#the people in the corner did it for me. yeah

[steddieas-shegoes]

congrats on 3000 followers 💫 you deserve it honey!🧡 Also, Chappell Roan has been stuck in my head, so I’m suggesting a lyric of hers for a prompt:

“I could be the one, or your new addiction.”

(Or any lyric from HOT TO GO!)

Thank you! I’m right there with you, Chappell Roan the incredible bitch that you are 👏🏻

➿➿➿➿➿➿➿➿➿➿

“He’s had one drink and he’s acting like he had a bottle of vodka,” Robin shook her head while she watched Steve dancing with two guys in the middle of the club they’d only been at for an hour.

“He needed to let loose,” Eddie shrugged, looking down at the drink he’d barely taken a sip from.

Robin looked at him, frowned, then looked back to Steve. She desperately needed them to get their shit together, but Steve acting like this definitely wasn’t going to work. It didn’t help that Eddie had been acting moody all day, barely even wanted to come with them.

“And what about you?” She finally asked him. “Are you gonna let loose tonight or keep the stick up your ass until you go to bed?”

Eddie’s head shot up, ready to argue. He didn’t, though. He looked back down at his drink and sighed.

“Not really feeling like letting loose, birdie.”

“Why not?”

Eddie shrugged and stayed silent.

“Did something happen?” She pushed. Even on his moody days, he was still usually capable of putting on a smile for her or the kids.

“No, just me being dumb. Making assumptions,” Eddie snorted. “Should be used to it by now.”

“What assumptions?” The song changed to something even louder and she considered dragging Eddie to the outside seating so they could talk.

“Just thought I was making progress on something and I clearly wasn’t.”

Oh, so it’s about Steve.

Eddie hadn’t really talked to her about his feelings, but she caught on early. She watched the way Eddie prioritized Steve over everyone and everything else, how he smiled when Steve was happy, how his mood shifted when Steve was having a bad day. She’d be worried more about it if she didn’t know that Steve was the exact same way.

They were idiots, both of them.

“What makes you think that?” She took a sip of her drink to seem more casual, but Eddie wasn’t that much of an idiot.

“Pretty obvious where I stand when someone’s leaving his room early in the morning, Robin.”

So he did know Robin knew.

“Someone slept over last night?” Robin didn’t know that. Steve rarely brought people to his apartment he shared with Eddie, and he hadn’t in nearly a year. Robin didn’t even know the last time he showed interest in anyone beyond getting a free drink from them.

“Yeah. She seemed like his type. I’m sure you’ll hear all about it soon.”

Robin squinted back at Steve dancing.

He would have told her by now about bringing someone home. They’d been together all afternoon.

“I don’t think he slept with her,” she finally said.

“Yeah, okay. I’m sure they just cuddled all night.”

Robin rolled her eyes. “It’s not what you think, I’m telling you.”

“Sure.”

She couldn’t do or say anything else, just had to let Eddie brood about not being in Steve’s bed even though he could fix it if he just said something.

She finished her drink and excused herself to join Steve. Maybe he could tell her what was going on.

“Hey dingus,” she yelled as she got closer.

Steve turned and smiled at her, sweat dripping from his forehead. “Robs! Hi!”

“Hey, babe. Did you forget to eat today?”

Steve nodded.

“Thought so. Let’s go get you some water.”

She dragged him to the bar and managed to get the bartender to get him water before anyone else got more drinks. She forced him to drink half of it before they walked back towards the table in the corner Eddie hadn’t moved from.

“Eddie! You should dance with me,” Steve exclaimed as he sat next to Eddie and grabbed his arm.

“Maybe next time, Stevie,” Eddie smiled at him, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Steve was still a little too drunk to notice, but Robin saw it.

“Awww, you never dance with me anymore. I miss you.”

Robin could see how hard it was for Eddie to hold himself together. Every possible emotion was flickering behind his eyes.

“Maybe that girl you had over last night will dance with you,” he finally settled on, which Robin immediately wanted to shove back into his mouth.

Steve sat back and seemed to be trying to figure out what Eddie meant when the beat of his current favorite song came on.

“Oh my god! Eddie! Please dance with me!” Steve clapped his hands and stood from the stool he’d been sitting on.

Eddie looked sad, but also endlessly endeared by Steve’s excitement.

“I could be the one or your new addiction!”

Steve was yelling the lyrics right at Eddie, not realizing how much Eddie was hurting.

Robin was his platonic soulmate and Eddie was on of her best friends. She couldn’t keep watching this.

“Steve, maybe you should get some fresh air,” she grabbed his shoulder and tried to turn him away, but he looked mad.

“No, this is my favorite song.”

“Steve, c’mon. Just for a minute. We can listen to this when we get outside if you want.”

Eddie was looking back down at his drink, biting his lip so hard it looked like it might bleed.

“Only if Eddie goes with me,” Steve folded his arms across his chest and pouted.

“Eddie’s gonna save our table in here,” Robin said.

But surprisingly, Eddie interrupted her by standing up and throwing back the rest of his drink.

“I’ll take him.”

Steve cheered and started singing along again as Eddie and Robin shared a look.

Eddie wrapped an arm around Steve’s waist and guided him towards the back door that led to a small seating area outside. Steve was singing the whole way, but he rested his head against Eddie’s shoulder while they walked.

“Why are you sad tonight?” Steve asked as they made their way to the only available table outside.

“I’m not.”

“Friends don’t lie.”

“I’m not lying,” Eddie lied.

“Then dance with me. I love dancing with you,” Steve didn’t move his head from Eddie’s shoulder even when they sat down.

“I love dancing with you too,” Eddie managed to say before he felt a lump in his throat.

He loved doing everything with Steve, even dancing to pop songs at a club, and it was only hurting him more to keep pretending it was enough.

“I even taught you the dance to that song,” Steve said quieter. “Remember?”

“Yeah,” Eddie smiled to himself, tightening his grip around Steve’s shoulders. “Made me put my hips into it.”

“Because you have nice hips,” Steve sighed.

Eddie could feel his face heating up. Steve wasn’t sober enough, he didn’t know what the hell he was saying.

“I barely have hips at all,” Eddie managed to choke out.

“Not true. I like holding them. They’re perfect.”

Okay, Eddie couldn’t do this. Robin needed to read his mind and come outside and-

“Wanna hold them now.”

“Steve, you’re drunk. You-“

“Can we dance?” Steve interrupted.

“The music isn’t loud out here.”

“I can sing it.”

“We’ll be the only ones dancing.”

Steve tilted his head back and looked at Eddie. “When has that stopped you before?”

“Fine.”

Eddie stood and let Steve hold his hips, almost a slow dance, while Steve started singing the song.

“Baby, do you like this beat, I made it so you’d dance with me.”

Eddie loved when Steve sang. He wasn’t the best, but he had a smooth voice that made Eddie smile, regardless of the song he was singing.

They were swaying like it was a slow song, but the vibrations of the bass line coming through the walls of the club made it obvious it wasn’t meant to be.

“I didn’t sleep with her,” Steve said after he went through the chorus once.

“Okay.”

Steve looked frustrated. “Some guy was trying to take her back to his place and he wouldn’t take no for an answer so I let her Uber back with me and she ended up just spending the night. Nothing happened.”

“That’s…fine. I don’t need to hear about it,” Eddie knew he sounded rude, but he truly couldn’t make it through the night if Steve gave a play by play of getting cozy with someone else.

“I don’t ever want anything to happen with anyone but you.”

Eddie stopped swaying. He was pretty sure the music stopped inside. No one else existed except for them.

“What?” He finally squeaked out.

Steve was looking at him like he was the sun.

“No matter who I dance with or flirt with or hang out with, you’re the only one who matters. It’s just you, Eds.”

He was drunk, but drunk Steve never lied. Eddie knew that for a fact. He’d said some harsh truths before when he had more whiskey than he should’ve.

“I don’t understand.”

Steve searched his eyes and bit his lip, like he was considering what to say.

But then his lips were on Eddie’s, soft, cautious.

He was holding back.

Eddie didn’t want him to.

Eddie wrapped his arms around Steve’s waist and pulled him forward so their chests were flush against each other, tongue licking along Steve’s bottom lip to deepen the kiss.

Steve allowed it, moaning as he let Eddie hold most of his weight.

Before they could get too carried away in public, Eddie pulled away to catch his breath and try to get his heart to slow before he passed out.

“Steve, this can’t just be a fun thing. This is…this is everything to me. You’re everything to me.”

Steve nodded, eyes never leaving Eddie’s. “I know. You’re maybe the love of my life. I’m drunk but I know how I feel. Felt that way for years.”

Years?

“Years? And you just now decided to say something?” Eddie wasn’t looking forward to Robin’s ‘I told you so.’

“Couldn’t. Didn’t wanna scare you away.”

“There’s no fucking way you’d ever do that. I’ve been yours for three years whether you knew it or not,” Eddie laughed in disbelief.

“We should go home,” Steve said quickly.

“You tryin’ to take me hot to go?” Eddie teased.

“If you’ll let me,” Steve nodded, tugging on Eddie’s hand to get him to move faster.

“I’ll let you do anything you want, Stevie.”

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #asks #follower celebration #drabble #getting together #this is becoming a theme #what does it mean #modern au

[nexysworld]

Summary: Toji is returned to you, beat up after a job, he comforts you the best way he knows how. Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x Fem Reader Tags: NSFW, MDNI, Face Riding/Sitting, Fem Receiving Oral, Light mentions of being injured, Hurt Comfort. Happy ending, drabble. WC: 1.1K

Read on AO3 || Ask Box

A/N: This is a quick one dedicated to one of the best people I know @dollfacefantasy. Thank you to @gigabyte-flare, @explorevenus, @kaitkatme and @d10nyx for beta reading.

Toji had always refused to tell you what he really did for a living, and while it didn’t take a genius to know it was less-than-legal, you never thought that it would end with him hurt so badly. He was a tank of a man, and you always assumed that meant he was impenetrable. 

If only.

Lying there covered from the neck down in bandages, he still managed to look handsome. Eyes closed, his pointed features relaxed as he snored lightly, chest rising with the even rhythm of his breathing. “Idiot.” You said, reaching out to touch his cheek. It was the first time you’d touched him in hours. When Shiu had dumped him back at your shared apartment, you were scared he’d shatter under your fingertips. “Good mornin’ to you too, Mamas.” His voice was hoarse and he hadn’t bothered to open his eyes. “How are you feeling?” “Not great. Not the worst I’ve ever been.” The thought of that made your shudder. “ You had me worried so bad, I should’ve killed you myself.” “It’s cute you think you could.” “Shut up.” You leaned down to press your lips to his. “Just, shut up.” “Kiss me again, and I might.” You didn’t waste time, capturing him in another needy kiss. You let your lips linger on his, eyes fluttering shut as you took in the feeling of him. The scar on the corner of his mouth, the slight chappyness of his compared to your soft ones. It was him. It was Toji.

Having pulled back just a few inches, you felt his calloused thumb run over your cheek. “You’re cryin’, Mamas. Did I really scare you that much?” You couldn’t speak, fighting off your tensing face muscles from scrunching up into that childlike ugly cry. “Yeah, you did.” “Let me distract ya then. Been too long without tastin’ my pretty baby.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his suggestion. “Seriously? You can barely sit up, and you’re already talking about getting laid, typical.” “My face is feelin’ cold, figured you could warm it up… wait actually now that I think about it my whole head’s been feelin’ a little cold.” The one arm he could move, reached up to pat the top of his head. You winced as you watched him make the discovery himself. It had been a shocker to you when you first saw it, but those inky blank locks were gone. “Where’s my fuckin’ hair?!” You flinched slightly at his tone. “Shiu said that the sorcerer who did this to you shaved it, like a battle tradition or something. I mean…..it kind of suits you, sexy in a real Vin Diesel kind of way.” You offered, your own words not as confident as you wanted them to be. Really though, he was still handsome to you, he was your man…just now he was your very shiny bald headed man. He narrowed his eyes at you, clearly not finding the amusement or reassurance in your words. “Hop up.” “You really want me to?” “Yeah, need a distraction for myself now.” “If you insist.” You moved from where you were seated, discarding your clothing as quickly as you could. While normally you’d have taken the time to tease him, show off a bit, you both were clearly in a rush to be connected to each other. It was a bit awkward, but you managed to seat yourself over his head without disturbing any of his injuries, a death grip on the headboard kept you “That’s it, Mamas.” He murmured against your thigh. He brought his good hand up to squeeze your thigh to coax you down. Normally there’d be more space for you to see what you’re doing, but with his lack of mobility or real support, you were going in blind. The first time you lowered yourself, your clit bumped his nose, you gasped slightly from the quick flicker of warmth it pulled from you. “Sorry.” You mumbled, lifting yourself up again. This time, you missed again, wet folds coming into contact with the smoothness of his forehead. You almost went to try for a third time until you adjusted slightly and realized it felt good. The expanse of his forehead, including the small wrinkles above his brow bumped against your clit in a way you’d never felt before. 

You closed your eyes and tossed your head back as you tested the waters again, grinding down against his forehead, the lack of hair giving you more room to drag your sensitive bud over. It was similar to how you imagined the feeling of rutting against his abs or thigh, but without the friction of body hair. “Uh, what are ya doin’?” 

The sound of his voice snapped you back to the moment. “Oh god sorry.” Despite your words, your hips moved on their own, wet folds gliding across his head. “You’re nowhere near my mouth, ya know that, right?” “Yeah, yeah….yeah, I know…just god it feels amazing.” You could sense the confusion on his face from the way his brows came together beneath your aching need. “S’okay, right?” “Might blind me with your juices.” He said, though his voice gave clear indicators that he wasn’t sure what was going on still. “I-I can stop.” You rutted down in a circle motion this time, and it was almost enough to send you over your peak.

“Don’t do that. If ya feel good, then ya feel good, can’t take that away from my baby. Just promise to let me get a taste before you hop off.” “D-deal.” You muttered, tossing your head back as you humped his fleshy cueball.”Gonna cum…gonna cum…” You whined, head lolling back, knuckles white and legs shaking as you finally found your desperate release. 

As promised, before sliding off, you pushed yourself as best you could with your jello legs farther down, allowing him the chance to lap at your sensitive wetness. “Fuck, think ya nearly waterboarded me. Can’t even open my eyes.” 

“Sorry…” You said sheepishly, the post nut clarity sinking in and reminding you that shame existed. “Don’t be, meant it as a compliment. You taste just as good as I remember too.”

Sliding off the bed, you reached for your discarded shirt, using it to blot your wetness from his face so he could at least open his eyes. “Another perk, looks like it polished you right up.” You joked, swirling the cottony fabric around his head as if you were doing it to a new bowling ball. 

