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traveler-at-heart · 4 months
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Love Language
Summary: Natasha and you share a secret language. Just a short drabble!
Russian, English, Chinese, French, German are some of the languages listed on Natasha’s file.
But there was another one, hidden in plain sight, that apparently only you could understand.
It was the little things, the silences, the requests that weren’t verbalized. Only statements about her day, or apparent offerings that hid a need of her own.
Like certain mornings, when you greeted her in the kitchen and asked if she had breakfast yet.
“I’m not hungry”
“That won’t do” you’d answer like clockwork, reciting all the things you could do that you knew she liked. Omelette, sandwich, pancakes.
“Pancakes are fine” she’d shrug her shoulders, but would leave the plate clean. Then, she’d approach you as you did the dishes and muttered a quiet thank you.
An invitation to play games (anything, from chess to cards or Mario Kart) would be followed by a suggestion that since she’d won, the least Natasha could do was take you to dinner.
So you spent the night in one of the restaurants you both liked. Picking a place was easy; you listed the places and Natasha would interrupt you when you got to the one she wanted.
“That one was nice last time”
There are times when you’d sit in the dinning table, while she reads the paper. The entertainment section is conveniently on your side, and you grab it to read the titles of the movies showing in the old cinema downtown.
“Haven’t seen that one yet” she’d comment after you get to the right one.
Movie nights were your thing, and you always paid for the tickets and anything she wanted from the candy store.
“The movie was good” she’d say. “I’ll pick next time”
As if it hadn’t been her choice in the first place.
“Sure, Nat” you always answered, amused.
Back from missions, she always sat next to you on the Quinjet, asking if you could check for injuries she might have missed.
“Now you” she’d say. It was her way of checking that you were ok, without having to seem too concerned. You smiled as she grumbled, displeased when she saw a little bruise or open skin, her hands lingering as she cleaned the wounds.
To anyone else, it may seem frustrating. To you, it was beautiful to experience Natasha’s love language. Asking for help, seeking your company, were signs that she could and wanted to be vulnerable. To you, it was a privilege.
You could have done it forever, in all honesty.
Until one night, when a mission went sideways. Everyone was shooting, blowing up walls and trying to stay alive.
You ran from one room to the next, looking for Pietro as his comms weren’t working.
“Hey, wrap this up, kiddo” you screamed, shooting at the people trying to shoot him.
“Almost done” he grunted. He was slower, and you figured it might have something to do with the wound on his abdomen.
“Come on” you said, taking out the last guard that was behind his back.
No one was watching your back, though. You felt the pain in your chest and leg, falling in the middle of rubble and bodies.
Your eyes remained unfocused, barely listening to the commotion around you. Green eyes, filled with tears brought you back to reality.
“Stay with me” Natasha asked.
For the first time, she asked.
You’d feel overjoyed if it weren’t for the two bullet holes in your body.
She didn’t hide how terrified she was, of the blood flowing and the life leaving your eyes.
“Please don’t leave me” she asked again, and you nodded.
You kept your promise until the Quinjet landed, and everything went dark.
“I’m being such a pain in the ass” you say every time you ask for something.
Recovery’s been slow, but you won’t complain because Natasha’s by your side all the time.
“Ask for anything you need”
“How about a kiss?”
And then, she’ll roll her eyes, but lean forward, happy to feel your lips against hers.
Neither needs to ask, nor tell, but you know you love Natasha, and she loves you.
It’s in everything you do for each other.
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wileys-russo · 3 months
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hidden in plain sight II i.engen x rolfö!reader
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prequel of the number switch requested here - all non english is translated from DeepL so i apologise if anything is incorrect! hidden in plain sight II i.engen x rolfö!reader
the first time you'd properly met ingrid was when she was still playing for wolfsburg with your sister and frido had brought her home for easter because ingrids family were away on a trip.
you'd of course seen ingrid around in passing and all over your sisters social media but easter was the first chance you had to really talk to her, not that frido gave you much chance swooping her away most days to show her around your home town.
"you play for linköping yes?" ingrid asked despite already knowing the answer, your whole family sat around for dinner one night you'd ended up sat next to her with frido elsewhere occupied in catching up with some of your cousins at the other end of the table.
up until that night the two of you had been a little awkward around one another, exchanging pleasantries but you strayed away and spent time with your parents. which was odd to them considering you and ingrid were only a six or so months apart in age.
it didn't help that not having seen you for months herself your sister was taking every and any opportunity to tease or embarrass you, her own special way of showing how much she loved you, yet another reason to avoid ingrid.
ingrid, though you'd never admit aloud for fear of your sister, you found quite enamoring with her sharp jawline, rosy cheeks, striking green eyes and raven hair. your mother joked to her the day she'd arrived that she reminded her of a disney princess and you couldn't help but agree.
but the one question about football a topic you could both finally find some common ground on, seemed to break the ice and by the end of dinner both of you felt much more comfortable around one another.
"lillasyster, dishes!" you winced as frido smacked the back of your head in passing, shooting her a glare as ingrid hid a smile behind her hand finding your relationship quite endearing not having any sisters herself.
"i can help you." the defender decided, not really an offer but more of a statement as she dismissed your sisters attempts to call her over into the living room by the fire and instead the norwegian followed you into the kitchen.
you smiled seeing how well she got along with your family despite having only known them a few days as she chatted away with your mother and aunt, and with the extra set of hands everything was washed and dried in record time.
you shouldn't have been surprised when not long after dinner the real festivities began and you rather enjoyed watching everyone else get drunk and silly as you only nursed a singular glass of red wine with a coy smile.
"bah you have had this for hours, drink!" you tensed up as your sister dropped down beside you and forcefully held your head back, quite literally pouring the rest of the wine down your throat, the older girl already a bottle and a half deep herself as you coughed and spluttered.
"rövhål!" you swore as a few drops splashed onto your jumper, lunging at her as the two of you fell to the ground and rolled around, your cousins cheering you on as if it was a live wrestling match.
broken apart by your mothers strict warning she would make you both sleep outside you collapsed back onto the couch beside ingrid, kicking away your sister who kissed your cheek leaving a bright lipstick red mark with a grin as you wiped it away and swore at her again.
though ten minutes later you were leaning into frido's side with her arm draped over your shoulder and catching her up on all the latest drama within your team as if you'd not just been trying to rip one anothers hair out moments earlier.
a sight which again had ingrid grinning in amusement seated on your other side, knowing that despite the ongoing bickering and teasing frido was constantly checking up on you and forever telling her teammates all about you very proudly.
it was around two in the morning by the time everyone had slowly headed off to their own homes or filtered off to bed. having taken off your makeup and changed you were settled in your room when there was a soft knock at your door.
calling out to come in you were surprised when it was ingrid who poked her head in with an apologetic smile. "your sister snores very badly when she is drunk." the norwegian frowned as you laughed quietly and waved for her to come in.
"i would sleep on the sofa but your father is there." the girl gave you a somewhat awkward smile as you chuckled, having seen just how much he drank it wasn't the biggest surprise he wasn't able to make it upstairs and into bed.
"did you want to..." you trailed off gesturing to your bed, ignoring the blush which you felt creeping up your neck which you just attributed to the alcohol pulsing through your bloodstream.
"only if it is okay? i don't want to make you uncomfortable." ingrids normally rosy pink cheeks flushed a deeper shade of red as you shook your head. "no! no not at all, please." you assured, moving over and pulling back the covers.
you tried to ignore the way your body tensed up as she slipped into bed beside you, the two of you shuffling about for a moment before settling as you reached over to flick the lamp off.
"so, what is your favorite color?"
~
you weren't sure what time it was when you and ingrid had finally fallen asleep but it felt like you'd talked for hours asking all sorts of questions big and small. swapping stories and hastily covering one anothers mouths to stifle laughter when someone was a little too loud.
when you eventually awoke much much later you were surprised to find an arm draped protectively across your midsection, raven hair sprawled across the pillow next to you as ingrid lay still sleeping peacefully.
your mouth dry and head pounding you very gently slipped out from her hold, breathing a small sigh of relief when the norweigan remained sleeping as you closed your door behind you with a soft click.
your parents already up and awake you greeted them both tiredly, graciously accepting the coffee handed your way by your mother and kissing her cheek in appreciation before settling at the bench.
a short while later you heard another door open and your sister slumped into the seat beside you, burying her head in her arms as you chuckled. "have you seen ingrid?" frido turned her head to the side to look up at you as you nodded behind you to your own room.
"she slept with you? why?" she was immediately sat up straight and frowning down at you accusingly. ever since you were much younger frido had done her very best to drive away or intimidate any partner you had claiming none of them were ever good enough for you.
there had only been one she approved of and that itself had taken months, though when inevitable heartbreak struck and it shattered, the whole ordeal caused her to become even more overprotective and overbearing than before.
the five and a half year age gap between you meant you often complained she acted more like your second mother than a sister, the taller girl constantly babying you.
"yes she did, because you snore like an åsna when you drink and the poor girl could not stand it!" you rolled your eyes, whining as she hummed and stole your coffee, downing the last couple of mouthfuls and pushing you away as you reached for it.
"good morning." everyones heads turned as ingrid appeared from your room with a tired smile, frido quite literally shoving you from your seat and patting for ingrid to take it as you sighed and moved over to another.
"morning." you greeted the defender softly who echoed the same word back, both of you shyly avoiding one anothers gaze as your parents engaged ingrid in conversation and you slipped off to your room to shower.
when you returned the girls bags had already been packed as frido busied herself saying goodbye to your parents. "it was very lovely to meet you." ingrid smiled as you wrapped one another in a hug that maybe lasted a second or two too long, a slight blush on both of your cheeks as you pulled away.
ingrid desperately wanted to ask for your number to stay in touch but as your sister trapped you in a bear hug and she gave her thanks to your parents for so graciously hosting her it felt as though she blinked and suddenly she was in the car on the way to the airport, glancing at your retreating figure as she sped away.
~
you'd messaged back and forth on instagram for awhile before exchanging numbers finally. but with football and life commitments nothing much really came of it and you didn't see ingrid again until the champions league final months later.
you watched on with your parents and some of your sisters friends from home with a sullen stare as the final whistle blew and frido dropped to her knees, runner up in the final as the lyon players raced around celebrating.
you'd clapped and cheered in support as she accepted the second place medal, putting on a fake smile and a brave face but you knew the blonde far too well to believe it was sincere.
once the formalities were over and the crowd began to clear you all made your way down to greet her, waiting patiently as she passed from friend to family giving hugs and a small smile.
finally reaching you, you made no move to speak only pulling her into a tight hug as her taller form slumped into you. mumbling in her ear that you were very proud of her the older girl kissed the crown of your head and broke away to speak with your parents.
it was over her shoulder as she let go of you that you spotted ingrid, catching her eye and sending a small smile. you hesitated to make your way over to her, unsure if she would want yet another person reminding her of how well she played despite how terrible she would be feeling after the loss.
ingrid really wanted to go over to you, she did. but with the embarrassment of the loss hanging over her she retreated within herself hardly saying more than a few words to her friends and family still needing time to process everything.
so as your own family started to make plans for dinner you caught the norwegians eye again, sending her a warm smile and a small wave which she returned and just like that you were gone again.
~
months passed once more before the two of you saw one another again, the new year ticking over and ingrid would be lying if she said you hadn't crossed her mind more than a few times, finger hovering over your contact to send you a message.
but then she'd heard wind from frido that you were seeing someone, your sister seething that you were clearly keeping this from her as she showed ingrid story after story on your social media trying to pick apart who this mystery person could be.
you of course had denied things profusely anytime frido called to try and confront you or trick you into confessing. you were in fact seeing someone but it was early stages and still recovering from the broken heart your last relationship left you with you were taking things slow.
thankfully frido's interest in your personal life simmered down as her transfer to barcelona took her main focus, ingrid also signing with the club and moving from wolfsburg as the two grew even closer.
~
your own break nearly to an end you finally gave into your sisters begging and made plans to come and visit her in barcelona.
touching down you passed through security with a great amount of difficulty not speaking more than a few words of spanish, but when you finally pushed through to the arrival gates you grinned as you spotted your sister immediately, the blonde swede towering above most of the locals around her.
"you look so pale lillasyster! but we can fix that." frido grinned, pulling you into a tight hug as you laughed, shoving her shoulder as she let you go and grabbed your bags for you.
you were a little taken aback as suddenly another familiar face appeared, having ducked off to the bathroom. "hello?" you greeted ingrid with surprise, pulling the slightly taller girl into a hug as she rubbed your back.
"i hope its okay i came too, i thought we could all go for breakfast." ingrid offered as you let her go, trying to dismiss the way your hairs seemed to stand on end at her touch.
you shouldn't have really been so surprised to see the norweigan considering you'd known her and frido were currently renting a place together while they hunted around for their own respective spaces to settle into long term.
"ingrid is a big coffee nerd, we have not even been here a month yet and she already claims she knows all the best places!" frido teased her best friend who rolled her eyes and pushed her as you all headed out to the car.
~
"see that thing? it is called sunshine! and feel the air? how it is nice and warm?" frido teased with her arm slung over your shoulder guiding you through the streets of barcelona, having already dropped your bags off to their apartment and gone for breakfast.
ingrid had headed back home after breakfast wanting to give you and your sister some time together, frido more than happy to help you fuel your shopping addiction as you wandered through the city from store to store.
"so. how is your secret little girlfriend?" the blonde asked with a raised eyebrow, cornering you as you flicked through a rack of clothes with a roll of your eyes.
"don't have one." you shrugged, your sister sighing at the answer. "do you think i'm stupid?" she asked, clearly rhetorical as you gave her an amused smile. "do you want me to be honest?" you teased, nodding for your sister to follow as you headed back outside not finding anything you really liked.
but despite your consistent denial your sister refused to believe you, asking over and over as your patience wore down thinner and thinner. you tried to engage her in other conversations but the very moment the topic died down she would bring it right back to your love life.
"lillasyster why are you lying? i have a built in lie detector you know this." frido claimed with a scoff as you sighed, the two of you arriving to her building.
"because i am not lying, stop ruining my trip with this frido!" you warned as she let the two of you in, your sister seeming to finally drop it.
~
"do not burn my apartment down while i am gone! ingrid should be back soon." frido warned as you rolled your eyes playfully, your sister needing to go to a meeting with a potential new brand deal as you cooked yourself some food.
"make sure to use the personality where you're polite and smart and easy to work with. not your actual personality where you're grumpy, bad mannered and impatient!" you patted her shoulder, ducking with a grin as she swung at you and swore in swedish.
"behave!" your sister warned with a stern finger pointed in your direction as you held your hands up in defence. "and save me some!" she added on nodding to your food on the stove before the front door closed after her.
you were dishing up when you heard keys in the door, a thud heard as ingrid burst inside with a curse, frido having warned you the lock could be sticky sometimes and need a heavy hand.
"are you okay?" you gave her a smile of amusement, grabbing out another bowl and the norweigans cheeks flushed pink as she hung up her keys with a nod.
"hungry?" you offered holding up the empty bowl as she nodded eagerly. "please! that smells wonderful." ingrid sighed as you dished her up some, the two of you moving to the table to eat.
taking the time to properly catch up with her not really having talked properly for months now the time flew by, empty bowls pushed aside and laughter filling the apartment as you threw your head back, knees tucked up to your chest.
"really? she just walked in?" ingrid gasped in disbelief as you nodded with a groan. "yeah! i told you she has no regard for privacy unless its her own, and then she chased the poor girl out of the house half naked in the middle of a swedish winter!" you sighed shaking your head at the memory.
