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brairslair · 6 months

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FEEL BETTER? ˗ˏˋ P.B.P ´ˎ˗

“all you have to do is ask”

confident!peter parker x shy!gf!reader

WORD COUNT: 3.0k

REQUESTED: no requests are open! fandoms: marvel, stranger things, harry potter (any era), scream

WARNINGS: fem reader, shit writing, established relationship, peter and reader are implied to be in college/uni, SMUT (18+), very little plot tbh, heavy praise kink, softdom!peter vibes, fingering (f!rec), very light nipple play, SUPER slight dacryphilia if u squint, peter is talkative, not proofread and written instead of sleeping, lmk if i missed smth!

A/N: is it 8am? yeah. did i just spend the last two hours writing this mess? also yeah. enjoy!

ALL CHARACTERS IN THIS STORY ARE 18+ remember to like, comment, and reblog to support my writing!

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Six hours. That’s how long it’s been since you showed up at Peter’s front door. Six hours spent right next to him, talking to him, touching him, and yet you still find yourself longing for more. Even now as you sit between his legs, back to his chest, his hands kindly twisting at your hair, your thoughts have you squirming in your seat.

The two of you had set up this study date a few days back, anticipating the opportunity to spend time together (without sacrificing your grades). Unfortunately, you were having a hard time focusing on schoolwork.

No matter how much you tried to focus on your paper, you couldn’t stop your mind, and your eyes, from wandering. You caught yourself staring at how pretty his hands looked as he hurriedly wrote down equations, admiring how cute he looked sitting crisscross in his plaid pajama pants and science pun t-shirt, how his voice sounded just slightly deeper when he was concentrating, or how soft his lips look right now. You actually thought you were going to lose it when the praise “Good job, babe. This looks perfect!” fell casually from his lips while reading your completed assignment, sealing it with a kiss to your temple.

You felt like you were going insane, but the thing is, so was Peter. You hadn’t seen each other for nearly three weeks prior to this study date, outside of passing in the halls or a quick call before bed. Between you trying to prepare for a major presentation coming up and Peter’s multitude of responsibilities, neither of you had much energy, let alone time, left to spend on anything else.

Of course, you love everything about Peter, unconditionally. That includes his web-slinging alter ego. However, it can get a little frustrating having to go weeks on end without being able to hold a conversation with him. Especially when all people talk about is the amazing spider-man, listening to girls fawn over your boyfriend for hours a day, and feeling just as fangirl-ish. You found yourself daydreaming about him to pass the time, acting like a schoolgirl with a hopeless crush.

Seeing him again after so long with so little contact is like a wake up call for your senses. You'd been so buried in your studies that you didn’t even realize just how much you missed him until you knocked on his front door.

- “Are you okay?”

Your thoughts dissolve as Peter draws your attention back to the present. When you snap back to reality, you’re immediately reminded of what caused the spiral of daydreams to begin with. You can feel the warmth of his body behind yours, the contour of his toned chest pressing against your back. You feel your whole body heat up.

“Mhm, I’m great!” you squeak out, internally wincing at the shakiness in your voice. Your usually bright and vibrant tone is completely gone, replaced with something resembling more of a whisper than anything else.

Safe to say, Peter isn’t buying it.

His best guess is that you’re upset about something that happened today. Maybe stressed about the presentation you have coming up. He knows it sometimes takes you a while to open up, so for now, he decides to let it go. In an attempt to settle your mind, he slides a hand down your arm to lace his fingers through yours.

Unfortunately, it does the exact opposite. The innocent action leaves a trail of goosebumps behind and makes your breathing pattern pick up ever so slightly. You can only hope that Peter doesn't notice.

He does.

“Are you cold?”

You shake your head, taking deep breaths to steady yourself. “No, I’m alright.” Loosely translated, means I actually feel like I’m burning from the inside out.

“Do you not like the movie? We can change it if you want to watch something else.” he offers sweetly, leaning forward to rest his chin on your shoulder. “You’ve been all spacey for the past half an hour.”

Your breath hitches, feeling like you’ve been caught red handed. Of course he would notice. He may be a little oblivious sometimes, but when it comes down to it, Peter knows you better than you know yourself.

“The movie’s fine.” You struggle a bit to formulate a response, feeling your whole body heat up like a furnace. To evade the silence, you stutter out a weak, “I was just… thinking?”

You immediately want to light yourself on fire, deciding the silence would have been better.

“Thinking about what?” he asks. Not prying, just curious. “Must be something pretty important. Your heart is beating a mile a minute.” He softly laughs at his own words, causing you to shrink into yourself. He’s not laughing at you, but it definitely feels that way.

You fidget with Peter’s fingers in your palm, eyes locking on the movie as nerves wrack through your body. “It’s nothing.” You speak so quietly, he’s thankful for his enhanced hearing.

“Doesn’t seem like nothing.” you can practically hear the concerned furrow in his brow as he brings your still interlaced hands to his lips, leaving feather-light kisses to each knuckle. “You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

His patient and caring nature never fails to make you fall more and more in love with him, if that’s even possible.

Then, as if you weren’t enough of a mess, what really does it is when Peter leaves the faintest kiss to the base of your neck. A gesture meant to signal patience and understanding towards your “anxiety” only causes your thighs to squeeze together against your will, and before you can think enough to stop it, an airy, barely audible whine escapes the back of your throat, so soft it could pass as a sigh to the average ear.

Nothing about Peter is average.

He stills against your skin, causing your eyes snap open in horror as the realization hits you. Manicured hands immediately cover your face to shield you from the embarrassment.

They don’t stay long as Peter wastes no time in reaching up to gently pry your hands away. You feel like you could burst into tears at any moment from the sheer shame and frustration.

“Hey, hey-”, he holds both hands gently, rubbing sweet circles to soothe you, “No need to be embarrassed. You can talk to me.”

You don’t move your gaze from your lap.

“Come on, beautiful. Look at me.” He asks so gently that you comply before you can even think otherwise. His eyes are soft and kind, looking at you with all the love in the world. He makes you feel safe.

“Is that what you’ve been thinking about? Hm?”

You blink up at him owlishly, feeling like there would be a question mark floating over your head if you looked up.

“That’s why you were all spacey? You were thinking about me…” he leans his head down, lips grazing your collarbone, “kissing you?”

Your breath catches.

"Or, maybe..." your eyes are glued as he moves his hand from your hold, delicately trailing it down your stomach, past your hip, and slowly down to the inside of your thigh. So close to where you’ve needed him for the past three weeks. “-you were thinking about me touching you?”

Your heart rate picks up by a tenfold, and Peter can hear it hammering in your chest.

Waiting for a response, he’s met with nothing but your heavy breathing. He carefully digs his fingertips into the doughy flesh of your thigh. “Is that what you want? Do you want me to touch you?”

Another airy whimper tumbles from your lips, reluctantly nodding in response to his questions, needing him too badly to care about the shame you feel at your neediness.

Peter smiles, rewarding your response by trailing his sweet kisses up your neck, taking his time to feel you shiver under his touch. His warm lips finally reach the shell of your ear.

“All you have to do is ask.”

He resumes his attack on your neck, now bolder in his movements as he licks and bites and sucks at your skin, trying to find the spot that makes your eyes flutter shut.

Caught up in the feeling of his warm mouth against your skin, you don’t even notice as he hooks your ankles over his, slowly spreading your legs wider and wider, until your skirt rides up your legs.

Peter smiles against your skin when a shaky sigh reaches his ears, your hips bucking up in sync. He’s found it. Peter focuses all of his attention on that spot, nipping and sucking at it until you’re sure he’s going to leave a mark. The hand on your thigh squeezes gently every time you move your hips, and you have to chew on your lip to stop the mortifyingly desperate sounds from spilling out.