He rolled his eyes in response, but that huge smile he was known for was painted on his face despite himself. “You owe me a blowjob for that one.” 

#Toji Fushiguro #Toji Zenin #Toji x Reader #Toji x You #Toji Fushiguro x reader #Toji Fushiguro x You #Jjk #jjk x reader #Toji jjk #Jujutsu Kaisen #Jujutsu Kaisen x Reader #Jujutsu Kaisen Fanfiction #Jujutsu Kaisen Imagines #JJk Fanfiction #JJK Imagines #Reader Insert #x reader #fushiguro toji #fushiguro touji

[katszy]

content warning: public sex ; face-fucking ; threesome

─ ` part 1

─ `

Eijiro walks down the familiar path of red lights he did just the day before. He gulps before approaching the red tinted, glass door. "Hey, where the fuck are we." His best friend, Katsuki, who stood behind him asked aloud, making him jump a bit. "I know you know where we are Kats." Eijiro says before pulling the blondie by his arm then entering the building.

When he went in, it was cold and the air smelled of sweet fragrances. It was dimly lit with a few red strobe lights lighting the place up. Katsuki scanned the place further before noticing silhouettes on the corners of people making out and fucking. Eijiro then walks to the register before placing the golden VIP card on the marble counter. "You dirty fucking dog, how long have you been goin' here?!" "Shut up man! I'll show you in a sec!"

They both patiently wait for the lady to give them an ID, exclusively for VIPS only. Katsuki follows the red head to the main room. When entering, their met with half nakes strangers having threesomes on tables and gangbangs on the stage. This though, was for the walk-ins only, the lucky people who obtained the golden card gets to relax in another room. One quieter, cleaner and more erotic.

"So.. I'm not sure if you listened to me yesterday, but this lady gave the card to me okay?" Eijiro explains to Katsuki just what happened the day before and how Eijiro got a VIP card. "How the fuck did you meet!" "That's a different story-!" The argument was cut off by a loud gasp that took the two by surprise. "It's youuu~!" You happily run toward the man you were playing with yesterday.

Your tits bouncing up and down as you skip to him, a pair of heart shaped stickers covering your nipples and a bigger one covering your pussy while feint patches of hair trail down. He was so much bigger than you that your smaller arms couldn't fully wrap around his broad shoulders, and now that you're finally able to touch him, you run your soft hands across his thick biceps, tracing every vein.

"M'so glad you made it~!" You hug his arm before noticing he's got company behind him. "Why wouldn't I come? Prettied yourself up for me baby?" Eijiro hand snaked around your waist, pulling your smaller body into his, as if you guys have known each other for for quite some time. Running his calloused fingers around your pillowy ass and soft thighs. "So fuckin' pret-" "Ahem."

A hoarse voice from behind Eijiro caught your attention. "Is that a friend~?" You ask him while he's busy playing with the fats of your body. "Oh him? Yeah, you mentioned that it's allowed to bring someone else in right?" "Ooh~?"

You broke out of Eijiro's grasp then stuck to Katsuki's body like a magnet. Your arms instantly wrapping around his waist. "You're cute, wanna play~?" You were very obviously teasing him, pressing yourself against his hard chest while wiggling you hips. He's sure your flaps where squelching in that little latex sticker.

"Yeah.. yeah I'll play with ya' " Katsuki smirks before slapping your fat butt. It sends ripples across your flushed cheeks. "Tch, real grateful for bringin' me here Kiri~" He carries you to one of the red couches then sits you on his lap. "Mnh.. you're kinda mean~" You slowly grind yourself on his torn jeans, the hot mess creating a small damp patch on it.

"Hey man, I brought you here. Don't forget you're just an extra, I'm the guest." Kirishima held you waist in place then carried you before sitting you on himself. "Cool your jets Kiri. She ain't got two holes for nothin'~ " Katsuki scoffed before standing up and grabbing your chin to look in his crimson eyes.

"Now, now, no fighting okay?" You look at both men before nuzzling Katsuki's warm palm and licking it, then carefully guiding one of Eijiro's hand to one of your breasts. "How 'bout some foreplay hm? Surely─" You get cut off by Katsuki who pressed your face into his crotch, breathing in all of him even right through the thick cloth.

"Sorry not sorry but I aint got time for that princess." He growls, you could almost feel there vibration of his voice while being down there, his hand still firmly pressing your head to his dick. "He's right sweets, I can't really wait either~" The other man whispers into your ears while grinding his hardon in between your asscheeks. His fingers digging into the meat of your chubby waist.

"Can we skip the foreplay mama? You're already soaked down here." He mumbled into your neck, his hand trailing down to your throbbing cunt before harshly peeling the heart off. Although he is sitting down, you could feel his hips buck into your rump. You whine when Eijiro slowly peeled off the sticker, then muffled out a short string of words before Katsuki let you go. "Alright.. After all... my purpose here is to serve you right~?"

Katsuki snickered "Thaaat's right angel, startin' to know your place huh?" he licks his lips before undoing his fly and throwing his belt to the ground. He grabs a fitfull of your hair and shoved your mouth into his clothed cock, albeit constricted in his boxers, it didn't hide it's size." Wanna taste your treat? S'all yours babe~." He continues to egg you on.

The other man was busy stretching you out, two of his fingers slowly and gently thrusting in you while his free hand toys with your tits. The amount of slick you made, created small droplets on the floor. "Fuck... your too tight sweets... gotta stretch you out so you can take us easier 'kay~?" He whispers before inserting another one in you.

You're legs were trembling even while sitting on Eijiro's lap, not to mention the strong smell of Katsuki violating your nose and the small strands of hair slipping out of his boxers is tickling your nostrils. You proceed to do as he ordered and bit on the orange hem of his boxers, slowly, you pulled it down, revealing more of the hair and then finally his cock sprung out, standing and twitching.

You're eyes widened and your lips slightly parted as you breathe out. You licked his shaft, going up and down before he pulls you off of him. "Not yet slut, although this is just your appetizer, ya still gotta savor every bit of it." You pout your lips before moving to his balls, licking and suckling on it. He chuckles, before caressing your cheek "Good giiirl~."

"Stop hogging her you fuckin' dick." Eijiro growled before roughly finger fucking you, making gushing and squelching noises while your cunt juices drip all over the floor. You whimper at the sensation and tried to squeeze your legs together, but he effortlessly kept your legs apart with one hand and continued bullying your pussy.

On the other hand, Katsuki had fun watching you dirtied his balls with your spit. "That's enough beautiful. Time to stuff your pretty throat full of this meat, you'd love that won't you?" He drags his dick side to side on your face while occasionally slapping the side of your face with it, comparing it's length your face.

After spreading his pre all over your face, he finally presses his tip to you lips, gently dragging it as if he were putting lipstick on you. "Open wide princess~" You opened your mouth, tasting the saltiness of his pre from his tip on the flat of your tongue. After a few seconds him playing with your pretty mouth, he slowly inched deeper down your throat, stopping when he feels you cough or gag around him. Once you've taken him balls deep, he'll keep you in place while he shakes his hips and digs your nose into his bundle of hair sitting on the base. "Fuuuuck.."

You held onto his thigh tightly, gripping on the holes of his torn jeans while you shut your eyes and let him fuck your throat. Every thrust makes you gag and clench around Eijiro's fingers. Both his hands are placed firmly behind your head to keep you from moving, he's made your throat his little fleshlight.

His balls slap your chin, leaving strings of saliva and cum that connect your chin and his sack. The red lipstick you had worn a few hours earlier was now dirtying up the base of his dick, even staining a few strands of his pubes red.

"Tsk.. focus on these fingers stretchin' you bitch. Gonna make you cum so fuckin' hard you bite his dick off." Kirishima bit down on your shoulder while his free arm is wrapped around your waist and he's finger banging you to oblivion.

Your moans are muffled by having Katsuki's dick down your throat. While busy face fucking you, he takes his belt off. Then wraps it around the back of your head while holds both end, he pulled on the belt, causing you to press into him harder, making his dick go deeper. A series of muffled moans and gags leaves your mouth, this only amuses him as he lets out a breathy chuckle. "God..shit..-!" Katsuki grunted, he let go of the belt then held your head using both hands while he came deep in your throat. He's buried so deep each pump of cum is immediately swallowed.

Kirishima looks at you, then to his wet hand, then to the mess you made on the floor. He heard loud gulps before Katsuki finally pulled out, strings of cum stuck to the tip of his dick. "Aww, how fucking cute, you came together." Kirishima says while cupping your cunt, hard. His tone laced with sarcasm. "I'm- *cough* -sorry for neglecting you Eiji baby~" You look back at him, your chin and lips glossy with Katsuki's cum.

"Want me to suck you off too~?" You offered before he lifts you off of him and carries you to a table. "No need honey~ Wanna shove this inside you so bad." He sat you at the edge of the table, your legs around his waist while he plopped his dick on your tummy. It's length almost reaching your belly button. You feel frightened at the sheer size of that thing, Is it even gonna fit? Your gonna tear for sure! He chuckled a bit when he saw your expression. "Don't you worry, I won't make you cry outta pain 'kay?" He whispers.

"...I'll make you cry outta pleasure~" Kirishima flashes you a devilish grin before lining his dick to your tight entrance. "W-wait-! Slow... slowly okay..?" The thought of such a massive cock inside you is making your stomach feel funny. He nuzzles your cheek before nipping at your ear. "....Just sit pretty and take it."

#kazzy's tapes #bnha imagines #bnha smut #mha imagines #mha smut #bakugou x reader #kirishima x reader #kirishima smut #kirishima eijirou #bakugou smut #bakugou katsuki

[carmenized-onions]

Do the Thing | Toilet Repair

logline; Today's itinerary: Fix the toilet, catch up with Syd, try not to cry when everyone asks you where you've been.

series history; Previous Chapter

portion; 7.1k+ (this shit got away from me man, idk what to say)

possible allergies; Negative self-talk (It's the Bear, babe, everyone's sad). I did no research on plumbing and am truly making it the fuck up-- I know for a fact I'm not using any word correctly and I simply will not be fixing it. Reader eats meat!! Specifically pork!! Your 'name' is 100% just Tony now.

pairing; Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto & Fem Reader (No pronouns, but 'handywoman' and 'Miss' are said. Plus a chest reference).

you ever start writing and you just cannot seem to find an end so you keep going forever? yeah.

“I think my name is just Tony now.”

You sip your overpriced orange juice. You really have to fucking savour it, now a days. That’s like 25 cents a sip, and Syd’s treating you to this breakfast outing, so it’s not even your own wallet on the line here.

“You lose all sense of identity, in a restaurant.” Syd straightens her back, mocking her very own mechanical movements of whenever she steps in a kitchen. “I am Chef.”

This diner isn’t more than two blocks down from The Bear. It was probably your second favourite spot in this neighbourhood. Probably still is. Sitting in the back corner booth (your favourite) with Syd is nice but distracting. She’s been updating you on everything since the catering scene and her botched credit, and you’re absorbing all of it, you swear, it’s just hard to not remember why this was your favourite booth.

Not because it’s seats are the least worn in, not because it’s got the right amount of sun through the window without blinding you, but because of the company you kept here. You’re trying to not notice your own name carved into the table. Especially since it’s not your handiwork.

You laugh at Syd’s joke on time, thank God. No awkward pause. “Yeah, you fuckin’ are. Head, right?”

She nods. “It’s cool. It’s like, vomit-worthy stressful but also…”

“You wish you were dead when you’re there, but you’d rather be dead than do anything else?”

“Yessir.” She nods again, digging further into her pancakes. “I really fucking owe you, by the way.”

“You’re paying me off through breakfast.” You wave her off. “Plus, I was available and it was like maaayybe 5 minutes of manual labour, it’s nothing.”

“Y’know what?” She hums, “I think actually, you owe me.”

“Yeah?” You grin.” Please, let me clear my debts, Syd?”

She smiles, pointing her fork at you. “You owe me the fuckin’ Beef background I’ve apparently not unlocked. Everyone was talking about you after.”

“Good things?”

“Vague things. Shit made me even more curious.”

You laugh. No shit they’d be vague. What can they say? “When my dad was running the repairmen gig, Cicero or Fak would call him in—”

“Oh fuck.” She snaps her fingers, seemingly in realization. “Your dad’s the connection!”

“The connection?”

“Fak said he had a connection for our fire safety test shit, and then said he didn’t—”

“Ah.” You nod knowingly. “Dad cut the cord on his business phone when it transferred to me, didn’t really keep people updated. Whoops.”

She nods, taking another bite of her pancakes, speaking mid-chew. “You could’ve saved our asses way faster, and I’ll-I'll never forgive you, but continue.”

Snickering, you continue, “Well, they’d call my dad in, and then my dad would call me in as his like, like his fuckin’ Sous of Repairs. And shit broke all the time at the Beef, as I’m sure you’re well aware, so I hung out around Mikey and everyone a lot.”

“Ah. N’ then…”

“He fuckin’ died.” You laugh, because there’s no way to say it smooth, so you might as well say it bad. You stretch out your arms and lean back in the booth. “I kinda took a step back, after that, so we didn’t manage to crossover ‘til now. S’ironic that you’re the one that brought me back instead of an oldie, honestly.”

She desperately wants to ask more about Mike, but she can tell now is not the time, so she just lets it lie and moves on. “You stopped being an EMT to take up the handyman shit, then?”

“Yessir.” You nod, finishing your straggling home fries. “Just kinda made sense to trade off, and I didn’t want to see the family bizz die. Do I have to occasionally pick up shifts bartending to make rent during slow months? Yes. But I also don’t watch people die anymore, so that’s a win.”

“In a way, you’re watching people die still, just slowly.”

You bite down hard to stifle any semblance of a smile or laughter, deadpanning, just to see her squirm in awkwardness for a moment. It works with flying colours, of course it does. It’s Syd. She’s still Syd. You speak at the same time.

“Cause of the alcohol?” “Cause—Cause of the alcohol.”

You both break into laughter, she throws her napkin at you. “Can’t stand you, oh my god. Let’s go clock in.”

She pays your bill before you can try to sneak your card in, which feels all too familiar, and you’re off.

Off to fix an exploded toilet.

“How the fuck do you fix an exploded toilet?”

Your hands rub over your face, lifting your safety goggles for a second. Too fucking foggy. Too fucking sweaty. Plumbing never really was your biggest strength. You’re staring at the bane of your existence, and it’s the latrine. How far we fall.

“You good, Cousin?” You hear from behind. You don’t need to turn to know it’s Richie in the doorway. It’s a fair question, you’re sitting criss-cross in front of a toilet, head in hands.

