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#i KNOW that's not exactly right BUT STILL.
radiance1 · 3 days
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"I need to find my darling husband!" Said Danny, dressed to the nines in a very elaborate royal dress with a lot of jewelry running through the ballroom after having been on the opposite end of a very worrying phone call.
"Seriously, what do you even see in that mortal!?" Screamed an observant and Danny stopped and leveled them with a glare cold enough to freeze over an active volcano and sharp enough to cut through obsidian.
"He makes me laugh."
Unlike those dead suitors went unsaid, but everyone at the ball (read: search for a bride/groom for the royal ghostling) practically heard it anyways.
Meanwhile over in the land of the living
Okay so Jason may have messed up. Now you see, he hasn't seen his platonic husband for tax benefits in a while, and he's been very careful to not let his identity as the Red Hood slip up before . Not even once in their relationship.
(He's not counting the time his in-laws sniffed him out as a Crime Lord, because Danny never believed them.)
Now, it wasn't exactly his fault he slipped up. You try to fight off an entire group after being pulled up on out of nowhere on the phone while trying to hide said noises of fighting.
Who was he calling? Danny of course since he said he was away for business. What business? Never specified and Jason wasn't going to pry.
So now here he was, bound 'helplessly' as Jason Todd along with a few other random civilians. Which, like, rude.
Wasn't he already good enough for this ancient ritual or whatever?
You know, he really should have walked with that "Anti-kidnapping device" he got that one time. Which honestly he feels like he should be surprised that such a thing exists but considering it was from Bruce. Well.
He's not surprised.
Oh, there's the Justice League now. Shame, he wanted to knock out a few guys himself- Oh, now he's being used to summon a ghost from the Infinite Realms of Royal Lineage.
Yea he probably should have walked with that "Anti-kidnapping device."
Wait a goddamn-
Is that-
"My darling husband!" Danny shouted, scooping him off the circle and away from the head cultist and swinging him around. "You had me worried sick!"
Now, he should ask the question anyone would in this situation when finding out your best friend and platonic husband for tax benefits was apparently a ghost of royal lineage.
"Why're you in a dress?"
"Okay, first of all I rock this thing." Danny huffed.
"That you do." Jason agreed rather easily.
"Second of all, blame those guys over there." He jerked his head in the direction of two very green floating eyeball people.
Not the weirdest he's seen, honestly.
The Observants were whispering to each other and leveling them-Jason in particular-a look.
"Now as you can see, I already have a spouse and I don't need another!" Danny hugged Jason closer for emphasis and he took the time to whisper in Danny's ear. "Did you really marry me to play the husband card?"
"Well, yes." Danny agreed. "But also because of taxes, because I love you and you're my best friend."
"So, we're still done for watching that movie right."
"Obviously."
A pained grunt came from below them and they both looked down to see Batman standing over a very unconscious cultist and looking up at them.
Hm.
He forgot they were there.
"So," Jason began, staring Bruce straight in the eyes. Batman's eyes narrowed. "Don't suppose we can push that forward to right now?"
"Yea, sure why not I'm not doing anything important." Danny leveled the Observants a look, and before either they, Batman, or the Justice League could do anything they both disappeared.
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sourlove · 3 days
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YANDERE JOCK 🏈
TW: OBSESSION, YANDERE THEMES, STALKING, MILD HARASSMENT, IMPLIED MURDER
(FEMALE CHEERLEADER READER)
Yandere! Jock who is convinced that the two of you are dating.
Yandere! Jock who is like a golden retriever but is a freaking beast on the field and absolutely crushes every game because he sees you cheering on the sidelines for him. When asked how he gets his wins, he says, "My girl is watching. Can't let her down."
Yandere! Jock who blows you kisses and waves even when you ignore him. He just loves you so much and is so happy when he spots you. Sure you might not always respond but the just means he has to try harder next time.
Yandere! Jock who doesn't care when you tell him to leave you alone. You're probably just in a bad mood but it's okay! He'll make you feel better!
Yandere! Jock who has the school also convinced that you guys are dating. He follows you around like a puppy and he always calls you 'my girl' so people naturally assumed you were together. Whenever you try to squash the rumors, he amps it up again.
Yandere! Jock who loves when people think you're together. He begs asks you to wear his letterman jacket so you have his name on you. He literally lights up if you wear it because it's cold or you want him to stop pestering you.
Yandere! Jock who only messes up during games when he stops to watch your cheer routine. If you're on top of a pyramid or some other dangerous stunt, he's rushing off the field to catch you. The football coach has since banned you from participating in any stunts.
Yandere! Jock who is glued to you so much that you slowly start to get used to his presence. He takes advantage of your indifference and tries to do more stuff to get you to acknowledge him. He carries your stuff, buys you lunch, drives you home and even walks you home when you don't want to enter his car. Sure, you don't exactly know he's walking with you but he's just looking out for his best girl!
Yandere! Jock who is so eager to see you, sometimes, that he's waiting outside your door first thing in the morning. What you don't know is that he's been there all night, staring at your window and waiting for you to wake up.
Yandere! Jock who bribes the cheerleaders to wingman for him. All of a sudden, your team is telling you what a sweetheart he is and how you guys look so great together. With all these people on his side, you have to give in sooner or later, right?
Yandere! Jock who finally asks you to be his girlfriend officially and is over the moon when you agree. If you thought he was clingy before, just wait. He's started leaving his things around for you to wear or carry like he's staking his claim on you. You have to explain the concept of personal space and alone time to him but he just stares at you in confusion. Why would you not want to be around him all the time? He loves being around you!
Yandere! Jock who runs up after every game to hug you, despite your protests because he's so sweaty. It's like a dog being so excited they just jump on you and lick all over you. His teammates have to drag him away to his dismay. He just wanted to give you a little kiss, why's everyone keeping you from him?
Yandere! Jock who let's you take charge, in and outside of the bedroom. Boy's just happy to be there.
Yandere! Jock who is clingy even in his sleep. He likes to lay on top of you so you can't slip away and leave him all alone. He's huge so it's like sleeping under a giant space heater. If it's too hot to cuddle, he pouts and whines when you tell him not to touch you at all. He still finds a way though, and sometimes you wake up to him holding your hand from across the pillow wall.
Yandere! Jock who is actually pretty harmless. He's like a giant puppy and isn't violent with the people around you. All he wants is your love and attention 24/7 and everyone is pretty much used to his antics to know where the line is drawn. That is, until a new person comes to school and starts making moves on you.
Yandere! Jock who is usually very friendly but is cold with only them and refusing to leave your side when they're near you.
Yandere! Jock who is in a great mood when they suddenly disappear without a trace.
READ PART 2 HERE
A/N: Please leave a like, comment and reblog if you enjoyed this! I personally this character he's adorable. If you want any headcanons or special requests, leave an ask too :)
@justabratsworld @pinkrose1422 (i feel like you'll like this oc lol)
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nereidprinc3ss · 1 day
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drunk in love
in which fem!reader gets extra affectionate with spencer when she's drunk and he's just happy to be there
fluff! warnings/tags: drunk!reader, tooth-rottingly sweet fluff, spencer loves you so bad, short n sweet, that's it a/n: this is for the person who requested spencer taking care of drunk!reader and they're just being really cute and kissy and i lost your request i'm sorry but i hope you see this!! if you guys like this pls let me know, i have spencer helping drunk!r with a bath locked and loaded and its also so cute oh my god i love him goodnight
“Spence,” you say, voice pretty and airy as a song, pressing butterfly-light kisses with soft lips all over the side of his face. 
“What?” he asks fondly, fighting to keep his grip on you secure as you keep trying to fall down and bring him with you. This bar isn’t necessarily a dive, but he’s sure the floor is still sticky and he’s not interested in checking. 
“I really love you so much. I love you so much more than anyone else has ever loved anyone before.” It’s the fourth or fifth time you’ve told him you love him so much in ten minutes, but it doesn’t feel any less wonderful to hear. “Say it back!” you pout, settling against his chest. 
“You didn’t give me time to say it back,” he explains patiently, looking down at you and brushing hair behind your ear. “I love you so much, too, baby.”
Suddenly you’re too flustered and shy to make eye contact. 
“Call me that again.”
Spencer’s brow furrows. His smile flickers wider. 
“What? Baby?” You nod into his chest. He smooths your hair. “I call you baby all the time.”
“Because you love me?”
“Because I love you,” he agrees solemnly. 
You squeak, covering your face with your hands. Not for the first time tonight, he wonder what exactly was in those drinks Penelope kept ordering for you.
“Kiss?”
He gently grabs your wrists. 
“You have to show me that pretty face if you want a kiss.”
Your hands slide down your cheeks and you tilt your head up. Now that your face is on display, pretty and shiny in the low lighting, Spencer ducks down and kisses you sweetly, one hand on the back of your head, the other pulling your wrists down and out of the way. He makes sure to not let it go on for too long. There are still plenty of people around, but more saliently, you are quite drunk. 
“Good?” he asks, brushing a thumb over your cheek as he pulls away.
“Can we kiss forever?”
“We can try,” he muses. 
“I love you,” you say again, plainly. “I wish there was a word stronger than love. I feel like I’ve said love so much it’s lost all its meaning.”
“Keep saying it,” he encourages. “I like hearing it.”
“Can I tell you a secret?” you whisper. Spencer leans down for you to cup your hand to his ear clandestinely. Sweet vanilla perfume still clings to your warm skin, lingering on your neck, mixing with the smell of fruity cocktails on your breath and making him dizzy. “I think JJ has a crush on you.”
He chuckles, straightening. Grieving the loss of your scent for just a second in the back of his mind—until you’re pressing against him anxiously, and it returns. 
“JJ is married, babe. I don’t think so.”
You pout. 
“No, but I really think she does! It makes me sad!”
Spencer doesn’t believe it for a second, but he knows hard logic and persuasion aren’t really going to do much for you right now. So he loops an arm around your waist and reigns you in. 
“You don’t need to be sad, sweetheart. It doesn’t matter who has a crush on me because I have a crush on you.”
“Just me?” you ask anxiously. 
“Just you. You’re the prettiest girl in the world. I have a huge crush on you.”
He realizes his voice has taken on that saccharine quality that Derek would give him shit for, and it’s probably visible in his eyes as he leans close to you, but he doesn’t care at all. 
You raise your chin, wordlessly asking for another kiss. He delivers. The fabric of his shirt tugs where you grab onto it, attempting to bring him closer even when he draws away from the kiss. Of course he allows it, narrowly avoiding stepping on your toes as you pull him to you like a dog on a leash. 
“Can we go home? I wanna cuddle.”
Oh, yeah. If Derek were present he’d have the most ridiculous, shit-eating grin on his face right now. Luckily he’s not here right now, and even if he were, Spencer would still brush your hair aside and say, absolutely we can go home and cuddle. 
“Of course we can. Do you want to say goodbye to everyone?”
“Mm… can we Irish goodbye?”
He chuckles. 
“I think you should say thank you to Penelope for buying you all of those ridiculous drinks that are making you so nice.”
You make a face. 
“I’m always nice.”
“You’re not always this nice,” he reminds you with a small smile, resting his hands on your waist. You frown. 
“In my head I am.”
He kisses your head. It’s impossible not to. 
“I know. Come on, let’s say bye. I want to go home too.”
“You think I’m not usually nice?”
“Of course I don’t think that. I think you’re so nice.”
“Oh my god, can we get ice cream?” You gasp, already distracted and pulling him along by the hand as you weave through the sparse crowd. 
He smiles to himself, happy to follow your lead as long as you don’t let go. 
“We can definitely get ice cream. We can do whatever you want.”
