @yyeonmis @lostamoeba @jisooftme @yoontoonwhs @awkwardtoafault @kvnii @lcv3lies @limbforalimb @spritin @kaypanaq @i06kkura @manooffline @kimsgayness @justme-idle @jenaissantex @mightymyo @sewiouslyz @txtbrainrot @li0ilthecxnt @captivq @paranoxic @sofakingwoso @daniellobers @pandafuriosa60 @haerinkisser @staryujinnie @wowowowcake @lesleepyyy @haechansbbg @rosiehrs @jiwoneiric
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dulcewrites · 5 months
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New Traditions
Pairing: Rhett Abbott x afab!reader
Summary: As the first holiday season in your new home approaches, Rhett and you start new traditions and make promises (wc: 3k)
Warnings/Fic notes: mentions of unhappy childhoods (reader and Rhett probably needed more hugs as kids). Allusions to a rich!reader. Me using decorating as smokescreen for a character study lol. Daddy issues galore. The Christmas music is very self indulgent on my part too. Allusions/mentions to 18+ content
A/N: *Mariah Carey whistle note* ITS TIMEEEEEE. Lmao hiii, I hope you all are doing well. It has been a minute since I have written for a fandom outside of hotd so please bear with me on that front. I eventually want to take request soon (for Rhett, some tgm characters, and Calvin Evans) so my inbox is always open if y’all are interested - just shoot me something. If you read anything you like please reblog, like, and or comment. Also let me know when y’all put your decorations up (if you celebrate anything). I’m a staunch first weekend of December girlie myself ❤️
Masterlist
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As pathetic as it sounds out loud, Rhett had grown accustomed to having the rug pulled out from under him. He had a looming and painful history with differentiating the cards life dealt him and what he deserves; over time, they began to blur together. At a certain point, he just resigned himself to life just being sort of... eh. Reminding himself that though things could be better, they could also be much, much worse.
It would all combinate in this hazy, syrupy snapshot of moments that ran together. At least, that is what he thought till he met you.
He thinks you would not understand it if he told you - that you are one of those people that is easy to love, while people like him took work to want. Hard work. Something that would be likened to the type of manual labor a Wyoming, farm grown boy like him is used to doing day in and day out. If he dared to express it, you would give him a good-natured laugh and shake your head like you always did when he said something self-deprecating.
"What kind of women do you take me for, Abbott," followed by a playful eye roll. "The type that settles?"
Rhett supposes that was the conundrum with you. Because the statement is not wrong; nothing about you gave off the impression you would settle for anything. That could come from a life of having almost everything at your fingertips. But the questions still tickle his tongue and doubts still makes his brain hazy.
It has only compounded since the two of you moved in together.
It was you who posed the suggestion, a shy smile on your lips. Despite the skepticism and disappointment from your parents, it did not feel right for you to sell your grandmother's ranch, the one your father grew up on, after she passed. You insisted on keeping it yourself, clearly having a soft spot for the house you would visit whenever you had the chance to.
Our home, you called it.
Your baking kits in the kitchen, his horses in the stable, and various clothes in the closets. He should feel reassured by this all… and yet… he waits for the other shoe to drop. For the rug to once again be pulled out from under him. Everything is so warm and new, and he worries about the day it slips through his fingers like sand.
Words in general, and expressing this specifically, does not come easy for him. Though loving you comes as easy as breathing for him. Rhett puts all that stuffing emotions and feelings away to good use as he tries to focus on the present. The only thing that manages to keep his mind clear is keeping his hands busy. So, he tries to make up for it in any way he can. The pale wall color your grandma insisted on keeping but reminded you of a sterile hospital? Painted to something more vibrant. The light fixtures in the kitchen that you said were ‘far too phallic to enjoy a meal under’? Well, those new ones are the best money could buy.
He just finished the building that rocking chair you got for the porch when you stick your head out of the house to call him in for dinner, eyes alight with something he could not put his finger on.
Dinner was silent, too silent for you, who always could spark up a conversation with anyone. A tiny sense of dread sets in, and he can’t help but think it maybe something he did… or did not do.
“The chicken is good,” he tries to start any kind of conversation or joy behind the eyes, but all he gets is an empty smile.
The unnerving quietness carries on for a few of minutes, but you suddenly drop your fork on the plate with a clank.
“Did y'all go all out for Christmas?”
Along with the noise the fork made, the question startled Rhett. He blinks blankly utterly confused by how it went from silence to that.
“What?”
“Oh, sorry,” your lips downturn into an embarrassed frown. “I should not have assumed y’all even celebrate it. I guess I just assumed with your mom and all.”
“No, we do celebrate,” he shakes head.
“So, did you go all out? When did you guys put the decorations out?”
Rhett shifts in his seat uncomfortably. Much like everything else that comes to his family, it is never linear or easy. He doesn’t know how to explain how one year they just stopped decorating; gifts and midnight mass were seen as hassles not the usual. Everything that the holidays stood for: family, love, gratefulness, togetherness was the antithesis of them. The joy and warmth of the holidays was sucked from the house and never came back till Amy was old enough to know what Christmas was - till Rebecca and his ma teamed up one day to make a fuss about the house being cold and sterile. What they meant is that Royal was cold… and sterile.