“Yeah, Cousin, I’m good.” Your words are muffled by your hands. Fully not cousins. For the record. You would argue you're not even that close, but he'd slap you upside the head. You turn to look at him over your shoulder. “Can you like, get me a pen and note pad? I need to like, strategize an attack.”

“It’s not that bad, Cousin—” “It’s that bad.” “Just tape the—” “Fuck off with the tape!”

You click your teeth, staring at the gurgling porcelain before you— At least it’s clean, it’s just fucked. “I shut the valve and it didn’t do shit. I think I have to remove it entirely so I can see what’s going on with the underground pipe.”

“Heard.” Richie and you both know that his hotfix handiwork has absolutely contributed to this penultimate mess you’re in now, but you’re both letting that go quietly for now. “You charge by hour or service?”

“Service flat rate and then after two hours it’s by hour.”

He hums, knocking his fist on the doorway a few times before walking away. “Pen and pad, Chef.”

“Not a Chef!”

“Term of Respect, Chef!”

You tap your leg incessantly, groaning like you’ve got an 80-year-old body as you stand to your feet. Richie’s grown a lot. He wears suits now. Hasn’t even poked at you for vanishing. Though you have a feeling it’s coming. If not from him, from someone.

You step out into the hall, leaned against the wall with your arms crossed as you wait for your pen and pad. And now you just have more time and a better view to take in how much has changed.

Gutted. A few walls gone. Makes sense, you told Mikey he was getting a mold problem. He never listened. Seats are new. The booths are the all-around style ones now. Ritzy. It’s too good for this neighbourhood. Is that a good thing? Yeah, right? Despite the fact that The Bear should feel out of place, you feel out of place being in it. Could you afford to eat here? Could the people who work here afford to eat here? Syd said she’s not getting paid for the next few months, so at the very least, the Head Chef can’t.

“Strange?” Tina sidles up to you on the wall, wiping her hands on her apron. Completely knocking you out of your dissociative fugue state.

“Yeah.” You nod, a little too quickly, that felt judgey, you correct, uncrossing your arms. “It’s daunting, I think; to see it all at once rather than slowly built in. Like, I know objectively this is very cool, but—”

Tina hums with understanding. “Feels gutted?”

“Was gutted.” You nod. “Doesn’t mean I don’t like it, it’s just, I dunno. Adjustment period, all that.”

“I needed a second too, but Jeff is good. Change has been good.” You nod like you know who Jeff is. “Carmen, I mean.” Your nod is now significantly more understanding. She smiles, you’re a little surprised to see Tina’s got a lot more insight than she used to. She pulled the thought of Carmen right out of your subconscious before you even detected it for yourself. “He’s good. You’ll see.”

You nod. You know the good she means is not Michelin Star Good. You already know that. He’s Mikey good. Person good. You clear your throat. “How’s Louis?”

“Good. Y’know, he’s getting to that age, getting in trouble. S’been a while since he’s had a good influence.” She nudges you. There it is. There’s the poke. The ‘where have you been?’ The ‘it’s been a year’. The— “Y’know, Chef didn’t come to the funeral neither.”

That one you didn’t expect, your head swivels to her hard. “Carmen didn’t go?”

His brother didn’t go? Oh, who the fuck are you to judge...

She nods, practically with her whole body, she looks more amused than anything. But like, mom amused. The worst amused. “You’re both the sensitive type.”

You cock your head at her, raising a brow. Smirking slightly. “Wow, Tina, I thought you changed too but you still talk your shit, eh?”

“I’m not talking shit!” She laughs, hands up in defence. “I’m just saying, you’re alike.” You hope that the laughter makes her forget the topic but it doesn’t.

“Where have you been?” She softens. She’s not asking to be mean, she’s asking out of concern. Why does that make it feel worse?

You tuck your hands in your pockets and retrain your eyes on hers, even if it feels bad. “Thought time and distance would heal all wounds.”

“Did they?”

Before you can answer, “Pen delivery, cousin!” Richie returns, triumphantly, with a pen and pad held high in the sky. He makes you jump for it. You elbow him in the gut, not hard. “Fuck off, Rich…” He keels over enough for you to grab it. “Thank you, chef.”

You turn back to Tina, who you now realize has spent half her smoke break on you. She nods to you, and then the bathroom door. “I’ll let you get back to it.” You nod in return. When she turns to walk away, you grab her shoulder.

“Tina.” She turns again. You should say something. Something vulnerable and thankful. Words of affirmation are not your thing. But maybe they could be, “If you end up with a dead plate—” Or maybe not.

She grins, and part of you is concerned by this, but she waves you off, giggling like she knows something you don’t. Already walking off. “You’re gonna be taken care of, Terry, don’t worry.”

This is a bad new nickname scheme. The fridge guy is just gonna end up being called ‘fridge guy’ if you take all his names.

It’s maybe three hours later. 11 am ish. You’ve finally put the toilet back in place, the pipes fixed underground— Which is a huge win of progress, the problem is, it’s just seemed to open the toilet’s ability to have other problems that need to be addressed. There’s a strong chance you’ll be here until you die. And even after that, this stupid toilet will still be gurgling, outliving you.

But you seriously have to eat something, so you scrub yourself clean, set your safety equipment down, and head out of the bathroom for a much-needed stretch of the legs— And to hopefully get a plate from Tina.

On your way to the kitchen, you’re stopped and walked backwards to a booth in the corner by Richie. “Hey, Miss, happy to serve you today, my name’s Richard but you can call me Richie, how’re you doin’ this fine morning?”

They’ve yet to open front of house, so you play along, taking your seat with a laugh. “I’m doing perfect, Richie, how are you?”

He nudges the air . “Ey, better now that you’re here, ah? Can I get a drink started for you?”

“Really gonna practice your set on me?”

He shrugs, still smiling. “If you don’t use it, you lose it.”

You hum, then rub your temples, the headache is setting in— Not cause of him, just been a tough morning. “Just your coldest fuckin’ glass of water, Rich.”

“Right away, Cousin.” He slips off into the kitchen.

When the door swings open again, it’s not Richie coming with your ice water, but Carmen— It’s your first time seeing him since the walk-in. When you came in this morning with Syd, it was Nat that gave you the quick briefing on the schedule and goals for today.

“Tony.” He hums, corners of his mouth just slightly upturned. The nickname has stuck. Goddamn. He sets the water down in front of you, along with a plate— Covered by a cloche—Or the silver lid thing, whatever.

“Carmy.” You only mean to mimic his tone, but then cringe. “Is Carmy fine?”

He pauses mid slide into the booth, sitting across from you. He seemed all cool and collected and is now suddenly extremely caught off guard. Already sweaty. “Y-yeah, I’m better, thank you—”

“No, I meant—” It is so difficult to hold back laughter. You deserve an Oscar.

You’re not doing great to be fair but like, still, Oscar worthy attempt.

“I meant like, like is the nickname okay?”

The horrors just keep piling on his face, and you can’t help but feel guilty. No shit he feels like he’s starting on a lower playing field here. You knew his dead brother, you know his Head Chef, your first time meeting him was at quite possibly his lowest moment and biggest mistake— Of which you had to coax him out of, and now he’s misunderstanding every innocent question you have for a inquiry into his psyche.

He clears his throat for objectively too long of a time. “Carmy is fine. Tony is fine?”

“I’m doing okay, yeah.”

Thank God, he laughs, awkward sure but objectively amused.

You nod down to the covered plate, smiling, “Fuck is this?”

He leans forward in his seat to get a hand over the lid. “I, uh. Made you a thing. As thanks or like, an— an apology.”

Ah. That’s why Tina was laughing about you getting taken care of.

He lifts the lid, and what is revealed, if you weren’t careful, would be enough to make you cry. Thankfully, the shock registers as uproarious laughter, one that Carmen cannot help but join.

“What the fuck?”

Pork brisket sandwich. Something that Mikey made for you, specifically. Because you said one time you were more of a pork fan than beef and he absolutely lost it. In a cute way, though. Said ‘Oh, I’ll make you fuckin’ pork, alright?’ You’re not sure if he won or lost the argument, because you did find it better.

“I, uh, we had some cuts left over that we weren’t gonna be able to fuckin’ use, and uh, Tina showed me this, this recipe card, last night.” He slides over the very same brisket recipe Mikey had written down. Little doodles of angry faces and Xs over pigs in the margins.

“He was so fuckin’ mad.” You snort, looking at it. “All I fuckin’ said was I had a preference!”

“In The Beef!”

“He asked!” You quickly defend, through laughter. “And it tastes fucking good. All he did was prove my fuckin’ point— And spent hours doing it. Were you here overnight for this, slowcooking?”

He shakes his head, though there’s a hesitation in it— So you’re not privy to completely believe him. He sniffs, swiping at his nose “I, uh, just came in early. Had to fix some shit anyways.”

He’s staring at the sandwich, then occasionally you, expectantly. You look at him with equal expectance.

“Well?” You start.

“Well?” He astutely adds.

You nod down at the dish. “Do the thing.”

“The thing?”

You pick up one half of the sandwich, but you’ve got no plans of eating until he satisfies this craving first.

“The thing Syd does where she explains why she’s proud of her dish and why I should care. I know it’s Mikey’s, but you clearly made changes.”

“Oh. Uh…” He was both expecting and not expecting this soap box. “So, followed the rub to a T— Well, with a salt bed, this time. Put it on brioche instead of the old shit. And I uh, added uhm—” He snaps his fingers, staring at the sandwich in your hand. “Added pickled red onion, for acid and sweet, and garlic confit. I’m—I’m happy with my spin on it.”

You whistle as a form of praise, he flushes with a glow of pride and is desperately trying to not show it. He’s proud because it’s curated, personal. Ah, he is Mikey good. You nod and take a bite, trying to control your reaction. Worst part about having Artists as friends (especially chefs): They fucking stare so hard when you’re taking in their work. And they’re over analyzing every micro expression. He’s no different.

Fuck. It’s fucking good. Is it bad that it’s better than anything Mikey ever made? Nah, that’s how he’d want it.

“Ah fuck, that sucks—” Is the first thing you say, and his face falls, “Expensive food is worth it.” Right back up. Easy to please. “It’s really good, Chef. Thank you. Did you try it yet?”

He shakes his head, so you push the plate with the other half of the sandwich— It’s brisket, anyways. You’ll be full by the end of this one. Portions generous. He looks momentarily hesitant, which is cute, but inevitably leans forward and takes the sandwich. He nods with each chew.

He hums when he finishes chewing, pointing emphatically at you, though his voice is neutral. “You don’t like something, though.”

“What?”

“What’s wrong with it?” He stares at into the cross section of his bite. “Chewy? Texture?”

“There’s nothing wrong with it.” You’re quick to deny.

He shakes his head, hand over his mouth to hide the sauce on his mouth. “M’not gonna be hurt.”

“There’s nothing wrong with the dish, Carmen.” You take another bite to prove your point. Also you’re hungry. Two things can be true.

He zones in on the emphasis immediately. “It’s the plate, isn’t it? I told Syd—”

“Your tables aren’t bolted.” You interrupt, swiftly. Mouth semi-full.

“Huh?”

You put your sandwich down and swallow, taking your time with it. “Your booth tables.”

You knock on the pristine wood with the joints of your left hand. You swivel your body to look under the table, he follows suit, meeting you there. His left leg has been violently shaking, but he’s thought you wouldn’t notice it until now.

You put a hand on his knee to stop the shaking. He bristles, slightly, but you’re not even doing it on purpose. Your focus isn’t on him. It was making the table imperceptibly shift— Which, of course, you clocked. You tap your foot to the bottom of the table leg. No screws. “They aren’t bolted down.”

You lift yourself back up, moving your hand back to yourself in tandem. He stares at it for a little longer. How you noticed that, he will never know. Repairmen are a different breed…

“I just thought it was a weird choice. Nothing wrong with it, per say. Maybe you wanna test different layouts.” You shrug, taking another bite.

“The booths aren’t bolted either.” He adds, lifting his head up above the table, finally. “I don’t— we’re not gonna fuck with the layout, I don’t think.”

“Should get Fak on that, then.”

“Fak’s big-timing us.” You cock your brow, mid chew. He explains. “He’s focusing on hosting, f'now.”

You nod, swallowing, hand in front of your mouth so you can lick the sauce off your upper lip in non-humiliated peace. “This another job for me, then?”

“If you’ll take it.”

“If your fuckin’ toilet doesn’t kill me, I will.”

“How’s that going?”

You shake your hand so-so. “Ask me in two to three hours how it’s going.”

“Heard.” He sighs, leaning back in the booth. The stress is too apparent not to ask.

“How’s the second day open going?”

“I’m not in a fuckin’ freezer, so that’s a win.” Oh-ho, he’s acknowledging it. You were very comfortable forgetting that moment for his sake. “Thanks, uh, f’ that.”

You shake your head, shrugging off the thanks. You lift your last few bites of the sandwich to him. “You’re good. You’ve gifted me brisket. You relax since?”

“Not really.” He replies bluntly, taking a deep inhale. He pulls at his face from the top down, with both hands. Oof. Bad sign. “I think I’ll be good by tomorrow. Gonna get off early, tonight.”

“You don’t seem happy about that.”

“Ask me in two t’ three days if I’m happy about it.”

Back to work and this is taking so much fucking longer than it needs to take. Why is there tape there? Fucking Richie. Fucking Fak. Fucking Mikey. Godssake. Pipes are fixed. Water pressure is fixed. What the fuck is still wrong with it? What the fuck is wrong with you? Everyone is going to hate you if you can’t fix this. You’ve been here for like 5 hours and you can’t figure out what’s fucking wrong here? You’re nothing. You’re—

The toilet does you the favour of knocking you out of your episode by spraying you in the fucking face, soaking through the top of your jumpsuit. With a groan, you unzip the upper half and tie the wet sleeves around your waist. “Son-of-a-bitch.”

Maybe you just need a change in task for a second. Also, a new t-shirt, because your tank did not survive the waterworks either. This room isn’t the thing you need right now. You slip down the hall to the kitchen. “Who needs a coffee? Or water?”

There’s a chorus of orders, all of which sound like you’ve just asked ‘who wants a gift from God?’, which, you might as well have. This is what you like about being a handyman. The relief you bring. You just need a smidge of praise to get through the rest of this job. You’ve got this.

The small, but serviceable coffee machine in very back of the kitchen calls your name, but Richie sticks his arm out, blocking you from walking past expo up front.

“Hol’ up, Cousin, you look like a fuckin’ wet dog.”

“Well, what ‘ya gonna do about it?” You retort, despite the retort not honestly making any sense, you put your hands on your hips. “Do you want a fuckin’ coffee or not?”