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Deerboy Yan who tries to get himself caught in cannibal hunter reader's nets so they'll take him back to their home where they'll hopefully have their way with him and keep him as their pet-
"Ahhh- Help! I was walking home all by myself when I felt into this net. It's getting dark soon- Somebody, please save me."
The switch of a pocket blade slices through the still night air. His ears twitch as a twig snaps somewhere in the darkness brooding over his shoulder. Exhilaration draws at the corner of his lips as a voice rasps out- eerily calming as it is dreadfully familar. Like a second kiss with death.
"These traps aren't for you, Deer."
A single cut is all it takes for the net to come crashing to the forest floor.
"Not enough meat on your bones for me. You aren't exactly my preferred choice of meat to start off with."
The deer claws his way out of the net's opening. The drop wasn't too steep, and he needed to act quick. He's been in enough of your safer traps to know his way out - nine times out of ten. Dragging his nails and body through the dirt, the net's rope tangles around his hooves as he struggles. The hybrid tries to kick it off till near exhaustion- flopping onto his back as he kicks his tied legs in the air for you to see.
"But look at what how clumsy I am. It would be so easily for you to drag me back to your house like this.... Using me for hours till I can't fight back anymore when you finally decide to free me."
You turn to walk away.
"You know I think I'd be good bait for other humans."
You stop dead in your tracks.
"A weak, helpless deer chained up in that old slaughter house. "Help, Help! They're going to kill and eat me next. Please, won't somebody save me?" Pretty convincing, right? Just think about all the meat you could have - if you just take me home with you."
A squeal of joy escapes the hybrid's lips as you grab him by the antler's - pulling him along in the direction of your cabin.
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woso-dreamzzz · 2 days
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Helper
Lia Wälti x Child!Reader
Leah Williamson x Child!Reader
Summary: You're the best helper
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When auntie Leah tears her acl, Mummy moves you and herself into Leah's house.
She says it's because Leah will need some support. You think it's because Mummy thinks Leah won't eat proper meals. Sometimes, Mummy says Leah eats like she's rationing which means she's got a bad palate and the taste buds of a kid a lot younger than you.
But Mummy is insistent that auntie Leah just needs a bit of support and some help.
Thankfully though, Mummy always calls you her best helper so you make sure to be Leah's best helper too.
"Morning, guppy," Mummy greets you one morning.
"Hi, Mummy," You say, giving her a big morning hug. You're still very little, not yet old enough to go to school but you're getting there. Mummy says next year, you were born just a few days too late to go to school this year.
That's fine though.
That gives you time to be a big help to auntie Leah.
"What's for breakfast?" You try to peak up at the counter but you're still too little and Mummy smiles.
"Pancakes."
You gasp. "Really?"
"Really, guppy. Now, before pancakes, what must we do?"
"Wash our hands."
"That's right. Your auntie Leah is still sleeping. Do you want to wake her up for me? So we can all have pancakes?"
You nod.
"Okay, off you go."
You hurry up the stairs to auntie Leah's room and slip inside.
Mummy is right. Leah's fast asleep, like a big lump in the middle of the bed. Her crutches are on the floor near the door and you move to lean them up closer to her, so she can grab them.
You also move all of the clothes out of the way of the path to her door.
A few days ago, Mummy caught you trying to clean Leah's room for her but she said Leah's an adult and she doesn't need help keeping her room tidy and just because yours is always neat doesn't mean that Leah's had to be the same.
That was a little confusing because Mummy's room is also clean and tidy so you'd just assumed it was an adult thing.
You shuffle the clothes out of the way though just so it's easier for her.
Leah doesn't like the big light in the morning because it always scares her awake so you half-open her curtains before finally properly approaching her.
"Auntie Leah," You whisper, shaking her shoulder," It's morning time."
Leah grunts a little, trying to roll over. "Five more minutes."
"Mummy's making pancakes," You tell her," And she told me to get you up. We need to wash our hands before eating."
Leah seems a bit more awake at that and you help her pull her covers down so she can get out of bed.
"Thanks, guppy," She says as you help her with her crutches.
"That's okay, auntie Leah! We still need to go to the bathroom to do our hands though. Mummy says it's very important to wash the germs off our hands before eating."
"Oh, wow," Leah says as she walks with you," Thanks for telling me."
"That's okay," You reply, holding the bathroom door open for her," Mummy also says two squirts of soap to make sure you're hands are very clean and the germs go away."
To demonstrate, you stand on your stool and squirt two loads of soap on your hand and wash your hands like Mummy's shown you since you were little.
You supervise Leah washing your hands before helping her down the stairs, picking up all the things that were strewn across them last night.
"Mummy," You say," Auntie Leah and I washed our hands."
Lia turns around just as Leah slides into her seat. "Well," She says," You're right on time because I just finished the pancakes." She helps you up onto your own seat, cutting up your pancakes for you before sliding the plate towards you.
"Mummy," You say as you eat," Do we need to do dishes?"
"I do, yes," Mummy says in amusement, knowing exactly what you want to ask.
"Can I help?"
"I don't know, guppy," She says," Are you sure? You can go and play with Leah."
You shake your head. "No thank you, Mummy. I can help you. Auntie Leah can relax."
Leah snickers at your side. "Jesus, Lia, are you sure you're raising a child? I've never met a kid so well behaved."
Lia rolls her eyes. "I'm raising her to be polite. It's not my fault she's naturally like that."
You beam proudly at that, puffing out your chest whenever anyone tells you that you're being polite.
"Are you sure, guppy?" Auntie Leah checks with you," We can sit down and play FIFA."
"No thank you, auntie Leah," You say," I'd like to help Mummy clean up first."
"Well," Leah says, sticking her hands up," I tried."
Lia laughs as she picks you up, dragging another one of your stools over so you can be high enough to reach the sink. "Thank you for wanting to help me, guppy."
"It's okay, Mummy," You reply," If we do it together then it'll take half the time!"
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benkeibear · 3 days
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⋆꙳✧༄ Faking an orgasm
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꒰ ͜͡➸ How they react (and punish) you for faking an orgasm
❖ Characters: Geto, Gojo, Toji
❖ Reader: genderneutral | AFAB
❖ WARNINGS: sub!reader, unprotected sex, creampie, thigh riding, mentions of fingering and masturbation/toys, degradation (reader being called "bitch", "pet"), reader getting called "Angel", "bunny", "baby"
❖ A/n: Don't wanna miss a post? Sign up for my taglist in my Navi! || Repost bc community label after 5 seconds
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☰ Geto:
ꕤ You were just exhausted from the day and somehow your head was everywhere but in the moment despite wanting nothing more than for your boyfriend to rail you like he was at the moment
ꕤ Geto had you on all fours before taking a fist full of hair to pull you up against his chest and you could feel his hips stutter
ꕤ Not wanting him to hold back you just faked it - giving it your best act
ꕤ He scoffed and pushed you into the mattress, your hips still high as your head got buried in the surface beneath you but he pulled out right before he came, letting his seed shoot over the globes of your ass and lower back
ꕤ You pouted at that “you promised to cum inside tonight,” you whined and heard him chuckle while shaking his head
ꕤ “Only good girls get filled with my cum - and you certainly aren't one,” he hissed before releasing your hair from his tight grip and you knew that he didn't believe that fake orgasm
ꕤ Before you were able to explain yourself to him, he patted his thigh, his back resting against the headboard “If you still want to cum you gotta work for it.”
ꕤ You were pouting but yes, yes you wanted to release so badly, unsure why you even faked it but this was your punishment now
ꕤ You straddled one of his thighs, his hands having a death grip on your hips to rut you against his leg at his desired speed - slow and with barely any pressure, making sure to let you suffer
ꕤ “Go ahead, dove, thank me for helping you,” He hummed, a playful smirk on his lips
ꕤ Without thinking much, you started thanking him for being so generous, for helping you to find pleasure. It made you feel so ashamed of faking it but that's exactly what he wanted
ꕤ “Keep up this slow pace, be a good girl and i might even slip a finger into your weeping cunt,” He breathed against your ear, knowing how much you love to ride his fingers
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☰ Gojo:
ꕤ Gojo knew something felt off when your moans weren't the same, sounding rather fake so it came as no surprise when you faked it
ꕤ You don't even know why you did it, things just didn't feel as intense or like you're gonna release any time soon and hoped he wouldn't notice - bot oh he did notice
ꕤ He just continued as if he didn't know and finished a short while later but rolled off right away, a playful smile on his lips and that's when you knew that you're fucked
ꕤ “Have fun finishing yourself off then,” He hummed unbothered, that teasing smirk only getting bigger when he saw your mortified face
ꕤ “Didn't think i would notice, hm bunny?” He asked amused before turning to face you, his head propped up on one arm
ꕤ You felt like a deer in headlights under his mocking gaze along with his teasing and somehow you really hoped he would help you release
ꕤ But Gojo wouldn't be Gojo if he wouldn't be a menace, slender fingers dancing over your skin, always close but never touching the areas you needed him so desperately
ꕤ “Is my cock not good enough anymore? Do you need your own little fingers now? Maybe even your adorable toy? yeah, i know of your little secrets,” He teases relentlessly, making you flustered but oh so turned on
ꕤ “Go ahead and touch yourself for me… let me see,” he giggled, wanting to guide your movements with his voice now
ꕤ He wouldn't touch you in order to help you, that was your little punishment
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☰ Toji:
ꕤ RIP to your little kitty
ꕤ Why you thought faking it is a good idea? Maybe because you know exactly how mad he gets after
ꕤ It hurts his ego more than anything that he can't satisfy you to the point where you see it necessary to fake it but you love how he reacts so you fake it
ꕤ Tojis hips slow down in pace when your walls don't grip him like a vice as they usually do and with one swift movement he manhandles you into a mating press
ꕤ “Think I'm too dumb to notice, angel? Let me teach you a lesson” he growls while he pushes your legs tightly against your chest, his cock now deeper than before which made you whimper
ꕤ “That's what I thought. Crying for me like a bitch in heat,” he continues to degrade you but this is a punishment, you're not getting it the way you want it
ꕤ His pace is now oh so slow, far too slow for your liking but you feel the tip of his length drag against your walls and brushing against all the right spots and it made you lose your mind
ꕤ You were now stuck, folded in half between your lover and the mattress while he tortured you with slow thrusts, a mischievous grin painted on his face that screamed victory as degrading words fell from his lips
ꕤ You were a mess by the time he was done with you, far too overstimulated and every drag of his cock along your walls borderline painful
ꕤ "Who knew my baby can only cum when degraded into nothing but a hole for me to fuck," he chuckled before pulling out so you won't even get the satisfaction of being filled
ꕤ Toji came over your face just to degrade you some more “go clean yourself up. You're such a mess,” he ordered but waited for your return
ꕤ When you were back in his arms he hummed softly “did you learn your lesson now, angel?”
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Networks: @enchantedforest-network @themovingcastlez
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pierregazly · 3 days
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smile kisses ꨄ oscar piastri
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oscar piastri x reader
warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, a lil steamy towards the end [751 words]
request: if possible can you do a mix of 3 and 10 from the 🫶🏻 prompt list with oscar (if not, just 10 is fine 😽) [3. SMILING during a kiss & 10. "tell me what you want, baby." in the deepest, nearly inaudible murmur]
note: this was so cute!! the prompts??? i died 🤭 this is part of my 1.5k celebration! feel free to request away!!
There wasn’t much that could be said about the way Oscar spent his mornings. He was an early riser, always had been; his breakfast’s pre-planned and pre-made for him; a routine that hadn’t seen change in years.
Until you came into his life, of cour
Oscar had, more than once, affectionately commented about how you had blown up every routine and regime he followed. He would always finish off the joke with a soft kiss and the reaffirmation that he wouldn’t have it any other way.