“Is this what you had in mind, baby?” the words rumble against your skin, sending a chill down your spine, “Is this what you needed?”

Your hips buck again at that, pouting with the hope that he takes the hint. You feel your body melt into him when his tongue darts out to soothe the fresh mark he’s left on your neck.

Of course, he does get the hint, but there’s no way he’s letting you off the hook that easily.

He inches his hand higher and higher up your thigh, slipping underneath the pretty little skirt he had bought for you as a gift a few months ago. You tense in anticipation.

“What is it?” amusement evident in his tone as he asks you. He loves that he gets to be the one that makes you this needy. “Come on, baby. Tell me.”

You almost sob in frustration, not wanting to say it out loud, but the ache between your legs is becoming unbearable.

His hand barely brushes against your panties, making your chest tighten as you suppress the urge to grind into it.

“Tell me what you need me to do.”

You can’t handle it any longer.

“Please!” You all-but shout, free hand grabbing at his arm, “Please touch me, Pete!” You cry out, already sounding wrecked and he hadn’t even really done anything yet.

Peter beams at how vocal he had gotten you, leaning his head further down to meet your lips for the first time since you got here all those hours ago. It felt like drinking water after being stranded in a desert for days. You missed the way his lips felt. The way they tasted. You crave more.

Then, he mutters two words against your lips that manage to make your hazy brain short circuit.

“Good girl.”

Your groans are pathetic, being swallowed by Peter’s tongue as he rocks his palm against you through your pretty pink panties.

He can’t help but laugh a little, giddy at the sounds spilling out of you at even the lightest touch of his hand.

“Is that better?” he asks, breaking away for air. “This what you've been daydreamin' about?” He already knows what you really want, he always does, but he wants to hear you say it one more time. Just one more confirmation and he’ll give you anything you need.

Now that your mind is so clouded with pleasure, you don’t give it a second thought. “More-” you can’t barely get out a sentence between mewls, “Please, Peter, I need more-”

Before you can say another word, he’s pushing your underwear aside. Your head falls limp against Peter’s shoulder as he gathers your slick, dragging it up to finally circle your puffy clit.

Without his mouth to drown them out, your moans flow freely from you, drowning out the long-forgotten movie playing in the distance. Peter goes back to kissing your neck, deciding to mark every area of your skin that he can reach.

“I’m sorry, baby.” he soothes, nipping at the skin right under your jaw, his own heartbeat jumping at every noise he pulls from you, “Bet you’ve been achey all day, huh?”

You nod your head, barely registering his words as pleasure rolls through your body.

He lets out an almost mocking “Aww, honey…” as you buck your hips against his fingers, “Been so patient for me, huh? Waiting all day for me to make you feel good?”

“Mhm” mixed with your pants, words tumble from your mouth without a single thought to how eager you sound, “Feels so- ohhh… sososo good-”

All you can think about is the way Peters rough fingertips feel absolutely euphoric as he swirls and flicks at your clit, and how his lips sear every inch of your skin, and how his scent and his warmth consumes and takes over every thought floating around in your blissed-out head.

“You sound so pretty-” he peppers hot kisses across your shoulder, “Making so many pretty sounds…”

Peter bends his legs a little, which in turn, bends yours. The move spreads you out just a little bit more, but its enough to send little shockwaves of pleasure through you, making you jolt and gasp at the feeling.

Peter loves the way you look when you get like this. Skin sticky with heat, eyes screwed shut, mouth hanging open in bliss. He thinks you looks like a goddess.

Your moans start to sound more and more like a plea, hips grinding against Peter’s fingers subconsciously as you feel the heat slowly taking over. You need more.

“Peter, pleaseee-“

“Shh, It’s okay.” his fingers glide down to your entrance, coating themselves with slick, “I’ve got you, pretty girl.”

Your eyes practically roll into your skull as he slips two fingers inside of you with ease. The stretch feels incredible, and you can’t help but squeeze the hand that's still holding yours, letting out a sigh of relief.

“Oh my god-“

Peter kisses back up until he reaches your lips again, grinning as you can barely reciprocate. The gentle nature of his kiss makes your head spin and your core clench around his fingers.

“Doing so good for me, sweetheart.”

You feel your lashes begin to collect tears at the overwhelming feeling pulsing through you. This has been building up for weeks.

“Always so good for me.”

Achey little noises spill from your lips onto Peter’s, breathing labored and heaving as the only thought filling your head is Peter Peter Peter.

Then suddenly your mind goes completely blank, gasping back a choked moan as your body goes limp, jaw slacking against Peter’s deep kisses. Your whole body feels like it's buzzing with electricity, and your head feels static in the most amazing way.

Peter pulls back for a moment to watch your face scrunch up in ecstasy, as he rubs against your spot over and over and over again. “There she is.” he coos, admittedly a little proud of himself, and you’re too fucked out to pick up on the mocking tone. He watches in awe as you start to fall apart.

“Takin’ my fingers so well, baby.”

You start to clench tighter around him, using your free hand to grip his wrist like a vice. Peter goes back to kissing your open mouth, sucking and nipping at your bottom lip as you pulse and twitch under his touch.

Panting turns back into whimpers which turns into tears as Peter massages your walls just right, hitting all the right places and stretching you out sooo perfectly.

You can feel pressure building up rapidly in your stomach, back arching up as your body starts to shake from the intensity. Peter shifts so he can watch the way your hips chase his fingers and your chest heaves for air.

“You’re so close, sweetheart. You can do it.” he praises, coaxing you closer and closer to the edge, “Almost there-“

The knot keeps winding tighter and tighter, and whiny begs and pleads start to pour out of you. Lots of “Oh my god, Pete“ or “Please” and “So good-“

Hand over yours, Peter glides your intertwined hands up your body and over your arched ribcage. He slides your hands under your his t-shirt, using his thumb to push your smaller one back and forth over your peak, a long chant of mumbled Peter’s tumble from your kiss-bitten lips.

“I know, baby, I know.” he consoles you, copying the pouty tone of your voice, “Just feels too good, huh?”

You nod your head frantically, still not catching onto the the tease, only caring about chasing your release.

He presses his lips to your ear, “Waited so long for this, honey. You deserve to feel good.”

He pumps his fingers a little bit faster.

“Gonna make you feel so good-“

You start to grind your hips up again, gasping when his palm rubs against your clit with each thrust.

“Pete-” the knot is getting tighter, “Oh my god, Peter- I’m…“ and tighter, “I’m gonna-”

“Let go for me, babe.”

Thats all you needed for your vision to go white hot, mouth falling open with a silent scream as stars dance behind your eyelids.

“There ya go”

“Just like that, pretty girl”

“Let it all out, baby”

He peppers kisses on your burning skin and slows his movements as he works you through your high. As you come down from it, your body goes limp on top of him, a lazy smile stretching on your lips. Peter can’t help but smile too, chest swelling in satisfaction that he was the one who put that smile on your face.

You wince a little as he slowly pulls his fingers from your core, eyes following as he brings them up to his lips to clean them off.

“Feel better?” this time you can definitely hear the cockiness in his tone, smacking him weakly on the arm. “Shut up.”

You turn around just enough to kiss him. This time, it’s slow, and careful, and loving, and you have to pull away and bury your face in his chest to hide the lovesick look in your eyes. Both of you burst out giggling, and Peter can't stop himself from wrapping his arms around your waist to keep you as close as possible. He’s missed you more than you could possibly ever know.

As relaxation coats you like a warm, fuzzy blanket, you shift your weight to get comfortable.

“Ah, don’t-“

Peter squeezes his eyes shut, hissing at the sudden pressure and gripping your hips to keep you still. “Can't do that...”

Now it’s his turn to get flustered.

His face goes beet red as you jump up in confusion. When you look down, you notice a painful looking bulge in his jeans. Your stomach twists with the knowledge that you did that to him.