Rhett can still remember the look of disbelief in Rebecca’s eyes when Perry didn’t back her up on the matter. It was a look Rhett had seen from when he was a teen till the last day, he saw Becca. He still gets a rotten taste in his mouth thinking about he never got to tell her how much she meant to him. But that would also mean admitting that often his biggest advocate was a woman basically forced into the family versus the people he shared actual blood with.
Slight embarrassment burns his mouth like a hot iron down his thoat.
With a tight throat, Rhett shrugs. “It changed every year,” he lies. Then shakes his head. “It wasn’t a big deal really.”
Almost as abruptly as you stopped eating, you get up from the kitchen table. He just about calls out to see if you are ok, but you come back in the dining area carrying a picture.
“When I was cleaning out the garage, I found this.”
Rhett leans over, and he can’t help the slow grin that settles on his face. At first, he didn’t recognize the faces in the picture but then he saw a familiar crooked, mischievous smile, but this time on a younger girl. A little you. Decked out in a red, poofy dress and tiny white fur shawl. Shiny black saddle shoes that gleam even in the old photo.
“My baby as a baby,” he whispers.
Rhett continues to scan the photo. Behind you was two older people, and he can only assume they are your parents. They are exactly how he thought they would be and nothing like he thought at the same time. Your mom casually glamourous in green, your dad in a suit far too done up just for family dinner with a heavy hand on your shoulder. You wear her eyes but his nose. Right behind the three of you, a heavily decorated banister and in the foreground a Christmas tree so large that Rhett thinks it has to be a safety hazard.
You do not seem as happy or in awe of the relic as him, in fact you look sick at the sight.
“That was taken before they sat me down to tell me they were getting a divorce.”
Rhett’s heart sinks a little at the as the way your mouth juts out in bitterness.
“Looking back on it, I should have known. Dad was never home, mom was detached, probably depressed. Ya know, I remember them specifically saying that nothing would change, and naive little me not only believe that but wanted it. Not realizing something was just… off. But I guess most nine-year-old’s can’t tell the difference.”
He supposed it was easier for him to paint a rosier picture of your parents, for his sake and yours. Maybe winters in Texas were better than ones he experienced, maybe life was better. He has seen pictures of house, the compound, you grew up on. But now hearing what you are saying made pity take over the normal envy.
Rhett reaches out to grab your hand, and squeezes. “M’ sorry.”
You wave your free hand nonchalantly thought the casualness does not meet your eyes fully.
“No use crying over spilt milk,” you sigh. “I just saw the picture and tried to rack my brain for the last time we were all together for the holidays. After that one, it was one year with mama, the next with dad. And I don't think we ever decorated the house together. That was my caregiver, Jodie's job. Made me curious other people’s traditions I guess."
Rhett fiddles with the rings on your fingers while chewing on the fleshy part on the inside of his cheek.
“Maybe we can make our own,” he mutters softly. “Startin’ this year.”
You look up through your lashes, eyes fluttering away from the picture that sat on the table.
“Really?”
He nods. If that is what you want, he’d do it for you. Like he would do anything for you. Your gaze goes out the window across from the table. The leaves on the trees already began to change and fall to the ground. Going from green to various shades of red, purple, and brown. The season already has changed; heat melting away as the temperature dropped and cool breeze set in.
Your spirit noticeably lightens. “Do you think we can get a real tree? Mamma always said it was too much of hassle to get a real one.”
Rhett holds up his hand and extends his pinky. “As long as there is mistletoe in the house.”
Under new light fixtures, and with the sun grazing the ground as it sets, the two of you made your first promise.
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Investments are important.
Your father told you so all your life. To the giant painting he bought for the Tennessee house (the one you later realized was a Degas), the stocks he bought for you for your fifteenth birthday, or his insistence you go to his alma mater. All investments that he expected payoff for. Your father will always be the smartest businessman you know, and he still managed to be so clueless with everything else.
People are not investments. Not really, at least. Not in the way your father looked at it. You can put money and effort into something, but it is never a guarantee it will work out that way. And you can’t just leave when things do not go your way. Your poor father never seemed to understand that, and you think it broke your grandma’s heart in the process.
And maybe you are no better than him. As a child, you admittedly reaped the benefits your parents offered you, almost to a fault. They would often laugh at your ability to move on to the next thing without so much as a blink of an eye. Onto the next toy, the next piece of clothing, the next makeup item. How can you criticize behavior you gave into yourself?
“You’re a reformed brat,” Jennie, your old debutant buddy turned psychologist said over the phone. “Give yourself some grace. At least you want better yourself now.”
So, you gave yourself just that. You didn’t sell your grandma’s place for the equity or whatever bullshit your dad mentioned. You didn’t Amelia County leave though your mom offered to set you up with her in New York. And God… you’re letting your fall - fall so deeply in love with Rhett, despite the voice in your head that tells you not to.
You replay your, in your opinion, embarrassing meeting. Bursting into tears in the middle of a grocery store was not the romantic story you want to tell others. But he came up to you to say that though he only spoke to her a handful of times when she would stay in her vacation home in Wabang, he knew your grandmother was a good woman and would be missed.
A blubbery mess of grief right next to the meat aisle spiraled into decorating your grandmother's house together - your house.