Winter breaks for the Australian had especially changed. While before he could’ve been found back home, enjoying the summery, hot weather of his hometown; this time around he was found wrapped around you in bed, eyes following the streaks of rainwater that littered the window and gave view to the dreariness that often overtook London this time of year.
He wouldn’t change it for anything in the world, though. Lazy mornings in bed with you on a cold, dreary day was exactly the type of change he was alright with. Especially when your body moulded against his own so perfectly.
Tracing shapes on your bare shoulder, he placed kisses against the imaginary spots after the completion of each one. A smile gracing his lips with every press of them against your skin, as small giggles erupted from inside you at every action.
It was like heaven, hearing your reaction to his ministrations, to the way he professed his love for you. He wasn’t great with words, but he knew how to make you feel loved, how to make you feel wanted.
“Having fun, Osc?”
Murmuring a soft agreement, he continued the game of bringing bumps to your skin as shivers consumed your body. A soft smile continued to grace his face, difficult to keep at bay whenever he was around you.
Tapping at the hand that was placed delicately against your stomach, you gestured for him to let you turn around to face him. Which he begrudgingly did, a mock glare directed at you before a smile broke across his lips as he traced the shape of your face with his eyes, a hand gently cupping your cheek, rubbing a thumb across the skin.
“You’re so beautiful, you know that?”
Feeling your cheeks warm at his words, you pressed your head into the junction of his neck to stifle the giggle of adoration that was bubbling out of you. The beat of his pulse was so delicate against your lips as you pressed a loving kiss to it, a smile still stretched across your features.
“And just so adorable, really,” emphasizing his words, he pressed a finger into a known ticklish spot that instantly prompted you to flinch away from him.
You were easily overpowered by him, Oscar’s body hovering over yours as his fingers dug into your sides, loud squeals of laughter left your lips. It was hard to focus on anything as you tried to maneuver your body out from underneath him, but the large smile on his lips was infectious.
“Osc… oh my god, please. Enough! No more,” you begged, using all your weight to shove him off.
Relenting, the Australian held himself up with his now unoccupied hands, looking down at you as you caught your breath.
He couldn’t help the urge to press his lips down to yours, unable to keep the smile from his face. You couldn’t express in words how much he meant to you, but the feeling of the smile pressed against your lips was really all you needed to know how much he loved you. You couldn’t resist smiling back into the kiss, your fingers weaving into the locks of his hair, trying to show the love he was giving you, right back.
The passion in his kisses, in everything he did, was wondrous. It always felt like he was trying to form every thought, every feeling, every emotion, into the connection of your lips; especially through the never-ending smiles he always had for you.
Practically mewling into his mouth as he deepened the kiss, you felt him start to press his lower body against yours, a soft groan leaving his lips.
“Tell me what you want, baby,” he murmured, his voice deepening from the arousal coursing through his system.
You couldn’t help the small whimper that was let out as you looked up at him; eyes hooded and clear with his intention, lips plump, practically begging to be kissed more.
“You, Osc. Always want you.”
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AH this isn’t as long as i would’ve liked, but i just wanted it to be tooth-rotting fluff with a lil spice of an ending. i hope you all love it, and thank you to everyone that’s been requesting and celebrating with me 🫶🏻
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loveinhawkins · 22 hours
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When Steve gets to his last year at Hawkins High, it feels like some kind of veil has been lifted right in front him. Or maybe it’s more that the veil’s actually been slowly lifting for years, and he’s noticing it all the more because it’s no longer there.
Either way, when he receives his yearbook, it doesn’t seem like the huge deal that his younger self would’ve made it out to be; he flicks through the pictures half-heartedly, doesn’t even care when the candid ones taken at sporting events catch him in unflattering poses, lip jutting out in concentration.
If he tried to voice his disinterest, Henderson would probably spout off some precocious shit about societal expectations, and Steve would pretend to nod sagely before stealing whatever dorky hat he happened to be wearing—it’s not like he could let the little shit suspect that he occasionally had a point, Steve would never hear the end of it.
The yearbook signings are predictably inescapable: people passing their books back and forth in class or in the cafeteria—and that one’s a risky move, with the threat of drinks spilling on the pages, whether accidental or malicious.
Steve thinks the fever’s dwindled out until he spends a free period in the school library. The seniors typically all bunch together in one of the far corners, the spots with the comfiest seats—loners included, like the perks of age for once outweigh the usual ridicule.
But that silent truce is not exactly being upheld, Steve notes—Eddie Munson is sitting alone at a nearby table.
It becomes painfully obvious when the signing starts up again. There’s a cluster of girls on the yearbook committee who initiate it, and soon every senior in reach is either passing over their own book or signing one.
Almost every senior.
It’s not like Eddie’s the only person ever to be held back. He’s not even the only one to be held back for next year, either: John Nelson off the swim team is in the same position, and he’s still been asked to sign.
But Steve knows that’s not what the source of exclusion is, not really.
He’s gotten good at spotting silent cruelty—good at avoiding it too, before his popularity gave him a temporary shield.
It’s all just bullshit, he thinks. It’s been a recurring thought lately.
He brings out his own yearbook because he knows it’s expected. When it’s finally passed back round to him, he ends up right near the seat opposite Eddie’s, just by chance.
But actually sitting there is his own choice.
He can tell that Eddie has spotted him even though he’s not looked up from whatever homework he’s doing; there’s a silent tension in the way he’s holding his pen.
Steve mulls it over before he asks the question. It could blow up in his face, but what did that matter, really? In the grand scheme of things, it would hardly count as a major embarrassment; it’s not like it’d be any more mortifying than telling his dad that he didn’t get into any colleges whatsoever.
So he pushes his yearbook across the table, because what the hell.
“Wanna sign?”
Eddie glances up. There’s a guarded look in his eyes, and Steve can almost hear him mentally replaying the question.
“Pardon?” Eddie says with pointed emphasis, like he’s daring Steve, let it drop and we’ll say no more about it, Harrington.
Steve doesn’t take it back. He shrugs and flicks open the yearbook, finds a blank spot and taps it once with his finger, a silent offer.
Eddie stares like Steve’s a riddle, like he’s wondering just who the show’s for—but the other students have turned away, have gone back to their seats, yearbooks temporarily forgotten.
Eddie’s hold on his pen relaxes, ever so slightly.
“You sure, Harrington?” he says. There’s still a wary edge to his voice, but there’s an undercurrent of something else, too, like he’s secretly amused despite himself. “Haven’t you heard what folks say? I could curse you.”
Steve scoffs. “That all you’ve got? I’ve dealt with way worse, man,” he says mildly.
A corner of Eddie’s mouth twitches into a surprised smile. Then it’s gone almost like it had never been in the first place, his gaze turning thoughtful rather than defensive.
And obviously this isn’t Eddie’s first rodeo at the whole senior year thing. Steve wonders if there’s a veil that’s been lifted for him too, wonders if he can see straight through it right now.
The bell rings.
Eddie stands up, gathering his stuff.
Steve thinks that’s the end of it: something that’s neither a success or a failure.
But then, lightning fast, Eddie darts across the table and scribbles something on the open page. Slams the yearbook shut and pushes it back over, and it feels like a challenge, like some of his caginess is back—like he’s just daring Steve to reveal that it had been a joke all along—
“Bet you’re counting down the days till you can hold your own copy, huh?” Steve says dryly, as he stuffs the book into his bag.
It’s a risk; he knows Eddie could easily take it as pure ridicule, could misinterpret it as Steve throwing the failed school years back in his face.
Eddie just shakes his head, but he could be laughing—the moment’s gone too quickly for Steve to know for sure.
“Nah, Harrington,” Eddie says easily, thrown over his shoulder as he leaves, “those things aren’t worth the paper they’re printed on.”
Steve doesn’t check the yearbook until he’s home. He eventually finds Eddie’s signature, simple black ink right in the upper corner of one page.
Good luck, Steve. —Eddie
Some of the letters are bunched a little too close together, drifting upwards on the blank page, as if they usually need lined paper to guide them—left-handed, Steve thinks vaguely.
Within a sea of scrawled nicknames and loudly enthusiastic messages, Steve finds that he kind of likes how mundane Eddie’s truly is. Likes the sign off with minimal fuss. Just “Eddie.” Likes how he was just “Steve”, too.
And yeah, if anyone needed to be told good luck, Steve thinks, with the kind of amusement that only comes from distance—pictures his past self, freaking out about monsters come to life.
He slots the yearbook into his bookcase. By summer he might forget about it all together, left to gather dust as he works for 3 bucks an hour, but for now he marks its significance: something real, hidden alongside the bullshit.
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smusherina · 2 days
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yard work - chapter 12 (regina george x reader)
fandom: Mean Girls (all media)
pairing: Regina George x OFC/Reader
summary: You'd been in the same class as Regina George since kindergarten. You'd lived on the same street even longer. Once upon a time, when life was sandbox disputes and who got the swing first arguments, you'd even been friends. Now, in junior year of high school, you doubted she even remembered you. The same couldn't be said about you. You definitely remembered her. warning(s): a homophobic character saying some homophobic shit. listen, it's set in 2004 it was inevitable.
chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 4 / chapter 5 / chapter 6 / chapter 7 / chapter 8 / chapter 9 / chapter 10 / chapter 11 / chapter 13
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"So..." Gretchen drawled from the passenger seat. "You're still not doing the dance with us?"
Regina glanced at her. "No."
"Cady's taking the lead." The brunette said, very badly acting as if she wasn't looking for a reaction. Regina resisted the urge to bite back, to defend her honour, and kept her eyes on the road.
"Great." She said, voice tart. "She's doing the stunt, is she?"
"Yup." Gretchen's breath hitched. "She's, uh, got it nailed down."
A mean smirk spread her lips. "Oh, really? I'm looking forward to it."
Gretchen swallowed. Regina spied from the rearview mirror Karen was watching the scenery pass by dreamily.
"What's up, Karen?" Regina asked.
"The sky!" Karen stated proudly. "And birds, I suppose. Hold on..." She felt up her boobs, pulling at her nipple obscenely. "Ouch. Yeah, it's gonna start snowing soon."
Regina, knowing the forecast had promised much the same thing, hummed. "Gonna have to stay in, then."
Gretchen shifted her weight on the passenger seat. She seemed uneasy. Both she and Karen had been severely late to arrive at her car today and had seemed... Dodgy. Regina could hardly blame her, though. Things had gotten weird recently.
She wasn't being nice. Not exactly. She'd just, kind of, dialled it back a little. A year ago she'd have spent the days leading up to Christmas break making the rounds, spreading nasty rumours about this and that, ensuring everybody's holidays were ruined just the right amount. This time, she'd forgone that.
A part of it, a large majority, was due to the Thanksgiving fiasco with Jorts. Another, smaller part, was because she was tired. She just didn't want to.
Arriving at her house, Regina parked and stepped out of her car. Gretchen and Karen followed her inside where mom greeted them with mugs of hot chocolate. Fancy chocolate and skim milk. Regina pointedly left her mug on the tray.
As she was going up the stairs, she noticed neither Gretchen nor Karen had grabbed a mug.
"Take them." She gestured vaguely back to her mom. "Don't be wasteful, girls."
Making her way up leisurely, she relished in the sound of the two girls scrambling to grab their mugs and then follow her as fast as possible. She might've loosened her hold on the student body, but Gretchen and Karen she'd keep. She didn't care if it was immoral or something, she'd done a lot of work to get them where they were.
"Shane Oman's doing a Christmas party this Friday," Gretchen informed them as they settled around Regina's room. "There's talk he's specifically invited Doris Harris."