He rolls his eyes, falling back onto the balls of his feet before walking off. “Ey, Sug, are those shirts still in the basement—”

You’ve won for now. You scrub your hands clean before getting to work. This is good. Oooh, Marcus has fresh coffee beans (that he’s willing to share!)— This is easy. You can already fix most broken things, but a machine that actually fucking works? Baby, you can make that sing.

Plus, the bartending gigs you’ve done don’t make you a barista by any means, but they certainly don’t hurt. Oooh, Marcus has syrups! Fuck it. Steamed and frothed milk. That toilet has you on your ass, you need to go above and beyond here. Make each cup personal. You need a win in the form of admiration.

You gather a tray of coffees (and a water for Sweeps, who is too fucking sweaty for a hot drink right now, so fair), all varying in milks, sugars, syrups, intensity. “Coffee run, I hand ‘em out, don’t just take! Corner!”

Ebra, to no one’s shock, likes his coffee black— But, and he’ll tell no one this, you just know it on instinct— He likes it a little too watery. “Good.” Who are you to judge? He likes what he likes.

Tina would take hers black for simplicity, if you let her, but of course you don’t. 2 sugars, foamed milk, chocolate and cinnamon syrup. “Too good to me.” It’s too worth it, when she says it like that and slaps your cheek. Balm of the soul.

Marcus, who watched you make these, did opt to let his imagination run too wild and added one of every syrup to his own cup, wanting to experiment with you. It doesn’t taste good. You switch it for a spiced coffee when he’s not looking. He’s silently very thankful.

After handing out a few more to the new cooks, you come up to Syd. “Take this one, take this one.” Then whisper, so no one knows you are displaying supreme favouritism. “It’s the one oat milk latte I made.”

She turns to you from her station, then darts looks over her shoulder like she’s making an under the table deal before grabbing it from you. She takes a delighted sip, eyes rolling just slightly in the relief of caffeine, she nods. “Fire, Chef.” Ah. This will get you through the day alone.

It also gets you through the willpower it takes to ignore Fak running by you to steal a coffee off your tray. Out of the corner of your eye, you point to the one meant for him— As if you didn’t make it for him, c’mon…

“How’s bathroom?” Syd asks, taking another long sip.

I’m going to fucking explode, not unlike your drainage pipe. “Needed a thinking break, but I’ve made a lot of progress. How’s kitchen?”

“Made a lot of progress. Auto-piloting through this prep.” She looks down at her cutting board, cracking back to it. “Latte helps, a lot, thank you. You should join for family, if you’re still here for it. Unless you don’t want more brisket.”

Fuck. She doesn’t think you’re so slow that you’re gonna be here until family, does she? “Yeah, maybe.” You look around, three coffees still on the tray. “...Where’s Carmen?”

She grimaces. Uh oh. The tension she glossed over at breakfast is still definitely there. She nods her head to the back door. “Smoke break. Or temper tantrum. I don’t fuckin’ know. Don’t tell him I said that.” You laugh, nodding. “You think a coffee would help—” “Please.”

“Corner!” Yells Richie, returning to you. He silently flicks out a shirt for you, holding it up proudly, ‘THE BERF’ stares back at you. You give it a solid five seconds to process before you say anything.

“Collector’s item...” You nod, tone sarcastically impressed. You pivot your shoulder for him to throw it over, hands too busy.

“That’s what I fuckin’ said!” He throws it over your shoulder. “No one fuckin’ listens, these days.”

You bite back laughter and nod, handing him his coffee. Hot. Dark. Two sugars. And, to his delighted surprise, a touch of cinnamon syrup. “Oh, fuck, missed your twists, Chip.”

You wince at what was a long-forgotten nickname, and so does Richie. Funny how remembering origins can do that to you. He’d just said it so instinctively, really. “My bad—”

“Chip is good.” You interrupt, rolling your shoulders back. And it is good, really. “It’s kinda—It’s kinda comforting.” It’s nice to not forget. He nods, and you give each other the ‘we are still so fucked, eh?’ smile before lovingly bumping shoulders as he returns to expo and you head to the back alley.

Carmen’s squatting, cigarette in one hand, creating a halo of smoke around him, and his phone in the other. He snaps out of his mental fog when the door opens, slipping his phone into the pocket of his apron like he’s got a secret to hide.

You hesitate at the doorway, maybe this is not the moment. “Sorry, Chef, I just wanted to offer a coffee? If you need air alone—”

“No, no, I’m good—” He’s quick to correct, then even quicker to correct himself. “I— I’ll take a coffee, I mean. You can stay, s’fine.”

He reaches for it when you sit next to him, but you pull the tray back to hand him the correct one. “Sorry, I—I like, did a thing, for yours. I dunno how you take your coffee, so I thought I’d do it weird.”

He takes the cup, eying it curiously. “Do it weird?”

“Do it like, like a Chef. Can’t make anything fuckin’ simple. The lot of you.”

He hums, amused, staring at the cup, then looks at you expectantly. “Well?”

“Well?”

“Do the thing.”

You snort, shaking your head. “Oh, fuck off.”

“C’mon, tell me why I should care.” He teases.

“Ah, fuck.” You sniff, oh to have your own words turned on you. Looking at the coffee in his hands, “I figured you’d like strong black coffee, but like, complex. So, it’s got like, cardamom and lavender n’ maple syrup. Shout out Marcus.” He smiles. “And then, I know I did just say black coffee but I wanted the aesthetic so I spooned foamed milk on top and sprinkled on some dried lavender.” You take your own cup in hand, putting the tray down. “If you hate it, we’ll trade.”

He pays close attention to your explanation. Man, his eye contact is simultaneously so soft and so scary. He takes a sip. Let’s it sit in his mouth for a second. “Excellent, Chef.”

Oh, if Syd’s ‘Fire’ could get you through the day, Carmen’s ‘Excellent’ will get you through the week to spare. You hide the way you beam by drinking your own coffee.

“How’re you doing?” It’s far too obvious that he’s had something heavy on his head all day, but you’re not going to say the quiet part loud, yet.

He takes a long time to respond. “I, uh…” And when he does, it’s weak. “I’m alright, yeah. I’m alright.”

You nod repeatedly, digesting the huge lie. “Ask me how I’m doing.”

He squints. “…How’re you—”

“Fuckin’ terrible, Carm.” You cut him off, putting your cup down next to him, standing up. You speak emphatically, gesturing with your whole body.

“I’m at my wits, Chef. Completely out of my depth. I fix the main pipe, I fix the water pressure, I triple check the tank, I fuckin’ power cycle the valve— I’m absolutely at a loss as to why it’s still gurgling— Why it shot water straight at my tits— Close your eyes, if you care, by the way.”

With barely any warning you peel off your tank top, you’ve got a bra, it’s fine. It’s very cute that he still looks away. You slip the new shirt over your head as you speak, muffling the words.

“—I’m wearing a shirt that says Berf, and the only way I can feel any semblance of not being utterly useless is by making coffees so good everyone has to praise me for them. And now I’m telling the fucking owner, my boss for the day all this.”

He nods, slowly. There is perhaps, not a single person in his life that has ever been this forthright. Someone he hasn’t had to over-analyze or dig into to figure out what’s actually going on. It is refreshing, terrifying, and for some reason, removing your walls have completely shattered his.

“So.” You lower your head to his level where he sits. “How are you doing, Chef?”

He takes a long sip of his coffee. Stews on the question before he spills his guts, calmly. “I’m sitting outside of the restaurant I started that I own, and my brother should be here, but he’s not and— And I was locked in a fuckin’ freezer on my opening night, which was my own fuckin’ fault— And the tape is wrong and the painting is stupid and that new hire did meth so now we’re down one.” He takes a deep breath.

“And we have Heinz instead of Frenchies, and it’s fine. That’s the fucked part— It’s fine. The ship did not sink without me— It went fine. Better, maybe. My problems aren’t fuckin’ problems. I’m just making it worse for myself— everyone. And I know Syd is mad at me, and I know my— My girlfriend? Is mad at me, and I know that I’m gonna break up with her tonight because I’m not meant to be— that.” He says the last part fast, more to himself than you, really. And then he finally looks back up at you.

“And I’m telling all of this to the person who saved me from hypothermia and a fuckin’—Fuckin’ meltdown, who probably thinks— knows that I’m a psycho.”

You take a beat before nodding, sitting next to him again, arms crossed. Silent. Contemplative. “I have thoughts.”

He nods, taking a drag. “Don’t pull punches.”

“Well, to start most honestly, we must remember, I love Syd. So, I’m not gonna mince about her.”

“Heard.”

You recall everything Sydney had told you at breakfast. The recap of how she got to this point. “Syd isn’t mad at you, she’s disappointed and distrustful.”

He grimaces. “That sounds worse.”

“It is.”

“Oh.”

“But in a way you can fix.”

“How?”

“Handle shit different. Actually show up to shit and make calls. Manage your priorities by urgency— Not by favourites. If I broke my fuckin’ arm and your ‘girlfriend’ had a runny nose, who are you taking to the hospital?”

“You can’t take yourself?”

“Bitch?”

“Kidding. Heard. What else?”

“You’re not gonna tell her I said this because she would rather die than tell someone she wants something.” You lean closer to him, peeking over your shoulder to make sure no one’s secretly come from the kitchen. You knock into his knees.

He takes another drag, short, choked. “Sure.”

“You were kind of a bitch about the menu.”

“The chaos menu? She said—”

“She fucking lied. She lied when she said it was fine, Carm, it does not take a psychic to read Syd’s mind.” You interrupt, taking a sip of your coffee. “She was so excited to get to build a menu, especially with—” you, “—a partner, and then you completely ditched her. And then you just made your own! Total control freak shit! Cut her out of the fun part of being head chef completely! You get to invent masterpieces and she picks out the best cheap plate? Fuck is that?”

He nods contemplatively, poking his inner cheek. “Yeah, that, that makes sense. That’s shitty.” He turns his gaze from looking ahead to face you, hand over the bottom half of his face. “What else?”

“You’re reactive.”

“No shit.”

“How long do you think you were locked in the walk-in for?”

He swallows, thinking. “Like… an hour?”

“It had been 23 minutes.”

“Oh.”

“You catastrophize, it’s a fancy therapy word,” You cannot help but be impressed by this white man writing down the word in his phone for later. “It means, basically, when something bad happens you blow it completely out of proportion into something it isn’t. Your opening night was definitely a bummer from being in a freezer— But be honest with yourself, would you have let yourself have a good night if you weren’t in there?”

“…No.”

“No. Which is also bad. Which brings me to my key point.”

He tenses up, preparing for you to rip into him further.

“You’re doing a good job, Carmy.”

He immediately swivels back to you, almost dropping his phone. Knee knocking into yours. “Fuck off.”

“I will not.”

“You just said I was a catastrophe.”

“Fully not what I said.”

“I read between the lines.”

“Carmen.”

You take a breath, putting your arms on your knees, bent over. “The restaurant is beautiful, your cooks are talented and they’re prepared— So prepared that they can handle 23 minutes without you. That’s a good thing. You’re threaded into The Bear— The ship didn’t sink, not because you weren’t there, but because you had been. Everyone had the tools they needed to succeed, even with Heinz, a Mid painting, and torn tape. And listen—” You take one last sip of your coffee. “You need to check your ego if you think you’re the first man I’ve coaxed through a panic attack while doing a repair.”

He laughs, half-heartedly. He scratches his nose. “Heard. Yeah, thank you, Chef.”

“I don’t know shit about the meth thing though, I really couldn’t tell you.” You smile when this coaxes a better laugh out of him. You’re considering a career in stand up exclusively for him because it feels like such a reward to hear it.

“And the girl?” He asks. Amusement tinging but leaving his voice.

You click your teeth, shrugging your shoulders at him. “Based purely on your hesitation to say girlfriend, I’d say yeah, probably not ready for a relationship.” You reach your hand out to his shoulder when he flops his head down. “But, just asking, is this your first relationship?”

He thinks for too long before nodding slightly. “First one.”

“First restaurant too?”

He nods again.

“Yeah.” You pat his shoulder before letting it go, opting to hold your cooling cup. “I know you’re a Michelin star fuckin’ big deal but like, me personally, I can’t name a thing I got perfect the first time I did it.”

There’s something in his eyes, when you say that. Something wistful, nostalgic, hurt? No. Something different.

“It’s not that I didn’t do perfect—”

“You’ll do better next time.”

He wrings his hands together between his knees. “Yeah.”

“You’re gonna be fine, Carm.”

“You’re good at that.” He sniffs, head down, scratching his nose.

“At what? Self-help?”

He exhales what just barely sounds like a laugh. “Kinda. S’just, when you say it, you say it in a way where I actually believe it.”

You’re getting the fuck out of here before they open for dinner. You’re not letting anyone down tonight motherfucker. The Berf shall prevail. Maybe a win here will feel like a win for Carmen, too.

You run the sink to wash your hands, as you’ve done before here— But since fixing the pipes and the pressure… Something’s… different. You pause your scrubbing, listening closely.

…

When the sink is running, the gurgling flow of water from the toilet stops. Huh. You stop and start the faucet a few times to verify this. Yeah. You stare for a long moment before connecting the dots, then punch the sink in realization.

“Fucking Mikey!”

“What’d he do this time?”

You twist around. Ah, other sibling. Natalie. Clipboard in hand, business ready. You take a beat before remembering to smile, nodding to the sink behind you. “He connected the tank flow to the toilet and the sink with one wire.”

She tilts her head, squinting. “Why would he do that?”

“I suspect to save water?” You spin around, kneeling down to look behind the sink. “I think the idea was to have the sink not function when the toilet is flushing. But, it uh, well, did the reverse, kinda. Toilet doesn’t function when the sink isn’t running.”

“Oh.”

“So uh,” You shut the valve under the sink. “Your water bill should go down a little after this, since it won’t be running into what is an essentially a second trap pipe.”

“Oh!” Did she get what you said? No. But she doesn't need to. She heard ‘bill should go down’ and that’s really all she needed. “Thank you!”

“Not a problem. S’my job.” You stand, shutting off the valve to the toilet as well. As you kneel down to work again, you feel her gaze burning into your back. You don’t turn to face her. “You have questions.”

“Oh, ah… Am I so obvious—?”

“Yes.” You’re too quick to answer, unbolting the wires where it attaches to the toilet and the ground. You sniff with a panicked, “Ah, uh, it’s endearing.”

She’s quiet, for a moment. She doesn’t ask you what she actually wants to ask you, and you know that. “Well, I’ll need to exchange info for your invoice.”

“Ah, don’t worry ‘bout that, your brother already covered it.” You stand once more, before going to the sink to undo it’s valve, you fish through the deep pocket of your jumpsuit, pulling out a crumpled business card and handing it to her.