With Frank Sinatra’s version of ‘Let it Snow’ playing in the background, a rush of giddiness takes over. Jodie always said you had an eye for pretty things.
"A little excited, no," Rhett eyes copious amounts of bags you brought into the house. “It’s not even December yet.”
You survey the bags and boxes laid out. So, you went slightly overboard. Like driving out of town to the nearest big city to do some more shopping. Some habits die hard.
"This is just the starter stuff," you pull reams of garland out of the bag. “Just wait till they start selling the trees. Oh! And I got ingredients to teach you how to make sugar cookies from scratch.”
Rhett is silent for a moment, and you wonder if it is too much too fast. Your mother always said that enthusiasm, especially around men, should be tempered and demure. No one likes a girl that acts like a dog with a bone, sweetheart.
“Do.. do you think we can invite Amy over for the cookies thing,” his cobalt eyes soften at the mention of his niece. “I think she would like that.”
“Of course.”
You knew how important it was to Rhett for things to stay good with Amy. Her reception of the move was the only one he seemed to care about. You could not help but think the rest of Rhett’s family was skeptical about his decision. Cecilia was always kind towards you, and she was mostly receptive to the idea, but you assume it must hurt to see her baby venture out. Something about her reminded you of your own mother. Two women clearly used to the short end of the stick, and had to find ways to deal with it. While your mother found salvation in travel and extravagant parties, Cecilia found hers in faith.
Perry was well… Perry, about the whole thing. Just based on how he handled the news, and small tidbits you picked up from Rhett, it seemed like Perry was upset about Rhett making a choice just for himself. A luxury that the eldest son had a premium on for some time.
But you think it was the patriarch of the family who took it the hardest. It may be the reality of having two less hands around 24/7 like Rhett says, but you tend to think it is something deeper with Royal. Anger, sadness, pride - all of them??? You don’t know.
But what you do know is that family tension is something both you and Rhett know far too well.
After unpacking the bags and boxes you got, the smoky coos of Frank Sinatra transition into the pop Christmas playlist you put together. You don’t remember when the bottle of red wine came out, whether it was between Britney singing about what she wants for Christmas that year or Mariah singing about a holy night. It might have been after you insisted the two of you try your hand at diy decorations. But Rhett rolled his eyes when you talked about getting glasses, taking swings straight from the bottle instead.
“I don’t know how you drink this shit,” he wrinkled his nose, but he takes another hit.
“Just like you enjoy your watery beer,” you retake the bottle from him to have some more yourself.
“Last time I checked,” he expertly ties red and green ribbon into pretty bows and knots. “You were there with me, drinkin’ said watery beer.”
You bite your lip as you watch his brows furrow, and he pokes his tongue out sweetly as he ties meticulously.
“You’re quite good at that.”
“‘M good with ropes too.”
It could be the red wine, which always made your insides warm and fuzzy. Or if could just be the Rhett of it all. Him indulging this perhaps silly childhood wound of yours in full earnest.
“Hmmm,” you shuffle closer to him. The two of you might a makeshift area on the living room floor of pillows and blankets. An almost sickly-sweet peppermint candle ablaze on the table, and the fireplace crackling nearby.
“Royal used to make me secure the lines and pull logs. Kinda got good at it.”
By this time, you’re stuck at his side, suddenly a little fixated on hair on his neck that trickles up to his jaw and cheeks. You like him like this; hair falling from behind where it is tucked behind his ears. Scruffy and soft.
“Maybe you can show me how good you are.”
Rhett’s attention still doesn’t stray from the ribbons he cuts and ties, a task he is clearly taking seriously, but he nods in agreement. You roll your eyes slightly at how oblivious he can be.
“On me, Rhett,” you spell it out for him. “You can use the ropes on me.”
He stops and turns with a look of wanton, wetting his lips for a moment.
“Yeah,” he asks, the inflection at the end of the question breathy and soft.
You nuzzle your nose into area right under his ear with a hum, kissing the skin there and taking in the smell of his cologne. A woodsy scent with sprites of magnolia and cedar. It was one that consumed the bedroom and your mind. You spent much of your formative years pretending to hate the idea of being desired or wanted - chasteness an idea drilled into your head since you were a little girl and told by the ladies of your church that the only thing worse than being ungodly is being ‘fast’. Then you spent college overcorrecting to the point of farce. Letting the guys you knew had little regard for how you felt at the end of it make decisions for you. Emotionally, mentally, and sexually.
Your first time with Rhett was a hodgepodge of giggle and sighs only to be heard by vast emptiness of the home you do sit in now. His boots and jeans askew on the floor. You eccentric grandma’s knick knacks watching you two. Most notably, the cat clock that reflected in the moonlight, the one Rhett insisted you keep when he moved in. After him eating you out until you cried, and a night that ended in you making a trip to the local pharmacy for a Plan B, you honestly expected a series of awkward moments that would single-handedly ruin the small town bliss you experienced for the first time. And yet, in the morning, his lips turned up in a shy smile and he asked if you had bacon in the fridge.
You didn’t realize how badly you were under water and needed to breathe until you came to Wabang. Your lips work their way up his jaw til you reach the corner of his mouth.
“Let’s make it another tradition.”
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Text
Something There (Chapter 10)
5.1k words
Roy Kent x Reader
Warnings: Language, fluff, one smutty scene because these two deserve it, lots of flirting, self-indulgent fluff (my chapter 10 tradition at this point!)