"Who the fuck names their kid Doris Harris?" Regina scoffed and inspected her nails. She'd have to get a new set soon. "Are you going?"
"What? You- you're not?" Gretchen sputtered.
"I have... Plans." Important, top-secret plans. "Shane Oman is a sleazebag and a womanizer. Doris can have him." She said airily and looked at the two girls sitting on her floor.
"What plans do you have?" Gretchen probed. Karen looked on, seeming to be in her own world. Little specks of snow were beginning to fall outside.
"Private." She left it at that. "Who are you bringing to the party?"
"Probably Jason." Gretchen sighed. Regina's face twisted.
"You're still with that douche?" She sat down cross-legged near the two. "Why?"
"Oh, do you think I should break up with him?" Gretchen looked between her and Karen, seeming lost. "I can do that."
Regina rolled her eyes. Okay, maybe she'd put a little too much work in these two. They were old enough to think for themselves.
"Look, Gretchen..." She closed her eyes. "I'm not gonna say sorry. I'm, uh, just not going to." She didn't tack on the yet that meant to crawl up her throat. Too much too fast. "However, it's becoming apparent that my usual methods are no longer as effective. Exhibit A, Cady Heron."
Gretchen stared at her. Then, her head tilted to the side like that of an inquisitive dog. Karen was gaping at her, having probably not comprehended a single word. Regina sighed.
"Look, I'm not gonna just waste my time and energy putting people down anymore!" She was feeling way too defensive and the others hadn't even said anything. "I might, like, join a sports team or something for senior year. Focus on myself."
"Wow." Gretchen breathed out. "So, you're just gonna step down?"
"I'm still Regina fucking George. I'm not gonna stop being me." That being a vicious bitch with a lot of hate in her heart. "I'm just saying that it's getting old."
"Why? You- you can't just stop. That makes no sense. Someone's gonna take you over, like- like Doris Harris!" Gretchen took several short breaths, this close to hyperventilating. "Doris Harris is going to be the new Regina George!"
She rolled her eyes so hard her entire head rolled with them. "That statement contradicts itself. If she's the new Regina George, I'm still on top. The original."
"You sound so alike." Karen smiled. "You two are so cute. True love."
"Karen!" Gretchen snapped, sounding like a chihuahua. "Shush!"
"Who sounds alike?" Intrigued, Regina leaned forward. "Me and who? True love?"
"Oh, uh..." Karen looked to Gretchen, who was trying (and failing) to subtly shake her head, and then to Regina whose eyes bored into hers. "Uhhhhhhh..."
"She's rebooting." Regina huffed, leaning back. "Gretch, I just... I don't care anymore."
It had been a startling realization. Not a quick one despite the one eureka moment that'd brought it all together. There were things more important to her than maintaining a hierarchy in high school. It still was important, to a degree, but well. If she had to pick between one-upping some random girl at a shitty party and date night with Jorts, the choice was entirely too obvious. It was going to be date night every time.
(If she even had that privilege anymore. She's called her slurs, for fuck's sake. She could only hope her apology would be good enough.)
"How can you not care?" Gretchen screeched. Karen sipped at her hot cocoa nervously.
"I just don't." Something like this, not caring about something, wasn't a decision she could consciously make. At least, not entirely. Once you stopped caring, you just did. That was that.
It wasn't easy, though. She didn't have the strength of will to be deliberately mean to everyone, every single day, but she would not tolerate people stepping on her toes. If somebody encroached, she wouldn't hesitate to bring them down. Where the line went, distinguishing between a serious threat and a general nuisance, was the hard part.
Letting go of the instinct to just be mean was a challenging hurdle.
"She's changed you. All this time, you've been talking to her, haven't you? J, Jorts, whoever she is. She's corrupted you." Gretchen sneered. "What happened, Regina? Or should I say, Reggie?"
Regina looked at her friend, minion, accomplice- whatever.
"Excuse me?" She said, so quietly it could've been mistaken for a whisper.
"You heard me." Gretchen's sneer dissolved, old instinct to cower kicking in. "Reggie." She hissed, a feeble attempt at keeping her power.
"What the fuck do you know about J?" Regina could feel herself grow cold, anger mixing with panic, mixing with visceral, palpable terror.
Of course, all that manifested as blind fury.
"We know plenty about J. You've never shut up about her. Y'know, I used to think she was an ex-boyfriend of yours 'cause of the way you talked about her. And now, it all makes sense." Gretchen spread her arms provocatively. "Because she's gotten into your head, used her sticky, lesbo fingers to mix you up. Snap out of it, Regina. This is not who you are."
Anger roiling in her stomach, she was about to release pure acid onto the dimwitted, insensitive, stupid girl, when Karen spoke up.
"Gretchen, you're being stupid." She said so lightly. Both of them turned to look at Karen. She was watching the window, looking immensely pleased with herself. Yet another correct weather report.
"What?" Gretchen breathed out.
"Stupid. That's stupid. I didn't know you were, like, homophobic." Seeming to focus, Karen turned to face Gretchen. "I think I told you my brother's gay."
"Oh." Gretchen deflated. Regina didn't know what she should do. "Well, that's different, he's a guy! Lesbians are totally different."
"How?" Karen, more engaged than Regina had witnessed her be in a long time, kept her eerily wide eyes trained on Gretchen. "How is it any different?"
"Listen, everybody can do what they want with... Whoever, like, consents, but it's different when they shove their beliefs in people's faces." Regina, quite astounded, didn't know what to say. Karen did, though.
"J didn't shove anything in our faces. I don't think she shoved anything in Regina's face." She put her finger to her chin. "Unless they're into that sort of thing."
"Karen..." Regina sighed.
"Anyway, I think your opinions about gay people are weird, Gretchen. You should look into that."
"My opinions are just fine!" Gretchen's shoulders rose all the way up to her ears. "You guys are the weird ones! It's not like I hate gay people! There's just, y'know, healthy concern. If it was so easy to turn Regina then what can they do to impressionable little kids?" Gretchen licked her lips nervously. "What about Kylie?" She asked, looking to Regina for sympathy or agreement or something.
By that point, Regina had checked out.
"I don't think Regina's changed. Not really." Karen's owl eyes turned to her. "She's just... Shedding. Like a snake. Getting a new skin." She dragged her eyes up and down. "Yeah. New, shiny scales. Like a blonde, human green tree python. My dad has one. A snake one."
"Thanks," Regina said, tone flat. She then turned to Gretchen. "Get out."
Her hands trembled. Rage or fear, she couldn't tell where the tremor stemmed from.
"Regina, this isn't right-"
Just the sound of her voice made her blood boil. Her eyes stung too, but she refused to feel anything but anger.
"What isn't right is that you're still in my house. J is my childhood friend and the assumptions you've made about her are life-threatening. People are killed because they're gay, Gretchen. She hasn't turned me into anything, much less something you're insinuating." The claim that Jorts had turned her into a lesbian was false. If there were to be a claim about Regina's sexuality alone, then the answer wouldn't be so clear. "Get your fucking act together. I'm too good to bother with high school politics. We're going to college in two years. Stop being so small-minded and do something with your life for once."
She heaved in lungfuls of air. She stood up abruptly, walked to the door and pointed down the hallway.
"I-" Gretchen tried to say something, but Regina just reiterated her point.
"Out!"
She didn't particularly care that her friend (ex-friend) didn't have a ride home. She didn't care that she was a bigot, that Gretchen was right about her and Karen being the weird ones. She didn't care that Jorts had definitely changed her in some way.
As soon as the brunette had scuttled down the stairs, the front door slamming on her way out, Regina slumped against her door. She didn't care. She did not care.
"So, is it just us, now?" Karen asked from her spot on the floor. Regina was pretty sure she hadn't moved an inch since she plopped down. "Is J gonna be our new friend?"
"I don't know, Karen." She buried her face in her hands. Fuck. She wasn't supposed to care. "I didn't know Gretchen was like that."
"Hmm." Karen hummed. "I didn't know you weren't like that."
Her head snapped up, looking at Karen. Her expression was unreadable, like a book with blank pages.
"I... I'm scared, Karen."
"Yeah. My brother's boyfriend is from Alabama and he's been beat up before 'cause he looks gay. And he is gay, but the earring gave it away, I think. And my uncle died of AIDS and my family don't really talk about him and we weren't allowed to see him. My aunt that's in New York's been living with her best friend of, like, thirty years for forever and I went to visit one time and they had only one bedroom."
That was perhaps the longest, most coherent sentence Karen had ever said. Too bad the subject was so grim.
"Wow, Karen. Sounds like your family's full of..." What could she call them? Her mind defaulted to nasty slurs. "People like that."
"I guess." She smiled faintly. "I hear them crying sometimes, in my brother's room, when they're home for the holidays. Mama says I shouldn't go up and snuggle them until they feel better. They're having a moment." Karen looked confused at that. "Are we having a moment?"
Regina slowly unfurled from her slump against the door. "Maybe."
"Oh. Okay." She accepted easily. The familiarity of the scenario had a smile creeping back to Regina. "My brother smiles the biggest when me and his boyfriend team up against him at board games. My mom cries when we visit my uncle's grave. She tells us stories about him and shows us pictures. My aunt has three cats with her bestie and they call them their children and they wear matching rings."
"That's really sweet, Karen." Regina, now smiling in earnest, shuffled closer.
"I don't really get it." She said in the same light tone she'd use when talking about schoolwork. "Like, my brother's boyfriend is really nice so I don't get why people beat him up for dating my brother. And I think it was really mean that my grandma didn't let mama see her brother when he was sick. And my aunt and her best friend already live together, have cat-kids, and kiss on the mouth, so why can't they get married for real?"
Regina stared ahead, more than a little floored. Gretchen, simultaneously surprisingly and unsurprisingly, was a homophobe. Regina knew the political climate and knew that being openly gay was social suicide, and sometimes literal suicide, but she hadn't expected someone so close to her to be like that. They hadn't talked about it much, to be fair. Besides, Regina wasn't much better. While she might've not been a real homophobe, as in actually subscribed to the ideology, she'd done plenty of homophobic acts.
Whether or not in the name of projection or denial didn't really matter. Janis 'Imi'ike had been the first girl she'd subjected to hate crimes and discrimination, but not the last. How many times had she shoved other girls under the bus so she could get off scot-free? How many times had she done it for a twisted sense of fun?
Too many, was the easy answer. Not enough, whispered the scared, hidden thing in the back rooms of her mind.
And Karen was an ally. A supporter of the cause. And unexpectedly well-spoken when she had something she liked to talk about.
"Karen, I like girls."
"Me too!"
Regina's heart beat like a drum. She was beginning to sweat.
"No- I mean, like, I'm... A lesbian. I guess."
"Okay!"
She snuck a glance at the other girl. She was peering mournfully into her empty mug.
"Like your aunt and her best friend." She took a deep breath. "I like girls in that way."
"Uhh, duh," Karen smiled at her, beamed, really. "J is your true love."
"I wouldn't go that far." Regina sighed but had to purse her lips to keep from smiling. At the same time, a knot tightened in her chest, like hiccups trying to escape. She threw her head back and puffed out a breath, blinking rapidly.
"Let's go get more hot chocolate and I'll tell you about my talent show performance." She wiped discreetly at her eyes and extended a hand to Karen.
"Hot cocoa!" The girl exclaimed as she pulled herself up with Regina's help. "Ouuuhh, what kinda performance?"
"A song." Regina guided them down the hallway. "For her."
Obviously, she had more than just a song planned. A proper apology, for one, was in the works. Karen didn't need to know about that, though. That was between her and J.