"so she is protective." ingrid chuckled as you gave her a look. "over protective. sometimes i swear frido thinks she gave birth to me the way she treats me!" you rolled your eyes, ingrid propping her head up on her chin.
"she loves you, very much. i think i know more about your life and your career than you with how much she speaks about it." ingrid teased gently as you sent her a smile.
"sorry about that, i'm not very good at the whole texting thing. its why fridolina calls me anytime she has even the smallest question!" you huffed at the annoying habit.
"i like talking to you though. it feels...easy." you admitted, slight blush on your cheeks as you cleared your throat and grabbed the bowls, excusing yourself to the kitchen as ingrid followed.
"well i like talking to you too."
~
your week in barcelona flew by and before you knew it was your last night and you were cramped into a bar in the middle of the city surrounded by a few of your sisters new teammates as you struggled to try and keep up with the conversation.
you appreciated most of the girls did their best to speak to you in english but as the alcohol flowed the spanish became quicker and you stepped out for a new drink and a breather, your head spinning a little.
you hadn't noticed a certain pair of green eyes on you all evening but ingrid had been carefully watching, checking in every now and then subtly reminding her friends that you didn't speak spanish and to slow it down when your attention was elsewhere.
so as you stepped away from the group she was quick to follow you toward the bar, your sister far too drunk to notice as she was engaged in a heated conversation about god knows what with caro and marta.
"are you okay?" you jumped slightly as her hand landed on yours not having heard anyone follow you but you settled the moment your eyes met her concerned gaze. "think i might need a spanish tutor for next time i visit." you joked with a smile.
"just a water, thank you." ingrid answered the bartender at his questioning, sliding you your own drink as the norweigan took her water. "you're not drinking?" you asked in surprise, the two of you hovering at the end of the bar where it was a little quieter.
"i had a couple but i am not really in the mood." ingrid shrugged sipping on her water. "if you wanted to leave soon i can come with? i know you fly back home tomorrow." ingrid offered as you shook your head.
"no please! you should stay out and enjoy the time with your team before the season starts up, they all seem very friendly." you dismissed, quickly finishing the last mouthful of your drink and leaving the empty glass on the bar.
"no really it is okay, i am a little tired and i thought maybe we could go for breakfast tomorrow before you leave?" ingrid offered somewhat hopefully, spinning around the straw in her glass.
"with frido! of course." the defender clarified, neck slightly flushed as you nodded.
"yeah i'd really like that." you agreed with a soft smile, a strange feeling settling in your stomach as the brunette sent you a toothy grin back, pushing her raven hair to one side and leaving her glass as you both agreed to go and say your goodbyes.
"lillasyster nooo you are not leaving!" frido whined with a slur as you smiled in amusement at her disheveled state. "i am. i have to fly home tomorrow and i don't want to have my head in a toilet throwing up on the plane!" you teased, wrenching her hands away where they grabbed at you.
"i will make sure we both get home safe." ingrid promised as frido seemed to relax a little at that. "good good! go be boring together then both of you. boo!" your sister jeered as you kissed her cheek with a smile, waving goodbye to the rest of the girls.
your uber already outside you both slipped in, a comfortable silence falling as you were dropped home and ingrid got you both inside the building.
"every time!" the brunette huffed as she struggled to open the front door. "stop laughing at me." the girl frowned, ramming her shoulder into the wood as it popped open.
"i wasn't laughing at you, i was laughing with you." you clarified with a grin, closing the door after the two of you as she hummed and hung her keys up.
"whatever you say vakker." ingrid smiled with a playful roll of her eyes. "what does that mean? vakker?" you questioned with a confused frown, hovering in the doorway of their spare room.
"guess you'll have to learn spanish and norweigan before your next visit." ingrid smiled slyly, ducking off to shower and change in her own room. "ingrid! thats not fair." you groaned, but when you didn't receive a reply you gave up and retreated.
"is this you trying to help me work on my texting or just being lazy?" you teased as you joined ingrid in the living room a short while later, holding up your phone where the older girl had texted asking if you wanted to watch a movie as it wasn't too late.
"du er veldig morsom." the girl replied in norweigan as you collapsed onto the lounge beside her. "let me guess, you won't tell me what that means?" you looked across at her as she simply smirked, answering your question for you as you kicked her gently.
"du är mycket irriterande." you quipped back in swedish with a proud smile, but it was wiped away as she replied back in your mother tongue that you were just as annoying. "you speak swedish!" you scoffed in shock.
"i have been friends with your sister for years, you think we have not taught each other our languages?" she laughed as you groaned and crossed your arms over your chest with a frustrated huff, tensing a little in surprise as ingrid pulled your legs to rest in her lap and turned on the tv.
the two of you eventually agreeing on a movie you settled in with hands wrapped around a mug of hot chocolate. the temperature oddly cool tonight a gust of wind bellowed through the open balcony doors and you shivered lightly, goosebumps appearing up your legs which wasn't missed by the girl whose lap they were sat in.
"are you cold? i can close the doors?" she offered kindly as you waved her off. "no its okay! the fresh air is nice i just didn't pack a sweater or anything. frido told me i wasn't allowed to because my skin needs all the sun it can get." you rolled your eyes making her laugh before she tapped your legs so she could stand up as you moved them.
you assumed she was using the bathroom as she darted away but within seconds she was sitting back down beside you, a bundle of material in hand which she offered your way as you sat up.
"thank you." you smiled sincerely, accepting the sweater and pulling it over your head. something stirred within ingrid seeing you wearing her clothing but she dismissed it with a slight clear of her throat turning her focus back to the movie.
however despite the warmth and comfort of the norweigans sweater covering you the goosebumps on your legs did not go away as ingrids eyes drifted downward having pulled them back into her lap.
before she could think about it much more she'd tapped at your knee as you turned to look at her with a raised eyebrow. "did you want to...?" she asked with a somewhat shy smile, raising one arm and gesturing for you to move a little closer.
"thank you." you repeated again, cheeks warm as you sat up and shuffled a little more into her, her arm draping over your shoulder as you tucked yourself into her side, both of you doing your best to focus on the movie despite how hard both your hearts were racing.
absentmindedly your hand settled on ingrids knee, fingers tracing shapes against her skin as you both laughed at the movie and shared a grin.
your gazes hovered upon one anothers features a few seconds too long, breaking apart as you both blushed and tried your best not to dwell over how you were each feeling.
growing a little more tired your head came to rest on ingrids shoulder and the older girl hesitated for a moment before her arm shifted, hand tangling in your hair and scratching gently at your scalp.
once more you both laughed, making comments to one another and once again your gazes locked as you pulled your head up, your eyes staring deep into the rich green of her own.
subconsciously you found yourself craning your head upward a little, ingrids hand slipping down to settle on the back of your neck and you didn't miss the way her eyes darted ever so briefly down to your lips.
hit with a surge of confidence you leaned up even further, giving her time to pull away if she wished but she stayed where she was and with the slightest of nods suddenly your lips were connected.
if you thought you'd ever kissed someone who knew how women liked to be kiss, all of that flew out the window as ingrids mouth pressed perfectly into yours.
her other hand moved to rest on your cheek, palm soft and welcoming and her touch tender as you lent into it tilting your head slightly as ingrids breath caught at the new angle.
her tongue traced along your bottom lip, dipping in the small cracks and grooves before you parted them and it slipped inside causing you to hold back a quiet moan at the sensation. her own lips slightly chapped but still so plump and inviting as they moved in rhythm against your own.
but right as both of her hands dropped to grip your hips and she pressed her body into you starting to have you lay down on the lounge there was a loud thump and a bang as you sprang apart from one another.
"oh fuck!" your sister groaned, sat on the floor holding her head where she'd gone crashing down as both you and ingrid hurried over to help her.
ingrid slung an arm around her and helped her up, stumbling a little as frido swayed left to right and you closed the front door before hurrying to balance her from the other side.
both of you struggled as your sister was hardly able to hold herself up and you carried her into her room, dropping her down on the bed with a shared grunt.
"i can look after her, you should head to bed." you assured ingrid, both your cheeks flushed crimson and it was clear neither of you were going to talk about the kiss tonight as she nodded and darted out of the room as your sister moaned.
"oh i think i am going to throw up!"
~
that next morning you weren't sure quite how to go about things, having laid awake tossing and turning as the memory of the kiss haunted you.
you were the first awake and you still had a few more hours before you needed to be at the airport, having already packed yesterday.
"good morning." you looked up from your phone at the new voice, meeting ingrids somewhat bashful gaze as you sent her a soft smile and repeated the greeting.
a silence fell between you two as she busied herself making a coffee, and you weren't sure if it was one you found comfortable or uncomfortable as you pretended to be occupied with your phone.
"did you still want to get breakfast?" ingrid asked as she placed down a coffee in front of you somewhat hesitantly. "do you want to get breakfast?" you countered, murmuring a quiet thanks as you sipped on the warm drink.
"i asked you first." she gave you a small smile which you returned. "yeah, i'd like that." you nodded in confirmation, another silence falling as you both appeared caught up in your own worlds momentarily.
"about last night-" "we should talk about-"
it would seem you both snapped out of your daydreams in sync as you spoke at the same time, smiling awkwardly at the shared thought.
"frido said you are seeing someone." ingrid blurted out first, cheeks warming with a slight embarassment at the abruptness of her statement.
"no, she just thinks that. i was for a little while but it didn't amount to anything, we had different intentions with what we were looking for." you answered honestly which seemed to relax her slightly as her shoulders dropped a little of the tension they held.
"but i go back to sweden today, and you live in spain." you quietly pointed out the obvious, lips turned downward at your words as ingrid nodded in understanding, expression mirroring your own.
"but. i would-i would like if maybe we spoke more when i leave? i promise to get better at the texting." you blushed properly now which ingrid found adorable as she nodded.
"i would like that too. and i could even call you, save you with the texting!" she teased gently, a mutual agreement of sorts seeming to have fallen between you as the tension eased off and once again you both jolted as with a bang your sister appeared, leaning in her doorway with her eyes shielded by a comically large pair of sunglasses.
"i think i have been hit by a truck."
~
as the months once again flew past what started off as speaking weekly, ingrid calling you most thursdays when she knew you both had your rest days, soon turned into every few days.
and then before you could even blink you found it a part of your daily routine to call her, somehow the two of you never running out of things to speak about as the calls turned to facetimes and the pair of you grew even closer.
you weren't really sure what to make of everything though.
you found if days passed where you spoke less or one of you was unable to call that they seemed to drag on even longer, your mood souring at not being able to see and speak with the norweigan.
you were still yet to see her in person again since your last visit to barcelona, but the way you spoke to one another it was obvious that with the pair of you there was something there.
something just simmering below the surface as you'd both accepted it for whatever it was and maybe even pushing the real feelings down a little considering you lived in separate countries.
the first time you were able to see her again was on international duty, a friendly set between sweden and norway in preparation for the upcoming euros tournament in late summer.
you'd loved being back on camp not having seen many of the girls you'd grown up around for months and months, seeing some of them more like sisters than friends.
and of course your actual sister was thrilled to see you again, though on national duty she respected a little more that you weren't her little baby and to her credit made an effort not to tease you too much.
plus, she hardly got her chance among your other teammates taking it in turns anyway.
"off!" you ordered shoving away magda who'd made it her mission to make up for lost time, pestering you relentlessly as you tried to lace up your boots and ready yourself for the game, shoving her away and snatching your shin guards out of her hand.
your phone buzzing with a message a small smile graced your lips seeing who it was from, slipping out of the change room almost unnoticed as everyone else was busy preparing.
following the instructions texted to you it was no surprise when you were suddenly tugged around a corner and pulled into a hug, a flash of bright red spinning across your vision.
"hi." you breathed out with a grin as your face pressed into her shoulder, the two of you embracing tightly before gradually pulling away. "hello vakker." ingrid grinned right back as the tips of your ears heated up now knowing what the word meant.
"i should not be fraternizing with the enemy." you clicked your tongue with a playful shake of your head, finger tapping at the norway crest on her chest. "you are not...yet." ingrid smiled suggestively and once again you caught her eyes drop down to your lips.
though right as you leaned up to kiss her there was a noise from beside you and you sprang apart, magda standing with her arms crossed a few feet away and a steely look on her face.
reminding you that the game was about to start in swedish you nodded, letting go of ingrids hands as your face paled. one more hard look from the older swede ingrid's own rosy features faded, and with a quick kiss to your cheek she was gone.
you and madga engaged in a firm staring contest as you searched her eyes for any sign of what her next move would be, both of you awaiting the other to speak first and break the showdown.
"please don't tell frido! you need me alive for the match, no?" you tried with a guilty smile, withering under the older girls hard gaze. though right as you were ready to drop to your knees and beg did that facade crack, a large grin replacing the stern frown.
"snälla! i would not tell frido i am the cool one!" magda scoffed, rounding on you and pulling you into a headlock of sorts as she started to march you both back toward the tunnel.
"you know i am actually quite proud of you liten. we did not think you had any game!" magda shrugged as you gave her a look. "we?" you questioned with narrowed eyes.
"me and z, we had a bet going! but i did not factor in that the first serious girlfriend you keep from your sister would be her best friend. i think z might owe me even more money now." magda whistled as you smacked her shoulder.
"she's not my girlfriend." you mumbled with a huff, walking alongside her as the rest of your teammates came into view and magda gave you a look of surprise, stopping the two of you for a second.
"no? well i see the way she looked at you liten. i do not think it will stay that way for very long, in fact i would even bet on it!" and with a wink she was off and you hurried to catch up with her.
~
you also had the chance to make a transfer of your own by the end of that year, your performances with your national team peaking the interest of multiple clubs both in and out of europe as your contract with linköping was coming to an end.
the three offers your agent had recommended you take most interest in were from barcelona, wolsfburg and from chelsea. with time running out to make a decision and your mind an absolute mess you called the one person you knew would be upfront with you.
"lillasyster what is holding you back from making a decision?" frido asked softly as you sighed and laid down in bed, spending the weekend at your family home seeking out any sort of comfort you could to try and help sway your mind.
"i don't know. england would be a fantastic step for my career and exposure, and i would be with z and magda. but barcelona is a huge club and proven winners, and i would be with you. but so are wolfsburg and i know a lot of the girls there already. england is exciting but it is far from home, germany and spain is a little closer but-" you hesitated, unsure if to say your next words or not.
"hey, its just me. vara ärlig!" your sister encouraged gently, knowing the choice she was hoping you'd make but not wanting to hold any influence over your career and your choices.
"but i don't want people to think i am just following whatever you do and wherever you go." you mumbled quietly, frido smiling to herself as her guess had been correct.
"älska nobody would think that! nobody who is important anyway. this needs to be your decision but you know i would love nothing more than to play alongside you for club and country and to be able to see you every day. but i will always be so proud of you no matter what you do or where you go, and i will support you in whatever choice you make. show no fear, nobody can ever take advantage of a weakness if you do not show it!" your sister spoke firmly but kindly, and you appreciated her more than you could.
and so after a few days of grueling thinking and balancing up all the odds, you called your agent and made your decision.
~
having forgotten to draw the curtains last night the moment the sun began to properly rise high in the sky you rose along with it, the golden morning sun bathing your face.
quite enjoying the subtle wake up you exhaled deeply and stretched, your girlfriend dead asleep on her stomach beside you as your eyes fluttered open and you rubbed them sleepily.
a slow adjustment into reality you continued to blink tiredly, reaching over for your phone in which a quick tap of the screen showed it was nearing nine in the morning.
you knew you both had the day off from training which is why she'd ended up staying over, the two of you still in the early stages of building a proper relationship together since the transfer it felt too fast to move in together.
there was of course the other glaringly large barrier in the way, which was your sister.
from the get go both you and ingrid had been in agreement that frido was not to know for the sake of both your newly blossomed relationship with one another and your existing relationship with her.
as you shifted around a little you heard a quiet sigh from beside you, and glancing over your shoulder you saw bright green eyes blinking sleepily back at you.