“But it’s good to have my info on hand, for sure. It’s ah… Kinda old.” Kinda is an understatement. Your dad’s name is still on it, scribbled out in pen and replaced with yours. The dead business line is also scribbled out in exchange for your personal cell.

“It’s uh… I usually only work for friends and family, these days, so I’ve kinda stopped trying to keep up appearances.”

She smiles at it. Thank God, she finds it charming and not sloppy. She tucks it into the clasp of her clipboard. “That’s fine, we are friends and family.”

All you can do is nod, pivoting to the sink. There's a beat of peace.

“Didn’t see you at the funeral.”

Ah. There it is. For a Bear, she sure knows how to poke one. You stutter in unscrewing the bolt.

“Would’ve been nice to meet you, then.”

You clear your throat, it's strangled. “Yeah, I think I was trying to avoid introductions, honestly. Grief comes in different ways, eh?”

“Does it?”

“Mine does.” You swallow, unbolting the wire. With it free, you can just yank it out of the wall. God, forgive your brain, but Mikey was right, she does like to fight. Too bad you don’t.

She just hums in reply, watching you pull the wire from the wall. “You’re a real lifesaver.”

Fuck. Fuck. Lifesaver? Is she fucking with you?

“That toilet sprayed me right in the face, yesterday. And you saved Carmen.” There’s an amused lilt to her voice. She’s not fucking with you. “There’s something about a handywoman that Fak cannot match.”

You can hear a faint ‘Hey!’ through the walls. You laugh through an exhale.

“Again, s’my job. I do my best. Did uh, what was it, Terry come by for the walk-in? I wasn’t looking when I was there.”

You sort through your tools, deciding caulking the holes closed is probably the best option.

“He came over basically overnight to fix it, bless him, still don’t know his name.”

You laugh, it’s a little strangled. So Carmen did stay overnight. He must’ve. You smooth out the caulk with your thumb and a palette knife. Blending it into the grout as best as you can. “Good. Good.”

You dust yourself off. Standing. “Well. That’s uh. That’s my job done. Carmen asked me about—”

“Bolting down the booths?” She nods, checking the time on her watch. There’s not enough time before lunch to do it now. Plus you don’t have the screws. “You’re free to come by in the morning tomorrow—”

“But?” You interrupt, throwing your tool bag over your shoulder.

“But?”

“You said free like you’ve got a preference, what do you prefer?”

She chuckles, slightly. There is something about you that feels familiar. “If you could come after close tonight around 12, that would be nice—”

“It’s done. I’ll be there.”

“Lifesaver. I'll give you the code.”

Fuck.

Always gotta give the reader/mc some sort of mysterious background that even you don't have all the info on. Always.

Hehehehe, again, we're slowing this burn so much. Strangers to Friends to lovers but they're both so comfortable in friends it's hard to move !!

Forewarning, btw, if you've already sunk 10k worth of words into your brain for me (thank you!! I hope you've enjoyed!!), I've never written smut before and I feel like I probably will not build up the courage to do so by the end of this series, but I could prove myself wrong, I dunno. But warning in case that's your thing!! I might blue ball you babe!!

Pretty please tell me your thoughts or I'll eat my Berf shirt. Collector's value!! Thrown away!!

Next Part

#carmen berzatto imagine #carmy berzatto #carmy x reader #carmen x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto #the bear fx #carmy the bear #the bear x you #the bear #the bear x reader #the bear fanfiction

[five-rivers]

My Kingdom of Fish poll fiction! Continued from here.

.

After a small amount of dithering, Danny took the cameras. He was here to show his parents the library, and he couldn't do that if they couldn't see it. The ambient array could collect data here as well as anywhere else. The Fenton Finder's 23rd iteration was as buggy as the first. He'd actually done a small amount of sabotage to the ‘self-defense system’ to make it safe to carry around, so… Yeah.

The only things he felt at all bad about leaving were the medical monitors and the environmental safety detectors. Both of those had helped him in the past. The Lost Library was supposed to be safe, though. It wasn't a truce zone or anything, but people didn't go there to fight, and the librarians were supposed to take care of any environmental dangers that popped up (mostly because things that could endanger ghosts could certainly endanger books). The Library of Tongues did that, anyway.

He did have to rearrange and remove some of the cameras, especially the redundant ones and the ones that weren't taking his amplified aura well, so that they fit on his much-reduced frame, but they were made to be serviceable, and soon he was ready.

The coat room, as it turned out, was right behind the reception desk.

“There are doors that aren't visible or that won't open for you unless you're a member or have a badge,” the librarian explained as she put the equipment on a shelf. “Another reason not to lose yours.”

“Where's the way in?” asked Danny.

“This way.”

The librarian led him back around, then to the side of the desk. Here, again, the wall had folded back into a set of doors, this one more ornate.

“The copyist's room attendants will meet you down the hallway,” said the librarian, sitting back down at her desk.

Danny nodded. “Thank you.”

The hallway forked right sharply. A ghost woman with bronze skin and dark hair was waiting there, not far from the corner. There was a spiral on the center of her forehead in what looked like gold wire under her skin. The outside end of it disappeared under her hairline.

“Oh my,” she said, hiding her mouth behind a pair of bell-like sleeves, “you’re so cute. Iphigenia didn’t tell me you were cute.”

Danny made a face.

“Ah! Precious! How old are you?”

“I was fourteen when I died,” said Danny, flatly. “I don’t know why places like this make me tiny, but I’m not.”

“You must be young at heart.”

Danny squinted at her.

“Mm? Are you looking at this?” she asked, pointing at her spiral. Danny shrugged, then nodded. He hadn’t been, not really, but in the interest of changing the subject… “It’s what members of the library have instead of another alteration. It’s like the fires you get at the Library of Tongues.” The spiral moved, retreating, unwinding, vanishing under her hair and then spiraling out onto the palm she offered up to Danny. “It’s called the Lìshǐ Yánxù De Jīn Xiàn, although ghosts from western cultures call it Ariadne’s String. No sense of pride for their work, I swear.” She shook her head. “So, if you get lost, or need help finding something, find someone with one of these, okay? We have a pretty big children's collection, believe it or not.”

“I'm not really a child.”

“Oh! So mature!” She poked his cheek, then stood up and opened the door behind her. “Let’s get you situated.”

The copyist’s room was large and brightly lit, lined with beehive-like cubbies that served as shelving for scrolls. There were several work tables spread throughout the room, and a mid-sized manual printing press. There were two other ghosts in the room. One, a stressed-looking larger man with a curly, box-cut beard, and the other a severely thin, angular man with a long, looping tail.

Both wore guest badges, and both had features that did not seem to match the rest of their appearances. The severe-looking man had large, fluffy, soft-looking wings with feathers that twitched and shifted near constantly. He had a quill badge clipped to the belt of his tunic. The other, larger man had moth antennae and wings, but also enormous, ribbed bat ears. He had not one but two badges attached to his robe-like wrap, the candle and the gong.

“Now,” said the attendant, “I know you said that you wanted to do Ancient Greek to English, and when people say Ancient Greek, they mean Ancient Greek from Life, not old Zone dialects, but the Mausoleum of Macaria tipped into the Acheron a few weeks ago, and were swamped with Elysian, Asphodelian, and Tartarian Greek. Especially Tartarian Greek. Would you mind doing something from one of those? It would be much shorter than what we'd give you in regular Ancient Greek, only a few pages.”

She looked at him hopefully.

“It would really help if you knew any of them,” she added.

#danny phantom #kingdom of fish #poll fic #choose your own adventure #dannymay #dannymay 2024

[calisaalutforchriss]

★"why the mood, ma?"★

summary: y/n is a bit on the chubbier side (so cute). so being seen in the public eye with chris sturniolo as your boyfriend is kinda challenging. so when you face hard comments, chris is there for you.

a/n: this is my first time writing...if you hate i understand, so do i!! anywho, extreme fluff warning!! use of y/n, name calling like ma, baby girl, babe, etc. kissing, hugging, cuddling, etc. NO SMUT!! i need grammarly guys <3

y/n sighed to herself as she looked in the long mirror in the corner of chris and y/n's room. she plops on her bed, her head low and fidgeting with her fingers. shes always been insecure about her body. she wasnt fat. but she also wansnt skinny. chubby? no. thick? no. what?! she was losing her mind, before realizing her phone was ringing, she quickly picked it up when she saw chris's name.

"hey baby. where are you?"

y/n asks, pulling the covers over her chest. she had on a baggy Metallica tee and tight, black, leggings.

"almost home, i just left the gym"

"gym?..."

since when did chris go to the gym?...

"yeah, i love you baby, i be home soon."

chris hangs up

y/n sighs, she was bored so she went on instagram, what any average person would do. she decided to chris's. he posted a gym photo. y/n smiles at it, she looks at the comments. nick...matt...nate...nothing new. then...she saw a very weird comment.

"no wonder y/n isnt with you at the gym! you deserve better! shes a big fat whaleeee🐋🐋🐋🐋🐋"

y/n's eyes water, she turns off her phone and puts it on her nightstand. she turns over and sucks it up, she says nothing. no text. no call. nothing.

"I'm home!'

chris yells out to cali as he gets into their room, putting his bag down. he sees her, asleep. he smiles

"wake up sweet girl."

chris whispers softly to her, getting into bed with her. his movements wake her up.

"what?"

y/n asks, half asleep

"hey baby. how was your nap?"

"fine."

y/n says flatly. chris was a bit suprised, y/n is usally so happy to see chris when he gets home. she was like a dog when he got home. excited, happy, energetic.

"everything alright?"

"yes."

y/n gets out of the bed

"hey! im still talking to you baby!"

"i dont wanna talk to you."

chris felt his heart break a bit. what did she just say?

"baby. come here."

"no."

y/n says, putting on her ugg slippers

"come. here. now."

y/n turns around, looking at chris.

"what?"

"what happened?"

y/n suddenly feels a lump in her throat. it wanted to immerge. now.

"people."

y/n starts to cry, tears going down her cheeks, her face falling into her hands. chris was still laying in the bed, watching her.

"oh, sweet girl. come here."

chris opens his arms and lifts up the blanket, inviting her to lay with him.

"baby, please tell me what happened."

y/n nods her head softly

"this person...they fat shamed me and called me names"

y/n sniffles and wipes her tears on her hands

"shit, these people always piss me off. im so so sorry baby."

chris pets her head softly, laying kisses on her temple

"its fine, baby. i just hate it."

"you're not even fat. you're curvy. more to hug, cuddle, and kiss. especially squeeze."

this made both chris and y/n laugh. they smiled and looked at each other.

"i love you."

y/n says softly, not breaking eye contact

"i love you more"

chris tucks hair behind her ears

"no you dont"

tysm for reading, im so sorry this is ass cheeks 😜😜😜😜

#@folklvrsworld #@thefroggyboggy #chris fs #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo #smut #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets #fluff

[axyer]

"(FUCK YOU YOU AQUAMARINE ANGRY LITTLE SHIT!)"

Atop the tall podium, rinsed in an iridescent, golden hue, a celestial rim washing down each corner; trimmed by a dusty silver, shivering with a pearly shine.

"[WHAT DID I DO, HUH? EXACTLY WHAT? DID I STAND WRONG? DID MY EYESIGHT MAKE YOU JEALOUS? AM I OFFENDING YOU WITH MY ABILITY TO SHUT UP?]"

The audience, cornered in the nooks of their seats, twitched and bowed at the rancorous uproar.

"(WELL IIIIIII'M SORRY, I HAD TO CARRY US ALLLLLL THE WAY HERE, YOU GODDAMN CUCK!)"

"Guys…" A well-heighted man, head the shape and hue of a noble planet. "You both won, you don't have to–"

"[WHAT DO YOU MEAN 'CARRY', YOU TURKEY-BRAINED BODY ODOUR-FRAGRANTED PURPLE MASS OF DEPRESSED RODENTS?]" Mind tightly roared from the crease of his lips, whipping his brand new sun trophy onto the podium; a hard, metallic clatter snapping into the flooring. "[IF IT WEREN'T FOR ME, WE WOULDN'T EVEN HAVE INFORMATION OUT THERE ABOUT OUR RIGHTS TO THIS SEAT!]"

"(ARE YOU KIDDING? EVERY CHONNY JASH FAN LOVES ME! I'VE GOT FUCKING APOLOGISTS! YOU'VE GOT PEOPLE WHO FRAME YOU AS THE NARRATIVE'S VILLAIN 'COS YOU SUCK THAT BAD!)"

"[YEAH, AND WHO WAS THE ONE WHO SET UP YOUR KEYBOARDS? AND TRANSLATED SHEET MUSIC INTO SOMETHING YOUR SORRY ASS COULD UNDERSTAND? AND–]"

"(SHUT–)"

"[AND FIGURED OUT HOW TO SET UP YOUR STUPID FUCKING AIR-CONDITIONER, BECAUSE–]"

"(I PAY FOR YOUR PAINKILLER PRESCRIPTION!)"

"['(OHHHHH, I CAN'T FOCUS IN THE HEAT! BUT I WEAR BAGGY HOODIES AND TWO-LAYERED PYJAMAS AND)–']"

"(AT LEAST I DON'T EAT MY GOLDFISHES!)"

"[AT LEAST I DON'T PLAY FNAF SONGS ON THE PIANO AT FOUR IN THE GODDAMN MORNING!]"

"(I WROTE THE BEST SONGS FOR OUR ALBUM! WITHOUT ME, OUR STORY OF HOW WE SUFFERED (MOSTLY BECAUSE OF YOU) WOULD'VE NEVER BEEN KNOWN!)"

"[NAME ONE PERSON WHO USES GOOD DAY AS AUDIO!]"

Words torn from mouth and crashing into each timorous ear surrounding the two, pronounced in a very ired, Australian tongue.

Arms furiously stretched and swung and feet stamped to enunciate visible outrage.

"Yeesh, Moon… I always thought our relationship was bad, but it seems like sun and moons across the universe can get so much worse…" Sun shivered, a quick tug on his coarse yet metallic collar, punctuated by a swift glance to his lunar counterpart. "Over where we're from, we have to deal with living in a giant animatronic mall and occasionally the works of cross-dimensional madness. But over there, it seems to me they really need to learn a lesson about getting along!"

"I could take them in a fight with a small dresser tied to my dominant hand." Moon stared, unblinking, body as stiff as a long rock.

The other contestants watched as the words were rocked and tossed in a staggering hatred.

At one point, Heart's wings had enlarged to mimic that of a threatened bird inflating its stance to appear larger; Mind's chest hummed with the overwork of his fans.