A/N: For the full effect, listen to Lavender Haze on repeat while reading because I listened to it almost non-stop while writing 💜
Series Masterlist
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The tips of Roy’s fingers tingled as he waited for the door to open. For the last couple of hours, he was convinced he was living in a dream as he got ready for- fuck was it really happening?- their first date.
After their scorching kiss in the rain, Roy had promised to come back at seven to take her out on a real date. One that would involve dinner, drinks, and, hopefully, a return to Roy’s bedroom. He’d rushed home to get himself showered and ready, remembering how anxiously he’d looked at himself in the mirror the night of the gala, wondering about her. This time, however, Roy’s stomach was filled less with anxiety and more with butterflies.
When she opened the door, Roy made no attempt to stop his jaw from dropping. He’d jokingly asked her to wear the little black dress she’d worn at the club all those months ago; apparently, despite her fierce independent streak, she listened well. The dress hugged her curves even better than he’d remembered, she had that perfect model hair that he wanted to touch, and her lips were so red and so kissable. And tonight, Roy got to lean forward and kiss them.
“Hi,” he hummed as he pulled back, leaning in the doorframe casually; even with his heart hammering in his chest, he could at least appear cool.
Apparently it worked, because she gazed up at him with those wide eyes, just as unsure as he felt. “Hey yourself.” She tilted her face to his and stole another kiss, a slow, sweet kiss, one that Roy couldn’t help sighing into. “Ready to go?”
He grabbed her hand and tugged her through the door. “Been ready for a long time.”
The ride to the restaurant was short, filled with hand-holding and easy conversation about their teams. Roy parked in the back, explaining that he’d pulled a couple of strings to get them some privacy. With his hand on the small of her back, he led her through the backdoor, into the kitchen. A hostess was there waiting for them with a bright smile, as though she greeted football legends in the staff parking lot all the time.
“I feel like I’m in Goodfellas,” Buck laughed, gazing up at Roy as they scurried through the kitchen, too wrapped up in each other to notice the smiles of the kitchen staff.
“You ever read the book it's based on?” Roy asked with a grin as they were led out of the kitchen. “It’s fucking great.”
While the hostess led them to a secluded corner, Roy ducked his head, trying not to draw attention. Likewise, Buck nuzzled close to Roy’s chest, turning her smiling face away from the rest of the world. Her smile widened when they entered their little private dining room, with a table set for two and low lighting. He pulled out her chair for her, pressing a kiss to her soft hair before she sat. Her giggle assured him that everything was perfect.
For the first time, the two of them just… talked. They exchanged favorite books and movies. They told childhood stories, especially ones about football. She listened with interest, no pity on her face, when Roy quietly explained his youth in Sunderland. He smiled broadly while she recalled her excitement when she was called up to the US National Women’s Team.
With every word and moment of laughter shared, Roy Kent found himself falling further in love.
~
“Oi, are you the manager of the Richmond Whippets? The new women’s team?”
I smirked up at the man who slid up next to me at the bar, handsome and bearded and smiling. “Why yes, I am,” I hummed over the pulsing club music. “Say, aren’t you the Roy Kent?”
He nodded, lifting his beer. “I am.” His eyes travelled unabashedly down my figure. “How about I buy you a drink? Give you a proper Richmond welcome?”
“That would be nice.”
Roy quickly ordered my drink, his fingers brushing against mine when he handed it to me. “Welcome to Richmond.”
I bit back a snicker and pressed myself close to him. “Wow, you Greyhounds sure are friendly,” I teased, batting my eyelashes at him. “You treat every coach like this?”
He ducked down to purr in my ear. “Only the gorgeous ones.”
It took every ounce of self-control not to attach my lips to his right then and there. But doing so would ruin the game; Roy, in a shockingly adorable display of romance, had brought me to the club where we’d first spoken, claiming he wanted to ‘make up for being the world’s biggest wanker’ the night we met.
So now he stood, gazing down at me with what could only be described as total affection, his fingertips brushing at the small of my back. “You know, Keeley Jones gave us a little report on you,” he murmured, the sparkle in his eye telling me he was enjoying his little performance. “Olympic gold medalist, hmm?”
I rolled my eyes and tucked some hair behind my ear. “Yes,” I giggled. “World Cup champion as well,” I added, giving him my cockiest grin.
“Wow.” He raised his thick eyebrows, giving an exaggerated look of awe. “Fucking impressive. Your boyfriend must be fucking proud of you.”
I sipped my drink coyly. “No boyfriend,” I answered with a wink.
He leaned closer, his hand wandering further down my backside. “Well then. No one would be mad if I asked you for a dance then?”
Fuck, Roy’s little game was getting me hot.
Roy urged me towards the dance floor, sipping his beer as we walked. Deciding to fuel the flirtation, I turned my back to him, pressing my backside against him. The vibration from his soft groan tickled my back; I’d made the right choice. Sipping my drink, I began to move my hips, melting a little when Roy planted his hand firmly on my hip. It had been a while since I’d last danced with a guy like this, flirty and seductive; but with Roy it was so damn easy. When I gave a particularly wicked grind against him, his breath was on my ear.
“You’re fucking mean,” he growled.