"good morning älskling." you smiled, head thumping down on the pillow as she sighed again, reaching out for you and pulling you close, burying her face in your neck. your nose scrunched as her hair tickled your nose and you smiled, hands slipping up the back of her top as your nails scratched up and down.
"that feels nice." she hummed quietly, warm lips kissing lazily at your skin. "oh we have the whole day off." ingrid remembered with a content groan, squeezing you a little tighter as you laughed softly.
"mm we do, we could even stay in bed all day." you sung out as her head pulled back to lay on the pillow again staring back at you. "all day in bed with you? what could we possibly do in bed all day kjære." ingrid grinned toothily, thumbs rubbing circles into your hips.
"no idea. we may have to put our heads together to think of something." there was a rustling of sheets as you climbed on top of her, hair falling around the two of you like a curtain as the defender grabbed the back of your neck and tugged you down toward her with a smirk.
"well together i'm sure we can work out a solution kjærlighet."
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kneesofpoultry · 2 months
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So, ages ago, I saw (as I'm sure a lot of us did) THIS post about the Middle Eastern, men-only cover of The Sims 2. I kind of thought it was a hoax, mostly due to the crazy high price tag and the fact that I'd genuinely never heard of it before. But a couple of replies on that original post had owned that copy or seen it before.
Anyway, a few weeks ago I'm searching through ebay for the thick Sims 2 expansion pack cases when I find a listing from the UK for around $70AUD, with three expansion packs and, the best part, a version of The Sims 2 base game with the all male cover! I'm happy to say it wasn't a scam and it arrived today, photos below.
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More photos and comparisons under the cut:
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Left is the all-men cover(a 2009 copy according to the box), right is an Australian version (2006). I think my favourite part about this difference is how the guy in a brown shirt on the very left is the same in both copies, he just doesn't have the woman with him anymore.
(When I say "Australian Copy", I mean sold in Australia. I'm about 90% sure most copies of the sims 2 have either this cover, or the later produced cover with additional sims, such as an alien and a man in black, on it)
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The back of the cases, left being the all-men cover, right being the Australian 2006 copy. There are more differences here, notably almost all of the women are gone except for the scientist lady in the top right. The sim in Create-A-Sim is a man on the Middle Eastern copy, the children in the top left are different. The poolside hang out on the 2006 copy had women in bikinis in it, but the Middle Eastern copy instead has a photo of men reacting to a kitchen fire. The women in the centre are gone (once again leaving brown-shirt guy maidenless) and replaced with a butler, a feature that isn't even present in the sims 2 base game. Both the image of the villa and the Grim Reaper have been removed from the Middle Eastern copy.
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Inside of both cases. Interestingly, the Middle Eastern copy (bottom) has women on the disc, but the top 2006 copy is just a plain blue disc. I haven't read the manuals to compare them extensively but both seem to have the same information, just in a slightly different order. The Middle Eastern manual is thicker as it has both an English section and an Arabic section.
I won't be able to install this base version onto my pc due to catchment, but if you did play this version please let me know if there were any differences! Thank you for reading along with me, I hope you found this as interesting as I did.
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Season 5 and the symbolism of pancakes
Guys, I swear I have a life outside of speculating the meaning behind pancakes in Miraculous...
But seriously, they're important. They symbolise the future (as made explicit in Pretention).
[Small note: they look like pancakes, they're called "pancakes" in the French dub, I don't know if they taste like pancakes, but I do know that they are not "French toasts" as the English dub claims. So I'll stick to "pancakes"]
Illusion
So we are introduced to the pancakes in Illusion, where for the first time Adrien sees his father in the kitchen, preparing breakfast.
Seems benign enough. Gabriel is even considered enough to ask Adrien how he likes his pancakes. He likes them "well-toasted."
Illusion is an episode where Gabriel fakes having changed, and him giving Adrien a choice is in line what that change. Of course, he still manipulates him into making him think that he has the freedom to not be the face of the Alliance, by basically threatening to withhold his newly expressed fatherly love if Adrien refuses to agree with him (more on that in this post). Pancakes are just a device for Gabriel to add to his illusion of good parent, and the illusion that Adrien has a choice.
Passion
Adrien and Gabriel are in the kitchen. Adrien is looking at his extremely decorated pancakes.
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As we learn from Nathalie a second later, he likes his pancakes plain. She tells him to not eat them "to please his father", while Gabriel seemingly naively points out that if Adrien didn't want bananas, he could have told him.
Sure he could tell him, except that the last time Adrien asked for something from Gabriel -to not be the face of Alliance-, he emotionally manipulated him to withdraw his request, and even made him wear the said Alliance.
The bananas and the fancy toppings are basically a metaphor for the fancy model life Gabriel wants to give Adrien, while Adrien really doesn't want any of it. And just as many people like toppings on their pancakes, they also would like to have a life of fame, hence think Adrien is lucky (as seen in the S4 Finale). Meanwhile, Adrien doesn't want any of it, he likes his pancakes and and his life plain and simple, "au naturel".
Nonetheless, Adrien still continues eating his father's pancakes, saying that he doesn't mind, that he likes them.
Pretension
This is where the pancake business gets serious.
First, we learn that indeed, Gabriel's pancakes taste bad. Plagg cheers for being saved from eating another serving of Gabriel's pancakes. This is bordering to over analysis but, given that Plagg couldn't eat them while Gabriel is in the kitchen, I assume that's Adrien's opinion which he must have confessed to Plagg at a more appropriate time. And still, Adrien keeps eating his father's pancakes.
Later in the episode, the pancake/future metaphor is expressed very clearly by Gabriel. He tells Marinette that she can have her pancake and life however she wants it, but the one thing she can't do is to share it with Adrien.
He says very clearly:
You think that you have a choice, but all you have is the illusion of a choice. And I decide which choices you get.
And where do we get this exact claim in practice? In the episode Illusion, where Gabriel manipulates Adrien into thinking that he has a say over his future, while Gabriel is the one making all the choices that matter.
And he gives two "choices" to Marinette:
To eat the pancake, receive Gabriel's backing and be a famous designer
To refuse the pancake and have nothing
Once more, the way he frames it, Gabriel gives the illusion that Marinette has a choice, while neither of the two choices includes being with Adrien. So he basically leaves her with no choice but to break up with him.
Now comes the breaking point. Marinette fully understands that the pancakes are a metaphor for her and Adrien's future, and she continues the same metaphor to get her message across to Gabriel (talk about power move).
First, she refuses to eat them. She has "lost her appetite."
This refusal is in contrast with Adrien who kept eating them even though he didn't like them. Unlike him, Marinette "doesn't even need to try them to know that they are bad."
Normally, this is to be understood as her making the choice no 2: refuse the pancake and have nothing.
As such, she is escorted out the kitchen. The scene composition clearly shows that she is stuck between Gabriel on the one side, and the Gorilla on the other.
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Because, she refused the pancake. Per Gabriel's rules, she is supposed to have nothing.
But Marinette defies that. Not only she runs upstairs to hug and tell Adrien that she'll never abandon him, but she also gets back downstairs without needing to be restrained by the Gorilla, hence protecting her composture.
Look at how she goes down the stairs, having not only the physical but also the moral high-ground:
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She looks so intimidating that in the next frame, even the Gorilla steps aside to let her pass. Both Gorilla and Gabriel are surprised by her move, if you zoom in you can see it in their faces. Gabriel did not expect her to do something outside the two "choices" he had given her.
And then comes the death blow, where Marinette tells Gabriel:
You know what's your pancakes problem? They have too much flour and not enough butter. You use an outdated recipe, no one likes them like that anymore.
Yup. She calls Gabriel's entire fashion, but also life practices, outdated with one simple metaphor. My girl slays.
At the end of Pretention, during dinner (no pancakes here sorry), we see that a parallelling breakthrough happens in Adrien's front.
Gabriel tells Adrien that he can spend as much as time as he wants with Marinette, for he will be in London next year. Again, Gabriel is creating the illusion that he is free to date Marinette, except that, as Adrien now realises, he is not. Adrien gets visibly furious at his father for the first time.
He does quickly calm down, but what is his reaction? He says that he has "lost his appetite," just like Marinette did. The boy who kept eating badly made pancakes with the toppings he didn't like finally refuses to eat the illusions his father is feeding him.
This, coupled with Adrien's terror at going to his room at the beginning of the episode, leaving Marinette alone despite himself, become a turning point for him: he finally acknowledges that he isn't free, and that his father keeps forcing his decisions onto him. Maybe also getting one step closer to discovering/accepting that he is a sentibeing.
All this story, told through pancakes.
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hangeswif3 · 5 months
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Mistake
Pairing: Bonten!Rindou x reader.
Summary: you don’t remember what happened last night.
Warnings: super slight nsfw, cursing.
Note: I wrote this cause I saw this tiktok
And i couldn’t help but thinking about Rindou.
You know the drill, English isn’t my first language so be nice, and idk if I like this so I might delete it later. Thanks for reading anyways, I love u <3
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Your head was killing you. Was the first thing you noticed. The second thing was how bright were the lights. You slowly opened your eyes to scan the place you were in. It was your room, but something looked kinda off, you noticed you were only wearing your underwear and your sheets were all over the place, like someone else had slept with you.
You tried to remember what had happened last night. You were out with your friends, everyone was there and things obviously got out of control, because you couldn’t remember a thing.
You tried to trace back to the last thing you remembered. Like the ride there, meeting the guys at the club, Ran getting drinks for everyone, you dancing with your friends, Sanzu getting high, Sanzu offering stuff to everyone, and you drinking a lot. Everything else was like a blur, almost like it might have happened but maybe it didn’t.
You slowly raised your head and got out of bed. You looked in the mirror, you looked awful. Your make up was all smeared, your hair was crazy and you had some interesting marks on your neck. You didn’t remember who gave you those.
Shit.
You heard some noise outside so you put on an oversized shirt and some shorts and got out of your room.
“There she is, good morning party girl.” Said Ran.
He was in the kitchen, bending over the counter drinking a cup of coffee. You turned your head to see your surroundings and noticed that everyone was there. Sanzu was sleeping on the couch, Koko and kakucho were sleeping right next to him on the floor, and Ran was shirtless which meant he had slept there too, probably in your roommate’s room.
And Rindou, he was making himself some coffee, he had a withe plain shirt and some pants. He had his hair all in a mess and he wasn’t wearing his glasses. He looked awkward.
“Morning, mister Haitani.” You said playfully. “What the fuck happened last night?” You asked rubbing your face.
Everyone seemed to stay quiet for a moment.
“You don’t remember?” Said Ran smirking.
“Remember what?” You said.
Ran laughed and right when he was about to speak, Rindou cleared his throat and turned around to look at you in the eye, while taking a sip to his coffee.
Ran put his hands up on defeat and walked out to the other room, he was laughing.
“How are you feeling?” Asked Rindou when Ran was gone.
“Why are y’all acting so weird? And what the fuck happened-” You suddenly stopped noticing the hickeys on Rindou’s neck. “Oh, had fun last night?” You asked him pointing to the marks on his neck.
“Huh?” He saw how your face change to a slightly annoyed expression. “Oh, yeah kinda” he said finally.
The truth was, you have always had something with Rindou. His relationship with you wasn’t like with the others. You guys were always “fake” flirting, but no one really made a move. That didn’t stopped you or him from getting jealous every time the other flirted with someone else.
“Cool” you said, leaving him there and moving to the living room. Your head was definitely hurting now.
You moved Sanzu a little to wake him up. And sat down on the couch next to him. He groaned and opened his eyes to look at you before pulling you by your shirt for you to lay down with him. The couch wasn’t so big so you were literally on top of him.
“Good morning princess” said Sanzu holding you tight. He was always like this with you, which annoyed Rindou.
Rindou that had followed and now we’re sitting on a little couch in front of you two was now looking at you two, he looked mad. He didn’t like when Sanzu touched you.
“Stop, move over so I can use the blanket too.” You said to Sanzu.
He obliged and you two ended up sitting next to each other, covered by the blanket.
“Did you have fun last night?” Asked Sanzu.
“Don’t even mention it. I have no fucking idea what I did.” You responded.
“Oh is that so?” He said, locking eyes with Rindou, a smile creeping up his face. “I think I have some pictures from last night on my phone.” He was reaching out his phone when Rindou spoke.
“Y/n, can I talk to you for a second?” He said, still looking at Sanzu.
“No, I wanna see the photos first.” You said, taking the phone from Sanzu’s hand and going for the media folder.
A bunch of pictures appeared and you clicked to the most recent one, you scrolled through all of them. Some of them were of the others laughing or drinking, some of them were blurry but one especially catches your eye. It was you. You and Rindou.
You could see yourself sat down on Rindou’s lap, he had a hand on your waist and you both were laughing. You scrolled more and now there was a video. You were dancing on a small platform with a pole in the middle. Your small black dress and your black red net tights didn’t cover much, thank god you were wearing small shorts underneath.
But that wasn’t all, you were dancing in front of someone and that someone was recording you with his phone. It was Rindou. He was cheering up for you and you were dancing for him and smiling at his phone.
You looked like you were having a lot of fun, to be fair.
But then you scrolled to the next photo. And that’s when you realized who left the marks on your neck. Rindou was kissing you, and not a nice innocent kiss. He was sitting on a couch, and you were straddling over him, both legs to his sides. And there was more pictures of you two having fun.
You suddenly remembered something, like a memory flashing by. You were dancing to a song and Rindou came behind you, he didn’t say anything but put his hands on your hips, moving to the rhythm of the song.
You looked up at Rindou, he wasn’t looking at you. You stood up and walked towards him, pointing to your room.
“Let’s go.” You said.
He let you walk in first and close the door behind him.
“You remember?” You asked first.
“Parts of it.” He said. He didn’t look nervous, just a little guilty.
“Care to help me remember?” You said.
“I mean. Everyone was minding their own business, we were dancing, having a good time. You kissed me, so I kissed you. We ended up here. We didn’t go too far.” He said, finally looking at you.
You sat down on the bed, he stayed in front of the door, against the wall.
“Wow” you finally said.
“Yeah.”
“I mean, we were drunk.” You said, standing up and walking towards him.
“We were.”
“It was a mistake.”
“It was.”
“We’re friends.”
“Yeah, we are.”
By this point you were extremely close to him. You didn’t even notice that he had put a hand on your waist.
“We can’t let that-“ you didn’t finish your sentence because he kissed you. Putting a hand on your cheek.
You immediately kissed him back. It was a desperate kiss, full of frustration and anger.
“Jump.” He said. You did it and put your legs around him. He turned around and pressed you to the wall harshly. You moaned because of how good his body felt pressed against yours and he took the chance to explore your mouth with his tongue.
You two separated for a moment to get some air and you looked into his eyes. You couldn’t help but laugh at the irony.
“We can’t let that happen again.” You said before you kissed him again.
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myloveismylevi · 3 months
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Just a lil weepy thinking about post-war dadvi, his little boy (5? 6?) wanting to make tea for his Dad the way he’s seen him do it a million times, because he just loves him so much and admires him and wants to make him the happiest Dad in the world, but he’s still so little compared to the world around him, so he pulls a chair over to the counter and climbs on it, putting water in the teapot, opening the canister of tea leaves, and pulling a teacup - Levi’s favorite teacup - out of the cabinet. but his hands are small, and when he tries to climb down from the chair the cup slips from his hand and breaks on the kitchen floor.