You weren’t the only one who’s been touch deprived.

“Oh! Sorry…” you giggle a little at the accidental stimulation, looking back up at Peter with a playful smile of your own. “Your turn!”

______________________________________________________________

part 2??

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bearlyfunctioning · 1 year

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Don’t panic ‘The Bear Minimum’ will still show up every now and again, just a lot less than it used to. This is a continuation of my thoughts on the comic I posted here last. I’m just not enjoying making art anymore, like -not at all- & it’s really getting me down. Art is an intrinsic part of my identity, so not wanting to do it feels awful. This reticence has been building for at least 4 years now & as of last year I have been acting on my desire to leave art as a career, before I burn out to a crisp. Please note this is the first time in a long time I am feeling mentally healthy & have the resources to go without my portion of our income for some time (while I try to get IRL work). So, I really need to seize this moment of security to make big life changes. Even if it means we’re going to have to tighten our budget a lot while I try to find work. Some of you may remember that I am attending school full-time for an assistant administration diploma, ideally to have a broad skillset to bring with me while job hunting. I’ll be graduating from that course at the end of May if everything goes as planned. I have been on a commission hiatus since the start of this year to put schooling in action, continuing only with the weekly comic & monthly Patreon exclusive work. This brought my monthly income down to 1/3rdof what it usually is, but that was all I could manage alongside fulltime school. Doing so much less drawing has been incredibly beneficial to my RSI hand pain! For the first time in years, I can go to sleep without restrictive arm braces & I don’t need maintenance from the physiotherapist. I honestly thought that was permanent so I can’t even convey my relief there! However, despite drawing a lot less, my love for making art did not return. I enjoy making comics, but they are a whole lotta line-art & that can be a very repetitive process. Being a comic artist has been extremely good for my growth online; to the point where I owe half or more of my current following to it. Some people don’t even know I draw other things, that’s how good their reach is compared to my other art. Despite that I am going to be taking the comic off schedule. Even if it means sacrificing most or all my Patreon income and kneecapping my reach on every platform. I’ve been making the comic 4 times a month, with little break for 6 years. It started as a good outlet for my thoughts & an exercise in consistency, as I had never had a schedule of any sort prior. Doing the comic weekly was a great lesson in self motivation, but no one is forcing me to continue with it other than me. Plenty of times the deadline came I didn’t have a good idea & just made something I wasn’t proud of, because it was income and because I had just done it every week for so long. If you don’t enjoy my non bear/comic art, then I suppose we’ll part ways. In the end I must do right by me though & I feel like this is the best choice right now. Patrons have been notified on what will be happening over there in their own post.

#notacomic #announcement #The Bear Minimum #artist problems

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toffeechad · 4 months

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✰ BATTLE IN LOBOTOMY CORPORATION: THE TRUMPET OF TWO AU INFO ✰

⚠ TRIGGER WARNING: MENTIONS OF DEATH, ALIVEN'T AND ALSO N00SE RELATED IMAGERY INCLUDED. PROCEED AT YOUR OWN RISK. ⚠

Do you want to proceed? (Click the read more block if yes, don't click the read more block if no.)

MAIN INFO

This AU has some parts of LobCorp & BFDI jumbled up together. The Agents get to take part in challenges. If their teams fail, one of the losing team's members get sacrificed to the Unnamed Fetus. You may be wondering, what would the abnormalities look like? Good question. For the abnormalities that have human-like bodies such as The Queen Of Hatred & Laetitia, they'd probably be based off the object that'll fit their design. For the abnormalities related to other categories such as Punishing Bird or CENSORED, they'll remain with the same design.

AGENT & SEPHIRAH INFO + DESIGNS (TW: N00SE INCLUSION ON FLOWER'S DESIGN)

Specifically by pattern, not only the line patterns on the robot are the same as the other, but also the colors are the same as the main color of that character's asset as well.

The sacrifice order of the AU is related to the BFB (presplit & postsplit) elimination order along with the TPOT elimination order.

These drawings were done way before tpot 9 truly came out, don't expect me to update their designs however!

OTHER INFO

SEFIROT BIOS

Loser: He was once a celebrity who was adored by his fans a lot, especially for Cake. He tried his best to aim for the perfect results and never gave up... but what he was trying his best to aim for became a personal obsession of his... it led him to a trap.

Black Hole: He's very strict when it comes to analyzing Abnormalities in the facility. But whenever he sees an employee from another team or his team die by being sacrificed, he gets extremely anxious. He has Thanatophobia.

Book: She's a dictionary trying her best to help out everyone with their problems so that she'd be appreciated. She has a habit of questioning her own sanity. Ever since Taco has been sacrificed, she's willing to befriend Bomby and Nickel during her breaktime in the facility.

Golf Ball: She's a scientist and mechanic who was formerly a responsible leader... but after suppressing the first 38 sacrificed victims together with the other employees, she tried apologizing to Puffball and Fries (with lowered cogito filters)... Yet she wasn't forgiven yet. They just stared at her angrily as if they're both in the brink of mutiny. Therefore, she then feels helpless whenever a trusted teammate of her dies.

Pencil & Match: Pencil's immature, whereas Match is positive at first. Both of them seem to only trust anyone that's affiliated with their alliance or their team.

Leafy: She was once a happy-go-lucky team member... until she was sacrificed. She just wanted to suppress abnormalities for the sake of helping out the facility. Although.... she's taking her duty too far.

Coiny: He's Pin's really sleep-deprived and mature best friend. While drinking his coffee, he mostly pretends to care for the other employees. While he was in his meltdown state, he struggles to control his own mind as if he had a mental breakdown.

Basketball: She's been through numerous agonizing moments ranging from 8-Ball's sacrifice to Robot Flower's memory loss. Someday, she'll find a way to get her back.... She deeply cares for Grassy's safety as well. She's in charge of handling physical materials for the facility. After the aforementioned events, she yearned for Bell to die soon as she'd enjoy seeing her suffer.

Clock: He's calm and collected. He doesn't really think there's a point to bond with Winner anymore. He's now in charge of recording everything that happens in the facility, especially for sacrifices. He has knowledge about time and cycles.

i suck at writing anyways, thank you for coming to my ted talk

#bfdi #tpot #bfb #the power of two #battle for dream island #battle for bfdi #battle for bfb #bfb au #tpot au #bfdi au #lobotomy corp #lobotomy corporation #lobcorp #project moon #lc

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4izawas · 8 months

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How about a Shou-nya fic, where the reader is having a movie night with izuku and eri, and shouta comes back from the grocery store(he went to buy the apple cookies/candies that eri loves) with another hybrid under his arms, and is like, "meet my son, Hitoshi-" ✨️[ while reading the last one, I thought Eri's brother would be Shinso, was quite surprised to find Izuku as the brother instead. I love izuku but, I need my purple head son in the scene.😭]

sorry this took ages, been working on kinktober chcbrjcj but i wrote it all at once so have at it <3

“do you think unicorns exist in other worlds, maybe?” eri asks quietly, curled up against your belly and chest on the big couch while hugging her tail and gazing at the brightly flashing lights from the tv screen as the object in question quietly walked through the woods. rubbing her ears gently and drawing a stuttery purr ( she was still learning! ) you chuckle softly.

“i don’t see why not,” you reply gently, and she giggles excitedly.