Notes: Boo I lied it's not the last one. I thought it would be! I was wrong! I did start rambling like I kind of predicted in the notes of the last chapter. Or, like, I felt the ending would be a little too abrupt without some downtime. So have some Regina POV!
Will no longer be making predictions about when the end is. I'll only be contradicting myself lol. But like, the arc is coming to a close, a natural end is coming. And then the epilogue things.
Praying to god the taglist will work. Trying a new method today, fingers crossed! Hand-typing every single fucking name, no commas in between names, the utmost technicalities. This is the night fellas, the night we've been waiting for.
Edit: it didn't work. in fact, it worked worse than the other times! fuck! put another version of the list, back with commas, and it seems to tag some people but not all. gonna have to do some scouring on the internets.
Taglist: @autorasexy, @wedfan2, @unadulterated-moron, @modernsapphicism , @9unknown0 , @sage-rose2000 , @massive-honkas , @nattys-swiftie , @likefirenrain , @luz-enjoyer , @dandelions4us , @natashamaximoff-69 , @alexkolax , @jareaul0ver , @here4theqts , @charleeeesworld , @natsbiggestfan1 , @brocoliisscared , @yellowwallflowers , @scarlettbitchx , @ayoungexwife , @cyberbonesworld , @syddie-reads , @screechcat , @theenglishswiftie , @gabby-duhh , @sweetmissnothing , @masterofpuppets-10 , @l1lass , @starved-mortal , @nothanksbye07 , @nenas19 , @jvuyii , @starry-night17 , @reneeswife24 , @glorioushamsterqueen , @krononan , @slug-on-bike , @rayisaknight , @chaseatlanticlover91 , @reginassweetheart , @mirage018
(if you want to be added to the taglist, comment so on this post! beware it seldom works. i try my best.)
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imfinereallyy · 1 day
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I wonder if you look both ways (When you cross my mind) pt. 2
pt. 1
🐝・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・✦ʚɞ
June 1996, Chicago
Steve doesn’t exactly know when Eddie Munson became one of his best friends, let alone when he fell in love with him.
He supposes both things occurred between the end of the world, and Eddie’s back walking out the door for the last time, unbeknownst to anyone. Though, that is five years of time, who’s to say when it really happened.
Dustin will argue the friend part. He likes to think it was he who brought them together (it certainly wasn’t; in fact, it put a real bump in the road for them). Dustin also thinks, which Steve is more inclined to think is true, that the two of them had become friends during Eddie’s slow recovery and Steve’s guilt complex, which made him feel responsible for him.
Which—ouch, Dustin—but years of therapy would prove him right.
Little shit.
Dustin doesn't know about the love part, though, and Steve doesn’t think much of the party knows except for one or two of the perceptive ones.
Looking at you, Lucas.
Robin likes to argue that Steve doesn’t know when he fell in love with Eddie because Eddie was different from everyone else.
Steve puts everything into love, moves fast, falls hard, and ultimately gets crushed by his own passion. Steve doesn’t know how to take things slow or wait around for the right person.
Until he did, with Eddie.
Steve managed to have a slow decent into the madness of loving a man like Eddie Munson. And he never did anything about it, although he didn't mind. Steve was okay with just being friends and loving from afar.
Until they weren't even that, and Eddie was gone.
Steve can't think about that now, instead he should probably worry about the man himself breaking into his apartment at 3 a.m.
"Get. Out." Robin hisses, breaking Steve from his thoughts.
Suddenly, Eddie stands. His hands thrust forward in a placating nature, and nervous energy radiates off of him. "Robin, please—"
"No, Munson. You don't get to disappear from our lives for five years, and then break into our apartment!" Robin whisper shouts, the metal bat waving around in her grip.
Steve still hasn't said anything, still unsure of any of it is really happening. But he can't help but warm at Robin's fierceness.
She will go down swinging for Steve, even against someone she cares about.
Fuck, he loved her.
"Give me one good reason not to bash your skull in with this thing, Munson. I dare you!" Robin took the metal bat and pushed it into Eddie's chest.
Steve gets a good look at him as he stumbles backward. He doesn't look much different—well that's a lie. He does look different; more tattoos, more piercings and Steve is pretty surprised to catch him wearing anything other than a band tee. It is just so all quintessentially Eddie. The jewelry is all silver, any tattoo he got after 1986 appears to be in black and red ink only. Even his tee is still black despite the lack of a band on the front.
"Birdie, I don't think you should have Steve's bat in your hands, you're a bit dangerous." Eddie tries to grab the bat from her hands but Robin yanks it back.
"Oh, fuck you, Munson! You don't get to call me Birdie, and this is my bat. Steve's is wooden and full of nails and underneath his bed. You should know that, or has the last five years really rotted your brain?" Robin is now waving the bat around with gusto, nearly missing Steve's head at one point.
Trying to shake himself from his frozen state, Steve decides it is probably in everyone's best interest if he steps in.
"Robs." Steve speaks gently, hand on the bat as he slowly lowers it down. Her shoulders drop, the fight draining out of her in seconds. "It's okay."
It's not okay. Steve doesn't understand what's happening right now. But Steve is okay as long as he has Robin, and Robin has him. Steve hopes she understands that's what he meant.
Robin nods her head, and shuffles closer to him.
Steve takes a shaky breath, "What are you doing here, Munson?"
Eddie cringes at the use of his last name but doesn't comment. "Listen, I know it's weird me just stopping by suddenly—"
Robin snorts, "I wouldn't exactly call breaking in 'stopping by'."
Eddie shakes his head, ignoring her. Stray curls start to fall loose from their bun. "I just want to talk, for you guys to hear me out."
Steve rubs a hand down his face, he is getting too old for this stuff. Being blindsided, being surprised—being thrown sideways and upside down. Sure, twenty-nine isn't exactly old, but Steve has lived practically six different lifetimes by now. There is so much damage to him—physically and emotionally. He is supposed to be past nonsense like this.
Robin takes his silence as permission to snip at Eddie, "No. Go away, Eddie. You don't get to do that. Get out."
Eddie moves a step forward, he is now illuminated completely by the side table's light. He looks tired—good but tired. It's not the kind of tired you see of someone in distress, not the ache that comes along in the tunnel that has no light in the end. No, Eddie looks tired in the way that comes with healing. Like working hard exhaustion. As if coming home from a long but good day at work, and the night grows weary.
Eddie opens his mouth to argue, but Steve cuts him off. "It's fine, Robbie. It's late; let him crash on the couch."
Eddie's shoulders sag in relief, "Thanks, Stevie, we can talk—"
"No." Steve chokes out, moving his hand towards his throat so he can remember to breathe. "You don't get to call me that. And we're not talking about anything. You'll sleep here, but that's it. I might not want you here, but it doesn't mean I'm going to let you wander the streets at night."
"Steve, please—" Eddie reaches out his hands to touch Steve. It is most likely going to be a gentle touch, but Steve can't help the way he violently flinches.
Eddie looks taken aback, eyes wide and full of sadness. He pulls his hands back.
"No, Eddie." Steve grabs Robin's hand and starts to pull her to bed. She doesn't protest and instead leans into his touch. Steve turns over his shoulder to look at Eddie again. "You'll stay the night. It's not an option. But my morning? I want you gone. I don't want you to be the first thing I see after sunrise."
Steve turns quickly back around, ignoring the pained grunt from behind him.
Bypassing Robin's bedroom, Steve pulls them both into his. Robin doesn't question it and instead makes herself comfortable in his forest green blankets.
Steve quickly follows after, snuggling into the bed beside her. People have thought them weird over the years—always in each other's spaces and knowing every little thing about each other. Partners, friends, family—all of them had something to say about it, never even bothering to understand.
Well, except Eddie. Eddie appreciated it, accepted it. Adored it at times.
"Are you really okay with this, Dingus?" Robin whispers softly between them.
"No." Steve never lies to Robin; she'll know. "Not at all, but I'm not going to let him wander the streets, no matter what I loved him at some point. I don't let the people I loved, get hurt."
Robin squints in pity, "Loved?"
"Not now, Bobbie," Steve whispers.
Robin nods, "Besides, I'm pretty sure 'Ed Sloane' can afford a fucking hotel room."
Steve lets out a loud snort, it echoes throughout the room. "God, don't remind me. What a stupid fucking name."
The two of them dissolve into giggles, bumping their heads together. Under the covers, they clasp their hands together tight. "I just don't want you to derail your life, for someone who walked so easily out of it. I know you have that important lunch with Drew tomorrow."
Steve takes a breathe through his nose, "Yea, I do. But it'll be fine. He'll be gone before I'm even up. You know Eds, he's a runner. Wouldn't stop trying to prove it, in fact."
Robin's face is scrunched in pain, and her eyes pool with pity. It's as if she knows something Steve doesn't or sees something he chooses to ignore. She doesn't comment on it, though. Instead, she raises an eyebrow, "Eds?"
It isn't snippy or accusing. Her voice is soft against his cheek. Steve doesn't have the mental capacity to argue though. "G'night, Birdie."
"Goodnight, Stevie." She whispers.
Steve closes his eyes, knowing it will all feel like a dream tomorrow.
Steve is familiar with having dreams with Eddie in them.
🐝・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・✦ʚɞ
more to come i promise, especially after your (loving demands). especially my mutuals who yelled at me in the tags and my dm's (it made my day).Part 3 is currently being typed up. Also might fuck around and make this a full-blown ao3 one shot; who knows.
tag list!:
@stevesbipanic @withacapitalp @emryyyyy09 @brainfugk @blueberrylemontea-fanfic
@slv-333 @thetinymm @connected-dots-st-reblogger @helpimstuckposting @dreamercec
@goodolefashionedloverboi @stripey82 @little2nerdy @anne-bennett-cosplayer @resident-gay-bitch
@ghostquer @sourw0lfs @devondespresso
(please let me know if you don't want a tag, I had to guess by the comments, and sorry if you’re getting a random tag after posting, I had to fix the tag list cause tumblr is weird)
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taasgirl · 1 day
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lover - oscar piastri
summary: y/n is a songwriter who writes plenty of songs however no one realizes that they're made by her (and about oscar hehe)!
a/n: the outcomes of the races are fictional, and the order in which these songs have been written (assume fearless was written this year ygwim?). also no face claim!!
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liked by yukitsunoda, oscarpiastri, and 33, 287 others ynusername romance is not dead if you keep it just yours! lovelovelove being able to come home for race day!! i'm so proud of u osc 🩷
oscarpiastri I'm so lucky 🥰 liked by ynusername
user27633 Y/N IS A SWIFTIE CONFIRMED!?!?!
ynusername of course!!
user16372 u literally take the cutest photos of oscar
user82537 y/n quoting paris... i'm so up
yukitsunoda 😆😆
landonorris You're my favourite wag
ynusername wow how considerate
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liked by taylorswift, landonorris, and 1, 287, 387 others oscarpiastri Unwinding before Japan 👊
ynusername tehee we're cute
oscarpiastri You're cuter landonorris Get a room
taylorswift ooooh she's working hard @ ynusername
user62584 WHAT THE FUCK ARE U DOING HERE???
user98274 OSCAR IS FRIENDS WITH TAYLOR HUH
user61192 i did not expect to see taylor in the comments of oscar's post tagging y/n!
user92898 no fr like what is going on
user93829 Everyone shut up about taylor look at the beauty that is y/n omd
view ynusername's story...