Suns and moons from all sorts of solar systems stationed across the multiverse watched in horror.

Two of them were those guys from Nimona, but I don't know dick about shit about Nimona so you gotta use your imagination for that one.

"Right right, you two have your trophy, just…" The celestial staff member disarmingly motioned their hands, gazing down at the two halves. "What are you going to do with your prize money?"

"(Oh, I'm probably gonna use it on an invasive wildflower and a seven hundred AUD life-sized Lopunny plush.)"

"[To pay off my severe prescription zolmitriptan debt that I'm four months behind on because I spent half my yearly salary on a car that I ended up crashing because of a migraine.]"

Happy tiny niche fandom winning against FNaF and Nimona for all who celebrate

Reblogs > Likes

#chonny jash #cccc #chonny's charming chaos compendium #cj hms #the Sun and moon duo tournament #cj mind #cccc mind #chonny jash mind #hms mind #cj heart #chonny jash heart #cccc heart #hms heart #cccc fic #chonny jash fic #cj fic #hms fic #cw profanity

[moldycantaloupe]

Mushy May Day 11

(Bonus prompt 8) first kiss

Pairing; Mountain/Dewdrop

note; this is during Era III

thanks as always to @forlorn-crows for the prompts!

Dew could not stop looking at that tall ass earth ghoul throughout the show, which was bad for the show.

He wanted to hate him, he wanted to hate that overly chilled out ghoul for so long, but it was so hard when he was just so loveable and caring. He made Dew’s coffee sometimes and it was always better than how he made it. At the ministry he would always do a double check on Dew right before Mass, sometimes he even found something to fuss over. He grew flowers for him, for hell’s sake. He was so caring, and it was so infuriating.

And oh, the passion that Mountain possessed. He treated his kit better than Dew ever treated his bass. He always did double, triple checks preshow to make sure he would be good to perform at his peak. And his peak was just… peak. He swung his sticks and kicked his legs and whatever else with so much enthusiasm, it was almost overwhelming to watch.

It was after bows, and Dew couldn’t get off of stage any faster to try and catch that lanky ghoul. Mountain was chatting with Ifrit about something, something that he honestly could care less about, because he needed to be with Mountain, needed to do something with him.

“Mount!” Dew called out. Mountain turned and stopped, his eyes striking against the chrome of the mask. He tilted his head in a question and Dew simply grabbed his forearm and began walking. Ifrit whistle “go get ‘em!” that he promptly ignored with a huff.

“What’s going on, droplet?” Mountain was ironically stumbling trying to keep up with the water ghoul. Dew gave him no answer and pushed the two of them to a small corner in the venue, somewhere away from prying eyes and any rush of people. He rangled his masks off and stared up at Mountain, breathing heavily. Mountain reluctantly did the same, carefully clicking the mask and balaclava off of his face. His brows were furrowed together and Dew could see his lips form a small frown.

“What’s going on?” Mountain asked again, his voice hushed. Dew shook his head and laughed, what a scene he accidentally created.

“Sorry, nothing, uh-” he took a deep breath and looked back into those eyes, the concern now turned confusion. He smiled slightly, baring his fangs. “You just… I just wanted to say good job. Tonight.”

Mountain blinked at him. “You’re hiding me away to… compliment me?” He chuckled. “Seems pretty excessive, yeah?”

“Yeah, well…” he worried his lip between his teeth, a habit he can already hear Aether lecture to him about again, and sighed. “Good job, man.”

Mountain smiled, bright and genuine. He reached a hand down and rested it against Dew’s cheek, a gesture he leaned into with a hum. Dew could see the cogs rotating in that head of his, something he did often. It was always a good way to get to actually look at him without the problem of being caught.

But those cogs seemed to be working tonight. Slowly, slow enough that Dew could back out at any point, Mountain leaned low and close. Dew met him halfway, hands unsure what to do but hung out in the air as their lips pressed together in a chaste kiss. A peck, really. They leaned their foreheads together, eyes locked in a fierce staring contest that was way too intimate to be anything challenging. Mountain kissed him one more time, smiling into it.

“Thanks.” He mumbled when he pulled away.

#lou writes #mushy may 2024 #the band ghost #nameless ghouls #dewdrop ghoul #mountain ghoul #mountain x dewdrop

[sunflower-author]

HI i've been obsessed with akaashi atm so could you do yandere akaashi

he'd be such a sneaky yandere since he's so observant and memorises your little mannerisms and personality. he knows just what to say to you and other people as well to get you all to himself

anyway idm what you do, have fun with it!! hope you have a good day <33

SORRY IK IT IS SUPER LATE, AND I TRULY WANTED TO DO THIS!!

ALSO I WAS RAMBLING A LOT BUT HOPE YOU LIKE IT;)

~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^

      It's a Friday and school just ended, you go to the usual spot to meet Akaashi before he has to practice. A bench under the tree, on the opposite side of the gym, giving you guys time to talk, before making it to the gym.

After some time you see Akaashi turn the corner, from sitting on the bench you stand up to greet him. Smiling as you make your way toward him. 

"There you are, I was wondering if you ever were gonna come," you say jokingly.

"Sorry, that was my bad I was caught up with some schoolwork," Akaashi says. In reality, he was writing in his notebook about you. He has a notebook, where he keeps specific tabs about you. Your likes and dislikes, also including plans about what he would want in the future, plans like...

.

.

.

"Y/N, I was wondering if after practice today, would you want to come over to my house to study?" Akaashi says walking.

"Sure, our AP test is coming up, and I'll be lucky if I get 3/5," you say shyly, following after him. (Headcanon that Akaashi takes AP classes) *ALSO I SWEAR I'M GONNA FAIL THAT TEST!!!*

"No comment," Akaashi says as he continues to walk.

"Hey why'd you say that?" you ask, confused and a bit offended.

"Well.. what did you think I would say?" Akaashi asks curious.

"I don't know, just not that, maybe something encouraging at least," you say, trying to defend yourself.

"If I say something encouraging either one, you would hype yourself up thinking your gonna do well,  then do just below that, and get all sad and guilty," 

"When have I ever done anything like that?" you ask not believing that you would do anything like that.

 "Remember your Biology finial, you said that you wanted to get at least a 90, I said how you've been studying so your gonna do amazing, but then you got 89. You ended up with a B for that class, you stayed in you room a whole week during summer, all depressed."

"It dropped my perfect GPA," you say defending yourself.

"Or two, you would study all the time till you only do well on that one test and forget about the rest, before you say anything, midterms... Your lucky it was only midterms."

"That only happened once," In your defense you learned never to try that again.

Rolling his eyes he finally says "Or three, if I encourage you right now, you might not take studying seriously and think you can just wing the test, and therefore end up failing."

"Oh yeah.. I do that one a lot don't I," you say embarrassed.

"You have been improvising a lot more than you usually have, now that I think about it, is something wrong?" Akaashi asks concerned.

"Oh.. you've noticed that?" you ask as you stopped walking, looking down ashamed. " I admit that I have not been studying as much as before... I just feel like I'm burning out... or maybe I am burnt out..." 

Akaashi going right in front of you, he just pats your head, it may seem small, but it is your favorite form of affection from him. 

"You know it is normal to be burnt out, the important and most hardest part is overcoming it. I'm always free when you need me. If you want I'll skip practice today, we can just go straight to my house," Akaashi offers.

"That's very sweet of you Keji, but the volleyball team really needs you. You're the only one who can handle Bokuto, and I can't imagine how sad Bokuto would be when he finds out you're not there today." You reassure him.

"You know I care about you, more than I care about volleyball and Bokuto, just say the word and we can go to my house," Akaashi says, persisting.

"Keji, pretty soon is the Spring Nationals, you need to prepare, I'll meet you after your practice," you say as you start to part ways.

Unexpectedly Akaashi follows you grabbing you hand softly.

"Where are you going," he asks. Normally you would wait for him in the gym's girls locker rooms, till his practice is over, since there was air condition inside.

"I thought that today.. I would go stay in class and wait for you, maybe study a bit before.. so that you don't need to catch me up on anything, then we can study faster tonight," you said.

"What are you hiding?" he ask.

"I'm not hiding anything," you said defending yourself.

"You're avoiding eye contact with me, you keep scratching your neck, and your more defensives than normal, I can tell when you are trying to hide something Y/N," he said. After a few more moments of silence you finally confessed.

"Alright fine... one of my friends invited me to join track practice today, I know you don't want to join any sports, but it was just a practice, I'm not going to join," you said admittingly.

"Was that all you were trying to hide?" Akaashi asks, acting surprised. "I'm sorry if you felt like that was something you had to hide from me," his words so soothing, hiding the venom within.

"It was just because whenever I tell you about a club I was going to join you would always turn the idea down, or convince me not to do the club," 

"That is not true-"

"Soft tennis, kyudo, archery, ice skating, and now track and field," you cut him off, apparently Akaashi was not the only one that was keeping tabs on their partner.

"I just don't want you getting hurt, and plus who knows...  what if you get too involved in the sport and fall behind in school, also when you compete would you be willing to do it, all eyes would be on you, I know you get anxious in a crowd, and when you compete your coach, teammates, friends would all be counting on you," Akaashi explains.

"Yeah your right," you say, realizing that you shouldn't have thought about ever joining a sport, there would be no way you would be able to handle the stress and pressure. 

"I just thought I would be cool to have a sport since your in volleyball, I didn't want you to think I was lazy or something," you say timid.

"I would never think that about you, I know how much you study, how much you help your family around the house, I would never think of you as lazy," He says commending. "But just out of curiosity what type of event would you have picked if you were to do track and field?" he ask.

"It would be pole vault," you say. Hearing those words Akaashi was so glad to have convinced you not to. 

Pole vaulter's have upper body strength, and in the emergency of him kidnapping you, with you having some upper body strength it would just be irritating. He would win though. 

"Pole vault?" he asks, hesitantly.

"Is there a problem?" you ask curiously.

"It is just that pole vaulting is one of the most hardest events, and you're just going to jump into trying it," is all he says. 

But that was more than enough. What were you thinking, trying to pole vault, your in your 3rd year. Image trying to practice, how underclassmen will just see how bad you are. They must be way better, the season started 1 month ago. Also there was other events practicing too, image all those eyes on you.

"Yeah your right, it was just a dumb idea, I'm gonna text my friend that I'm busy," you said as you pulled up your phone, and started texting.

As you start to walk towards the gym with Akaashi following behind you.

#tw yandere #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere oneshot #yandere x darling #yandere x female reader #yandere x gender neutral reader #yandere x gn reader #yandere x male reader #yandere x reader #yandere post #yandere male #male yandere #yandere haikyuu #yandere akaashi #yandere akaashi keji #yandere keji akaashi

[james-is-here]

It's been almost year...next month. Small little thing, not very long.

Blogs: @belladonna6-6-6 @demtttt @heartbinn @succubus-hansol @leezanetheofficial @yongbokkk

You were struggling and you stopped looking for help after people said you were overreacting but his videos were the only think that helped you push through your training.

You've yet to meet him despite being in the same building. You did see him but you've only waved at each other and the others.

They were your idols, your inspiration, you wanted to get good enough to be on the same level as them and Chan's videos always made you feel safe.

When you heard that they knew you, you couldn't stop freaking out. Chan had mentioned how hard the trainees he's seen have been working and he mentioned you specifically, saying that he once peaked in for a couple minutes and watched you practice and it made you so happy that your work is pulling off.

Then they stopped. You sat around the usual time he'd go live but there was nothing but you you stayed hopeful. He might've been busy, maybe it'll be a monday live you told yourself but there was no monday live.

You stayed optimistic for a week...

a month...

two months....

three months...

Eventually you crashed, you gave up and realized that he's stopped completely. You watch his old videos but it's not the same, it brings comfort but not the same as when you're watching for the first time.

Then he goes live for his birthday and you couldn't help but cry, finally getting to watch Chan live again and you stayed for the whole live, your heart swelling when he got a goose plush, the same one you've had since you were a kid.

When he started to close up the live you waited, holding your breath and tears, balled up in the corner of the practice room you occupied and hoping that he'd do it but when the live ended and there was nothing, your heart sank and your tears of joy turned into tears of pain.

You miss the Chan Stay use to have, you miss his big hugs. "What happened to sunbaenim..." You cry softly, pulling your hoodie tighter around you and crossing your arms over your knees before burying your face in your arms.

"Woah, hey, you okay?" Some one is kneeling next you you and you raise your head, wiping your tears away before looking away and hiding your face. "I-It's s-stupid...I-I just m-miss s-someone..." "You from here or out of korea?" "H-Here...but I'm f-from Busan. I-It's not my family I-I m-miss though...J-Just this guy..."

"Do you mind me asking who?" "I call him Chan-Sunbaenim...I-I'm overreacting, I-I shouldn't be crying j-just b-because I miss his lives. I-I just f-finished w-watching his birthday live a-and there was no hug..."

The person next to you hums before gently placing his hand on the back of your head and ruffling your hair lightly. "I happen to know Chan." You sniff, wiping your eyes and lifting them from the floor to finally look at the person who's kind enough to listen to you.

You gasp, wiping more of your tears away and trying to look decent when you see just who it is sitting next to you. "H-Han Sunbaenim, I-I'm sorry." You go to stand to bow but he rests a gentle hand on your arm. "Hyung is okay and it's not stupid for missing someone." "I-I've been told it is." "Well whoever told you that must think emotions make you weak. You aren't overreacting, Mn." "Y-You know me?" "Yeah. We all do."

You sniff and Jisung reaches forward to wipe a fallen tear away. "Come on, you want to finally meet Chan-Hyung?" "I-If I won't be a bother..." "Come on." He stands up and reaches out for your hands. You take his hands and he pulls you up, his hand still holding yours as he pulls you out of the practice room. "How old are you, Mn?" You let him guide you as you pick at your sleeve, still holding his hand. "Seventeen." "Ooh, I was seventeen when I debuted." "I know. I know about all of you."

He brings you to a door and he knocks, which you found a bit odd. "Jisung, why are you knocking, pabo- oh." You shrink further behind Jisung's shoulder when the door opens and you're met with Hyunjin. "I'm not a pabo, you're a pabo." Hyunjin gasps and you can't help but let a small smile grace your lips, he really is dramatic in real life. "You can't call me a pabo, pabo."

There's more movement behind the door before Hyunjin is being pulled away. "That's enough, stop being rude to each other." It was Chan and you can't stop the tears brimming your lash line and you lean into Jisung's shoulder. "Hey, Mn, it's okay."

He turns around, letting go of your hand and gently trying to guide your face to look at him. "It's okay, Mn." "Mn?" "Y-Ye-yes?" Your voice is meek as one hand holds Jisung's hand and the other is on the side of your face, your sweater paws covered in tears.