I tilted my face back towards him. “Don’t play nice, remember?”
I could feel his smile against my bare shoulder. “I remember.”
Two songs. We lasted two whole songs of drinking and grinding and flirting. When I felt something hard against my backside, I glanced back at Roy, eyebrows raised.
“Are you inviting me over for a drink or what, Kent?”
Sam Cooke on the stereo. Glasses of Scotch on the coffee table. Roy Kent’s mouth on mine.
It felt familiar to me now, and I couldn’t get enough. He had one hand firmly in my hair while the other wandered up and down my bare thigh. Mine gripped his muscular arms, trying to pull him closer. As I trailed kisses down his jaw, leaving a path of red lipstick stains on his skin, he squirmed and let out a soft groan.
“D’you- d’you want me to drive you home?” His voice was soft and timid, as if he was dreading my answer.
I pulled back from where I’d been planting sloppy kisses on his neck and stood, taking his hand in mine. “Come on, Kent,” I hummed. “Let’s see if I remember where your bedroom is.”
My heels came off in the living room. Roy lost his shirt somewhere in the hallway. The zipper on my dress was halfway down by the time he opened his bedroom door. By the time we fell onto his bed, we were both down to just our underwear and a pair of smiles.
“How’d you manage to get more perfect than last time?” Roy breathed as his eyes followed his hand up my tummy. “Fucking gorgeous.”
“You’re not too bad yourself, Kent,” I teased, running my fingers through his soft, curly hair. “Why d’you think I like running with you so much?” I pressed a kiss to his nose. “You without a shirt? Great view.”
He thanked me for my compliment with a deep kiss and a hand on my breast. I arched into his touch, hooking my leg behind his back and bucking my hips up into him. His other hand roamed down my body until reaching my panties; I mentally thanked myself for the recent impulse purchase of this sexy little lace pair. Roy thumbed at the material, groaning when he brushed against the wet spot that had probably begun to form back at the club.
“Can I take these off?” he murmured, grazing his nose against my cheek. “Pretty fucking please?”
Shit. I could probably come just from the tone of his voice, all sugary and affectionate. The only thing I could do was nod desperately as Roy removed the pesky material. His fingers immediately came to my entrance, rubbing gentle circles, smearing the slick that had already gathered.
Roy buried his face in the crook of my neck. “Fucking hell,” came his muffled moan.
“Roy,” I gasped, giving his hair a little tug. “I swear on my life, if you don’t take your fucking boxers off right now-”
He pulled his face away from my neck and gazed at me with a soft smile. “Fucking needy,” he teased, kissing my forehead. “I have been waiting for this since the gala,” he reminded me, his voice far too relaxed for someone who was inching his fingers into my cunt. “Let me enjoy you.”
So I did. I threw my head back with a soft groan, focusing on the sensation of Roy’s two fingers exploring me, pumping in and out with leisurely ease. He watched my face carefully, smirking every time I shuddered or gasped or did something to show I was enjoying myself. When he added his thumb to my clit, the sound of my lewd moan practically echoed throughout the house.
“Dammit, Buck,” he murmured, kissing my mouth. “You were holding back last time. I fucking love the way you sound.”
I opened my eyes and narrowed them playfully. “Don’t call me ‘Bucky’ in bed, remember?” I nipped at his jaw. “That’s only for the pitch, Roy.”
He laughed and followed my mouth, stealing another kiss as he continued his slow strokes. “What should I call you then? Babe? Gorgeous? Darling?”
The giggle that tumbled past my lips was girlish, almost unrecognizable to me. “Darling, huh? Shit, you sound so English saying that.”
“Forgot you Americans love the accent,” he teased. He brought his lips to my ear, sending shivers down my spine as he whispered, “Darling, I fancy you.”
“Fuck,” I laughed. “That should not turn me on that much.” I gripped his arms tightly, grinding harshly into his hand. “And yet…” I raised my eyebrows coyly. “Roy?”
“Yes, darling?”
I buried my groan against his face. “Are you going to fuck me, or what?”
His laughter filled the room and my heart. “See, this is what happens when two managers get together. Fucking bossy.” He nuzzled his nose against mine. “You’re lucky you’re beautiful.” His eyes sparkled mischievously. “Darling.”
“Well since I’m so damn bossy,” I huffed with a chuckle. My fingertips tingled as I reached down and began tugging down his boxers; a soft groan flew out of my mouth when I felt his leaking tip brush against my already sticky inner thigh.
Bringing his mouth back to mine, Roy slowly removed his fingers, swallowing my reflexive whine. He pulled his face away so he could watch me, his bearded face colored with affection, as he slowly inched into me. His lips curved into a smile when my hips lifted off the bed, my body begging him to thrust into me already.
“Fuck,” I whimpered as my eyes screwed shut.
How could anyone ever hate Roy Kent? How could I ever hate Roy Kent?
Roy Kent, with his fingers that dug into my skin and left a burning trail. Roy Kent, with his mouth that swallowed every moan and swear word that he elicited from my mouth. Roy Kent, with his cock that stretched and filled me as if our bodies were made for each other. Roy Kent, with his delicious growl that said my name like a prayer. Roy Kent, with those soft brown eyes that held the one word neither of us quite knew how to say: love.