“i hope i have one in another world, they’re so pretty,” she sighs, her eyes drooping a little as she grows more and more tired. her brother, curled up behind you, is already dozing and on the verge of sliding into a deeper sleep — something you wished eri could follow suit with when it came to bedtimes. that being said, you’d not regretted bringing the two home a single time, and they’d more than made a home for themselves in your and shouta’s hearts. shouta, despite trying to keep up the grumpy old man exterior you were so fond of, was obsessed with the two and hardly let them out of his sight. he had no problem with eri following him everywhere and demanding to be carried or izuku asking endless questions, no problem sharing his nap spots with them and making larger meals when it was his turn to cook and sacrificing all of his personal time to pay attention to them. he was perfect — and while at first you’d worried that maybe he would grow tired of it after living such a quiet, lazy life, he’d shown too much mild-mannered excitement to really convince you that that had happened. he enjoyed the two living with you both, and you were more than happy with your decision once the misunderstanding he had initially had had cleared up.

eri yawns hard and nuzzles into you, seeking out the natural warmth your body would provide her despite the many blankets you and shouta kept on the couch for the two kittens to roll around on and nest in. as she begins to fall asleep, you sneakily take your cellphone and begin searching amazon for the best unicorn plushies you can find, knowing exactly what the little girl would like best after the last year and a half with her. she’d say she liked anything you got her, but she’d be especially obsessed if the toy’s mane was light blue, and that’s what you would find her. while searching, you glance at the time and nibble at your lip nervously.

shouta should have been home at least two hours ago.

you’d trusted him to go out and get some snacks for the four of you as well as pick up the food you’d ordered for dinner; while you’d both been cooking more at home with two little mouths to feed, tonight was friday, and the two always got to pick on fridays whether they wanted to order out or cook at home. he’d gone out at a little past five and should have been back around six or six-thirty, but it was almost eight and you were getting nervous and the kids were getting hungry, so you made them both popcorn and put on a couple movies.

what could have happened? it wasn’t abnormal for families to have hybrids do some chores, not since they’d gained a few more freedoms in 2019, so no one would question shouta being there or give him a hard time over it — and same with the fast food place. he had his identification card with all of your info and his on it, he had more than enough money for everything, he was fully clothed and spoke well, so he should have been home with no issues — and yet here you were, and here he was not.

you were almost ready to wake izuku and tell him to keep an eye on his sister while you went out to look for shouta ( although in a way that wouldn’t worry the two ) when you hear the door unlock and open. the smell of the food you’d ordered slowly begins to enter the house, and a gruff, “‘m home,” from shouta in the entry hall makes you relax.

“if you ever go that long without updating me when you’re gonna run late, i’m gonna kick your ass,” you sigh, knowing he can hear you. you hear him chuckle lightly in the kitchen, and you roll your eyes as eri and izuku both start to stir from the smell of food hitting them.

blinking awake tiredly, eri’s eyes brighten when the smell fully reaches her. “food!” she squeaks excitedly, wiggling out of your grip. “and sho! food ‘nd sho!”

izuku also abandons you on the couch with an excited noise, and you sigh through a smile before following their swinging tails to the kitchen where you could hear shouta unpacking everything. the slightly scared gasp that follows eri when she reaches the door to the kitchen, however, has you on alert and you rush over, scooping her up into your arms where she clings to you.

“i have acquired a child,” you hear shouta rumble, and you let out a disbelieving noise.

“shouta, what the fuck does that mean?!” you ask wildly, and you peer into the kitchen only for your eyes to widen.

behind shouta was a purple-haired kitten that looked to be around izuku’s age, and he looked absolutely terrified. of what, you were unsure, but hopefully you could help him — shouta wouldn’t bring him home without such an intent in mind.

“he’s purple,” eri whispers from her place in your arms, and you nod slightly.

“yes… he is…” you answer slowly, never taking your eyes off of him. izuku moves to go in, and the other boy lets out a frightened hiss, his own fluffy tail shooting up and izuku racing to move behind you. never tearing your eyes from the new boy, you notice how he does the same with shouta, his little fluffy head peeking out from behind the eldest hybrid, and your heart aches.

god, he’s a mess. sticks and debris in his hair, cuts and scrapes and dirt all over, no shoes and shredded old clothes — he had to be a stray of some kind.

“he’s ours now,” shouta says simply, returning to unbagging the food. there’s extra there, likely for the new kitten he’s brought home, and you watch as he flicks the boy in the face with his thick tail and the kittenboy relaxes a little before making your way into the kitchen as well. he puffs up again, eyes filling with slight panic, but you pay it no mind and sit eri on her chair before coaxing her brother into the kitchen as well.

“come on, izuku, it’s time to eat,” you say softly, but he’s too busy glancing worriedly between the boy and his chair to do so.

“he won’t do anything, kit,” shouta rumbles lowly, “y’just startled him — come eat your dinner. i know you’re hungry.”

“i am!” eri squeals excitedly, kicking her legs in her chair and grinning when shouta gives her her plate. she starts eating immediately and wiggles happily in her seat.

izuku, trusting shouta implicitly, quietly squeezes into the kitchen and into his seat, thanking shouta softly when given his own plate and receiving a nod in return. he starts eating as well, and your eyes lock with shouta’s and he asks you a silent question that you answer with a glance to the kitten hybrid behind him ( who’s looking at the other children eating with confusion ), and he sets to making the young boy his own plate as well.

“here,” he grunts, “eat up.”

the boy is quiet for a long time, staring wistfully at the food but avoiding it as if it were a trap. “they haven’t eaten yet,” he mumbles, glancing at you as he says it, and you and shouta share another look before you take the plate from shouta’s hands and gently set it on the table in front of the boy, not wanting to startle him.

“you can eat before me, sweetheart,” you say softly, your voice kind. “no one will be angry with you.”

“but — but humans are supposed to eat first!” he argues quietly, as if the thought of him eating before a human was absurd, before he realizes what he’d done and cowers back a little. “i’m sorry-!”

you swallow hard. god, you and shouta were gonna be in for it with this one.

“eat dinner, sweet boy,” you say softly, trying your best to coax him back to you. “we all eat together here — eri and izuku are just really hungry, that’s why they’re eating already.”

“yeah, we waited forever!” eri says brightly through a mouthful of rice.

“don’t talk with your mouth full,” shouta scolds gently, and she giggles around it and goes back to eating happily. you move to stand beside him and begin taking out the groceries to put them away, and when you turn your back to put up some ice cream you’re pleased to hear a chair scoot a little and someone quietly begin eating. you know it’s the boy when shouta quietly prises him, and when you turn around and see him wolfing down the food, you sigh.

it was going to be a long night for you two, it seemed.

𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © { 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 } 𝐛𝐲 𝟒𝐈𝐙𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐒. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐲, 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞, 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭.

#shouta aizawa x reader #aizawa shouta x reader #shouta aizawa x you #aizawa shouta x you #my hero academia x reader #my hero academia x you #shou_nya.♡#shouta.♡#if u want a continuation of shinsou content just ask <33

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benevolentcalamity · 1 month

Text

By the Ruinous Sea [Susabi x GN!Reader]

It's been a while since I did a fic for Onmyoji, so what better way to return to it than with my first SSR. Heheeee~

CURTAINS!

"Susabi-Kamisama."

With a flick of your fingers, the incense lights, the distant tide calming in a blink.

"Hear me..."

A village by the sea, once proud with bounties of fish and joy. Legends speak of a boy who lived in it that could predict the coming storms, and thusly the people were blessed with his fortunes and visions. Over time, though, his predictions would be more wrong by the day, until the village turned against him. In their fury, they deemed him a perfect sacrifice to their god.

What followed was perfect ruin. Be it because the god rejected their offering, or simply that they had disgraced a gift, the village was decimated beyond repair. Very few managed to escape all this trauma, and whoever did could only speak that fear in hushed tongues.

Your mother, for example, and her mother before and even her mother before, passed this tale down. It took you a long time to track down this village, moreso because the wreckage is unrecognizable from many others like it. But now you're here, and you can finally unload this burden.