So, naturally Levi comes hurrying (as much as he can on his stiff knee) into the kitchen to see what produced the noise, and finds the chaos his little one has produced on the counter, and him, kneeling on the ground, with shards of porcelain in front of him. And when his father stands in the doorway, he looks up at him, tears collecting at his lash line.
“I’m sorry, Daddy…” he’ll whimper.
“What happened?” Levi’ll ask in his usual monotone voice, but there’s a softness behind it.
And the boy will try to explain, tears rolling down his face, feeling so awful for making a mess, and for breaking his Dad’s favorite cup, and for not being able to take care of Daddy the way Daddy takes care of him, because he’s got Levi’s same bleeding heart beating in his chest, the one that wants to take care, the one wants to be strong and independent. But also his introspection, his emotion, his sensitivity and empathy.
And Levi’ll be transported back to his own childhood, the teacup that belonged to his mom, the one that they had to sell, the one he tried to get back, but couldn’t. And his heart will ache so bad to think that his child, his sweet perfect angle of a thing, feels even a fraction of the hurt he felt over a piece of porcelain, because of his utter devotion to him.
And he’ll take the boy in his arms, and he’ll hold him close, and he’ll tell him patiently and gently, in his Levi way, that a cup is just a thing, and what matters most is that he wasn’t hurt. And how much he appreciates the boy wanting to do a nice thing for him, but that what he was doing was dangerous, and how important it is that he be more careful, because stoves are hot, and chairs can tip, and broken porcelain can cut one of his 10 miraculous sweet little fingers, and there are thousands of teacups to replace what broke but nothing in all of eternity could replace the boy, living and breathing, that he holds fast to his chest. (His voice is quiet, words grammatically simple, and his tone is steady but his heart is physically ACHING and flailing in his chest from how much love is trying to squeeze into it rn)
And Levi tells his son, in plain English (Eldian? Idk?), that he loves him, and that he always will, because with a tiny mind and heart at stake, there’s no room for beating around the bush with that talk like he often does. And he tells him that his parents will help him to do whatever he wants to do, and to ask for help next time.
Because if only someone’d told Levi, when he was that small, that they would help him. If someone has just loved him, and ALWAYS been there… how much easier he could’ve breathed all those years. The prospect of not having to constantly be afraid to feel. To fail.
It’s all he can think about - how he can do better, give more, than what he had - even in a moment as seemingly small as this.
(I’m sorry.)
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xblackreader · 3 months
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SydCarmy Meets The Family <3
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>>> The thought of Carmy being introduced to Sydney’s tons of Nigerian Aunties and Uncles is very humorous to me.
“And Here he is! I brought you my boyfriend, Carmen finally. So everyone leave me alone about it.” Sydney starts, once she has hugged everyone.
The ‘Please go easy on my white man’ is silent but they nod. Raising up to shake his hand and her littlest clingy cousin who greets her, stares him down like he’s an alien.
He sticks out like a blonde haired blue eyed sore thumb, but once he’s been greeted and given a general threatening message via all her uncles (in tight jeans and sandals, which lightens the threats) he is told to put down the things they brought in the kitchen.
“Nice firm handshake.” He hears an uncle comment as he leaves and he is elated. It’s small but it’s approval!
Once in the kitchen, the auntie’s crowd to greet him with hugs and get distracted seeing him for the first time, squeezing his muscles and touching his hair.
“Eh… nwa ocha ya di short mana sara mbara…”
“Ma o nwere big muscles!
“No! Yana min kyau! Cute!”
Carmy: “Uh, do… do they like me?”
Sydney: “Oh, they love you. They’re plotting to steal you away from me.”
“Big nose too!”
Carmy: “well… okay, that was English.”
Little cousin, David, walks up to Carmen as he chops vegetables. Pulling a little stool over and standing at his side, wordlessly. He stares first at Carmen himself then the vegetables the white man cuts so effortlessly. Little sticky fingers rise and reach for the knife and Carmen just laughs as he attempts to pry it from much larger stronger hands.
“Can I see?” David asks, confused on why his big cousins boyfriends thinks he’s so funny.
“Unfortunately, this is a knife. Too heavy and sharp for you to use.”
David is heavily offended that he is being underestimated. “I can chop! I chop for Mama everyday!”
“David!” He heard said Mama begins to scold him, “You raise your voice at guests?” David begins to tear up.
“Not at all, Auntie.” Carmen inserts, David cut off from his whine. “He’s just asking if he can help me cut vegetables. I didn’t know he had experience.”
David’s mother melts immediately and confirms that yes, David does chop carrots and garlic for her. “Oh, He’s very smart! Knows how to hold it and everything!”
So Carmen lets David help him ‘chop chop’ keeping a steady hand in his as the little boy is taught new techniques and tricks.
By day’s end, he is smitten with his new weird looking older cousin and makes it plain by crying when it’s time to part. Sydney is so proud that she lets him parade around as the new favorite cousin.
>> And Sydney meeting a couple other “less-than-woke” Berzattos? Older Italian people setting eyes on their introverted little nephew’s girlfriend?
“Che bellezza!” A drunk uncle of his screams almost immediately before Carmen can get her name out.
“Gambe piuttosto lunghe… You guys will have such cute babies!”
“Oh, mixed babies are the cutest!” Donna throws in.
“Ma…” Carmy warns.
“Oh, you’re so WOKE, Carmen. Chill out! She’s givin’ her a compliment!” His Uncle says before turning back to the game.
“Ya mother’s right, Carmen! See, my sista has the cutest little grandchildren! Remember little Joey, Carmen? He went and found himself a black girl too!”
Carmy: “Okay, Aunt Glo, thank you. Can we move o-“
“And they have just beautiful little caramel children! And their hair! Ugh! Ricci e belli!”
Sydney is just nodding and trying not to laugh at how mortified Carmy is. He looks over to her in apology, but none of these comments are particularly too inappropriate and they mean well.
“But she’s skinny…”
“Skin and bones! Let’s feed her then, come with me, sweetheart!”
Sydney: “O-oh, uh…” but her hand is captured and she’s being led into the kitchen to be fed by hand.
She tosses a help look to Carmy and he shrugs with a small smile.
“Hopefully this’ll make your hips wider… The Berzattos have large heads when they’re babies, unfortunately.”
Carmy: “Ma! Cut the baby talk!”
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Fin.
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ladythornofrivia · 7 days
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🍒 The Devil’s Tongue 🍒
Michael Gavey x Reader (PART TWO)
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summary: you transferred into Oxford after moving out from your country for a better change, and unexpectedly meeting Michael Gavey in a quiet library, leads to something more.
warnings: creepy vibes from michael gavey, reader being oblivious, stalking, michael being horny, p in v sex, loss of virginity, jealousy, misunderstandings, obsession, belt kink, panty kink, scent kink, voice kink, breeding kink, michael gavey being a smartass, michael gavey is horny for math, michael gavey is a smartass, clueless reader, nerdy yet hot michael, lust at first sight, sex in the library, sex on the table, kitchen sex, oral sex, cam girl, fingering, sex during tutoring session, reader teasing, reader being a dominatrix in bed, food porn.
a/n: i got sick from the trip. oops. enjoy the new chapter! oh, and the one where the reader is being shoved out of the elevator, that one is a true story, by the way. I was being shoved out of the elevator by this guy I met at the cruise—all because I didn’t give him the attention. not only that i got stood up twice--one on the hangout, the other on my 27th birthday. and he thinks it's weird that i like hotd and said ewan mitchell looks weird. good thing i don't have to see him again.
Somehow, to think you met up with Michael Gavey again in the library, now that Oliver Quick is gone. By gone, Oliver might have gotten bored of Michael Gavey, you assumed.
There was a party last night, and you didn’t attend. Not that you’re too good or above for the party; you just hated the noise at the moment. You wanted a different kind of ambience to set the mood. Needless to say, you earned a lot of cash on that night.
With moonlighting as a camgirl, things have gotten easier. If you haven’t left your parents, things would’ve been worse if they found out.
Despite the cruel years, it became a simple memory.
Sitting beside you, Michael offered another crunchie--delicious as always. It's a good pair with hot cup of joe to pair with the sweet chocolate. Although you learned that Michael hated coffee, he'd rather prefer tea, a tea that tasted bland to you. You needed something strong--Starbucks would've been great, but a coffee from Oxford? You can't pass up to try the flavor of coffee from another country you've set yourself in.
Missing the opportunity would be as stupid--all opportunities have been unlocked, all thanks to you being as a famous camgirl. My, oh my, you are moonlighting as a naughty girl in bed time--no parents constantly sneaking in being nosy as hell. You did lie to them--half-lie--by claiming that you have been acting nuts at night--doing all the prayers and bible study sessions, which is a total fucking lie.
You never liked bible studies or prayers before Sundays. It's a hassling lifestyle to live in--to live so virtuously while shaming everyone's lifestyle who aren't religious.
People with an aspect of a pretentious goody-two-shoes was the last thing you need. Oliver Quick is a goody two-shoes; the boy obsessed with math has caught your eye, plain and simple. A bit eccentric, but sexually frustrated, as you guessed before the moment your eyes met his baby blues.
Three weeks later, the magical aspect of Oxford hasn't begun.
"Crunchie," a voice said, tingling your skin and poked at one side of your waist with a slight tickle.
Beside you, Michael Gavey showed up with a slight grin on his face, oddly satisfied this morning.
Who the hell smiles in the morning?
"Not an early riser, I see," he commented.
His pleasant tone prickled in between your thighs.
"Oh yeah, fine and dandy--needed a cup of coffee," you said, grouchy. "I was studying all night--got the assignment wrong."
"What kind of assignment?"
"It's, um, it's an English essay," you lied, pen twirled between your agitated fingers. "This professor is really getting on my nerves when it comes to the essay. Acting all superior and shit--telling me I keep getting my annotations wrong and that I misinterpreted the meaning of the symbolism and theme in the story. I hate pretentious professors like that. No matter where I go, some things never change. They always have favoritism, it's fucking weird."
Michael chuckled. "Perhaps you have been partying?"
"Partying? Please, I needed peace and quiet for some alone time to concentrate on my studies. If I want to have a good future, I had to have at least a C or B. I fucked up bad."
Seems like the lie went smoothly as always.
"So, have you been at the party last night? Sneaking in since you didn't get your invite?" you asked.
Michael placed his hand over his cheek, nearly covering his lips. "I stayed in my dorm."
"Ah, doing math homework, I assume? Anything math related? Science into the mix, maybe."
Michael stayed quiet.
"I'm not really into math. I thought it's confusing," you commented.
Michael chortled. "Perhaps I could tutor you this afternoon. Usually I don't like teaching the numbing idiots of the subject matter. One guy was staring at the girl’s tits while doing times tables. Times tables! Need them to fuck off and do something valuable for once!”
You stopped what you're doing and glanced at him. And it clicked an idea into your head.
“Am I also the numbing idiot?”
He shook his head. “You might be, if you are. These knuckleheads at the library, all they’ve done useless flirting, not studying.”
“That’s what library is for, Michael. To study. No harm in a little flirting.”
Come to think of it, Michael at the library with you sounds nice.
He smiled a little, though not in a friendly way.
"Sure," you said, eating the half crunchie. "Why not? Teach me, so I could get better grades. Life is already hard enough as it is. So got any crunchy to start the session? It will take a while.”
~~~
For the past an hour or two, Michael tutored you. Although as excruciating painful to hear numbers and equations with letters, you couldn’t help but to stare at the cute nerd. Ah, a cutely frustrated nerd, maybe. His curlish dirty blond hair, thick framed glasses and his smile when he talks about math, these thoughts never spare you freedom. You are trapped, trapped by thirst that needed to be quenched.
With your cherry-red boots and skirt and a rosy pink lace top, you opt to show your cleavage by tucking your mini top downward, crossing your legs, coiled your apetite. With your hair flip, or hair twirls, biting your red lips, you were hoping Michael would give a comment or two, but tutoring was his priority, but since you wanted his attention, asking questions about math and equations would definitely keep him on his seat. His eyes on you.
His cute nerdy glasses. His cheeky and toothy smile.
Masturbating seems to be an option, but what happens if that option is no longer helpful? You wanted an alternative approach.
Maybe masturbating in public would be nice, but you’re smarter than that.
But each time you attempt to flirt, he seemed clueless. But he did at one point had a crush on a news anchor. And so your mind mentally made an account.
Dear Diary,
Michael Gavey didn’t notice me. How the hell am I supposed to get his oblivious attention on me? I hope I don’t die as a lonely virgin. I’m a bad bitch; I just want to fuck him so badly, watching his glasses fog up and lips soak at my aching pussy, whimpering underneath me and my dominance.
Then it clicked you.
However, you knew right away of this information when he liked watching news—the news anchor. Although she has a kid, the green envy seared and punctured your belly.
Maturity is what men and guys want.
Though it didn’t stop you from chasing Michael’s attention. Days gone by when you try a different style. That is until you met this guy, a popular guy, who’s name you not care—who complimented and dubbed you as “the hottest girl in campus.”
An idea conjured; if you practice with a guy, maybe it would be easier to make the first move on Michael. Thus, you went along with his flirting, but at the end of the night, you felt sure you were ready, until he took you out in the hall, and make out with you. But you didn’t care, you didn’t want to kiss the dude, you wanted to kiss Michael.
You felt nothing in his erotic moves.
When he tried to get into your underwear, you shoved his hands away. Thus, the little adventure with the guy, and ended up shoving you out of the elevator.
It was a pathetic night.
Nonetheless, your camgirl starts within an hour or two—took a shower and dressed up as a sexy office worker, with fake smart glasses with your tight office shirt loosened two buttons for your cleavage to show, with pencil skirt and stockings and red bottom heels.
On the cam session, did a little roleplay, and with feral thirst, legs spread apart, ripping your stockings and reveal your wet pussy. At the thought of Michael, his face, his voice, two fingers inserted in your cunt, as your hips formed a gyration, moaning aloud.
Michael…
You nearly screamed his name, but your climax came quicker.
All the comments flooded in, and more cash has stocked into your bank account.
You wondered if chasing Michael was even worth it. Hopefully one of these days, he’ll finally notice you.
~~~
Michael shoved in a few cash onto your new stream. Dressing up as a news anchor or an office lady, he found himself turned on, how your skin was gleaming with arousal, office glasses crooked from humping and gyrating, grinding your hips in fast pace like a feral beast that you hid beneath all the girlish and cherry red clothing, a clothing that outlined your perfect hips and perfect waist.
A horny devil.
He pretended his hand is your hand, your mouth, your throbbing, wet cunt, tightened around his bulging cock. The way he fisted his cock so much he couldn’t stand watching you flirting with that stupid boy.
Michael had a plan and he couldn’t wait to be inside you, but the question is…
When?