The rolling of his hips was slow, intentional, languid, as though we had all the time in the world. The heat and urgency from last time was gone, replaced with affection and tenderness. Along with the utter pleasure between my legs, I felt safe, adored, cherished in Roy’s arms. I ran my hands down the warm skin of his back, my nails softly grazing his skin, hoping he felt the same affection from me.
“Want you so bad,” Roy huffed between thrusts, pressing his damp forehead to mine. “Wanted you- wanted you for a while.”
“You’ve got me,” I assured him. “You’ve fucking got me.”
He nodded, his beard scratching my face deliciously. “I- I really want you,” he repeated breathlessly. “Not just tonight. But… I want you.”
Most other guys, most other nights, this would be far too intimate- especially on a first date. But because it was Roy- and he had those eyes- and was kissing me with that mouth- and all we’d been through to get to this moment-
“Roy Kent,” I whispered, knowing this would be the last coherent sentence I’d be able to manage for a while. “I’m fucking yours.”
~
It was the happiest morning Roy had experienced in a long time. Maybe the happiest morning ever.
Bucky’s back was pressed against his chest. She was wearing one of his black shirts, her lipstick was completely fucked, her hair was a mess, her neck was covered in little red marks. And she was the most perfect thing Roy had ever seen. She stirred in her sleep, pressing closer to his body. When she mumbled sleepy nonsense, he swore he heard his name on her lips.
Careful not to wake her, Roy wrapped an arm around her to pull her closer. This was what the morning after the gala should have been, he thought to himself. Sleepy bliss as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head, smiling when he breathed in that now familiar scent of lavender and vanilla, his new favorite combination. He wasn’t sure how long he stayed like that, just holding her, but he could see the early morning light begin to peek through the window just as she turned her head to glance at him.
Roy tightened his grip around her middle. “Don’t you fucking dare run away this time,” he joked. “I’m making a proper English breakfast for my favorite Yank.”
She shifted onto her back, stroking Roy’s cheek as she gazed up at him. “No running away,” she promised softly. “I’m afraid there’s no getting rid of me now, Roy Kent.”
“That a fucking promise?” Roy heaved himself on top of her, laughing as he gently squashed her. “So? How about some breakfast?”
“Sounds perfect.” She smacked a kiss to his cheek, which he tried to turn into a real kiss. She ducked away. “Nuh-uh, I’ve got morning breath.”
Roy laughed and followed her mouth. “Do I look like I fucking care?” With that, he stole a real kiss, loving the way she gave into him and even let her tongue brush against his lips. Before he could be tempted to escalate things further, Roy rolled out of bed and held out his hand to her. “Coffee?”
Hand in hand, the two ambled to the kitchen, exchanging bashful smiles when they saw their discarded clothes along the way. Once in the kitchen, Roy grabbed her hips and lifted her onto the counter, savoring her surprised little squeak. He got his coffeemaker going and turned his attention to the fridge so he could start pulling out ingredients.
“Want any help?” she asked from her perch as she tried to smooth down her wild hair.
Roy shook his head, pausing to kiss her nose. “Fuck no. I told you I was making you breakfast, so I’m making you breakfast.”
So she sat, smiling softly as she watched him prepare eggs and sausages and beans and all the other things he’d bought just for her. He brought her a mug of coffee, exchanging it for a slow kiss before returning to his cooking.
“Keeley wasn’t fucking kidding,” she murmured.
Roy turned and looked at her with a curious grin. “Fuck’s that supposed to mean?”
She shrugged. “A while back, just before the gala actually, she was telling me what a great boyfriend you are. Said she could basically write you a letter of recommendation.”
“Boyfriend, huh?” He paused his work to come stand between her thighs, eyebrows raised teasingly.
He loved seeing her blush, all soft and timid compared to her usual toughness. “I mean… you know… we… you’re just…” She rolled her eyes. “Oh, fuck off Kent.” With that, she pressed her mouth to his, as though trying to distract him, or shut him up. Probably both.
Roy laughed against her lips, cupping her face. When he pulled back, he noticed her blush had deepened. “I can be whatever you want,” he murmured softly.
The shyest smile spread across her sleepy face. “How about ‘mine’?” Immediately, her eyes widened and she ducked her head. “Shit,” she laughed awkwardly. “That sounded so… fuck, I’m sorry, is that too…?”
Roy lifted her chin tenderly. “Oi,” he whispered in his softest voice. “I have been fucking waiting to be yours, Buck. For a while now. But if you think things are… are going too fast or if they get too intense or if I…” He cleared his throat. “If I get too clingy… Please fucking tell me.” He brushed his thumb against her bottom lip. “I’m just so fucking happy right now,” he explained. “And I know I can get really fucking intense and clingy and-”
“Roy.” She smiled and brought her hand to his cheek. “I think if any two people have earned the right to be intense and clingy, it’s us, don’t you think?”
“Yeah.” Roy leaned his forehead to hers as a smile spread across his face. “We’ve fucking earned it.”
~
I spent the entire weekend with Roy. After my full English breakfast and some rather adult activities in the kitchen, Roy drove me home to grab a few things; other than that, we didn’t leave his house at all. We fell into a pattern of sex, and cuddling, and eating, and more sex, all weekend long. I found that I really liked wearing his shirts around his house and eating the food he cooked and laughing at his stories about the Greyhounds and watching the movies he loved- and dammit, I really liked him.