"I am not a child of this village, therefore I've no right to speak or pray on its behalf - of this you know yourself." You swallow. "But all the same, I ask your forgiveness of those who once lived here. Their grave sin of spurning your gift cost them dearly, the punishment swift and absolute." For a moment there's a flicker, and you pause, opening your ears, before clearing your throat. "They hadn't a clue the weight of their decisions. Even so, it was too cruel an action, sacrificing a dear child that had brought no evil."

Outside, the tide roars a moment, slapping against the rotted wood door. At first you're shaken to the core; could it be Susabi himself responding to you? Or perhaps it's something else. All the same, you must finish your prayer. Tightening your palms together, the prayer beads sway on your wrists with the growing breeze.

"... Susabi-kamisama, forgive them, I beg." You swallow. "That regret haunted them, and it haunts us, their distant children. Their souls cry with each homage, and the scent of the ocean brings naught but tears. The time for that pain has passed, has it not? For that poor boy rests now among the stars... My only wish is for him and you to know, truly, how deeply we seek atonement."

The ocean goes quiet, unbearably. At the same time, the wind does as well.

"Susabi-kamisama..."

Shame weighs down your heart, not in an insincere prayer, but a notion it will never be heard. Perhaps it is deserved - what god would listen to a lineage like yours that cursed a gift? - and yet you can't help but despair. Swallowing harshly, you lower your folded hands onto the ground, adjusting so you can rest your forehead on them. You'll remain for a while... Maybe get some sleep before you begin the journey home.

You hardly have enough in your purse to buy more meat buns, and traveling merchants are more... lascivious when it comes to someone like you so pious and gentle. But you're hardly a fool, so the berating is not new.

A soft light on the sand draws your eye, and slowly you rise up. With the incense halfway burned, and the offerings still fresh, you blink. Something passes through your heart, and you unevenly gasp, standing and whirling around.

Standing there at the door, arms crossed, is a man. Deep indigo, almost black hair near-obscures the one eye, his ornate clothes signifying deep importance. Displeasure, annoyance even, curls his lip and furrows his brows, sharp eyes looking down at you. Not from his nose, no, but simply from his standing. Even with a momentary onceover you realize, this is not a man to be trifled with.

"Foolish humans... They reject the gifts from the gods they so wanted, and take so long to show even a hint of remorse for their callousness." His derision isn't directed at you, and yet it stings. "... Their god is not here. Your prayers shall be heard by no one. Even if it were, what good would it do now? If your distant ancestors were complicit in the child's suffering, then it would be their duty to apologize, not you."

"Children pay for the sins of their parents," You reply. "... That's what I've always known."

An exasperated huff is the response, and your brow furrows.

"... Even if it isn't my responsibility to apologize for what was done that day, it has never felt right to me to brush it away as simple folklore or a wives' tale. If I can do this much, then the guilt that has haunted us for so long will be lifted, someday." You swallow. "Be it by their own admission, or on behalf of the dead, is it not unfair that a past sin be ignored?"

"And is it fair, then, that a babe be punished for a father's cruelty?"

Your hands tremble. "... No."

"The guilt you speak of is a bodiless heirloom of no value. The sin committed in this place has been punished, and there is no more to say or do. The gods will hear no prayer that is unneeded to say." He takes a few steps closer to you, towering over you. "... Leave this village, and do not return - you have no business bearing sins uncommitted."

Somehow, someway, you maintain to meet his eyes. "... Who are you, exactly?"

He doesn't answer.

"You know of this village as well, don't you? What is your family name?"

He remains silent, his gaze drawing to the side as the ocean regains its vigor.

You gulp. "... Wait a moment..."

That's when you have his attention. "The tides will recede tonight, another wave to follow. Before long it'll sweep away what remains of this place." Then his eyes snap back to you. "... Go home, [Name]. And don't come back."

A cold whir in your ears, and your one hand rises. "... Susabi-kamisama...?"

His hand sweeps, and the incense burns out, the ocean beginning to roar. "Leave."

Defeat draws a soft breath from your chest, and you decide to simply do as he says. Pushing open the rotted door, you notice the ominous calm of the sea. Biting your lip, you note how it shrinks away, little by little, like a critter not wanting to be seen by a fox. Seems it is readying itself for another tsunami...

Your innate demeanor guides you to turn back to thank him for the warning, but strangely, the man is gone. All that remains is the soft glimmer that only slightly resembles the divine starlight that twinkled even in his eyes.

A soft nod, and you turn to begin the journey, clutching your beads tight as you ascend into the lonely paths of the highlands.

"Susabi-kamisama... I thank you, for your mercy."

A shooting star above, straight forward over your path, is the sole reply.

#onmyoji #susabi #onmyoji susabi #onmyoji x reader #my writing #writers of tumblr #our favorite grumpy gus

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neverwanttofallasleep · 8 months

Text

I Never Want To Fall Asleep - Chapter 2

Word count: 6,800

For pairings, warnings, and disclaimer - see Masterpost

Friday, December 16th, 2022

Manchester, England to London, England

You finally wake up to the chime of your third alarm, ringing out loudly into the dark hotel room. 6.35am. You’ve always struggled with waking up early, especially after a show night.

You groan, rolling over to silence your phone. You reach your arm back to pat the space next to you, knowing Jake is just as heavy a sleeper and usually requires an in-person wake up call, only to find the right side of the large bed empty.

Suddenly the memory of last night rushes back to you, and you jolt upright. As you slowly return to full consciousness, you become aware of the puffy tightness around your eyes and the ache in your chest. No doubt the residual evidence of crying yourself to sleep.

After Jake had stormed back down the hotel corridor to the elevator, you’d scrambled to find your room key and shut yourself in as quickly as you could manage.

You’d thrown your bags down onto the leather armchair in the corner of the room, fighting back tears, suddenly more angry than upset at his outburst. You hadn’t deserved that. If you felt guilty, so should he. It was his relationship at stake, not yours. You hadn’t made it up in your head, you knew there was something between the two of you, something that had your stomach in knots every time you were around him.

You’d sunken down onto the scratchy hotel carpet, each emotion hitting you like a brick. This job, this tour, it meant so much to you. You loved the work, and the music, getting to travel the world and seeing new cities each day. You’d truly been living your dream. But at the centre of it all, there was Jake. From the moment he’d first spoken to you at that crew party, you’d felt drawn to him. Like your centre of gravity had shifted. Every exciting moment you’d had while you’d been on the road, every new experience, it was all made better when you could share it with him.

You’d hugged your knees to your chest, finally allowing yourself to choke out the sobs you’d been holding in since he’d raised his voice at you. What did this all mean? You couldn’t continue this friendship as it had been. To be totally honest, in that moment, you weren’t even sure if he wanted to. But you’d known, whatever had occurred tonight, it couldn’t happen again. You were so embarrassed that you’d told him your relationship had felt like more than friendship to you. You knew he couldn’t possibly feel that way about you, he had Lily. Whatever these feelings were, they were yours, and yours alone. You couldn’t let yourself feel that way. He was off limits for you, and if that meant sacrificing your friendship, then so be it.

You’d sat there on the floor, switching between crying, sucking in sharp breaths, and just sitting in silence with your head resting on your knees, for what felt like hours. When you’d finally pulled out your phone, you saw a notification on your lock screen. 1 new text. Quietly hoping for a message from him, you’d swiped it open, only to find a reply from the dry-cleaner.

12.10am Pete M (GVF dry cleaner): No worries, Y/N. Britannia Hotel, yes? Text me your room number - see you at 7.

Shit. The jumpsuit. You quickly replied with the details and locked your phone.

1.33am. You still had work to do, and as much as you wanted to crawl into bed and sleep forever, you knew that the show must go on.

You'd gotten up slowly, stretching out your arms and legs from sitting for so long. You trudged toward the small bathroom, only glancing at yourself in the mirror briefly before reaching in to turn on the shower. The back of your neck was still sticky and you could smell the reek of tequila in your hair and clothes as you stripped them off.