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saelique · 4 months
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DAZAI OSAMU AS A FATHER
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✦ — ft. the agency + chuuya ! ✦ — cw : fluffy fluff with a tinge of angst :0 uh- broken humour and bad writing :( english is not my first language ! uh. dazai gets beat up by chuuya, feminine pet names so reader is female :3 NOT PROOFREAD !
feel like he would wanna have one girl and one boy :0 [s/n] -> son’s name [d/n] -> daughter’s name! they’ll be twins cause why not? :V 
he’s kinda of a 50/50. not the best but he’s definitely trying so that’s a point ! 
he would most likely would be the fun parent. always taking your kids out to play, letting them play with his hair and tying them up in silly hairstyles, or maybe just plain causes chaos with them. 
he would sooo take them to the agency to bother kunikida (failed) and to also take them to visit the rest of the agency members and staff of course! 
atsushi absolutely adores them! so that’s why you usually drop off [s/n] and [d/n] at his place. kyouka also helps with taking care the two of them which is the sweetest thing ever ! 
ranpo and yosano are like the fun uncle and aunts ! basically they take your kids out to everywhere. even missions. so that’s why they do get scolded by you quite often. but as long as they have fun and with the fact that they’re most definitely safe, why not just let them do it? (no one can get hurt with yosano’s ability soo no casualties!) 
mmm kunikida is the so very strict uncle that secretly cares for them. it’s super heartwarming to see him interacting with [s/n] since apparently your son likes him the most for some weird reason. and of course, dazai always complains and whines about it. which is hilarious to you. considering [s/n]’s personality was very similar to dazai’s. 
kenji is like a older brother figure to them! he even teaches [s/n] and [d/n] how to plant crops, etc. etc. but unfortunately they don’t really 100% listen to him. But kenji doesn’t mind at all! In fact, he even takes them out to the fields to have fun. 
naomi and tanizaki…well…your kids definitely think they’re weird. no offense! they just…tend to…y’know..
fukuzawa and your daughter are super close! sometimes you think you would get diabetes from seeing them together. he would always teach her how to play chess, and in turn [d/n] tells him about what she learned recently in school! 
and of course, chuuya knows all about them! despite not even meeting them! all thanks to dazai! of course, he’s happy for his ex partner. but sometimes it just gets too annoying so don’t mind it when your husband comes back home bruised and beaten, yeah?
“ouch- ouch-ow! lets just- ow!” Dazai repeatedly winces dramatically when you try and clean his wounds with a wet cloth, dabbing it on his skin as gently as possible.  “you wouldn’t have to go through this if you just didn’t bother nakahara y’know?” you chuckle, “awww..but I wanted to tell him how [s/n] beat the living daylights out of a classmate that was annoying him :(“ you pause your movements, obviously in shock at what dazai just said.  “[s/n] did what?” you asked, widening yours eyes before hitting your (stupidly loveable) husband in the head with the wet cloth, water splattered onto his clothes and hair. “ouch!” “I can’t believe you never told me! how could you?!” “dont worry! i took him out for ice cream!” “that’s not what I meant!” 
ahem. anyways! 
please please please don’t let dazai and your kids in the kitchen. they’ll practically burn it down to ashes without your supervision. and if they didn’t burn it down, the food would most likely taste horrendous. with horrible food combos. 
but alas, you’re already used to their shenanigans. what could you do? 
”I’m ba-what is this?” you froze at the sight of a black gooey looking dish, you had just returned from the agency to do something important and what you came home to was two children and a grown adult man stained with eggs, flour, etc. and a plate of suspicious food.  “we made it for you mama!” your son exclaims happily while your daughter and husband nods. “…I’m not hungry right now.” you laugh awkwardly, trying to escape from eating whatever that was. “come on honey, it wouldn’t hurt by having a taste right? aaahh…” your husband takes a spoon, scoops some up and raises it to your mouth, seemingly enjoying the petrified face on you. “…fine..” you slightly wince when you say that, regretting for agreeing to eat what they made and without warning, dazai shoves the whole spoonful of food into your mouth as you splutter. after you somehow manage to swallow it all, clasping your hand over your mouth, you look up to see the trio very very…happy somehow.  imaginary flowers and sparkles seem to shine about them. dazai was especially happy…goodness. he was the mastermind wasnt he? “mama! how did it taste?” [s/n] rushes towards you and looks up at you, a puppy expression on his face as you gulp. “v-very nice sweetheart.” you smile at him, still fighting against the urge to throw up all the contents. “Yay!” he cheered, running around the room “we did it!“ “haha.. no wonder ranpo told me to not go home yet..” you mumbled the last bit. “what was that, belladonna?” “nothing!” 
…you got food poisoning in the end. not suprising at all. but whnever dazai offered to cook, you promptly tell him that you already ordered takeout. 
and dazai would be so so so so so sweet with the twins when it’s their bedtime. like- he would literally hum a melody or read a story, whatever they like. and it just usually makes you chuckle at the sight of how gentle he was with them. 
he definitely is really cautious with them since he’s always scared that they’ll slip away. same with you though, that’s why he likes to hug you like a koala when the two of you are asleep.
and when [s/n] or [d/n] has nightmares? he would try his best to soothe them, sometimes ending up falling asleep in their room on the floor. 
but in the end, everything is peaceful and happy. 
even though dazai may be far, far from perfect, there’s no one else you’d rather to be the father of your children ♡
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it’s done ! :D yay! ‘m rlly srry for all the grammar + my English since it’s bad aaahhh T^T *sobs* but I hope u liked it <3 thank u for reading !! (tried my best to not make this too long) I suck at endings :( 
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macfrog · 11 months
Text
bloodstream cowboy like me chapter seven
part seven of cowboy like me 🤠 feel free to grab parts i-vi (and more!) over on my masterlist for all ur joel miller needs. can you tell i had my period when i wrote this...? it's just a big ol' hormonal, needy MESS please don't take it seriously you'll ruin my street cred as a cynic
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pairing: dbf!joel x fem!reader
summary: you’re on your period and want attention, kisses, and pain medicine from joel. that’s all
warnings: 18+ (minors dni!!!) a whole lotta fluff. like, sickly sweet fluff. mention of periods/cramps/blood, one tiny mention of pregnancy, put mdni since there are mentions of sex & sexual themes but no actual sex, age gap (reader is 23, joel is 48), bit of cursing, and a pop-tart is destroyed :( rip lil guy
word count: 3.8k
series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist
In an instant, you want to grind into him, drag your hips along the fabric of his boxers, push him. Rile him up. Make him pine. Make him beg. What the fuck would you even do, anyway? Sex? It’s not like that’s your easiest option right now – definitely not a tidy one. But it doesn’t stop you from picturing it, now that you brought it up. Is Joel picturing it, too? He’s tracing every inch of your face with his stare, soft, but knowing. He knows exactly what’s going through your fucking mind. The way his boxers start to swell against the inside of your thigh gives it away that it’s running through his, too.
It’s been a week since you slept with Joel for the first time. Realistically, waking up in a foul mood to cramps should’ve been some sort of tiny celebration. Yay, I’m not pregnant. But the ache in your tummy, the weight of your limbs as you heave yourself around the house, the sobbing at any minor inconvenience, doesn’t feel so much like a celebration as it does a punishment.
You’d dragged yourself from bed, clutching your belly, and hobbled downstairs. Your dad left for work a couple hours ago; the slam of the front door woke you. Does he always have to be so fucking loud? You’d struggled to get back to sleep, knees tucked under your chin.
You take a blanket from the couch and wrap it around your shoulders, bunching it up at your belly to soothe the pain, and begin raking the cupboards for food. For crappy, sugary, junk food.
When you turn toward the toaster and bump your hip into the corner of the kitchen island, sending the Pop-Tart in your hand tumbling to the ground, you burst into tears and dial his number.
He answers on the second ring.
“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” he coos in response to your wailing.
“Joel, I– my fuckin’ Pop-Tart just flew out of my hand!”
He’s quiet for a beat. “Your– Say that again, baby?”
What you respond with isn’t even intelligible. You know it. It only makes you sob more. Well, that, and looking down at the crumbled pastry on your kitchen floor.
Joel spends the next five minutes calming you down, shushing down the line and trying to get you to speak in plain English. Eventually, you take a deep breath and speak clearly between gasps.
“I – am on – my period. I – got – my – period.”
“Ah,” he muses. “That makes a lot more sense, kid.”
You burst into tears again.
“Hey, hey,” he’s laughing now, “no, baby, it’s okay. It’s okay. Look, I got a free house today – Sarah’s out all day. I ain’t workin’, either. How about you jump in the car and come over? We can lay in bed all day and I can make you feel better. How’s that sound?”
You sniff and mumble a quiet, “Good”.
Joel tells you to head on over once you’re ready. You throw a sweatshirt over your shoulders, slip into comfortable shoes, and get straight into the car. When you pull up outside, he’s already standing at the front door.
Just the sight of him makes you weep. Leaning against the porch post, one hand hooked around his belt. You get out, hunched over with the pain below your belly button, and waddle over to him.
“C’mere, sweet girl,” he whispers as he wraps an arm around you, basically pulling you up the steps to him. “Gonna get you nice and comfortable, okay?”
You lean into his chest and he kisses your head, closing the door softly behind you.
“Upstairs,” he instructs.
You silently obey and make for his bedroom, shuffling your feet along the carpet. When Joel enters the room a few minutes after you, you’re buried in the middle of his bed amongst a sea of pillows and blankets.
“Feelin’ alright?”
“Ish.”
He has a mug of tea in one hand, a box of pain meds in the other, and a hot pack draped over his arm. He sets the tea down on your nightstand, hands you the hot pack (which you immediately lay across your stomach), and offers you the pain meds.
“Water?” you ask, looking up at him with a petted lip.
“I brought tea.” He nods at the mug.
“I can’t take pills with hot tea,” you whisper.
He gives you an affectionate smile and shakes his head. “You’re lucky I care about you s’much.” He leaves the room, calling back, “Put those puppy-dog eyes away!”
You smile smugly to yourself and shimmy deeper into Joel’s pillows. He returns moments later with a glass of water.
“Your highness,” he grumbles as he sets it down for you. Then he pulls a small blue packet from under his elbow.
“Don’t have much round here, bein’ on my own mosta the time,” he admits, sliding it onto the nightstand, “found these in Sarah’s bathroom. They do?”
You smile, eyes scanning over the Always logo. “They’re great.”
The edges of Joel’s mouth lift, proud, like he reckons he’s outdone himself.
You gulp a couple of painkillers down and settle back into bed, heat pad already working its magic.
Joel lifts his side of the comforter up to climb in beside you, but you stretch an arm out.
“Uh-uh.”
“Huh?”
“Not in your jeans. Are we animals?”
He peers down at himself. “The hell am I s’posed to wear?”
“You don’t have sweatpants?”
“I’m supposed to change into my sweatpants just to cuddle?”
“Who the hell lounges around the house on their day off in jeans, anyway, weirdo?”
He clicks his teeth. “You’re talkin’ awful big for someone meant to be in pain, y’know,” he huffs as he unbuttons his jeans and hauls them down his legs. “T-shirt okay?”
“T-shirt’s fine.”
In just his tee, boxers and socks, he climbs in alongside you, snakes his arms around you, and slots his thigh between yours the way he always does. It calms you instantly: his warmth, the sound of his heart beating into your ear, his chest rising and falling with his breathing.
“You okay, sweet girl?” Joel mumbles into your hair.
“Mhm,” you reply, feeling yourself dropping off. “Sleepy.”
He runs a hand under the hem of your sweatshirt and up your bare back, rubbing circles gently where the pain is. You’re asleep within minutes.
----------
You stir to the distant sound of voices. Still enveloped in Joel’s arms, you flutter your eyes open slowly, and look up to his face, lit blue by the TV. He’s watching ESPN.
His eyes dance along the screen, following the players running. His beard, thick, dark, gray and white spotted along his chin, disturbed as he runs his fingers through it. His skin, marked by the sun, by time, by fine lines and dimples at the corners of his mouth.
The Joel you’ve known your whole life – grumbling, head dipped, brows close together; his rough hands and his worn jeans, his awkward squeezes in place of hugs…he doesn’t exist anymore. He’s replaced by this new Joel: kind, warm, approachable. Like you can finally see him, finally get to know him.
The Joel who doesn’t think twice about taking you in his arms, isn’t concerned with how you’ll react. Just knows you’ll fall into him any which way his hands touch you. The Joel who can have you bent double under him, panting his name, and the same Joel who can lull you to sleep with nothing but his scent and his thumb drawing lazy circles on your skin.
The Joel who makes you want to call him your Joel, like he’s made only for you. He does these things only for you. He’s different for you.
Suddenly you feel shy. Realizing that this is the first time he’s seen you like this – vulnerable, in pain. Hurting. And then realizing that he didn’t miss a beat; just swept you up in his arms and bundled you into his bed. Made you comfortable. Made you safe.
You swallow your heart back into your chest. For a second, you almost felt…something. A shift. Something new. A problem arising.
Joel glances down, notices you watching him, and mutes the anchors’ voices.
“Welcome back,” he whispers, giving you a little squeeze. “Better?”
“Mhm. Thanks.”
“I was gonna order a pizza, if you wanted.”
He reads your mind again. Just the thought of a fatty, greasy slab of dough with fatty, greasy cheese all over it is enough to make you salivate.
“Pizza sounds good.”
Joel, wanting to stay near you, and also not wanting to have to get up, picks up his phone and orders it from bed. You sigh as he pulls you back in and sinks lower into the pillows, turning the volume up.
You snuggle your head into the crook of his neck, where it fits perfectly. Made for you. Joel’s arm cradles around your back, sneaking under the bottom of your sweatshirt to hold your hip, keeping your body pressed against his. Your fingers trace shapes on his shirt, lids closing over with each blink.
Out of every sport in America, baseball is the one you’re interested in the least. Growing up with a diehard Rangers fan for a father will do that to you. Every week: Rangers game. Every conversation he had with Joel: Rangers. Every time the TV was switched on: Rangers talk.
You learned to tune it out when he’d rant over dinner, either to you, or into his phone, or to Joel. You’d sit back in your chair and count the crows resting on Marcia’s rooftop. Couple times Joel would kick your leg under the table and ask how school was goin’, when you’re flying back, but as soon as your answer was done your dad would steer the conversation back to baseball.
It bored you at best. Mostly it just made you huff and turn on your heel, back the way you came. Dodging Rangers talk like it was a bad smell.
This time, you doze in and out of sleep, relaxing with the rise and fall of Joel’s chest, his fingers playing with yours. The anchors push you off, then wake you back up with their raised voices as they disagree on some play, some team, some result.
You could lie here forever and never complain. Well, maybe not forever. You care about Joel a lot, but even you have your limits.
You nudge him with your head.
“Yep?”
“Who’s the dude in the blue polo?”
“That’s a coach.”
“He’s kinda cute.”
“Not my type.”
“Are we gonna watch ESPN all day?”
Joel hands you the remote. “Take your pick, darlin’.”
You begin surfing through the channels, eyes scanning for something to take your mind off the pain slowly returning between your legs. You’re barely two pages through when the doorbell rings.
Joel softly slides out from underneath you and throws his jeans on, heading downstairs where you hear him thank the delivery guy, hand him the money, and shut the door again.
“You still good with your water, or you want soda?” he calls upstairs.
“Soda, please!”
He brings up a bottle for you to share. You pull yourself up to rest against the headboard, and Joel sits the pizza between you two.
“You gotta be kiddin’ me,” he whispers, looking up at the TV.
“Nope!” you reply, mouth full of delicious pepperoni pizza.
“Grey’s Anatomy?”
“You ain’t seen it?”
He hands you a look. Do I look like the type of guy who’s seen Grey’s Anatomy?
You giggle. “Alright, so: Meredith was datin’ this dude Derek – surgeon at the hospital, he’s so hot–” Joel raises his eyebrows, “…but he wouldn’t tell her a thing about his past. Then, she’s waitin’ for him in the lobby,” you take another bite of pizza, “and thish woman walksh over to ‘em,” gulp, “and says she’s Derek’s wife!”
He’s hanging on to every word you say, not ‘cause he actually gives a crap about Meredith and Derek, but because you do. He’s lying propped up on his elbow, watching you with doting eyes as you catch him up on the storyline of the show, smirk slowly growing on his lips.
“You gonna eat the pizza?”
You snap him out of his daydream. “Huh?”