"What wrong?" You shake your head with a sob. "I-It's d-dumb." You hiccup and Chan readjusts his own sleeve to reach over and wipe your tears away. "Is it really dumb or do you think it's dumb?" You shake your head and hide your face.

"He finished watching your birthday live. He thinks it's dumb and he's over reacting because he misses your lives." Chan coos softly that pulls a sob out of you, you haven't heard genuine concern for you in a while. "Aw, Mn, I'm sorry." "I-It's nothing." "No, No, it's okay." You smooths down your hair and slowly brings you closer. "From what I understand, he was upset there was no hug." Jisung says rubbing your back.

"Oh, Mn, come here." He pulls you closer and wraps his arms around your shoulders where your cries are muffled into his hoodie, squeezing you tightly and resting his chin on the top of your head. "I wish I could apologize to other Stays. I'm sorry, Mn, I'm so sorry." You wrap your arms around him, fisting the back of his hoodie and hugging him just as tight. "Thank you, Sunbaenim." "Call us Hyung, okay? You're an honorary Stray Kid, okay?" Your laugh is watery as you sniff and pull back, wiping your tears and looking up slightly to catch Chan's smile.

"Cute..." You mutter softly and your hand covered by your sleeve points at his dimple and Chan laughs, pulling you back in for another hug. "You're cute. Come on, how about you watch us record for a little bit." Your eyes widened as you look from him to Jisung behind you and back to him. "R-Really? I-I don't want to be a bother." "It'll be okay."

He suddenly leans closer and whispers as if he's telling a top secret. "You can try Felix's brownies." He whispers and your eye light up before a voice is heard behind him. "Better hurry! Changbin-Hyung is gonna eat them all!" It was Felix followed by The aforementioned rapper. "I'm not the only one! Minho has been eating them too!"

Chan smiles and opens the door more, laughing at the kids. "Wanna join?" You look in to see Felix holding the brownie box behind him as Changbin attempts to grab more, both missing how Minho just takes one out undetected. Jeongin is next to Hyunjin and Seungmin is on the floor in front of the maknae.

"Yeah, I'd love to."

#random #bleh #stray kids #straykids #stray kids x male reader

[class1akids]

I really hope Shouto is about to have a big part in the last volume as well. I don't see how he couldn't really as there's been plenty of build up to it and I think Horikoshi making Shigaraki and Shouto have similar backgrounds in recent chapters also have to count for something and I very much doubt Horikoshi himself doesn't see the connection there. So I'm hopeful we will get more Shouto and a Origin trio working together soon. Maybe I'm too hopeful.

I'm really hoping that he'll get a good moment in the final defeat of AFO. I saw some people speculating that his moment was last chapter, but I felt that was more for Sero and to tick off the box of the Shoto-Endeavor combo post-apology (but it was a pretty straightforward flashfire fist). The fact that we didn't see Izuku react to it in any way or acknowledge Shoto, affirms to me that this wasn't that kind of moment yet.

I also sincerely hope that Shoto in the corner of the new chapter is not his full participation, especially since

It's such a blink and miss panel, while side characters like Gentle and Death Arms are getting speaking lines with Izuku.

2. Unlike others, we don't see what Shoto is doing, but also, he's the last one shown before the hit, which means physically, he must be pretty close to Izuku.

3. Unlike the others, Shoto also doesn't say "ganbare" - which I don't think he's ever said, but also may mean that he's not "sending" Izuku forward so much, but intends to back him up. We'll see.

4. Shoto in fact did not have a spoken line since his own Rising chapter. I assume he will eventually say something.

4. Bakugou is missing altogether, which to me is a sure sign that this hit won't end the battle. There was also no peep of the villains and Izuku had no thoughts of Tenko - so that still is all in a limbo.

So yeah, I really expect here some more action from him. A more spectacular end move (we haven't really seen him attack the whole endgame, so I'd like to see a Phosphor version of his Flashfreeze Heatwave just like we got a Cluster version of Bakugou's Howitzer Impact), some kind of nod to his history with Izuku (probably the SF fight again, since it appeared in Izuku's memories) and some kind of resolution of the Toya-situation.

#c1a asks #todoroki shouto #bnha manga leaks #bnha manga spoilers

[pretty-little-mind33]

Tangerine x fem!reader

Summary: Your fiancé wants to fuck you raw.

Genre: SMUT (nsfm)

Warnings: swearing, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (reader is on the pill), breeding kink, talk of having a child, possessiveness

~ this was an ask i got today and i just couldn't resist so i wrote a small blurb 😵‍💫 ~

When he first brought up the idea of fucking without a condom it was the night of your engagement. You were having light-hearted banter at dinner until a pleasant silence fell upon the two of you, which was then promptly broken by Tangerine's inquiry.

"Padron?" you ask, almost choking on your champagne.

Tangerine smirks behind his napkin and leans forward over the restaurant table, his warm palm covering your hand. You realize he must have chosen this table in the corner of the patio for this reason.

"I asked if you wanted to try without a condom tonight," he whispers again, his voice husky and your cheeks feel warm. 

"You can't ask me that here!" you exclaim in a murmur, avoiding his gaze. 

Tangerine smirks, clearly not concerned as he looks around the restaurant, "No one's here. It's just us," he says and squeezes your hand. He's right, the only other people on the patio are an elderly couple in the opposite corner.

He tilts his head, "So?"

"You wanna get me pregnant, is that why you asked me to marry you?" you half-joke, looking at your new engagement ring sitting pretty on your finger. 

Tangerine laughs, "Wanna find out?" his smirk widens and he shifts to pull out his wallet, "C'mon," he whispers as he pays and then extends his hand to you.  

It's a miracle you both make it home clothed considering the moment you walk in your shared apartment, you're in his arms. Your back is pressed against the wall, near the shelf where you keep your mail and keys, his lips marking your neck, as your legs hook around his middle. He's kissing you with passion, his body pressed hard against yours. 

"My luv," he mumbles in between his kisses and he's holding his hands under your thighs now as he moves you from the living room and into the bedroom. "Mine," he nips at your ear, his voice low and wanton. 

"Yours," you echo as he places you down on the mattress like you're something so precious and then he's hovering over you, kissing you like it's his last day on earth. You feel all warm and flustered, your smile widening as his lips move against yours.

Tangerine's hand strokes up and down your thigh, sliding under your dress until your dress is bunched up enough so that he can see your panties. 

"Did you think about what I asked?" he whispers in your ear, his hand pausing on your thigh. He won't continue until he has your permission. 

You hook your arms around his neck, pretending to think for a moment, "You wanna fuck me raw, honey?" you ask, knowing those words would turn him on and when you hear the groan he produces, you know your mission was successful. 

"But, you know I'm on the pill, yeah?" you add in a whisper.

Tangerine smirks and kisses you again, his knee parting your thighs a little. "We can fix that later, darlin'."

You feel his hand caress your cheek, his eyes searching yours for permission, "I'm clean," he mumbles and you nod.

"So am I," you say and pull him down using your arms, your hands in his hair.

You kiss him as passionately as he had kissed you, granting him the permission he so badly wanted, and it doesn't take long until you've both shed your clothes and his bare cock stretches the walls of your pussy, dragging out your second orgasm of the evening.

"Bloody fuck," Tangerine groans, one of his arms holding the headboard as he thrusts into you, watching your expressions. It all feels so intense and you're moaning. "Good girl," he says, brown sweaty curls falling over his lidded eyes as he fucks you over and over again. 

You whimper, eyes shut, as his cock feels too good. Why haven't you done this sooner? 

"I wanna fuck a baby into ya, luv," Tangerine groans, unable to control himself, as he clenches his hand on the headboard so hard his knuckles turn white. "Do'ya want that? Wanna carry my child, darlin'?" he moans, leans down, and kisses behind your ear as his hips smack against yours. 

You're a moaning mess, unable to answer him as you nod. 

"I wanna hear ya say it and then I'll give you what ya crave," he orders, his voice strained and stern from his arousal. You can feel every inch of him inside you and it's so overwhelming in the best way. Your mind is hazy and all you can focus on is his cock.  

"I w-wanna carry your baby, please," you moan, arching into him. 

"Shit," Tangerine grunts when he feels you clench around him and your cum drips around his dick. This sends his own orgasm into motion as he spills his release into you, kissing your face as he does so.

He whispers loving praises in your skin as he lazily fucks his cum into you. When he pulls out, there is a dripping mess underneath you and you moan, feeling tingly and exhausted. 

"C'mon, I'll run us a shower and I'll clean ya up," Tangerine murmurs as he strokes his hand up and down your thigh to soothe any soreness you might have. "And then we'll throw away your birth control, hm?" he half-jokes and kisses your stomach. Your hands find his hair and you massage his scalp.

"We'll see, baby," you mumble with a small smile, completely fucked out. 

#tangerine x reader #tangerine blurb #tangerine bullet train #tangerine smut #tangerine angst #tangerine bullet train smut #tangerine x fem!reader #tangerine x y/n #tangerine x you #tangerine bullet train x reader #tangerine fic #tangerine fanfiction #lemon and tangerine #tangerine #tangerine 🍊 #bullet train tangerine #bullet train lemon #bullet train fanfic #bullet train fanfiction #bullet train movie #aaron taylor johnson fic #aaron taylor johnson fanfiction #aaron taylor johnson

[ramen-writes]

Prompt: The villian comes around the corner, sneaking into the hero's house while they're supposed to be celebrating with friends. Only to see the hero slumped against the wall, drunk.

-------------------------

The villian came around the corner. Only to see the hero all alone in her room slumped against the wall with bottles surrounding her.

"Wh- what are you doing?" The villain asks.

"Huh?" The hero raises her head to look at him. "Oh... It's you" she says sadly.

"Yeah it's me so get up and fight me" he says urging her to get up.

"Nahh let's just end it here, I am tired, you win I lose, happy?"

Confusion fills up the villain's face "N-no, not happy. See? I am not happy. What do you mean, what's going on? You always fight for this place and the people of it"

The hero hums "yeah I guess but it's not like I owe it to them" a hunt of resentment seeps through her calm voice.

"Wha- but you grew up here with these people shouldn't you want to protect them?"

"I can say the same about you too. You weren't the only one they treated like an outcast because of what you could do. I was treated the same way but when you decided to show up all powerful and mighty I had them choice to either join you and prove them correct or fight you and prove them wrong. I did what I thought was the right thing..."

The villain gapes and the hero continues "everyone looovves the hero until they get all up and close with them and realize it's not all fun", she goes to grab another bottle but before she can the villain quickly snatches it

"Hey!! I need THAT. How else am I supposed to act like everything is fine if I can't let it out in the solitude of my own home and drink my problems away" the villain sets the bottle aside, not listening.

" This isn't about the town's people is it. Someone close to you? Who? Viviana? Cobey? Never liked them, always thought they were kinda a weird duo to take up as a guard" the villain said clearing some of the tissues and bottles so he could sit.

"No it wasn't them" the hero mumbled out.

"Then who? I really don't think you are close to that many people" the hero hummed softly in agreement.

"W-wait I didn't mean it as an insult I just meant that there aren't many people who you trust... wait that doesn't make it better does it?" The villian winced.

"Well if it isn't them then who-" The villain's eyes widen as the realization sets in. "No..." He whispers and the hero just nods.

"Liam? How? He is the last person I would've guessed to be the reason for all this" he gestured to the bottles and pillows.

"He doesn't know that I am like this. I acted all calm and composed in front of him." She slumps "well I hope I did because otherwise I just seem like a sad lonely idiot"

"B-but that doesn't make any sense... Yo-you guys were in love. He was the only person I couldn't even think of trying to blackmail because he was so loyal to you".

The hero let out a chuckle. "It's not his fault really... Mostly mine for putting the kingdom and the people of it before everything else".

"Of course it's not your fault I just don't understand what happened". The villain says.

"He wanted to settle down, and I couldn't do that, he wanted a family and I couldn't give it to him, he wanted me to not put the city before everything else and I once again couldn't do it." she let out a sob. "I let something that took everything from me destroy the one thing I had left"

"Oh..." Is all the villain could let out. He didn't know how to comfort anyone or if he even should comfort her.

"The worse part is that he was so nice about it too" her voice cracks.

"He said that he couldn't do it, that he couldn't live like this when I put everything else before him. But he also said that it didn't mean that he wasn't going to be there for me. He said he would still be my friend and will always fight beside me" she let out another sob. "H-he wished me luck and said that he hoped that I could learn to put myself before the city... H-he said he would be there for me but that he can't wait forever and this is something I have to learn myself" by now she was full on sobbing.

The villain didn't know what to say or do. "You know...I had a similar experience too" he says. Where did that come from? Stupid.

But now the hero was looking at him with curious eyes. Those eyes wide, and for a moment almost forgetting the tears they had just shed. He sighed, it's not like she was going to remember this anyways and it's better than listening to her sob.

"She was the most talented and beautiful woman I had very seen. She still is..."

He glanced at her only to find her staring up at him urging him to continue. He sighed.

"She was the only on who understood me, she knew what I was going through without me even telling her. She didn't have her life any better than mine but she still went around with a smile on her face that made my day. She was the light at the end of the tunnel, the reason I decided to wake up every morning...and then I ruined it. I became this. Even after everything she did for me I knew I couldn't live like that forever and I didn't want her to have to either... But she didn't agree. She believed there was a better way. But I knew that was just hope and hope is dangerous. So as much I wanted to I couldn't let myself become the hopeful boy I used to be waiting for a day where everything would be fine. So I left..."

He finished and looked at her.

"that's not a good ending" she pouted.

"He let out a sad chuckle "No...it's not, is it? But I guess we can't always have a happily ever after" He glanced at her again.

Her bright eyes, the one that shined so bright everytime she smiled.

"Do you miss her? Do you regret it? does the pain ever stop?" Her voice cracked at the last sentence.

" Yes... I miss her every day" and he did but not because he didn't get to see her but because every time he did she acted as if she didn't know him, as if everything they went through didn't matter like becoming...this, erased everything else.

"And I do question if she was right. That if I hadn't become the villain everything would have been fine but I also know that that's just wishful thinking..." He sighed.

"The pain doesn't go away...well at least for me it didn't but it gets better over time. Surround yourself with the people who love you most and soon you'll understand that that's just how somethings happen. Unlike me you didn't lose someone, maybe as a lover sure but from what you told me it seems as if you aren't losing him as a friends or someone you care about and who cares about you." He says.

"What about you? Did you lose her?" She asked, her voice slightly more sober now.

"I like to think not forever" he said as a sad smile made its way onto his face.