You’d climbed into the shower and hissed when the too-hot water hit your shoulders, but you didn’t mind. You needed it to wake you up, and draw the tension from your muscles. You stood under the spray for a while, splashing your face, hoping to remove some of the redness from your eyes. You’d scrubbed your arms and legs, quickly washing your hair, and when you felt sufficiently clean, you reluctantly turned off the water and stepped out.

After wrapping your hair in a fluffy hotel towel and throwing on an old t-shirt and a pair of underwear, you grabbed your back-pack and tote from the chair and sat yourself up in bed to do your mending.

It didn’t take long, it was just a small tear in the chiffon, right on the seam of the arm and shoulder. After 20 minutes or so, you were happy with your work, your fingers a little sore from hand stitching, and you decided you were done for the night.

You knew with a night off tomorrow in London you’d have plenty of time to prepare the clean clothes once Pete returned them, and your one urgent job was now complete. You were satisfied that the mundane work had taken your mind off of Jake, for the time being.

You’d hung up Josh’s jumpsuit on a wire hanger on the back of the door, repacking your sewing supplies and your empty tote into your back-pack, placing them back near your duffle bag, where you’d dumped your jeans and crew t-shirt from the day. You turned off the overhead light, crawling back into the soft bed. You’d wished that Jake had been there with you. You missed the comfort of a warm body next to you, the familiar sound of his breathing when he inevitably fell asleep before you, and the way he would drape his arm over your waist in the middle of the night.

You’d sighed, reaching up to flick off the bedside lamp, setting your alarms and burrowing down under the covers. In the silence, it took you a while to get to sleep, Jake’s sad expression painted on the inside of your eyelids. But when sleep finally found you, you slept like the dead.

Now, you draw the curtains, the sun not yet having begun to rise over the sprawling, grey city. Yesterday, Manchester had seemed full of possibility. This morning, the dark sky and buildings leeched of colour in the moonlight mirror your mood. You walk over to the small dresser opposite the bed, flicking on the electric kettle. Tea will have to do this morning, you’re over the instant coffee packets you’ve been finding in UK hotels. As the kettle boils, you make your way to the bathroom, running a brush through your sleep-dried hair and pulling it up into a messy bun.

You pack away the remainder of your toiletries, washing your face, rolling on some deodorant and applying some SPF and mascara before zipping up the bag and stowing it back in your duffle. You pull out a casual outfit, just some comfy linen pants and a green sweater, stripping your pyjamas and tossing them into the bag before zipping it closed.

You get dressed leisurely, having given yourself an extra buffer of time. You kind of regret this, as it gives you more minutes to stew over the events of the night before. Once you’ve donned your boots, you lay out your coat and scarf on the bed, ready to brave the December chill of the city in less than half an hour. You check your phone for the time. 6.54am. Pete will be here in a few minutes. You brew your tea, giving Josh’s jumpsuit a final once over as you let the teabag steep. You’re a little proud of your handiwork, considering your emotional state.

As you’re topping up your tea with one of those little plastic packets of milk, there’s a quiet knock at the door. You open it and greet Pete good morning.

“Cold this morning.” He grumbles.

You chuckle, retrieving the garment from the hook and handing it to him.

“Sure is. See you in London!”

He gives a gruff wave and heads back down the hallway.

After you’ve had your tea and sufficient time to panic over how things will go with Jake today, you bundle up in your warm clothes, pack your final items into your purse and make your way down to the hotel lobby.

When you make it out the front entrance, it’s still dark, and the chill bites your cheeks immediately. You beeline for the crew bus. Jake usually makes space for you on one of the sleeper buses with him and the band, but you don’t feel like you’ll be welcome there today.

As you’re loading your bags into the back of the mini-bus, Sam and Lennon catch you as they’re heading out into the porte-cochere.

“Morning, Y/N!” Lennon chirps. She looks undeniably sprightly this morning, especially when standing next to Sammy, who looks like he’s about to fall flat on his face at any moment, gripping tightly to a paper cup of what you assume to be coffee. It doesn’t even look like his eyes have fully opened yet.

You give them a small wave and turn back to loading your belongings.

She gives Sam a pat on shoulder, which makes him wince, before bounding over to you.

“We’re sharing the bus with Jake today, Danny and Josh are gonna take the other one. So we can catch up!” She giggles excitedly. “Sammy’s not feeling too flash - I can’t imagine Jake is either, to be honest, after the amount those two drank last night.” She’s laughing as she says this, but it makes your stomach drop. It doesn’t take much to piece together why Jake would’ve wanted to get shitfaced last night. “But, I reckon they’ll sleep the whole trip, which is perfect ‘cause I just wanna hang out with you!”

You shake your head, unsure how to navigate this. Would Jake want them all to know what happened between the two of you last night? You assumed he’d go right to Sam’s room to have a bitch about it, but given Lennon’s assumption that you’d be riding on his bus, it sounds like he didn’t.

“I dunno. I’m not feeling 100% today.” It’s not totally a lie, your head is swimming with anxiety. “I might ride on the crew bus so I can take a nap.”

She scoffs. “Don’t be silly, hon! The boys aren’t feeling good either, and you’d be much more comfy on one of the bunks if you want to nap. As long as we get to ride together - you can sleep the whole trip if you need to! I’ve got some reading to catch up on anyway.” You close up the trunk of the mini bus, but not before she snags your purse and throws it over her shoulder. She puts her arm around you, turning and leading you both toward the first of the two giant, black buses.

You haven’t seen any sign of Jake yet, which is good, but at the same time also kind of unsettling. You’re wondering what kind of state he’ll be in this morning, but if Sammy is any indication, it won’t be good. Jake is always in a shitty mood when he’s got a hangover.

Lennon leads you up the stairs onto the bus, where Sam is already sprawled across the small sofa in the front compartment. As you walk through, he groans loudly and throws his arm across his eyes.

Lennon sighs, reaching down to brush some hair from his forehead.

“Drama queen.” She mutters.

He peeks his eyes out. “Wrong brother.” He retorts. “Josh is the drama queen.”

“Seems it runs in the family.” She chides.

He huffs and covers his eyes again.

You situate yourself at the small table across the way from the sofa, pulling your knitting out of your purse. You’ve always been one to hand-make gifts, and you’d been knitting small things for the boys in the band for Christmas presents. Luckily you’d already finished Jake’s, and it was stowed away safely in your duffle, not to be thought about. You were working on a chunky purple and navy scarf for Danny, and you were about a third of the way into it.

Lennon slides into the bench seat opposite you.

“That’s gorgeous. Who’s it for?”

You smile at your work. “Danny. It’s a Christmas gift. These are his colours, I think.”

She grins, running her hand over the soft wool. “Definitely.” She hums. “I need coffee.”

Sam perks up at this. “There’s a hot water urn under the sink.” He points to the little kitchenette behind the driver’s seat. “And a French press too. And coffee grounds, I think.”

Lennon rolls her eyes and gets up.

She gestures her chin at you. “You want one?”

You nod enthusiastically. “I’d kill for a real coffee after what we’ve been having here.”

She giggles. “Amen to that!”

As Lennon starts to prepare the necessary items for coffee, you hear boots clacking up the bus steps. You’d know the sound of those footsteps anywhere.

“Back from the dead!” Lennon greets him with a grin. “Good morning, Jake.”

“Yeah, ‘morning.” He nods at her. He smiles when he sees his brother napping on the couch. “You look about as good as I feel, Sammy.”

Sam chuckles from under his arm. “Well, you said it. At least we don’t have to drive.”

Jake looks like he’s about to reply with some quip, when he spots you sitting at the table behind Lennon.

“Uh, I’m going back to sleep.” He says quickly.