“You ain’t touched it.”
“Oh, yeah,” he says, taking a slice. “Was just listenin’ to you.”
You tuck your chin into your shoulder and he gives your cheek a gentle squeeze, then you both turn your attention to the TV.
You spend the next couple of hours pausing the show to catch Joel up – “So Meredith ain’t into this George?” “No, he’s just a friend.” “But he loves her?” “Yep.” “And they slept together?” “Uhuh.” “That’s…complicated.” – and chatting over the more boring parts.
You’re only a couple episodes in when you finish the pizza. Joel lets you have the last slice, “Seein’ as you’re my little invalid for the day,” he says. He’d have given you the last slice whether you were ill or not, though, and you know it.
When Joel gets up to take the empty box downstairs, you slip out from under the covers to the bathroom. You sit down, underwear between your legs, and freeze.
Fuck.
Your sanitary pad is soaked through, scarlet with blood, the lining of your underwear the color of rust. You run your thumb along the fabric; it’s still damp. Lifting your top, you notice similar stains on the insides of your thighs, at the very top.
Fuuuck.
“You okay, baby?” Joel’s voice calls from the other side of the door.
“I’m…Yeah, I’m good. Uh, Joel?”
“Uhuh?”
“Could you hand me that pack of sanitary pads?”
He mumbles Sure, his shadow retreats, then the door inches open and his wrist sneaks through the gap, holding the pads out. You take it sheepishly and begin to peel the pad from your underwear, stopping when it reveals more blood stained into the fabric, this time a brighter red. Fresher. You groan, shutting your eyes and tapping the packet against your forehead.
“You sure you’re alright?” Joel asks again, this time from further away.
You’re almost doubled over on the toilet, pain back in full-throttle, voice muffled by the sleeves of your sweatshirt. “I’m fine,” you croak.
The door slowly falls open and Joel’s figure stands in the slit of light. “Kid,” he beckons, and you look up. His expression is normal, if a little concerned; but he doesn’t seem embarrassed to ask, “You need a change of underwear?”
Your face flushes and you wince, your head dropping into your hands, elbows resting on your knees. “It’s on the bed, isn’t it?”
“Might be, yeah. Sarah’ll have somethin’, sure she wouldn’t mind if you…you know…”
“Ugh,” you sigh, still keeping your face from him.
Your period was never something you cared about, even growing up with just your dad. When you got your first one at twelve, he went out and stocked the bathroom with what you needed. Ain’t nothin’ to be ashamed of, hell, half the population deal with it. That’s what he’d said.
And you agreed. It’s just your body doing what it does, right?
Still, you can’t ignore the heat on your cheeks from the embarrassment of the guy you’re sleeping with seeing you hunched over on his toilet, underwear stained with blood, the same stain on his bedsheets. It’s just not your finest hour.
But Joel doesn’t seem to agree.
Not when he sets foot in the bathroom and crouches by your side, placing a kiss to your temple.
“Sorry,” you mumble.
He looks offended; his head jerks back to survey you. “The hell you sorry for? You ain’t got nothin’ to be sorry for, baby. Look,” his hand settles on your thigh, rubbing gently, “go find somethin’ to change into in Sarah’s room, get yourself cleaned up, I’ll change the bed. You’re fine.”
“’s not really romantic, is it?”
“I didn’t ask you to come here to be romantic,” he holds your head, “I asked you here to take care of you. Now go.”
He helps you to your feet and you wander off down the hall toward Sarah’s room. You guys grew up together, you’re close enough that she’d probably slap your arm for even asking to borrow her clothes, especially when you need it most right now.
Still, you whisper an apology as you rake through her closet, and make a mental note to be extra nice to her next time you see her.
Once you’ve changed, feeling a lot better, you slip back into Joel’s room where he’s fixing up the clean bedsheets.
“Done?”
You nod, and he takes your underwear from your hands and tosses it onto the pile of sheets by his laundry basket. See? No big deal. He takes your bicep and wraps his arms around you, nose nuzzling into your hair, breathing you in.
You lift your chin and look up at him, a gleam in your eye. Thank you. He furrows his brows and gives his head a quick shake. No need to thank me.
Joel motions for you to get back into bed, where he lays back and holds his arms out for you to relax on his chest again, but you’re staring at his lips. You lean in and kiss him softly, the only thing you can think to offer him after taking care of you and being so sweet all day.
He returns it, one hand coming up to the back of your head, the other finding home on your hip. You roll back and pull his weight over your body, linking your arms behind his neck. Your thighs close around his waist and his hand runs down your bare leg.
The kiss deepens, both of you coming up for air, just to immediately fall back into one another, tongues slipping in and out of each other’s mouths.
As Joel’s hands explore the skin under your top, massaging and rubbing across your stomach, you begin to worry.
In your experience, kissing always leads to more. You’ve never been with a guy who doesn’t expect sex whenever you lay a hand on him. This feels so good, though, and you don’t want it to stop.
Still, you pull back and quickly whisper, “We can’t…you know.”
“I know. We won’t.” Joel is matter-of-fact. This ain’t a thing to him.
“I mean, we can. People do that – it’s supposed to feel better, or something? I think it helps with the cramps. I’ve never done it before, though.” You’re talking too quick, saying too much. Joel’s just watching you, letting you go on, smiling at you.
“Baby. We won’t.”
Your tongue knots. “We won’t?”
He breathes a laugh. “No, we’re just kissing. We’re not gonna do anything you don’t want. Just tryna make you feel better.”
“I’m not sayin’ I don’t wanna, I always wanna– Well, you know. I like it when we do it. I’m just saying it can get messy, you know?”
He’s grinning at you again. That fucking grin. That You’re being adorable right now grin that makes your heart skip.
Your cheeks flush with embarrassment, but Joel reassures you when he lowers his head again and his lips find yours.
Your head tilts as you allow him access to your neck; his favorite place to leave marks. To show everyone, whether they know it or not, that you’re his. You fold, head rolling back onto the pillow as he bites a bruise into your sensitive skin.
Joel pulls away, releasing your neck from between his teeth, and you stare at each other a moment.
Something flickers across his eyes; his jaw jerks as if he’s about to open his mouth and speak. As quickly as you notice it, it disappears. He stops himself.
You run a finger along his bottom lip, and he kisses it lightly.
Between your legs, your center pressed to his, he twitches. Sparks to life. Same thing that sparks in you, though you don’t know where to put it. You don’t know how to undo it.
In an instant, you want to grind into him, drag your hips along the fabric of his boxers, push him. Rile him up. Make him pine. Make him beg.
What the fuck would you even do, anyway? Sex? It’s not like that’s your easiest option right now – definitely not a tidy one. But it doesn’t stop you from picturing it, now that you brought it up. Is Joel picturing it, too?
He’s tracing every inch of your face with his stare, soft, but knowing. He knows exactly what’s going through your fucking mind. The way his boxers start to swell against the inside of your thigh gives it away that it’s running through his, too.
And then his ringtone breaks apart the moment.
“Sorry, kid,” he groans, leaning over to retrieve it. “Hello?”
You recognize your dad’s voice instantly. He has no volume control where phone calls are concerned.
“Joel, you seen my daughter? I got home and she wasn’t here, and I can’t get a hold of ‘er.”
You scramble to find your phone amongst the bedsheets. When your hands find it, you hold it up to show Joel eight missed calls over the course of the five hours you’ve spent here. He scrunches up his nose in response.
“I ain’t seen her. I’ll try callin’ her, she’s probably just out and about.”
“Thanks, bud. She won’t have gone far, just she usually has her cell on her.”
Joel promises to call you before hanging up, and you sit back, slowly closing your eyes with a sigh.
“Now.” Joel leans into you, resting his head against yours. “I’m gonna call you, and you’re either not gonna answer – ‘cause you ain’t been answerin’ your dad – and he’s gonna worry more; or, you will answer me, I’ll call ‘im back, and he’ll wonder why you been ignorin’ him. Or…” He trails off.
“…Or, I go home and act like I ain’t seen his calls, tell him I’m sorry, and he’s none the wiser.”
“Hm.” He nods once, lips folded inward.
“I don’t wanna go,” you whimper, sliding down the headboard and resting your head against Joel’s shoulder.
“I know, darlin’. But we had our fun.” He takes your hand in his, lacing his fingers through yours. “I hope I made you feel better.”
“You did,” you whisper back. In more ways than one; sure, he fed you painkillers and rubbed where you were hurting, but that isn’t all there is to it, right?
The last time you saw each other, he had you propped on the kitchen counter, legs spread, begging for him to let you cum. Today feels as much about making you feel better because of that, as it does making you feel better because of your period. Today feels like Joel telling you he cares about you past the orgasms y’all give each other.
Message received. Even though it makes you dizzy when you think too much about it.
Joel takes your hand and places a kiss to it.
“Hey,” he mumbles against your knuckles, “me ‘n your dad are going to Costco on Saturday to get stuff for this…garden party Sarah’s wantin’. You wanna come?”
“Will you hold my hand and kiss me when I want again?”
He breathes a laugh. “I will when your dad ain’t lookin’.”
“I’m in.”
----------
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natsaffection · 1 year
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Cure. | N. Romanoff
Natasha Romanoff x Younger!Reader
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MINORS DNI!!! (18+!)
Summary: You got infected with the sex pollen and a red haired ..acquaintance offers to help you.
warnings: Age gap (N=32 | r= 20), Masturbation, fingering (r receiving), oral (r receiving), strap on (r receiving)
Word count: 2,1k
A/N: Here's part from my ongoing fic ( I hate you! ) that I'm continuing and wanted to share!! :v Please have in mind that English is not my first language <33
As usual, you were lost in thoughts and again didn't notice where your head was taking you. Until you stood in front of Bruce's lab. You were about to go on, when something grabbed you. So you look around and finally go inside.
It was large and very plain. Also, of course white..what does that color always have to do with it? "Hey, Y/N, can I help you with something?" Bruce's voice startled you "No..Just curious." Bruce smiled and continued to play with a device in his hand. As he went back to his work, you continue to look around. You have to admit Bruce is pretty darn organizational and everything has a label, its own container and so on. Except...this one certain piece. It had a sort of orange glow to it and yes that only attracted curious people like you, "Hey Bruce what's this?" You touch it and when you see Bruce face, "O-Oh, don't!" a pulling stench came from the jar, and you drop it and with your luck you stand right in the cloud of the smell. You cough a few times and step aside, "What the hell is that!" Bruce slowly walked up to you, "Oh god..Uhm..How are you..feeling?"
How should you be feeling? You stink to no end now, "Other than the smell, fine. Why?" Bruce holds his hand over his mouth, and you see him thinking. "Bruce, what's going on? What is that thing I inhaled!" Are you going to die? Is that how you're going to die?! He kept coming at you, "I'm so sorry. I-"
"Now tell me what's going on, Bruce, or I'll..."
"You've been infected with sex pollen!" he interrupted you, looking deep into your eyes. However, you only understood the word sex and infected, "W-WHAT?! What does that mean, infected? With what, a-and how long is this going to last now?" You should have stayed in bed...
And you were now. Just with a bit of a shocked face. Bruce explained to you exactly what it means to be infected with it and your head stopped. You asked how you could get rid of it, and Bruce had to stifle a laugh. And now here you are...sweaty, hot and...horny. You had been trying for several minutes, but you couldn't get it off. Is it hormones, or why could you start crying at any time? You're so damn needy, you couldn't think straight,
"My door is always open for that... to talk, I mean, for other things, too."
Your eyes widened. Hell no. No, no, no..She's the last person you would ask for something like that! Bruce must have made a mistake, this will go away on its own..So you lay down on your side and try to sleep. But after many hours, from turning over, to throwing the pillow away, you couldn't. You look at your air conditioner and whimper as you see it set to max. Eventually you give up on it and get up to go to the kitchen. You need ice cubes, liters of water, and Natasha.
Wait what?
When you get to the kitchen, you see how she also just made herself something to eat. You curse inside and go to the fridge anyway, "Hey..." Fuck, now your body is going into high gear again. "H-Hi..." What the fuck was that!!! Why do you sound so- "Are you okay?"
Just getting the water, just getting the water!
"You're really bad at lying, that needs to be mentioned." She calmly continues eating her food, "So what's the deal." Why does her voice have so much inpact on your body? You're thinking desperately, and you just couldn't take it anymore, "Bruce has some sex pollen in his fucking lab for fuck's sake and I inhaled that shit, okay?!" Don't be embarrassed. She's a woman, and you're a woman, so what could go wrong?
"I can help you with that if you want..." If you had drunk your water, it would be on the floor now, "What?" You misheard. Natasha set her bowl aside and leaned forward further, "Believe me when I tell you that it will only go away if a second person helps you with it. I speak from experience..." She tries to smile slightly, but knew how that must sound, "W-Who helped you?"
"It doesn't matter, so?"
You blink several times, "N-No..No! That- We can't do that! I'll do it-"
"I don't want to force you Y/n, but you're just getting started. You don't want to get to the end of the line, really." You keep looking at her. She really means it..No!
You grab your stuff and walk past her. Once in the room, you walked a bit, but the more you thought about it, the worse it got. Your tingling in your stomach is killing you and the heat even further down..Your fingers moved back down, started rubbing your clit. Your other hand reached for your breast, and you start stimulating your nipple as well. "F-Fuck..." You rub your knuckles more against your clit, circular motions sending you into spasms. Your legs start twitching, and you keep trying to concentrate until all the sensation disappeared. You start whimpering and trying to fight it, but it was no use. You were back to zero.
You had tried two more times, but instead of it getting better, it got so much worse that you couldn't take it anymore. So you get up and go over to the one who gave you the offer. You knock and a little later she opened up and grinned at you, "told you."
"Shut up and now help me, please..." She opens the door further and you go inside. You look around and then turn to her, "So..How do-"
Natasha was on you like a gazelle. She attacked your neck immediately, and you had to laugh. She can definitely save the foreplay, "Please fuck me now!" She continued a few more kisses on your neck until she looked at you, "Wow, where do you get words like that, huh, little girl? But before. I need you to answer one thing for me,“ The look she had and how she looked down at you gave your confirmation again that it wasn't a mistake to come here, fuck you could already feel it... "Is this your first time?" You were already expecting that, "No." She looks deeply at you to check for a lie, but when she found nothing, "Don't worry about your problem," She put a hand on your chest and pushes you backwards to her bed. As you lay on it, she climbs over you, "Besides..the best part are not finished in a hurry." She goes back to your neck and helps you take off your shirt. When that was finally on the floor, she wandered down,
Your shoulder, your chest, your belly, everything she touched with her mouth and the heat you already had got worse and worse, "P-Please, do something..." You had waited enough today..She kept looking at you until finally She squatted in front of where you needed Her the most. Between your legs.
She didn't hesitate long and directly started making circular movements with her tongue. The sensation made you spasm right away, and you comply with her movements, "You're doing great..." Fuck, who is doing the best here?! Sex with dirty talk? 10/10! That Natasha was strong, you already knew, but when she turned you completely around in one movement was new. Or your head was already so fucked that you could no longer think. Now that you were lying on your stomach, Natasha had a much better angle and didn't take long to fill you with her fingers.
You couldn't help but moan into the pillow beneath you. This must have triggered something in Natasha as she suddenly climbed onto the bed, reached under your belly and leaned into you, "Don't hide those beautiful noises from me... "A-Ah! F-fuck!" It was too much at once, and you try to hold on somewhere, but you found nothing but her arm. Natasha grunt as she felt your nails in her wrist and that propelled her forward. She went in deeper and managed to put her thumb on your clit as well.