That was one thing he let himself hope for, the only time he let himself be a little boy again and believe that one-day everything would be okay.

The villain let out a breath getting up.

"Let's get you cleaned up first alright?" The hero nodded as the villain helped them stand up.

The moment she was on her feet she stumbles forward. The villain caught her before she could fall. "Sorry... It's hard to walk after you just drowned yourself in..."

She squinted her eyes and looked towards the bottles "whatever that is. What is that anyways?" She asked.

The villain confused looked at the bottles and his eyes widened. "What the- you were drinking straight up hard liquor, no wonder you're like this. Come on I'll carry you"

#villian #tumblr writers #tumblr writing community #writers #writing #writing inspiration #writing prompts #writers on tumblr #writing prompt #writeblr #ao3 writer #villian x hero #hero x villain #hero x supervillain #hero #superhero x villain

[rotten7rat]

Jason Todd Playlist Analysis

PART 9

Scotland by McCafferty

This one is mostly the vibe of the music itself, more than the lyrics themselves. The lyrics still fit, but they’re a bit vague. The song sounds angry, but more importantly hurt, which is the root of Jason’s problems. The song is about desperation and wishing for escape and salvation, which I think captures a part of Jason pretty well.  It’s a cry for help.

King of Scotland, save me

Crucify my cravings

Underneath the castle grounds

I will run until I'm found

Jason’s constant back and forth of pushing people away and reaching out, always wanting people to be in his corner and on his side. He wants to be alone but he’s so lonely he just wants someone to reach out and mean it. He’s calculated at his best and reckless at his worst. Because he’s always seen as reckless and angry nobody notices when he desperately needs help.

She said, "It always rains in England here"

I'm not afraid of dying, dear

Run with the wolves, but disappear

Always around, until you appear

It’s always miserable I Gotham, the weather, the atmosphere, but its home. He’s dying, he’s disappearing into his work and his façade. He can’t let the act drop lest he become vulnerable to his family.

Fuck, such a bitch, fell asleep with a nightlight

Always around, just always your pet dog

He’s afraid, and he keeps this wall of anger and indifference up to protect himself, which leaves him alone in the end. The second line could refer to his feelings on the tenuous trust Bruce and the rest of the family has in him, he can be around but he must submit like an aggressive dog.

What kinda God lets children die?

They probably went in her room

They probably thought she's asleep

What kinda God lets children die?

They probably thought that she stayed the same

But she's not the same, no, no, not the same girl

Bodies will wonder, and eyes will ponder

I need to know, will I make it?

Reference to his death, blaming God or maybe Bruce even. He feels like the need to assert that he is different now, to when he was a kid, but he does this in a way that dismisses the notion that Bruce and Dick miss him and care for him. He is the same person, he’s just different now, he’s not a child anymore of course he’s different, but he sees it less as a result of growing up and more as a result of his trauma. Bruce and Dick don’t expect him to be exactly the same, nobody is, but Jason thinks that that’s who they want back, not him now.

He said, "grow up, grow up, grow up, grow up" yeah, yeah

"Grow up, grow up, grow up, grow up" yeah, yeah

He did grow up, he grew up alone. He’s only young and yet he feels so old. But this isn’t seen or acknowledged because of the way that he acts, his lashing out, his taunting and jabs, he’s more often likened to a nasty child. His outside doesn’t match his inside. He’s told to grow up, even though he feels twice his age, and yet he also feels like an emancipated child because he had such a vital figure missing for the last years of his childhood.

And I will stay away

And I will stay

He feels like he’s destined to remain the outsider of the family. He oscillates between blaming them and blaming himself, but ultimately deciding that it would be in everyone’s best interest if he stayed away, but he also cannot remove himself completely. So he’s stuck at this in-between with the family where he feels too unwelcome to be fully involved but too weak to cut ties.

#jason todd #red hood #batfamily #dc comics #dc universe #jason todd playlist #Spotify

[offt0wonderland]

The Runaways

Imagine: You're a Soc, enjoying a movie at the drive-in with your friend, when the same Greasers you ran into earlier barge inside the automobile.

The Outsiders x fem OC

Word count: 2.5k

Summary: A young Soc finds herself thrown into a loop once she befriends Pony and his family.

“What did I miss in History?”

Deborah strengthened her fingers around the condensing cup, the two of us pressed closely together while the temperature gradually dropped outside the passion pit. “A load of Crock – I don’t think Mr. Jones knows what he’s talking about,” The corners of her mouth pursed, a bland giveaway that she was transported back in thought from my missed lecture. “I remember he said something about the Battle of Midway and how we were lucky to have won … but when I talked to my dad, he said that the reason we defeated the other ships was because of willpower and strength.”

“Wait, so how does that make Mr. Jones the one full of Crock?” I shifted my head closer to my friend, allowing the temple of my forehead to press against the bone of her shoulder.

Deborah soon readjusted to my movements; her head now stuck against the headrest of the driver seat to keep her eyes on the motion picture that began to play in front of our eyes. “I’m trusting my dad – who fought in the war – as opposed to the teacher who didn’t.”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” The both of us briskly fell quiet after my agreement, letting the noise from Sound of Music fill the silence that lingered between us. It was a movie we’d both seen a few weeks prior, but we didn’t mind the repetition, the drive-in was something we both seemed to enjoy on our off time.

Honestly, I don’t think we’d ever get old of this place.

Well, except for the backseat bingo. Now that was revolting. It was like every automobile around us showcased couples engulfed by each other’s mouths, the film of their windows fogged up to display the sweat that radiated off their movements. I tried my best to ignore them, combine Razzles and Popcorn into my mouth as I observed Julie Andrews on screen, but the hathos was too compelling: they were sickeningly captivating.

It was like every time my irises fell onto the giant screen in front, they somehow found their way to the car next to me. In the span of three minutes, I found myself watching the older couple in nothing but a button-down and a bra. From the looks of it, they seemed to be in their mid-twenties, but by their hormones, they appeared closer to teenagers. Frankly, I wouldn’t have been surprised if one of them ripped the other’s skin off with how aggressive they tugged on each other’s bodies.

It was nauseating – or more accurately, it reminded me of Charles and his consistently grabby hands. One of the many reasons we broke our steady off.

I continued to observe the people around us, noting every time they disappeared in the cushions of their seats; But for some reason, the one thing that redirected my attention was three boys coming into view. The middle Greaser had the same leather jacket I saw before, his arms wrapped around both of his friends as if he was ready to guide them to mischief. The other two seemed to follow that minuscule action, willing to put themselves in trouble to keep their delinquent acquaintance.

“Get out of the way!” And it appeared that disturbance wasn’t too far behind.

Dally pressed the end of the cancer stick between his teeth; the outline of his middle finger raised in front of the illuminated backdrop. Pony chuckled at his friend’s insult, making eye contact with the battered boy across from him in glee. And in all honesty, I probably would’ve laughed too, only all that commotion made them closer to our car. My eyes widened at that revelation, my body involuntarily shifting downwards in hopes they wouldn’t notice. But with all the other windows coated with steam, we were bound to be noticed.

Dally was the first of the group to make a reaction; his lips tugged into a smirk, the pads of his fingertips yanking the poor boys behind him in the new direction he was set in. It was the response I feared the most – he was coming over. So, I made a countermove; I bent over the edge of my seat, tugging on the locks of the automobile to create a barrier.

“Val, what are you doing?” Deborah questioned.

“Lock the doors on your side.” I said.

“What?”

“Lock the doors on your side!” But before she even had a chance, the three Greasers had found themselves inside the same confinement we were in. And I was pissed.

“Ohh, this is nice,” Dally straightened his legs, leaning his body back against the cushion of the seats as if he was already welcomed into the Socs car. “Didn’t know girls could own such nice autos.”

I turned around to face the lot of them. “What are y’all doin’?”

“Needed a place to sit, the chairs outside are somehow all taken.” Ugh, his arrogance was worse than the couple making out next to us.

“Get out of my car,” Deborah was firm. “I don’t want any grease on these girly leather seats.”

“Dal’ let’s just go.” The anxious boy who was drowned in denim finally spoke up, pulling on his friend’s arm to get him to budge – but it appeared he wasn’t going to oblige to his buddy like last time.

“Dally, I swear, I’ll grab …” The slur of words were quick to come to a halt once my eyes fell upon the boy on the right. It was like I was staring at him for the first time, witnessing the fresh scar that aligned symmetrically on his cheek and temple. And by the rounds of his black irises, I could tell he feared my statement … he feared a Soc. “Just get lost.”

Dally, of course, ignored my blatant pleas and focused on the bag of candies that glowed against the console. “Razzles, my favorite.” The Greaser reached forward, stuffing his dirty hands into the freshly opened bag of Blaze’n Blueberry.

Yup, not touching those anymore.

“Val, you know these guys?” Deborah was mortified that I even knew a name out of the bunch.

I shook my head. “Just Pony, he’s in my English class.”

Now that statement earned a gasp. My friend spun around; her eyes glazed over as she peered at the young Greaser on the left side of her automobile. “You’re in Mr. Syme’s class too?! I love that guy – like in love with that guy … Does he ever mention me? Val here won’t tell me a thing.”

“That’s because you’re going steady with Gerald.”

She waved that comment off, a sense of betrayal looming off of her – which, if I had to guess, was probably due to Gerald’s constant gawking at Cherry Valence. Pony uncomfortably shifted against the leather; unsure what words were the right ones in this situation. “Uh, I don’t think so, but maybe once.”

Deborah couldn’t help but let out a squeal from Pony’s response, the back of her hand now sharply pressed to her forehead as if she was going to faint. Dally grinned at the dramatics, finding humor in the odd conversation that was stricken up. “Y’know what, I’ll make a deal,” I swiveled my head in her direction, widening my eyes in horror. She wouldn’t dare. “If you press Mr. Syme about me, y’all can stay … but only if y’all don’t go ape.”

And she did.

Two of them nodded in unison, shuffling their weight to get comfortable in the small car they deemed necessary to infiltrate. I rolled my eyes at her ultimatum, appalled that she’d be so willing to let a group of Greasers stay in the backseat of her Mustang: But it wasn’t my auto, meaning I had no say. The five of us quickly went back to quietude, watching the flick in front of us; at least until the smell of smoke permeated the air. “Look, if y’all are going to stay, no smoking.”  

“You don’t like smoke?” Dally smirked at my statement, almost as if he had found his new weapon of choice.

“I don’t – so quit it.”

Dally grunted, leaning forward to release a cloud of smoke near my jawline. I immediately balled up my fist, ready to thrust all my power into the crook of his nose, except I held back. All I did was wave away the pollution, turning my head slightly until my skin hovered near the tip of the cigarette. “You stay, our rules.”

“I’m sick of rules,” I dragged my tongue across my lower lip, fighting every urge in me to jump the boy in the backseat. “It seems as though you are too, though.”

“What does that mean?” I spat.

“You went to the wrong side of town, and not many Socs are caught dead on our street.” Deborah gasped at Dally’s retaliation, her head snapping in my direction.

“That’s why you cut class? You were at the Grease Lot?” Her voice was raised, almost loud enough for the rest of the parked cars to hear.

I shot her a look. “If you’re going to act this way – dense – then get out of the car.”

“I’m liking this anger, maybe we can ball like the two over there.” Dally nodded over at the couple who had found themselves fully naked, the movements of their car forming a grotesque image in my brain.

“Oh bug out.”

Dally was about to retort something back, but the boy in denim put his arm out to silence him. “Dal’ leave it be.” His voice wavered slightly, like he wasn’t used to standing up to the man in the middle.

Yet, the coldness of his eyes never disappeared.

I turned my body, peering over at the tan boy who stared back. “Y’know, I like you. What’s your name?”

“Johnny Cade.”

Read the first two chapters here: The Runaways | Quotev

#cherry valance #dallas winston #dally winston #darry curtis #johnny cade #fanfic #matt dillon #ponyboy curtis #ralph macchio #steve randle #imagine #x reader #fluff #two bit mathews #the outsiders #two bit x reader #two bit matthews x reader #johnny cade x reader #dallas winston x reader #drive in #retro #vintage #1960s #the outsiders sodapop #sodapop curtis #sodapop x reader #emilio estevez

[thwispsings]

the idea came to me in a migraine induced dream but now im obsessed with the concept of a mu qingfang who knew the abuse bunhe was going through at the hands of og!shen qingqiu/shen jiu and did his best to treat the kid whenever he could (and bring his concerns to zhangmen shixiong, which were obviously very much ignored) and his constant worry over the situation means that when the qi deviation happens he is suspicious of shen qingqiu’s changes for all different reasons and very much protective of luo binghe -who is a sweet child and an earnest disciple who seems to always find the most incredible medicinal herbs to bring to his mu shishu as thanks for the care bestowed upon him- which means that when the whole shen qingqiu dying thing happens instead of bad mouthing luo binghe or fighting him at every chance he does his best to come over and keep an eye on things to try and help him and make sure luo binghe won’t kill himself trying to bring shen qingqiu back because he remembers that earnest kid and he’s witnessed luo binghe’s devotion to this shen qingqiu first hand and knows there is no way that the kid who cried when ning yingying found a bird with a broken wing and begged mu qingfang to fix it and the kid that would always borrow medical texts and try to find new herb combinations as if it was a game between him and qian cao disciples is actually doing anything nefarious to shen qingqiu’s corpse.

anyways in this essay i will-

#listen #binghe needs to have more people in his corner #and for some reason i have imprinted on mqf #so you get cool healer uncle #who probably smoked weed with binghe and made him promise to keep quiet #lbh and mqf bonding activity was teaching lbh to properly roll joints #anyways mqf understanding that the rituals are intricate and lqg doesn’t have any other way of coping with his grief #but the first time lqg injures lbh almost to death in a fight they get into a screaming match so violent #that no bai zhan discipline will look at him in the face without going pale for the next month #that is his nephew! who found several thought-to-be-extinct herbs for him! #also him telling sqq that lbh might have forgotten what he did but mqf certainly didn’t #a healer never forgets the wounds they heal #and sqq is just like yeah brother me neither :( #mqf is going to therapy these idiots so fucking hard #lbh also keeps trying to matchmake him with some nice demons in his court like shamelessly trying to poach his mu shishu #also he and shang qinghua are the only ones who still get the full shishu treatment #except lbh kinda bullies sqh a little for the virtue of the whole mbj situation #(hes never gonna let them live that down) #anyways it’s whatever at first but at one poont years in the future it does become a point of contempt with the other peak lords #nothing can take away from me that when bored they will squabble like children #such is the way of bored adults #i have rambled enough so normal tags now #svsss #svsss writing #luo binghe #shen qingqiu #mu qingfang #bingqiu #svsss au