He makes a small noise of acknowledgement toward you, which sounds a lot like a grunt, and then brushes past and draws the curtain to the bunk compartment.

You aren’t quite sure what you were expecting from him today, but you guess avoidance is better than confrontation. It still stings though. If this had been yesterday morning, he might have slid into the booth next to you.

He might’ve admired your knitting, telling you how impressed he was at how much you’d managed to complete in the past 24 hours. He might have teased you, asking what you were gonna make for his gift, because you’d been so sneaky about hiding it from him. He might have slung his arm around the back of the bench seat while you both gratefully accepted your steaming mugs of coffee from Lennon, occasionally letting his finger tips brush over your shoulder with the movement of the bus. He might have moved to the couch when Sammy finally retired to the bunks, pulling out his acoustic and strumming a private show for you and Lennon. You loved watching him when the music would just come to him. Like he was channeling it from some higher power. He could just play and play and play, tuning out the world, glancing at you every so often just to catch you staring.

Instead, you thank Lennon as she places a single mug of coffee on the small table, and goes over to sit on the couch with Sam’s head in her lap.

About an hour in, when you’ve done a sufficient amount of knitting and downed two coffees, the 4 hours of sleep you’ve had is starting to creep up on you.

Lennon catches you, unable to keep your eyes open.

“Oh, hon, you do look exhausted. Go have a lie down in the bunks. It’ll make the ride go so much faster.”

You smile at her appreciatively, but realise this would mean having to interact with Jake, or at the very least, invade his space.

“I’m alright. I’ll lay on the couch if Sammy moves to the bunks.”

Sam grunts. “Not moving. M’comfy here.”

Lennon laughs, picking up his head and placing it on a cushion so she can get up from her spot.

“C’mon, girl. You need your beauty rest. You’ve got a job to do here too, don’t you forget.”

She’s right, and you realise you won’t get any work done today if you don’t sleep. You’ll just crash as soon as you get the hotel.

She helps you pack your knitting back into your purse and ushers you down the hall. At this moment, you really wish this was one of those buses with a private double bed at the rear. At least then, you could rest assured Jake would’ve taken it, and you could take one of the bunks without fear of running into him. Instead, this one just has a tiny bathroom at the back with a toilet and shower, but only 4 beds, 2 bunks on either side of the walkway.

Lennon pulls back the curtain and then draws it closed behind you as you step into the small space. You can hear small snores coming from the bed Jake has claimed, and you breathe a sigh of relief. You won’t actually have to speak to him. Just fear his wrath if he wakes up and sees you across the way.

They are small bunks, but comfortable enough, especially with how sleepy you are. You place your bag and coat on the top bunk, sitting down on the bottom one to pull off your boots. You place them delicately under the bed, careful not to make any noise. You stand again to grab your headphones from your purse, when your phone slips out of your pocket and clatters to the floor.

“Fuck.” You mutter.

“What the fuck was that?” Jake groans, eyes still closed.

“Sorry, dropped my phone.” His eyes shoot open when he realises it’s you standing in front of him.

“Right.” He says quietly. “Uh, why are you in here?”

“I didn’t get much sleep last night.” You cringe a bit at the confession, knowing he’s the reason you slept so poorly. “Lennon forced me to come in here and take a nap because I couldn’t keep my eyes open.” You know you’re rambling, but you don’t know how to navigate this situation. “Sorry if you don’t want me in here, it’s just that, Sam’s taken up the couch and there’s no other beds.” You’ve never had any type of bad energy with Jake, not even a disagreement. This is new territory for both of you.

He sighs. “Ok. Keep it down, please.” He rolls over to face the wall, tucking the blanket up over his ears.

You slide into the small bed, pulling the blanket up around you, and place your headphones over your ears. You unlock your phone to choose some music to help you sleep. You almost always listen to music to fall asleep. You’ve done it ever since you were a kid. You’ve tried white noise, sleep-casts, rain sounds, but nothing puts you to sleep quite like your favourite songs.

The only time you don’t, is when you have someone sleeping next to you. The sound of their breathing is just as good. Stella snored like a chainsaw, and you’d secretly loved it. The reassurance of knowing she was there had always relaxed you. This was also especially true for Jake. He’s broad, and warm like a space heater, and breathes heavily through his nose. It was so comforting.

Right now, though, knowing how he’s feeling about you, you can’t stand to hear him, or even acknowledge the fact that he’s less than 4 feet away from you.

You put on ‘Line of Fire’ by Junip, turn to face the wall, and quickly fall asleep.

You wake up to the sound of laughter, it sounds like Sammy. You groan and stretch, your limbs tight from the cramped space. You’ve rolled over in your sleep, your headphones have slid down around your neck, and when you open your eyes, you see Jake’s empty bunk across from you.

You hear laughing again, louder this time, and you can hear Jake laughing, too.

Fuck.

You can’t go out there, you’ll ruin his mood.

You’re beginning to feel guilty about your conversation last night. You know he overreacted. He didn’t have any right to go off at you like that. But, you keep reminding yourself, it’s not his fault that you have feelings for him. And maybe, he really did have no idea until last night. Maybe that spark you feel between the two of you, just isn’t there for him. What he said about you being only a friend to him, it had to be true, right? Otherwise what reason would he have had to get so mad?

Plus, it’s his tour. His band, his family. Like you said last night. You’re his employee. Friendship aside, it would be inappropriate for you to treat him any differently than you did yesterday, or any of the days before. You’ve gotta keep it professional and put his feelings first, and your emotional involvement aside.

You realise you really have to pee, so you quietly climb up from the bunk and head to the small bathroom. When you wash your hands, you splash your face with some water, trying to revive yourself. You swipe under your eyes with some paper towel to remove your running mascara, and re-do your bun. You look fine. No one cares, anyway.

When you open the door to head back to your bunk, Sam has drawn the curtains in the walkway.

“Good morning, princess! How’d you sleep?”

“Oh, yeah. Not too bad. As well as one can in these beds.” You smile ruefully. “What time is it? How long have we got left?”

“Almost there! Like half an hour, they reckon.” He seems much more alive than earlier. “Come join, we’re having a celebratory hair of the dog.”

Ah, they’re drinking again. That must be what’s got both Sam and Jake in such good spirits.

You sigh. “Nah, I think I’m good. I’ve got work to do when we get to London, unlike you lot. I might just sit in here a bit longer.”

Sammy whines. “Come onnnnn, Y/N! We’re having fun! Plus, Lennon missed you so much. Spend some time with her before I whisk her away to the next hotel room.”

You concede, nodding your head, and follow Sam out to the main compartment.

Lennon is sitting in the booth, and Sam slides in opposite her. This leaves the other seat on the couch as the only free one.

Next to Jake.

You sit down, leaving as much space as you can between the two of you.

You’ve come to the decision that you’re not upset with him. You’re upset that you might be losing your friend, and you’re kind of pissed off that he’s not acknowledging you, even now as he and Sam banter over their vodka sodas, and Lennon leans over to you every few minutes, asking to be caught up on the inside jokes. You’re annoyed that he was so angry last night, and didn’t give you a chance to have a real conversation about things.

But you’re not upset with him. You’re scared of your own feelings, and you wonder even if things between you are repairable, whether you should bother at all.

You glance over to him every few minutes, and a couple of times you catch him looking at you, too. He doesn’t deliberately exclude you from the conversation, but if you had to guess, he was probably just trying not to rouse suspicion from the others. He never speaks to you directly, and you feel your heart fracturing just a little bit more.

When you arrive at the hotel in London, you disembark the bus as quickly as you can, keen to get away from the awkwardness you’ve endured for the last 40 minutes. It’s a little warmer here than it was in Manchester, but not by much. You head over to the mini-bus, which has beaten you all there significantly, your bags being the last to be unloaded.