The only thing that held you now was Natasha. That was also the only thing you could think about, "I feel it getting tighter..." The way she whispered that in your ear made you finish and let out everything you had. She helped you ride out the orgasm and then gently laid you down on the pillows. You were trying to catch your breath when you noticed Natasha getting up and leaving. You were already getting ready to leave, but a little later she came back with a strap in her hand, "Is that okay if I take you with this?" You look at her blurry, "Fuck..hell yes.."
She clicked her tongue and pulled out to put the strap on. When She was done, She came over you again. To your surprise, She took your face and turned it towards Her to give you a kiss. She probably took that as a distraction, since she was filling you with her cock at the same time. You moaned into her, and she swallowed most of your sounds, but when she hit a certain spot, you throw your head back. "Found it, hmm?" You were afraid she would stop, so you started nodding vigorously, "Yes, Yes! Right there, please!" Natasha leaned up and turned you around again, holding your hips to get a better grip. She then rammed into you like an animal and the bed started pounding against the wall,
"Th-This..Feels, Ahh!" All that could be heard in the room was your moans and the thud of your skin, and Natasha couldn't get enough. She turned you again and bent your whole body towards her, making you see stars, "So deep~“
"Yeah? Am I making you feel good, huh?" She grabbed one of your breasts and started massaging your nipples, making you twitch, "W-Wait, that's too-" you were cut off as Natasha gave you a certain thrust and ramming into you faster. She was about to finish and so were you, "I-I will!!!"
"Come on..Fuck, go ahead.." Natasha's thrusts became more uncontrolled, and she just rammed into you out of desperation until it clicked, and you moaned her name. This also brought Natasha into her orgasm and she collapsed all over you. She held herself up on her shoulders to look at you and shit, does she love that look you have on your face. "Wow, you really needed that..“Her tone was soft, and you close your eyes to keep that serene feeling, "You have..yeah..no idea..thanks..."
"Wait here." She rolled to the side to get up from the bed. You just thought to yourself 'I have nowhere to go right now anyway' but you let it stick. She was gone for a while until she came back with a fresh towel and a glass of water. She sat down at the edge and gave you the water. You thanked her and took it,
"So..." Natasha was the first to say anything again after a few minutes of silence, "Are you feeling better?" You knew she was asking it to get the mood back up. You couldn't hide the grin anymore, "Yeah..thanks again..I'll owe you."
"No you don't." Even Natasha noticed that this statement came way too fast. She continues to look at you and stands up again. You thought that was it and that it was the sign to go, but as you were about to get up as well, she came back with bedding, "Where are you going?" You were confused, "Um..I thought I was supposed to go?" Natasha rolled her eyes and put the bed stuff on her bed, "Ever heard of aftercare? And I hardly think you can walk two feet in this condition..." She's right...again.
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leafsbabe · 6 months
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Sidney Crosby - cozy (SMUT)
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Sid sneaking out of bed before dawn didn’t wake you. Neither did him getting ready or making his breakfast. In fact you were still asleep when he came back from training.
You looked cute, he could admit that. At some point you had rolled over onto his side and buried your face in his pillow, blankets piled high in your little nest.
He felt a little bad waking you from your slumber, but you couldn't spend all day sleeping. Sid spent a good while staring at the kitchen cupboard trying to figure out which one of your mugs he should pick before settling on a novelty one shaped like a pumpkin. The cat came running at the sound of the coffee machine, winding through his legs and yelling up at Sid. He opened another cupboard, one of the top ones you never reached for, and pulled out a suspiciously empty treat packet but for sneaking him a couple. 
By the time the complicated concoction you like to call coffee was done, he had curled up in his bed on the living room windowsill, watching fat raindrops roll down the glass. Sid looked at him before picking up the mugs — your fancy one and his plain one— and makig his way back to the bedroom.
He put the mugs down on his nightstand, opened a window to let the fresh air and the sound of rain in, and then slid back under the blankets with you. Sid could feel you cuddle up to him immediately. He didn't even need to do much. Petting your head one, two, three times was enough to have your blink awake, body contorting into a big stretch before you realize he was there. 
“Morning.” You mumbled before a yarn interrupted you. Cute.
“Close.” He pressed a kiss to the top of your head where his hand had been. “It’s just after 10.”
“Oh.”
Not wanting to see you upset right after waking up he leaned over to grab your mug. “Coffee?”
That brought a smile to your face. “Yes, please.”You happily accepted the mug, bringing it up to your face straight away. “Thank you.”
Sid loved moments like these. The gloomy weather, a good cup of coffee, you.
“Do you just want to spend the day in bed?”
It wasn't often that he allowed himself the luxury of staying in bed all day but today just called for it. He had already spent the morning training so he wasn't completely lazy at least. 
“That sounds perfect.”
The two of you spent the rest of the morning just cuddling and talking and enjoying each other's company. For lunch you ventured out to the kitchen to grab food, then brought it over to the couch and ate while catching up on your shows.
Outside the rain picked up but inside the mood had settled. After lunch the two of you headed back to the bedroom. You both wanted to get some reading done but he couldn't help but watch your ass as you bent down to pick up the romance you were reading.At least he managed to adjust himself and pick up his own book before you climbed back in next to him.
Sid was in the middle of reading about an English regicide when you began pawing at his stomach, dangerously close to his dick. He lowered his book just enough so that he could look at you. “Can I help you?”
“Do you want to… I mean… I feel empty. And I wanted to know if you would…” 
Your hand dipped down to cup him through his sweatpants but Sid would have understood what you needed from him even without it.
“Need me to fill you up?”
“Please.”
He leaned away to put his book down, growing hard annoyingly fast. Your own book laid sprawled next to you, page down next to your sleep shorts.
You waited for him, melting into the bed the moment his full attention was on you. Sid wasn’t surprised to find you already wet when he touched you. The sighs and high little noises that left your mouth were so pretty until you decided to bite your lip to stop them from escaping. He didn't toy with you for long, thumbing at your folds for a moment then moving along to your clit. Sid didn't want to tease you when you had asked him to fill you, so he gave you one of his fingers as soon as he felt you were ready. A second followed soon after. By the time he had worked you up to the three he usually liked to prep you with, you didn't hold back your moans anymore.
“Ready?”
He tried his best not to feel smug when instead of answering him verbally you just nodded frantically and pulled him into a kiss. He indulged you for a moment but stopped when he felt like he was getting too worked up.
“On your side.” He ordered playfully, chuckling when you whined in response.
“Come on.” I’ll keep you full and you keep me warm.”
Figuring out a good position for you two didn't take long. Sid slid inside you slowly, making sure to be gentle as he filled you up. It would have been easier if you'd stop wriggling though. Once you found a comfortable position you picked your book back up and Sidney reached for his, trying not to move too much. This wasn't about getting off for the two of you. It was about comfort. About keeping an ache at bay.
You spent the next hour or so reading your own books, connected but dedicated to your separate literature. Sidney liked that he could do this for you, that you felt comfortable enough to ask for this. He also liked the feeling of your warmth surrounding him, the subconscious little squeezes around his length when something exciting was happening, the way you pushed on your lower stomach as if you could feel him even though he wasn't that big and you weren't that small.
He had asked you about it after your first few times, wanting to know what made you want it. It just feels nice, you had told him, warm and full and like I can just turn my brain off for a while.
Rain continued to pelt against the windows.
Sid knew you couldn’t wait much longer when you started to squirm and grind back against him. Cockwarming didn’t always lead to sex but sometimes it just wasn’t enough and you needed him to take care of you properly. But even though he could recognize your neediness he wouldn’t give you anything until you asked for it.
It took you twenty more minutes of sneakily trying to fuck yourself on his dick before you gave in.
“Sid. Please.” You whined, pressing your body back against his. “I need more. Need you.”
He didn’t give in immediately, instead putting his book down and taking a moment to just watch you desperately moving against him. He’d always give you what you asked for even when he liked to tease you.
It was easy for him to roll on top of you, forcing you to move with him until you laid on your stomach, pressed flat to the bed with him looking down on you. 
You gasped at the movement but that quickly turned into another whine when you realized he wasn’t moving. You couldn't even move back because his hips were holding yours in place. He was filling you, but not in the way you needed.
Finally he started to move, slowly pulling out before fucking back in roughly. A single strong thrust that had you clutching the sheets, waiting for more. 
He leaned down, his strong chest warm against your back through both of your shirts, and pressed a kiss against your shoulder blade.
“Please.” You begged again.
Sidney liked to tease but he wasn't cruel, if you wanted to be fucked he wouldn’t deny you that pleasure.
He started fucking you in earnest, building up a rhythm until the sounds of your bodies connecting started to rival those of the rainstorm outside.
Sid let you muffle your moans even though he preferred to hear them. The sight of you hugging a big pillow, clutching it to your chest and burying your sweet head in it to quiet yourself down, did things to him you would need to explore later.
Following the line of your body further down he could see himself fucking you. The way you enveloped him, your body moving whenever he thrusted into you. Sidney felt himself getting closer to an orgasm. Not wanting to come yet he slowed down his thrusts, choosing to focus on strength rather than speed. Your whole body moved on the bed every time he entered you, putting those glutes to good use.
He didn't realize how close you'd been until you tightened around him, screaming into your pillow as you came. Sid continued fucking you through your orgasm, shallow thrust and deep grinds to carry you through without overwhelming you; all while he was still chasing his own hight but not as frantic as he would have before.
He pulled out —slowly, carefully— after you stopped shaking, content to just jerk himself the rest of the way and come across your ass when you turned around beneath him.
You looked so beautiful, wrecked in the best way, with messy hair and the lines of the pillow pressed into your skin. Sid wanted to trace them but he held himself back.
“You don’t have to. You can… inside.” You smiled up at him wide eyed.
Sid groaned as he buried his cock in you and his head in the crook of your neck. It didn’t take him long to follow you over the edge. Fucking back in as deep as he could, he came, muffling his moans against your skin.
The two of you basked in the afterglow for a little while before Sid convinced himself to leave your warm bed and get a washcloth to clean you up. He had just returned to you when the first grumbling started in the distance.
By the time the rainstorm outside had turned into a full thunderstorm the two of you had gotten dressed again and were about to snuggle when you remembered something.
“Can you open the door so that Mav can get in if he gets scared?”
He loved his cat, he really did, but the allergy meds only went so far. The bedroom and his gym were the only off limit areas without cat hair everywhere.
“You know-”
You cut him off. “I know it’s not his first thunderstorm but what if he gets scared?”
It wasn’t a fight he would win.
Groaning, he got up, gathering his blanket and pillow before walking over to the door.
“What are you doing?”
“He can’t sleep in here with us.” It was a rule where Sid put his foot down. He quite liked being able to breathe, thank you very much. “But we can go out there with him.”
After he dumped his blanket on the couch, he returned, finding you in the same position he left you in.
“I can’t walk.” You gestured to your legs; they were no longer shaking but Sidney knew all too well what he could do to you.
Instead of responding verbally he just scooped you and your blanket up before making his way back to the living room. He dumped your comfy heap on the couch and got ready to settle in next to you when a tiny meow under his blanket caught his attention. Apparently Maverick had already gotten comfortable in his new hiding spot. 
Sid let him have it, sliding in next to you under your blanket instead. The three of you could just spend the rest of your bed day on the couch.
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cillianmesoftlyyy · 6 months
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In Love, in War Pt. 1 | Thomas Shelby x Reader
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Summary | She (the reader) comes from a wealthy family in Birmingham, England and he (Thomas Shelby) comes from a family of no-good troublemakers in Small Heath. Their worlds finally collide when Thomas lands himself in the triage tent of a nearby hospital camp during the battle of the Somme with a neck wound. Past traumas and heavy-handed words open old wounds, and yet, they always find their way back to Birmingham.
Warnings | Blood, gore, mentions of sex (not yet explicit), war, death, and out-dated language ("Gypsies").
Hey- Pixies 🎶
Bodysnatchers- Radiohead 🎵
Word count: 1812k
Not proofread- my b, folks!
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Yes, she knew of the Shelbys, who didn’t? She just didn’t really care. She kept her life away from the dark underbelly of Birmingham, and more focused on the bright future in front of her. She was born into a good family with sterling silver spoons in their tea set and barbs strung into their pearls. She was destined for great things, good houses, and well-groomed men with boring Christian names. That was until the beginning of the Great War and most of those men died in the pits of France and Germany. She was engaged once too, to one of those men. 
His name was Frances Gild Jr. and he loved her. He was the heir to a banking fortune with a passion for the arts. He was beyond beautiful with short blonde ringlets and blue eyes. Her daddy loved him and blessed the union when Francis asked for her hand, sliding a large diamond engagement ring onto her finger. That was two months before Britain joined the war. They were still naive enough to sneak behind the kitchen into the distant sheds to have their way with one another. They were young and prudent so their kisses were prideful and polite. Their love-making was brief and unexceptional, legs splayed in the air and fine silk ripped by old sawdust. When the war began, Francis was 20, two years her senior and assumed he was ready for war because his daddy was a Lieutenant. 
There was no time for a wedding, at least that’s what Francis said as he rushed to the front. To wait for his return and to do her part in the war effort, she trained as a nurse. Was she a good nurse? Not particularly. She often fainted from the sight of blood which brought discomfort simply from her period much less an amputated appendage. But she learned how to cope, mostly. The smell of blood was the hardest to ignore. It seemed to never wash out as much as she scrubbed beneath the beds of her nails and behind her ears, the smell was a constant companion. 
It took her a couple of months to complete the basic training course but soon after she was sent to a hospital in London to work on more serious injuries before going directly into the field. She was allowed to go home on the weekends to visit her parents in Birmingham’s wealthier neighborhoods. The job was hard and it didn’t pay well but it afforded her a bit of peace in the whole ordeal, knowing that she was helping English soldiers in some small way. She felt like she could reach Frances through these patients who came in for breaks and fractures, not gunshots or paranoia. It was during one of these long night shifts that she received the telegram postmarked from Frances Gild. She opened the envelope without concern, having received one a week since the beginning of April. That is the night she learned that Francis Gild jr. had died somewhere on the western front, spoiling in mud like old fruit. She’d overlooked the postage from Birmingham, assuming it was just another letter from her fiance, which it wasn’t. It bore his death in plain script, emotionless and frigid. 
“FRANCIS DEAD STOP KILLED IN ACTION STOP WILL SEND NEWS STOP GOD BLESS STOP.” 
She dropped the yellow paper on the clean linoleum floor and felt her jaw fall open in a shocked gasp. Nurses on the night shift rushed to quiet her or comfort her. She paled and clutched the sharp edge of the desk for support. 
“It will be ok.” Voices whispered in her ear. 
“You poor soul.” Others crossed themselves like preventing a bad curse, a hex. A dead fiance disease that carries onto young well-meaning women in close proximity; more always follow the first. 
Francis was the first for her. He was many of her firsts. In a cab back to Birmingham, she thought of the first time they had made-love. He’d finished in a matter of minutes, panting against her chest like a puppy. His eyes bore into her with more passion than his thrusts. He was her first kiss, stolen after dinner behind the china cabinet when the adults had gone through to tea and brandy. That man was dead now, and she imagined his beautiful blue eyes closed forever under the casket’s heavy lid, buried somewhere in his family’s mausoleum outside Birmingham. And what did this leave her? Not a widow, and yet, she believed in a way, she was. 
She was excused from service for three months, allotting her the same mourning period as a widow though she officially lacked the title. She was nearly two years into her training when Francis died and the war waged on in countries that seemed so far away from her house on Claremont. When she was called back to service, she went with a black armband and her light blue uniform. She was dispatched to France and left right away with a British medical unit, relieving the unit stationed at the Somme. During her months of mourning, she had avoided newspapers and prints about the war in France, so the Somme meant nothing to her. They were escorted in large covered trucks with heavy trunks of supplies and rations. Americans followed behind, whistling after the young nurses like the warning knell of a whizbang. 