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liked by jackantonoff, phoebebridgers, and 55, 918, 278 others taylorswift In honour of my album 'The Tortured Poets Department' release a week ago, I wanted to thank my biggest musical inspirations! Thank you Jack, Lana, and Y/N for helping me the best artist I could possibly be, without you'd guys I'd be nowhere (thank you y/n for writing the cheesiest, cutest, sexiest songs ever)!!
user51862 who is y/n
user01827 She's dating f1 driver oscar piastri but also now apparently a songwriter idk...
user72973 Wdym thanks y/n for writing?? you're telling me the twitter stans were right??
user62863 y/n is singlehandedly uniting f1 and the swifties
ynusername thank u tay 💓💓
user52868 Girl has been living a double life
user51929 ohhh so this is why taylor was commenting on oscar's post😭
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liked by oscarpiastri, taylorswift, and 108, 276 others ynusername well now that the cat is out of the bag, who wants to hear a story? i assume u all said yes.
on one of our first dates, oscar made me a bracelet (yes that one) and i thought (and still think) that it was one of the most romantic gestures. so obviouslyyy i wrote 'lover' about him hehe. yes we only knew each other for at most three months when i wrote it, but i love him so much, he's my forever.
oscarpiastri I love having a singer for a girlfriend (wife one day)
ynusername hello cat boy
user18739 You're telling me that taylor's most romantic song is literally written by my favourite wag about my favourite driver?? i might pass out
ynusername haha yes! i write a lot of songs for tay
landonorris So this song is basically about ur delusions liked by ynusername
user52863 oh now i need to know exactly what songs you've written
user20939 AND PLEASE RECORD COVERS OF THEM TOO
lilymhe wait so you've been friends with taylor the whole time...
lilymhe AND THE SONG THAT I WANT PLAYED AT MY WEDDING IS WRITTEN ABOUT OSCAR?? ynusername oh my god lily HAHA
let me know if you liked this!! i know it's super short but i'm seriously lacking inspo and ideas omd. also i literally love oscar so much.
i'm also working on a few reqs, so if you have a suggestion or request, let me know because i'd love to do it!!
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melbatron5000 · 2 days
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The Big Damn Kiss
Buckle up, my fellow Good Omens Ineffable Mystery Puzzlers, Crackpotters, and Assorted Brainrotters, because I learned something HUGE yesterday.
This will be a bit of a long post, because I want to show you exactly how I got where I am. I want you to understand. I want to put all the naysayers to bed (ha! But I'm still gonna try), and settle this once and for all.
I know (almost) exactly what Crowley gave to Aziraphale during the kiss.
DO NOT TAKE ANY OF MY THEORIES TO NEIL! PLEASE!
Okay? Okay. Thanks. Shall we begin?
Ahem.
Firstly, whether you believe me or not, I am 100% certain that Crowley did, indeed, give something to Aziraphale in his mouth during The Kiss. I've covered that in the link previous. Okay? Okay.
I did not know what it was. I've now heard theories that it was a bullet (nope), a ball bearing (nope), hellfire (nope), and no one, NO ONE has suggested what I see. (If you have, hello! Talk to me!)
Here's our first foreshadowing Clue:
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And here's our next foreshadowing Clue:
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And the next:
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And our last Clue:
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With me so far? Well, that first GIF is a bit off, I couldn't find one of Crowley actually spitting out the flies. But he does. When Beelzebub first drags him to Hell, he actually goes "Pleaugh!" and spits out four or five flies.
Moving right along, we come to Crowley in Heaven with Muriel, looking at the trial. We learn two important things here:
One, Gabriel doesn't have a desk.
Two, Muriel does. Where they keep the records. And it's a bit lonely. Every few hundred years, someone comes and asks for something. Muriel can't access the sensitive ones, you have to be pretty high up. A throne, dominion, or higher. Like, maybe Supreme Archangel?
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So if Gabriel doesn't have a desk, whose desk is he at when he's getting ready to leave Heaven? Of course I can't find a damn picture of Gabriel at the desk, but it's Muriel's. Where they keep the RECORDS.
Gabriel puts his memory into the fly, then gets on the elevator to go to Earth.
Now, when Gabriel opens the fly with his memories inside, we find out that it's a container. Bigger on the inside. You can put thing(S) in it. The bit we see of him remembering is shot in two parts, one where he's flying down a red tunnel, one where he's flying down a blue. If you slow this scene down and watch, you can see that he is NOT looking at just his own memories. There is more going on here, more that he was not present for. @embracing-the-ineffable put up a great meta about that here. Go look!
Now I figured Gabriel must have taken something else. Something important. Something useful. Something he meant to give to Aziraphale, except he forgot.
I also figured he must have left whatever it was in the fly when he took his memories out. Crowley must have realized while watching the trial footage that Gabriel also grabbed something else. I don't know when Crowley grabs the fly, but he does. And that is what he gives to Aziraphale in the kiss. Why? Well.
I had no idea what Gabriel took until I started working on the chiastic structure of season 2. I'm not done with that analysis yet, but let me show you one thing that I have found so far:
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(The numbers are just to try and help me navigate the story and its events without time stamps)
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My note #357 of what happens isn't quite right, but when I saw the only two times Aziraphale says "I forgive you" are towards the beginning of Season 2 and towards the end, I realized I had something.
Rephrase line 357: Crowley's kiss is forgiven IN EXCHANGE FOR RECORDS.
(Not that I think Crowley's kiss needs to be forgiven. It's just what Aziraphale says, and had to say at that moment, because the Metatron was listening in.)
What does Heaven in Good Omens remind us of most of all?
A big corporate entity. And what do powerful people do when they get fired from a big corporate entity? They download all their emails while they're cleaning out their desks. Damning emails. Emails that can be used to black mail or even destroy big corporate entities. Or, ya know, maybe they swipe some sensitive RECORDS?
Oh yes.
Records that Gabriel meant to give to Aziraphale, but he forgot. Records that Crowley realized Gabriel had put in the fly. The fly that Crowley grabbed once Gabriel had his memory out. The fly that he gave to Aziraphale when he kissed him. The fly that no longer held Gabriel's memory, but did still contain those damning records.
Here's Aziraphale reading the records:
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Here's Aziraphale being horrified and outraged by what he's reading:
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And here's Aziraphale realizing he has got some GOOD DIRT on Heaven. Maybe enough to bring them down:
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That's it folks. I have no idea what the records actually say, and maybe we're not meant to know until season 3, but whatever it is, it's GOOD.
That's my story, and by God Herself, I'm sticking to it.
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molinaesque · 16 hours
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By killing her mum in a mercy kill, she's doing exactly what the Ghoul did to Roger. She's learnt from him. She has turned into him. When she said, "I'll never be you," maybe that's not true. And in that moment, when she shoots her mum, it means so many things. It means 'I'm coming with you.' It means. 'I f*cking hate you, but I have turned into you, you were right.' It means she's letting go of her golden centre. I want the audience at the end of the show to wonder if their hero is still a good person. I don't know who she's gonna be in season two, but this is what happens when you break the unbreakable. I don't know who she's about to become. [...] I'd be down to play it either way. - Ella Purnell (x)
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qu1cks1lversb1tch · 3 days
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Having them as best friend's:
Multiple X Reader
Contains: Alastor, Angel Dust, Husk, Charlie, Lucifer, Vox, Velvette, Rosie, Adam, Lute, and Valentino
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ALASTOR
You're gonna have to hear me out with this one: he's down for the gossip 24/7!!!
He will listen and talk shit with you 100% and I'm not arguing on the matter.
Someone says some wack ass shit to you in public? "I beg your fucking pardon?" With like the scariest grin that fucker can muster.
You start talking to someone? He interrogates them! If they're not strong enough to survive one little interrogation with THE Radio Demon, they're not good enough to date you. Sorry not sorry.
The friendship would be violent, but in almost a sibling type relationship. If he said something absolutely out of line, you'd smack him or kick him in the back of his knees. He'd always get payback, whether it was immediately or a few days/weeks later.
You called him a 'radio faced cunt' once in front of everyone and they all mentally started planning your funeral.
Until he clapped back with something equally as interesting.
He only accepted affection from you and Rosie. And Charlie that one time.
If you had a bad day, he'd know immediately by the look on your face and wouldn't let anyone talk to you until he knew exactly what had made one of his two favorite people upset.
He'd kill them if you told him to. Just supportive bestie shit!
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Angel Dust
Let's be real, if you're best friends with Angel, you're probably equally as close with Cherri.
But just you and Angel Dust as best friend's? Shit, he's awesome.
Had a bad day? Go to his room and cuddle Fat Nuggets while you cry/rant about the days woes.
Spontaneous sleepovers BECAUSE YOU CAN!
Platonically flirting to the point that everyone thinks you're together. Neither of you deny the claims, just to keep everyone on their toes.
The words 'love you' followed by something like 'slut' or 'bitch' are common occurrences.
When it comes to dating, Angel just wants you to be happy.
But if someone breaks your heart? He'll come out with guns blazing with no hesitation. NO ONE hurts his bestie.
Platonic cuddles because you love his floof.
Would probably form some sort of marriage pact with you for fun one night when you're both wasted. "Yeah, I'd marry you if we're both still single in 100 years, Toots."
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Husk
The banter would be unmatched. You call him a furry and he'll clap back with something that makes your jaw drop before you burst out into laughter.
He'd tell you how it is, regardless of whether you asked or not.
Sure, you're his best friend, and he cares about you. . . But it's because he cares about you that he won't sugarcoat something, even if it's not something you wanna hear.
He would listen to your problems, like any good friend.
He wouldn't trust anyone you had romantic interest in, especially since the ones you always went for had some serious issues.
He'd say something like: "Don't cry to me when that bastard breaks your heart."
And you wouldn't cry to him when it happened, but he'd make you a drink and silently take care of the problem once he had one of the other hotel residents hoist you up to your room.
The next morning you'd tell him he was right and he'd smirk as he wiped down the bar, but wouldn't say anything.
He was never good with affection, so he respects your space and you respect his.
He literally always has your back, even if you don't know it. You do.
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Charlie
Honestly, you probably grew up together and that's how the two of you became best friends. (But even if you didn't, everything is still the same.)
She's the friend that's too trusting of everyone, so you easily filled the place of being the friend that questioned everyone's intentions.
You even heavily questioned Vaggie's intentions when Charlie insisted on bringing her around after finding her.
You only warmed up to Vaggie when Charlie admitted her feeling for her, to you one late evening. She was a nervous wreck, but you were always the level-headed friend.
Being best friends with the princess of Hell had some lesser known perks — invitations to high class parties, special access at LuLu World, and the most eventful sleepovers known to Hell.
Whenever you mentioned interest in someone, Charlie was the first to push you to go for it.
If it went wrong, she was always there first, telling you it would be completely fine. If it went good, she was the first to congratulate you.
She's 100% the mom friend. Thirsty? Here's something to drink. Cut your finger? "Here's a bandaid, be more careful."
A relationship similar to siblings, bit without any malice or envy. Just happy to be in each other's presence.
She literally documented everything the two of you did, since the very first time you called her your friend. She's not going anywhere.
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Lucifer
Yeah, so, everyone thinks you're dating. Even Charlie is a bit suspicious. You're not, but you had been there by his side for as long as he could remember.
When Lilith left, you filled some part of the void, not allowing Lucifer to go hungry when he spent long days in his office.
On his good days, he's absolutely there for all the tea, especially if it's PIPING HOT. "That bitch said WHAT!?"
He has no filter and will unintentionally intentionally hurt someone's feelings when it comes to you.
He protects you as fiercely as he protects Charlie, despite knowing that you're capable of protecting yourself.
The two of you argue like an old married couple, which only fueled the dating rumors. . . Until you mentioned someone you had interest in.
Bro interrogated everyone you ever liked. Can't handle five minutes with the king of Hell? Not good enough for his bestie. Keep it movin' pal.
No one is allowed to call you a bitch, but him. Anyone else tries, they'll be met with absolute SASS.