Late Sunday evening, we lounged on his couch, some old black and white movie on the television. I sat back, with my legs thrown over his lap, loving the feeling of his hand roaming up and down my bare legs as he watched the movie. His eyes kept wandering over to me, full of warmth and affection.
My eyes, however, landed on the clock.
“I should head home soon,” I murmured, shifting myself until I was straddling Roy’s lap, facing him. “We should both get some rest after…” I grinned mischievously. “Well, let’s just say it was a very active weekend.”
Roy brushed some loose hair off of my face. “I don’t want rest.” He pressed a slow kiss to my lips. “Fucking want you.”
A low groan escaped my throat as I pressed my forehead to his; fuck, staying in this house forever was tempting. “We’ve got training in the morning, Coach,” I reminded him pointedly, probably reminding myself more.
“Let’s just fucking cancel training then. Tell everyone we’re sick.” The grin he wore told me he was half-joking. Maybe a little less than half.
I ran my fingers through his hair and gently pushed his head back. “Oh yeah, both managers calling in sick,” I scoffed. “That’s not suspicious at all.”
“Fucking spoilsport,” he hummed, pecking my nose. His hand wandered up the black shirt I was borrowing to stroke my bare back. “So, since apparently you’re making me go to work tomorrow, what d’you think about…” He cleared his throat, not quite looking me in the eye. “Tomorrow. At Nelson Road. Are we, I don’t fucking know, telling people? About… this? Us?”
“Oh.” My thumb stroked the crease that had suddenly appeared between his thick eyebrows. “I mean, do you want to?”
Roy sighed. “I don’t fucking know.” He buried his face in my neck, tickling my skin with his beard. “Everything we went through with the fucking pictures… it’d be nice to just keep it to ourselves for a bit, you know? Enjoy ourselves a bit before having everyone’s fucking opinions and comments and questions.” He tapped his nose to mine. “What d’you think?” His brown eyes were full of worry, as if I were about to run away again.
 I slipped my arms around his neck. “I think I’d like to keep things quiet,” I admitted. “Let us get used to being together without the damn press making another mess of things.” I smirked. “Plus, keeping things a secret might be kind of sexy. All that sneaking around we’ll be doing,” I teased.
He laughed and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Have I mentioned yet that you’re fucking perfect?”
“You could mention it again,” I purred, batting my eyelashes at him.
His smile turned mischievous. “One more for the road?” he asked, nodding towards the bedroom.
I scrambled to my feet, pulling him up with me as our now-forgotten movie continued to play. “One more for the road.”
~
Roy should’ve known that Monday was going to be a challenge. But shit, when she walked into her office with her bouncy ponytail and leggings, Roy thought he was going to explode. Sure, they’d spent all of Sunday night texting after he’d dropped her off at home, but after a weekend of having her in his bed (and several other places around his home), the sight of her had Roy biting back the stupidest fucking smile. If Roy wasn’t careful, he’d look just as goofy and lovesick as-
“Mornin’, Coach!”
Ted stood grinning in the doorway, holding a couple of folders. Roy couldn’t help but notice the little pink lipstick mark on Ted’s cheek.
“You see Rebecca this morning?” Roy asked with a smirk, nodding to Ted’s face.
The American’s eyes went wide as he touched his cheek. “Oh. Well, I uh….” He chuckled bashfully. “Aw heck, who’m I kidding? Yeah, I popped up to her office to say good morning and bring her some biscuits.” He let out a content sigh and leaned on the doorframe. “Just can’t believe it took us so long, y’know?” He followed Roy’s distracted gaze to the office next door; Bucky was looking at her computer, clearly trying to keep herself from looking into the Greyhounds office. “Guess maybe you do know,” Ted hummed quietly. He cleared his throat. “You do that ‘grand gesture’ yet?”
Roy cleared his throat and ripped his eyes away from her, choosing instead to narrow them at Ted. “You need something?”
“Oh, here.” Ted strolled over and handed Roy one of the folders. “Got a little scouting report for ya. Some impressive young men I think you’d be interested in.” He nodded towards the Whippets office. “Got a visit to the States next week, there’s a couple college gals I want to check out for her.”
“That’s nice,” Roy mumbled vaguely, pretending not to care, like he wasn’t excited to be talking about her. When Ted just kept staring at him, he cleared his throat. “Anything else?”
Ted wasn’t completely clueless, not really. He could see the shiftiness in Roy’s eyes, the way the manager was clearly fighting the urge to stare through the window, the tiny little tug in the corner of his mouth every time he failed. While Ted didn’t know the extent of what was going on between the two managers, he did know that the look in Roy’s brown eyes was the same look Ted knew he often had around Rebecca.
“Say, I’ve gotta run,” Ted lied. “Think you could slip this on over to the Whippets?” He handed Roy the other folder, one that had the W.F.C. Richmond logo on it. “Thanks, Roy.” Before Roy could say anything, Ted turned and walked out, humming happily to himself.
For a moment, Roy just stared at the folder. He was an adult man; he could manage himself, right? He could be professional. He was Roy fucking Kent, after all. Nodding to himself, he stood and strolled over to the Whippets office, approaching her desk calmly, determined to be the picture of professionalism-
“Good morning, darling,” he hummed in her ear, every coherent thought flying out of his mind when he caught a whiff of vanilla and lavender.