The medical camp was a shock for her in sight, smell, and noise. Distant bombing and gunfire rang in her ears and vibrated the very pit of her soul. Blood and the threat of blood was as thick as the mud encircling the camp. She thought back to the sterling silver spoons of her youth as she waded through the fecal matter and mud to the office tent. She was assigned to triage. 
“Just assess the situation. Write down the serious injuries, treat the basics, and set those aside who will live for the next few hours. Use your judgment, girls.” The head nurse directed them, holding the girl back as the others hurried to the triage tent. “Word of advice?” The head nurse pursed her lips. 
“Yes, ma’am?” The girl responded. 
“Take off the armband, you’ll look like the Angel of Death out there.” 
She removed the armband strapped around her arm as she moved to the triage tent. Soldiers screamed and pleaded for assistance while others lay dying and without the strength to speak. She followed the movements of the other nurses, checking the bodies and scrambling for pencils and paper dotting with blood and mud. 
“Please help me!” One boy cried and grabbed her sleeve. She recorded his injuries and sent him to the hospital tent. 
“You’ll be fine.” She called after him as he disappeared through the thick canvas drapes. 
She marked down the men she saw who could not be saved and passed them along with a sorrowful shake of her head. The men she saw passed her by in blurs of colors and sounds like silent films in fast motion, a puppet book whose pages flip so fast that a story appears between them. 
The second week she was moved to the hospital tent which doubled as the operation theater. She was not formally trained in surgery but had picked it up in the months of study and shadowing she managed to procure in London. As long as her patients didn’t die, the doctors were willing to let nurses take over due to the lack of helpful hands and skill. Her long habit-like nurse’s cap was pinned up to her head to prevent the veil from falling into open wounds. She washed her hands as another patient was carried into the tent.  
“God dammit.” One boy cursed loudly, clutching his neck with a dirty palm. She scanned his body for further damage and accessed the neck wound. 
“Large cut from metal shrapnel. Some kind of grenade.” A second nurse who had followed the stretcher with the patient. 
“Thank you, Mandy.” She nodded to the nurse. “Sir, I need you to move your hand from the cut.” She spoke loudly over the man’s curses.
“Fuck that. I’m gonna bleed out.” He growled through his heaving breaths. 
“You’ll bleed out if you don’t move your bloody hand.” She retorted, her hand full of gauze. “I’ll pack the wound so that I can look at it, ok?” 
“Fuck me!” He yelled at the tent’s ceiling and reluctantly moved his hand. Blood spurted out from his neck before she could clamp the clean gauze down on the agitated wound.
“Ok, ok.” She soothed, frantically applying pressure and wiping the area with strong alcohol. “Mandy, hold this against the wound, I need to close it.” She ordered and switched with Mandy, rummaging through a cart of supplies with bloody hands. She removed a surgeon’s needle and thread for stitches. 
“She threaded the needle and pierced the skin around the wound with the needle, pulling the two sides of flesh together with quick movements. 
The soldier screamed and thrashed on the ground. 
“I need help over here!” She yelled over her shoulder. Two men ran over and held his arms down as she tried to finish quickly. 
“I’m sorry, sir!” She weaved the needle through one last time and tied it off. Pouring alcohol on the finished stitches, she caught her breath. “It’s done.” She gasped out and nodded to the men. They released the soldier who looked to be on the verge of unconsciousness. Mandy removed the bloody gauze and moved to the next patient.
“Give us some of that.” He panted and pointed weakly to the bottle of gin she’d been using to clean wounds. She handed it over and he took a strong swig of the horrible drink. 
“I hope,” he panted, “that I never have to see you again.” He handed back the bottle. 
“I wish the same, sir.” She nodded and stood. His hand shot out from his side and gripped her wrist with renewed strength. 
“What’s your name, nurse?” He tried to smirk. She noticed his large blue eyes as she told him. He loosened his grip on her wrist and gave a nod. 
“Thomas.” He swallowed. She paused for a moment, registering his clipt cocky accent. “Pleased to meet you.” He added when she said nothing. 
“You’ll be taken back to the infirmary to rest. Try not to move your neck because you may loosen the stitches. Don’t waste the stitches, Thomas.” She joked lightly. 
“Is that what you care about then?” He smiled. 
“What?” 
“The stitches.” 
“Yes, and you by extension. Your life is my responsibility but stitches cost money.” She laughed and stood again. 
“Good to know where we stand.” He called softly from the ground and she allowed herself to smile as she met the next group of patients.
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End part 1 :)
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francisofgotham1 · 10 months
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Bat Family is Multilingual
While that seems like an obvious observation, not enough people talk about it, either on this site on anywhere else. But yeah, the Bats are a polyglot household. And for those that grew up speaking more than one language, we all know the mayhem that brings.
You know the "spanglish" and "portenglish" that we create? It's on another level at the Wayne residence. Conversations switch languages every sentence, for their dialect of gibberish to anyone outside of it.
For example, the conversation goes: English -> Spanish -> Swahili -> Aramaic -> Mandarin -> Portuguese -> Patuá (Macanese Patois) -> Romani -> Navajo -> Kryptonian -> Coptic -> Arabic -> Doric Greek (Greek from Sparta) -> Griko (Greek dialect in Italy) -> Cherokee -> Vietnamese -> Nahuatl -> Hebrew -> Back to English
Also, they switch languages depending on what they're cooking and proceed to shout it across the kitchen. The loudest The Latin ones and Arabic.
Even sign language is multilingual. The family has their version of it (created by Cass, which uses more body language and movements that show things and feelings instead of words), but they switch between American, British, French, New Zealand, Irish, Brazilian, Maritime, Hong Kong, Inuit, Ka'apor, and even Plains Indian SL on the daily basis. It's so varied that for an outsider, it just looks like their gesturing half the time.
And honestly, I think it all started with an angry Bruce learning French and German from Alfred.
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leathfaic · 11 months
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"So what do ye eat then, when ye get the choice?" Soap is opening two bottles of beer handing one over to Ghost. He's clueless about what to cook for dinner, might as well ask Simon for some input.
"Chicken and rice. Or I order something." Ghost's tone is nonchalant as he studies the label of the beer he was just handed and Soap decides immediately that he's not gonna follow the plain suggestion actually. He's on leave and deserves some flavour in his food, thank you very much.
"Single malt whisky cask matured?" Ghost' sounds slightly disbelieving. "That is very Scottish.", or disapproving, who knew with the English.
So Soap just snorts, "Had to get ye some of the local stuff, eh? If ye behave ah'll make sure we get some of the beer with tea in for ye." 
At that Simon, who was sniffing his beer, looks up, pure horror in his eyes and Soap's snort evolves into a full-on cackle. 
He catches himself a moment later, inspecting the almost pouting look behind the mask and decides to drop the topic for now. Instead, he raises his bottle at Simon, "To leave, aye?".
Ghost does the same, their bottles clinking. 
"Cheers."
"Slàinte Mhath." 
Crisp and cold. Fuck he'd missed beer. Missed a lot of things during that last OP. Food that tasted like actual food was one, bringing him back to his original line of questioning. It shouldn't be surprising that Ghost is not into cooking. He's the only person Soap has ever seen eating anything from the mess with true enthusiasm. Sorts his MREs by how much he likes them too when he thinks no one is looking. Always eating the best first.
"Not much of a cook then?" he keeps his tone light and innocent while sipping his beer. Trying to observe Simon's reactions without making him feel watched.
"I can handle meat," There's a stupid smirk traded between them and Soap would roll his eyes if he didn't have to reign himself in, immediately set ablaze by the stupid joke.
"Learned at a butchers before I joined." Ghost offers up by way of explanation, sounding almost sad. Something must've happened there, something that had Simon ending up in the force. Something that led to him becoming Ghost.
"Well perfect, I'm not terrible but I do handle meat way better in the bedroom." Soap winks at him and this time, to make sure the innuendo lands painfully enough to pull Ghost out of his head. 
It does and earns him an exasperated look. Might have convinced him if those brown eyes weren't full of fondness. 
He's gonna leave Ghost with the belief that he's not learning to see behind the mask for a little longer: Wants him to feel comfortable. No need to divulge that his tone clearly betrayed that he's got no idea how to cook apart from putting some meat into a pan and put all his hope into some cook in bags. Lots of people couldn't cook, it wasn't a big deal.
Only that it is not just that. From the few things he's told Soap about himself, it makes sense, in a sad way.
Simon, who confronts being gay like being in battle, all hyper-masculine energy focused on fighting through all the hurtful stereotypes and insults his father planted in his head, probably never got to do a lot of things that weren't 'manly'. Makes him wonder where the needle skills come from but only for a split second before he decides he's gonna do something about this then.
"So what is yer favourite food then?" 
"Don't really 'ave one." the stoic bastard answers and Soap has to think about the MREs but also has no trouble believing that that is a luxury the other man doesn't allow himself to ponder. Thinks he doesn't deserve it.
Not that'll stop him. Quite the opposite, now he's motivated.
"Alright, anythin ye could be doin with right now?" 
He watches Ghost's eyes dart through the kitchen seemingly looking for a clue. Bouncing of cabinets and shelves before he takes a swig of his beer.
"No." he finally answers, sounding like he's withdrawing into himself again. For fucks sake.
Soap smiles at him hiding his exasperation away before it can reach his face, doesn't need his emotions to make this harder on both of them. 
"Well too bad, yer at ma mercy." He lets his smile dip into something devilish and revels in the note of alarm in Simon's lovely eyes. It's quickly replaced with confusion as Soap presses a knife into his hands. He stands there, looking for all accounts like a very misplaced ghoul. Very deadly but also kinda endearing.
"Ye can cut the onion, garlic, are chilis fine with ye? If so, cut two of those too and make sure ye wash yer hands after tha'. 
They work in silence for a moment, Ghost's dutifully following Soap's command without any complaints. When Soap begins to sear the meat he explains what he's doing and asks for input from Ghost. He's rewarded with warm surprise on the mostly masked features before Ghost starts talking, softer than his usual tone when he's guiding Soap through something job-related, becoming almost reverent when he sees Soap adjust to what he just said. And Soap tries to be careful with his usual ribbing jokes, not wanting to disturb the equilibrium that is Ghost relaxing in his flat.
When the other ingredients are added he takes over again. Talking the lieutenant through the process. Explaining his steps when he knows why they're important and freely admitting defeat when he doesn't. 
They drink their beers and cook, Ghost once more following every step that Soap lays out for him and Soap silently trying to impress him. Not that he was gonna admit that to either himself or anyone else.
"Who taught you all tha'?", they're just waiting for the pasta now, the sauce down and bubbling away on low heat, leaning against each other, Soaps head resting on Ghost's shoulder. Outright domestic. 
"Ma grannie," Soap smiles fondly at the memory of the tiny woman with her sincere blue eyes. "Told me being a lad was no excuse and Ah'd better know ma way around a kitchen for ma future burd." he winks at Ghost who goes surprisingly red surprisingly fast clearly visible even behind the mask. "When Ah told her Ah'm a buftie she doubled down. Ian she said, refused to call me John ye see forever angry tha' ma da went with the anglicised version, anyways, Ian she said if ye're bringing home another man one of ye will need to know how to cook or for all yer gay love ye'll focking starve." he can almost hear hear as his accent gets thicker and something between wild joy and bottomless sorrow tears through his chest at the memory.
There's a beat of silence before a weird noise breaks it. It's a rough quick sound and it takes Soap a second to realise that Simon just snorted. 
"Well thank fuck for grandma MacTavish and her foresight!" he pulls his almost empty beer bottle into the air dramatically and they toast again. 
Soap's smile is wide, imagining what his nan's reaction to Ghost would've been. 
They might have gotten on entirely too well. 
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mangora · 3 days
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I’m so tired here are some assorted Disventure Camp headcanons:
•Jake is really into poetry. Some of his poems are bangers, some of them are absolute dogshit. He posts some of them online, mostly the bad ones because he’s not self-aware of how bad they are. He will spend hours on end writing in his notes app. Guy is a big fan of sonnets and free verse but his strong suits are odes and villanelles
•Rosa María, James, Yul, Lake, Riya, Fiore, and Alec are all multilingual. Rosa speaks English and Spanish, James speaks Portuguese and English, Yul speaks Korean and English, Lake speaks German and English as well as some French, Riya speaks Hindi and English, Fiore speaks English and some Italian, and Alec speaks English as well as a variety of other languages (he did a minor in linguistics for his university degree so he knows the basics of multiple major languages).
•Hunter’s a competitive chess player. Ally’s the only person who’s ever beat him fair and square, but even then, that rarely happens
•Lake is great at baking. She’s incredibly exact when it comes to measurements, timing, and technique. Rosa, meanwhile, is a great cook and she doesn’t measure anything
•Aiden can play bass guitar. He started learning as a teenager because he wanted to join an emo band one day. Chase your dreams boy
•Yul used to have braces and he’s really embarrassed about it
•Gabby’s a forager, she loves to forage for wild fruit and mushrooms and greens
•Ellie’s kinda a ghoul in the kitchen. Like she can make good food and drinks but most of the time she’s so tired that she makes evil energy drink-instant coffee potions or like that pistachio & condensed milk concoction from Arthur
•In a better universe I think Ellie and Jake are frenemies instead of fully hating each other and they play Minecraft together and Ellie is constantly stealing Jake’s shit and trying to defeat the Ender Dragon meanwhile he screams every time he sees a Creeper and begs her to turn Keep Inventory on because he keeps dying
•Miriam gets a cat after the show. She’s an older white cat named Snowball and she has the same personality as her. They are best friends and Miriam is so annoyed by her. She made them matching sweaters. Snowball is only fully nice to Jake
•Fiore listens to Thrash Metal. It’s partially just to throw people off when they find out, she thinks it’s funny
•Fiore also enjoys those YouTube prank videos, she knows they’re fake they’re just so stupid that she finds them hilarious. Kristal gives her an iPad for a day one time for entertainment and it pisses the rest of the Magenta team off so bad because she keeps playing these prank videos and watching epic fail compilations at full volume
•Grett loves crocheting. She slowly turns into one of those people who crochets during lectures and while watching movies and shit
•James is really good at Tetris
•Ally is obsessed with Sci-Fi. She, Tess, and Hunter watch Star Trek, Doctor Who, and Star Wars together because they all love the worldbuilding so much. Tess writes fanfiction about almost everything they watch. Hunter has terrible media literacy and misses the themes every time but he has fun watching
•After All Stars, Riya gets really into tattoos. She gets matching ones with Connor
•People antagonize Tom with the cop slide video and every time he clenches his fist and goes, “Stop laughing at him.”
•Kai has a bunch of pet bugs. Maggy’s secretly afraid of them still but she’s getting there. She likes rollie pollies
•Karol used to do roller derby and Lill used to ice skate. Ggirlf,riends,,, I miss them chat. Where is my old woman yuri
•Aiden eats plain yogurt nothing on it and it’s the one thing James doesn’t like about him. Like it’s so upsetting to him. Why does he eat plain yogurt
•Ashley likes hyperpop, don’t tell anyone
•Tom likes crockpot food. He is not invited to potlucks for this reason. He will always bring the crockpot
•Alec doesn’t like splatter films but he really enjoys psychological horror, especially mockumentaries and mondo films
•Lake read creepypasta a lot as a kid and she wouldn’t go into the kitchen after dark because she was afraid of Jeff the Killer appearing at her fridge
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