Not even joking, Lucifer would be so sassy towards people, to the point that you picked it up.
So the two of you just went around unintentionally terrorizing demons!
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Vox
You hate someone? Bet. He'll have someone spy on them and give you the real tea.
Brings you as the plus one for many major events, but bullies you the entire time. You thought you'd get five minutes of peace on your best friends arm? WRONG!
Literally throws toddler meltdown style temper tantrums when it comes to Alastor. You're usually the one who has to reboot him or just smack some sense into him.
You're both pretty level-headed most of the time, but one of you probably has a couple of screws loose. (It's definitely him.)
No one is good enough to date you. Not sorry.
If anyone looks at you wrong, they've signed their second death to double Hell.
You and Vox talk shit about everyone, especially if you've had a hard day.
If it was bad enough, he'd offer to kill the demon who dared make your day shit. He'd still listen to you though.
"Fuck that. You're not going alone." And then you have to wait 15 minutes for him to look 'good enough' to go out, even if you were powerful and just wanted to go on little walk down the street.
Body doubling. Different tasks, silence, but the comfort of having someone else in the room. Absolutely.
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Velvette
She likes you slightly more than Vox and Valentino, which is fabulous.
Weekly designated sleepover nights where the both of you unload from the week.
Someone is rude to you? Cue Vel lecturing them on how they fucked up and their career is over, but make it musical.
You went on a date with someone and didn't tell her? "I want details, Lovey! Are they an overlord too? Tell. Me. Everything."
Prepare for Hell's greatest gossip sessions, especially around the topic of Hell's cutthroat fashion industry.
She might not seem like it, but she's a good listener.
You're leaving the tower to run a small errand? Surprise Surprise, she's coming with you and turning it into a whole day, complete with lunch and shopping!
She uses you as a model sometimes, purely because she can.
Will call you a sweet name and insult you in the same breath.
Gets worried if you don't text back within five minutes. She will literally show up to make sure you're alive. You're probably taking a nap.
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Rosie
Literally the best to spend the day with. She loves walking with you or just having tea.
Much like Alastor, she would be down for the gossip, but she wouldn't go very far with it.
In terms of relationships, she'd want you to be happy, but would also threaten to eat your partner if they hurt you.
She'd be such a good listener when you came to talk about your day.
She'd even offer advice and just casually drop something like: "Listen to your intuition, darling. It'll tell you others intentions."
At some point or another, everyone questions whether you're dating or not, which both of you laugh at frequently.
She enjoys her privacy, but she also would love having you around more than others.
She would love giving platonic affection, just to make you feel loved.
Sometimes Alastor pops up and Rosie gushes about how the two of you would get along — and immediately you're just thinking how this trio would be iconic.
She doesn't care about your past, you don't care that she's a Cannibal. . . Well, she cares, but she would NEVER hold it against you!
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Adam
He literally goes out of his way to piss you off.
There's a lot of threatening and him calling you stuff like 'Sugar Tits'.
Adam annoys you to the point of you WANTING to just jump to Hell, but you never do, because he's your best friend, and you wouldn't want to emotionally traumatize him by making him think that he lost his best friend to Lucifer, AFTER losing his wives to him.
He says "Suck my dick, Bitch" AT LEAST A DOZEN TIMES A DAY. It irritates you to no end.
The banter is unmatched. He wants to get sassy? You're the SASS MASTER.
You pushed him down the stairs for fun and he didn't talk to you for two days.
He doesn't give a fuck who you date, but if they hurt you, he's taking care of them and not telling you SHIT to avoid all of that mushy feelings crap.
The two of you argue too much for anyone to think you're together.
There's NEVER a moment of silence when you're out. He's always singing, talking, laughing, or mimicking the sound of some instrument.
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Lute
She's annoyed 24/7 and you're one of the two main causes.
But she wouldn't replace you because who else would put up with her attitude and listen to her rants like you?
If you had a hard day, she'd probably make some offhand comment and then subtly try to make it better by like getting you ice cream with rainbow sprinkles or something.
She hates physical touch, so the only time she touches you is to smack you, probably for saying something very Adam-ish. "Say that shit again and it'll be worse."
She hates everyone you have romantic interest in, but let's you learn your own lessons the hard way.
Nobody could ever picture the two of you as friends, let alone dating.
She's like the sister that has it all but claims she's the black sheep of the family.
Her job comes before everything else in her life, that including you, but when she has time for you, there's usually food and shit talking involved.
She makes sure you drink water every day. She'd kick your ass if you passed out because of dehydration.
She'd give you the key to her place, but you'd never use it unless she told you to. (Like in the event she forgot her set or something)
(I've reached the 10 media limit, so just imagine a gif right here)
Valentino
He offers you a job almost weekly. You hold off on kicking his ass every single time because that's your best friend.
Derives great pleasure from pissing you off.
You don't agree with the manner he treats his employees, so you undermine him every chance you get, just to make sure they get the best treatment possible.
It pisses him off to no end, but he let's it go. He wouldn't hurt you. He couldn't, not without a whole bunch of backlash from quite literally everyone.
Whenever you start liking someone, he warns you to be careful because he knows the industry. He is the industry.
He's gossip central. Talks super exaggerated with his hands and his voice changes whenever he remembers another detail.
He's a touchy feller, that much is evident. He's always touching you in some way, but it's not sexual/romantic or violent, it's more reassurance for both of you. It's a safe middle ground.
You have to leave for some reason? "The limo will take you, but don't touch anything."
He throws tantrums on the regular and you've learned to just let them go on until he eventually shuts the fuck up and let's you speak.
He'll call you a slut and then ask if you want to get food. It's extremely clear that you're not dating lmao.
A/N: I hope this is okay! I've never written for a bunch of these characters, as I just stared writing Hazbin stuff last week, and even then, it was a small Vox one-shot and a Lucifer one-shot.
Requests are open, if anyone would wanna request something for one of these characters? I'd pull through to the best of my ability.
Part Two
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lemonlover1110 · 2 days
Text
𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬
Satoru Gojo
[Chapter 24] The Truth
← Previous Chapter - Story Masterlist
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Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader
Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi
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“What are you going to do with him again?” Satoru asks as you get ready to meet up with Suguru. He talks as if he has any right to know. You’re finishing up your makeup in your room while he stands in the doorway.
“Does it concern you?” You look back at him. And he sighs before shaking his head. He guesses it doesn’t. He can’t argue with you about it, yet he stands there, leaning on the doorframe. You finish putting on your lipstick before looking back at him and raising your eyebrows, “Aren’t you going to Ren? He’s waiting for you to talk about his birthday plans.”
“Right…” Satoru answers, turning around and going to Ren. He finally leaves you alone with your thoughts, finally not having to listen to his stupid comments. As much as you don’t enjoy his presence at the moment, you still have to tolerate him because of your son.
Slowly you are seeing his point of view, but that doesn’t mean you forgive him. Satoru was young, easy to manipulate– Well, you aren’t exactly focused on his age but more about the fact that Satoru was recently grieving the loss of his father and in a way felt threatened that he would lose everything simply for not following orders. What hurts you the most right now is that he didn’t even try to explain the situation to you, he assumed you were better off going your own separate ways.
“Mommy!” Ren comes running into your room, disrupting the peace that you were just granted. You look at the puppy eyes that adorn his face, and you already know he wants something. You allow him to speak first, not wanting to accuse him of something that he might not even do. But you’re proven right, “Can I get a puppy for my birthday?”
“Remind me how old you’re turning, Ren.” You tell him, and Ren holds up five fingers, a grin on his face as he shows off his big age. You fight back a smile, trying your best to remain as serious as you can possibly be. You won’t be easily convinced by him. “Five. Such a big age, right? But not enough to take care of a puppy, plus you’re starting school soon.”
“School?” Ren asks as if it’s the first time he hears of it. You’ve been preparing for him, telling him about it daily.
“You know, the place where you’ll be going to learn and make friends for the next thirteen or so years of your life.” You answer, and his mouth turns into a circle when he remembers. “Who’s going to take care of the puppy then? I still have to work.”
“Granny.” Ren answers, and you chuckle as you shake your head. Your mother isn’t exactly a big pet person, if you were to give her the responsibility of taking care of a puppy, she might just kill you. He puts his hands together and begs, “Please, mommy, please! I want a puppy!”
“Ren, we both know that–” You begin, but you realize you’re just wasting your breath. You look at the time, realizing that if you don’t finish up soon, you’ll be late. “Talk to your father about it, I have to finish getting ready.”
“Daddy!” Ren yells as he walks out of your bedroom. Maybe you made a mistake since Satoru loves to spoil Ren, and Satoru doesn’t like to think of additional responsibilities since he’s not the one that’s at Ren’s side at all times.
You’ll deal with it when Satoru attempts to get Ren a puppy, for now you’re going to focus on your own problems. Your own problem being your meeting with Suguru.
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You wait for Suguru at the café near your apartment. You have a beverage in your hand, taking an occasional sip, making sure you don’t finish it before Suguru finally decides to show up. Your eyes are glued to the door, waiting for him to finally make his grand entrance. 
You feel the nerves creeping through all of a sudden, and you have no idea why. Maybe it’s because you lied to him about Satoru, or maybe it’s because you’ve been avoiding his calls. You take a deep breath to calm your nerves, looking at the time. If he doesn’t get here within five minutes, you’ll leave. He’s running late, and you have no intention of waiting for him all day.
In reality, you’re just looking for an excuse to leave. You want to avoid this confrontation as much as you can, but you know you have to face him eventually. Suguru has been one of Satoru’s closest friends, and you were close to dating, the least you can do is give him one last conversation. You can’t avoid him forever.
Your eyes shift back and forth between the time and the door, mentally praying that he doesn’t show up. However, your prayers go unanswered when he walks through the door, his eyes immediately landing on you. He gives you a soft smile as he approaches your table.
“Hi, Suguru.” You try to return his smile, but it looks awkward. Suguru points at the counter, telling you that he’s going to get his beverage before sitting down with you, to which you nod in response. You take another deep breath, trying to calm yourself. He looks fine, and you hate to ruin his day– Perhaps he won’t care, but you doubt it. You told him a very serious lie about his best friend, you doubt he’ll be too happy with you after finding out.
“It’s so nice to see you after… So long.” Suguru sits across from you. You shift in your seat, adjusting your posture before focusing on him. You nod with an awkward smile on your face. At that moment you know, this is going to be a long hour.
“It is.” You agree before a long awkward pause ensues. You clear your throat, about to ask him how he’s been holding up, but Suguru has other plans when he speaks up before you,
“Why have you been avoiding me?” He goes straight to the point. There’s a reason why you two are there, and it isn’t for small talk. Maybe you can get to more fun matters later or another day, but not right now. 
“I’ve just been busy with Satoru and figuring out this whole parent thing, that…” You begin with an excuse but you can’t finish the sentence. You bite down your lip before you take a deep breath. You have to say it, if you keep dragging it you’ll feel worse. “I partially lied to you. Satoru never suggested an abortion at the thought of me being pregnant, I didn’t tell him because he didn’t give me the chance to, and then I couldn’t tell him because… His mother didn’t want him to know.”
And he chuckles. Suguru lets out a laugh, which makes you furrow your brows. You expected many different reactions, but not a laugh. You chew on the inside of your cheek, anxiously waiting for him to say something else.
“Is that why you haven’t been answering my calls?” Suguru asks, and you hum in response even though it’s not all. He lets out another laugh, and you want to ask why he laughs but you decide against it. You wait for him to finally say something else, although time feels as if it slows down. “Did you think I wouldn’t find out?”