She quickly glanced over his shoulder, checking that no one could hear them. “Subtle, Kent,” she snorted. “What happened to keeping things quiet?” The sparkle in her eye assured him that she didn’t mind, not one bit.
He shrugged, dropping the folder onto her desk and perching himself on its edge. “Do I sound like a total wanker if I said you look way too fucking pretty today?”
“Only a little,” she chuckled. She bit her lip and gazed up at him. “Hi,” she whispered, gently ghosting her hand over his.
He leaned down towards her face. “Hi.”
“Roy? Hey, Roy?”
The sight of Jamie jogging into Roy’s office had the two managers retreating from their almost kiss. Rolling his eyes, Roy cleared his throat to get the striker’s attention. Jamie’s pretty face lit up when he saw the two gaffers in such close proximity.
“Good morning, Coaches,” he greeted in a far-too-sugary voice. “Roy, you feelin’ better?”
Roy frowned. “Fuck are you on about?”
Jamie wore that familiar confused pout. “On Saturday morning, you told me you were sick. Said that’s why we couldn’t train. You said you’d be in bed all weekend.”
Shit. “Oh, yeah, feeling loads better.” His face was burning as Buck held back a snicker. “We’ll train tonight, alright, Tartt?” He narrowed his eyes at the pretty manager. “See you later, Coach.”
She punched his arm playfully, smirking as he hopped off her desk. “Later, Coach.”
~
“Bucky, is your ankle alright?” Lucas gazed at me with concern in his eyes.
I wrinkled my nose and absently kicked at the grass with the toe of my sneaker. “Uh, yeah. I guess. Why?” I kept my gaze on the pitch, mentally working on my lineup for our next match.
He shrugged, his concern giving way to curiosity. “You’ve been limping all morning. Thought maybe you’d gotten hurt or something.”
“Have I?” I asked dumbly.
Damn, I was hoping that the slight stumble in my step wasn’t too noticeable. I knew I’d have a little bit of a hard time today; at some point over the weekend, I’d lost count of what round Roy and I were on. It was almost as if we were trying to make up for all the sex we would’ve been having if we’d just gotten together after the gala instead of dancing around our feelings. I’d woken up Monday feeling sorer than I had since retiring; the feeling had me reaching for my most comfortable shoes and leggings with a sloppy grin. Apparently my inability to walk properly was more obvious than I thought.
“How was your weekend?” he asked slowly, eyebrows raised. “Didn’t hear from you too much.”
I folded my arms. “Fine. Nothing too exciting. Just, you know, relaxed and stuff.”
“Relaxed,” he repeated with a slow nod. “Right.”
His tone was far too suspicious. “Lucas,” I murmured, finally tearing my gaze from our team. “What are you imply-”
“Coach.”
Hopefully Lucas didn’t hear my breath hitch when Roy’s fingers brushed against my back. The manager raised his eyebrows at me, quickly bringing his hand back to his side as the Greyhounds came out onto the pitch, calling out boisterous greetings as they passed us. Some of them looked especially smug when they saw Roy standing next to me. Lucas turned and blew his whistle, calling the Whippets in.
“Need something, Kent?” I did my best to keep my voice even, as though my head wasn’t swimming with the now familiar scent of Roy.
He shrugged as our teams mingled past each other. “Just wanted to check if you still wanted to go running today.” For the briefest moment, his eyes flickered down my figure until returning to my eyes. “New episode of Lust Conquers All is on tonight.” He bobbed his head, appearing significantly more casual than I felt. “Could drop you off after, before I have to meet Tartt.”
“Sounds good,” I managed before taking a step back to follow my team back inside. “Have a good practice, Coach.”
He saluted to me, wearing a smirk that I wanted to feel against my skin. “See you later.”
As Lucas and I followed the Whippets to the weight room, Lucas bumped his hip into mine. “Criminy, just call me the Invisible Man.”
I snorted. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Oh, just that Coach Kent only has eyes for you these days,” he teased, throwing his arm around my shoulder. “I’m sure he’s got more than just eyes for you. He probably has a nice, big-”
“I will kill you,” I growled, shoving my assistant coach’s arm off me. “Seriously. You all spend months begging me and Roy to be friends, we finally are, and now you’re giving me shit about it? Not to mention all the smug looks everyone wears whenever we’re around each other.” My phone vibrated in my pocket. “I swear to God, everyone who works here is insane.”
Lucas laughed good-naturedly as we reached the training room. “Fine, fine. You and Kent are friends, neither of you is shagging the other, all is right with the world.” He nodded towards the door. “You comin’?”
I nodded and pulled my phone out of my pocket, noting the text notification on my screen. “In a sec.”
Want me to come over after training with Tartt? We can get in some more cardio ;)
It was a good thing Lucas was already focusing on training, because my face was on fire when I read Roy’s text. Biting back a grin, I quickly responded with a Sounds good Coach ;) and tucked my phone away.
When I entered the training room, Lucas raised his eyebrows at me. “And who was that?”
I shoved his shoulder with a laugh. “Fuck off.”
Yeah, hiding this whole thing was going to go well. Really fucking well.
At least sneaking around would be fun.
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