“Huh? What do you mean?” You sound utterly confused. What the hell is he talking about? How would Suguru know?
“I knew. I asked Satoru what he would’ve done if you had gotten pregnant and he said he would’ve stayed by your side.” He answers, and you let out a sigh of relief knowing that the situation won’t be the big mess that you were expecting. You do still feel guilty about it. “I mean sure… Satoru could’ve lied to me, but I don’t think he would have.”
“Why didn’t you say anything about it?” You’re curious as to why he decided to remain silent about this of all things. It’s a serious matter, which you would’ve expected him to furiously call you to berate you about. But you guess the man that sits across from you isn’t that type of person.
“You lied to me to protect your ass, and I can’t really blame you for it.” He shrugs, and he could’ve left it at that and it would’ve ended up perfectly fine. The conversation could’ve ended there and you would switch the topic and talk about more lighthearted stuff. But Suguru makes sure to add, “Plus Satoru also lied to you so you’re even, I guess.”
“Do you know?” You question, wondering why he brings up the fact that Satoru lied to you as well. You watch his cheeks turn pink when he realizes his words.
“Know what?” He stutters, which says all you need to know. He knows. For how long has he known? He realizes immediately that he’s messed up. He gave himself away.
“For how long have you known?” You immediately ask, and Suguru tries to play dumb, he claims he doesn’t know what you’re talking about, making a fool of himself. You’re clearly mad, but you try to not let it show through your tone. You try to take deep breaths.
“You can say we’re kind of even…” Suguru scratches the back of his head, but that’s not enough. You’re not even because the situation with Ren had nothing to do with him, at least in your eyes. Yes, you lied to him, but it was your business, something that had nothing to do with him.
“Does Shoko know too?” You scoff, and it’s merely a joke, but Suguru bites down his lip before commenting,
“I mean, considering the fact that she’s sleeping with his wife, probably.” Which makes your eyes widen. It’s shocking, but it makes a lot of sense. You’re still speechless. “Satoru told me… A while ago.”
“I guess we’re even then.” You let out a chuckle, but it’s not humorous. You’re clearly… Annoyed. “But I think… I had different plans for us, and so did you. But we should remain as friends.”
“Huh? What do you mean?” He asks, confused why you say that. He knows you’re mad, but what you’re making is a rash decision. “You don’t mean what you’re saying, you’re just upset because–”
“No, I know what I’m saying. Suguru, I lied to you so I guess I shouldn’t be too mad but I am. And I lied to you about Satoru, and… We shouldn’t be together, I feel like we started this off wrong.” You respond, and it almost hurts to say. 
“But we can start over again without lies and–” He begins, and you cut him off.
“Let’s try to give it some time before even thinking about that. I’m not really in the right headspace for a relationship.” You answer truthfully, and he furrows his brows. He doesn’t know why, but that ticks him off.
“I bet you’ll end up choosing Satoru again.” He sounds bitter, and you can’t help but roll your eyes. Of course he says that, he assumes you’re so in love with Satoru that you can’t have a relationship with him. Suguru thinks too mighty of himself. “Explains why you so adamantly ignored my calls, and why you were on vacation with him–”
“I have a son with him, Suguru. Of course I’m going to do shit with him.” You interrupt him, standing up from your seat. He has his arms crossed, looking almost like a pouty child because he isn’t getting his way. He almost reminds you of Satoru. “I told you we should give it time before we even begin to think about it. Don’t make your case worse.”
He keeps silent while you walk away, deciding that you’re right. He isn’t going to make his case worse. 
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“How did it go?” Satoru seems as if he has been waiting by the door for you the entire time. 
“He knew?” You immediately ask, and he nods in response which makes you roll your eyes. “Everyone knows shit except me.”
“I can say the same about Ren.” Satoru argues, which is a great point, but you won’t admit it. You hand him your purse, as if he were your own little butler, and he proceeds to take it to your room.
“Where’s Ren?” You half-yell, and the man shushes you, which earns a weird look from you. There’s no way he actually got Ren to fall asleep… But for what other reason would Satoru shush you?
“He’s asleep.” Satoru informs you when he walks back, and you want to question what kind of sorcery the man is doing to make a boy that hates taking naps, fall asleep. You do appreciate it though, so you won’t complain.
You two awkwardly stand around, not sure what to speak about next since Ren is asleep. There’s something that comes to mind, but you’re not sure how appropriate the question is. Ren is asleep, so there shouldn’t be an issue, however, you don’t want to overstep any boundaries.
You still clear your throat though, “Did you know that Shoko was–”
“I know.” Satoru chuckles. “Right when we got back, Shoko dug her claws into her– Or Sayo did.”
“Were you upset when you found out? I mean, when we first saw each other again you called her love.” You bring up, walking over to the couch to take a seat, and he follows behind. Satoru takes a moment to think, and properly formulate his answer. He sighs before speaking up,
“I guess, for a moment I thought I loved her. I’m very fond of her, and I confused my adoration for her as love. She knew what I was going through, and she was always sweet to me, we could make each other laugh. Overall, we got along.” He explains, and you listen attentively. You’ll do anything to gain a little bit of perspective into his mind. “We just had each other, and that was that. But then you came into my life, and I remembered what love felt like.”
You feel your face get warm, and you look away from him. Maybe Suguru is right– You can’t let him be right. Satoru still committed a lot of bad actions. 
You stay silent and let a minute pass before speaking up again, changing the topic, “It’s not just Ren’s birthday coming up, but also yours. What would you like?”
“I already have everything I could ever want.” Satoru answers, which makes your task slightly more difficult. You’re still going to get him something for his birthday, even if it’s just a pair of socks. “How about Ren? I heard he wants a puppy.”
“He’s not getting one. Nope.” You tell him, and he laughs before nodding in response. You’re not sure he’s gotten the message yet, but you’ll make sure to remind him.
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nomazee · 1 day
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Hello, congratulations on your milestone! 🎉
May I have (for the mix-and-match 😚) Dr.Ratio and the word-concept "bathtub"? 🫢
Take your time! ❤️❤️
this one was fun to write too (as per usual with ratio) i've written for dr ratio so much in the last two weeks i think i am becoming him.... Im slowly morphing into veritas ratio please save me... THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING this was lovely :3
my 1k event!
—°+..。゚。゚+.*.。.—
“No way. You take bubble baths with a rubber duck?” 
Veritas freezes for no longer than a millisecond before whipping his head around to see you in the doorway of the bathroom. He’d been relaxing just moments ago, sinking into the hot water with his eyes closed, and yes there was a rubber duck in the bath with him but that was not by choice. It just happened to be there when he ran the bath, and he opens his mouth to argue but is quickly cut off by your endless rambling. 
“Anyways, I came to wash your hair. One of your assistants told me you just left in the middle of your usual work hours, and I thought, ‘wow, how odd, the Ratio I know would never do that!’ And then I thought, what better way to cheer my dear friend up than keep him company and wash his hair! It did look a little greasy today.” 
“I am not your dear friend,” he argues mockingly, but the bite in his voice falls short when you circle around the bath and set down your paraphernalia on the tiles next to you (a microfiber hair towel, shampoo, conditioner, some miscellaneous hair foams and sprays that he really does not trust you with). “You are the most insufferable person I have ever had the displeasure of knowing. Get out of my bathroom.” 
“This is our bathroom now, Ratio. We’re a community, you and me.” 
“It’s ‘you and I.’”
“Exactly! You and I, a community. You’re getting the hang of it now.” 
Veritas sighs, surrendering any potential of a relaxing evening to your whims. This is, unfortunately, how it usually goes, and he has yet to make a real effort to stop it. A voice in the back of his head taunts him because at his core, he has zero desire to stop it at all. 
“Come on,” you keep babbling, threading your fingers roughly through his already-damp hair. It’s not a pleasant sensation at all, and he winces and holds back a pained yelp. “It’s kind of like going to a spa, or whatever. I’m trying to pamper you. Be grateful!” 
“There’s nothing to be grateful about when you’re trying to scalp me,” he could push your hands away easily, bat you off and make you leave. Instead, though, he gives you a minute to tame your inelegant movements into something gentler. He hears the sound of a bottle uncapping, and then your hands are back on his scalp, lathering honey-scented shampoo into the layers of his hair. 
“Is this better?” you ask cheekily, tracing circles in his hair, digging your fingertips in and scratching just a little bit, hard enough to feel it but light enough that it’s still soothing. Veritas sighs through his nose, deep and heavy and sinking back into the water. There’s no mocking retorts, no quips, no sarcastic tone, just the even cycle of his breathing and the rhythm of his heartbeat thudding in his ears. If he tries hard enough, focuses enough, he can hear yours too, but it makes his stomach twist with an uncomfortable, unnameable feeling. 
In your bundle of things that you brought, there’s an empty plastic cup, and you use it to scoop water from the tub and rinse the foam from his hair. Veritas feels wholly exposed, for obvious reasons among others, and the urge to kick you out still sits heavy in his chest. Right next to it is a warmth, though, something holding his sensibility hostage, something that finds this more comforting than it would be if he’d sat in the bath until the water went cold, all alone, without your hands washing his hair clean of oil and grime and the weight of his research. 
You break him of his reverie, but the sudden sound of your voice isn’t as intrusive as he anticipated. “You know, you should start using this oil thing for your hair, I got it from one of my coworkers,” by now, his hair is completely rid of any remaining shampoo, and your hands are rubbing a thin layer of conditioner into the ends of each strand, “and it’s supposed to help your hair grow. I think you’d look great with long hair, Veritas, don’t you agree?” 
“What, do you think about that often?” It’s supposed to be something snarky, something to shut you down before you dig too deep, but you never catch the hint—it’s your best and worst quality. 
“Maybe,” you admit, heft in your words, a density that needs to be cut open and examined. He’s good at that—good at looking and prying, but he’s the worst if he’s next to you. You’re nowhere near as thorough of a researcher as him, but he thinks (with a sense of embarrassment) that when the subject is him, you’re the most qualified person around. “Wouldn’t it be nice? With your hair all down to your shoulders, maybe. And if you really think it’s a hassle to take care of, I’ll just do it for you.” 
He’s perfectly capable of taking care of his own hair, thank you very much, but the idea of having you wash it for him, brush out the tangles in it every other day is appealing to a starving man like Veritas. He aches, and the skin at the nape of his neck itches. 
“You’re saying nonsense,” he says, and he can feel the way his brow has tightened and he instinctively goes to chew at the dead skin on his lips. “My hair is perfectly fine the way it is.” 
“Oh, I don’t doubt that,” you respond, “just giving you options.” Your hands finally leave his hair, and suddenly the water in the bathtub feels frigid and icy, and Veritas represses a shiver. “Your hair is squeaky clean. Now, get out of the bathroom! It’s my turn to hang out with the rubber duck.” 
“Would you—?!” Veritas turns to glare at you, but the impish grin on his face makes him falter. You’re incorrigible. “The duck isn’t mine! And you have your own bathroom. Stop invading my space.” 
“Sigh,” you say aloud, because you’re corny and theatrics are written into every part of your personality. “Oh, grandest Ratio, I really did think we were friends, but you wound me so deeply! All this time has meant nothing to you! All this new shampoo that I bought just for you, gone to waste…” 
“For gods’ sake,” he mutters, reaching for a set of pajamas that you’d so conveniently taken from his own dressers and brought with you while on your mission to wash his hair. “Turn around so I can get dressed and then you can use the bathroom. So annoying.” 
“Not annoying enough to kick me out, though,” you say, and you’re completely right, and Veritas will admit that one day, but certainly not today.
—°+..。゚。゚+.*.。.—
gen taglist: @tragedy-of-commons @lasiancunin @hanyi-writes
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