You grab your things, and head into the lobby to retrieve your room key.

The band and crew are standing in a loose circle around the elevators, waiting for Craig, the tour manager, to provide the necessary information required for your stay in London. It’s about midday now, and you’ll be here for two nights total, with a show at the Alexandra Palace tomorrow.

Only two more nights, then back home. You can get through two nights.

Josh comes up by your side, slinging an arm around you.

“How was the ride?” He asks, chewing on a granola bar.

You muster as much of a smile as you can manage. “Oh, yeah. Nothing to report, really. I slept most of the way. Needed to catch up.”

He chuckles. “Well, we need you in ship-shape for the next couple’a days, so I for one am glad to hear it!”

You gather Jake hasn’t spoken to him, either.

“What are your plans for the holidays, Y/N? I keep meaning to ask you.”

“Not much, to be honest. Gonna spend them in New York. Got a few college friends I’ve been meaning to catch up with, and the tour will provide lodgings for the crew that’s staying in the city, so I figure I might as well, you know?” You try to keep yourself from sounding unenthusiastic, but it’s not really anything special.

“Aw, well, that sounds nice. At least you’ll get to have a White Christmas, hey?” He begins to hum Bing Crosby in your ear, and you giggle.

“Exactly. Might go see the ball drop. I’ve never been in person. Never wanted to brave the crowds.”

“Sound lovely.” He grins.

Craig starts calling out departments, names and room numbers as people meander about the foyer.

“Alright, wardrobe. Y/N - you’re in room 528.”

You walk up to collect your cards and head back to Josh.

“Did you get yours yet?” You ask him.

“Yeah, 419. Same floor as Sam and Lennon. Danny, too, I think.” You love that Josh is an over sharer. You’re trying to scope out if you’ll be running into Jake.

“Any idea about Jake?” You ask casually. It wouldn’t be suspicious for you to want to know where he was staying, considering everyone on tour knew of your friendship. Perhaps only a little suspicious that you’d be asking Josh instead of Jake himself, but you hoped he wouldn’t notice.

“Floor 5, I’m pretty sure.” You feel your gut sink.

“Sweet.” You mumble.

You wait back in the lobby for a bit, hoping not to run into him. You find Freddie and Julie, relieved to see some familiar, friendly faces.

“Holy shit, that mini-bus driver was a manic. Being on the wrong side of the road is bad enough, but he was going so fucking fast I thought we were gonna die.” Julie gushes to you.

Freddie laughs. “God, yeah. It was terrifying. But we had a good karaoke sesh, Y/N. Lots of Taylor Swift. You should’ve joined! I thought when you were putting your bags in the trunk, you must’ve been riding with us.”

You smile apologetically. “Yeah, sorry about that. I’d planned to, but Lennon wanted to catch up, so I rode with Jake and Sam.”

“Fuckin’ Jake.” Julie grumbles. “He’s always stealing you away from us. Just ‘cause you’re a pretty girl and he’s a rockstar. It’s not fair.”

You try to keep your laugh light. “Sorry! Next time, I promise. Once we’re back home.” You squeeze her hand. “I’d love to hear you belting some Love Story, Freddie.”

He laughs. “Nah, Shake It Off is my jam. Killed it this morning. Woke Tom up from his nap. Worth it, I reckon.” You all laugh.

You look around and see the lobby has mostly cleared, so you gesture to them to follow you to the elevators.

“What floor are you guys?”

Julie checks her card. “6. Freddie?”

“Yeah, same. I think most of the crew are on 5 or 6. You?”

You sigh. “5.” He presses the button for you.

Of course, no one you knew was on the same floor as you. Except for Jake.

There are roughly 38 crew on the tour, including the band, plus some friends and family that have joined for this leg. About 45 rooms are booked. And out of everyone, yours and Jake’s just happen to be so close.

Yesterday, that would’ve made you happy. Would’ve been easier for you to sneak into his room tonight when you got done with your work, without the teasing comments from his brothers or your friends.

Alas, things rarely work out as you plan them.

You unpack your things onto the nightstand and bathroom counter, doing a quick check of the mini-bar to find, yet again, instant coffee. You groan.

Ah, well. Could be worse. At least there was some champagne.

You decide to take a shower after the bus ride, feeling grimy and still a bit achy from the small bed.

When you’re done and re-dressed in some sweats, you get a phone call from Pete telling you the first round of cleaning is done and ready to be collected. You know you’ve got some sequins to fix for Danny, so you slide on your slippers and a sweatshirt, and head down to the lobby to meet Pete.

As you wait, you contemplate texting Jake. After the bus, you wonder if maybe he’s waiting for you to say something. What exactly you’d say, you have no idea.

Before you can even open the message thread, Pete shuffles into the hotel, a clothing rack of black garment bags in tow. One of the bellboys tries to offer him a hand, but he waves them off.

You love Pete. He’s a grumpy old bastard, but he’s got a soft spot for you. He understands your dedication to your craft, and he often tells you that you remind him of his mother, who was a seamstress in LA in the 50’s and 60’s.

He reaches you, pulling the receipt from his pocket. “All sorted, love. I’ve already sent the invoice to Craig, but this has the inventory on it.” He puts it in your palm. “The next lot is on the truck being cleaned now, should be done by supper time.” He grumbles a little. “Some of it will need an extra iron. This cleaning van we’ve hired is rubbish. Tools don’t work so well. Can’t wait to get back home to old faithful.”

You smile warmly at him as he hands you the rack, nodding. “Thanks so much, Pete. You’re a star. Those boys would never be dressed without you.”

He laughs. “Well, a rock’n’roll band playing a show stark naked. People wouldn’t have bat an eyelid, back in my day.”

You giggle. “I’d pay to see that.”

“Well, missy, I bet you would.”

You blush. “Thanks, again. You can just load the rest of it straight back into the trunks, I’ll deal with it tomorrow.”

“No worries, Y/N. Don’t work too hard.”

You wave him off as he heads back out to the loading dock, where the cleaning van is parked.

You check the receipt as you roll the rack into the elevator, scanning for Danny’s cape. It’s on there - thank God. That one will probably take you the most time this afternoon. The rest of your prep is mostly ironing and steaming, which you’ll do tomorrow morning before you have to load in to the venue.

As you go to press the button for your floor, a hand slides between the doors and they reopen. You glance up, and see Jake looking back at you. He steps in.

“Oh, sorry.” You mutter. The rack is taking up a lot of space.

“It’s fine. What, uh, what floor are you?” He asks.

“5.” You say quietly.

“Perfect.” He mutters.

The ride is quiet, one person gets in on floor 2 and out again at 4.

As the doors close, you decide to break the tension.

“Are we gonna talk about it?”

He sighs. “Is there anything to talk about?”

You feel a pang of hurt at his words. “I don’t know, is there? We went from being best pals yesterday, to not talking at all today.” You sigh. “Guess I just want to know where we stand.”

The doors open and he steps out into the hallway, holding the door for you to wheel the rack out.

He runs a hand through his hair and replaces his sunglasses on his head. “You made it pretty clear, Y/N. You think we’re too co-dependant. Y’know, I thought giving you space would be the right thing to do.”

You frown. “And what about the fact that you practically blew up at me, swearing in my face?”

He sighs. “Yeah, dunno. Guess you kind of caught me off guard.”

Right. No apology.

“Okay, Jake. No worries.” You turn and walk down toward your room. As you stop to unlock your door, you turn back, and see him looking back too. He’s at his door, just on the other side of the elevator. He quickly glances away and disappears into his room.

As you step into yours and wheel the rack into the corner, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, realising the sweatshirt you’ve chosen.

It’s Jake’s.

You busy yourself with sequining, deciding it makes more sense just to pull all the old ones out and re-do them, which ends up taking you all afternoon and evening. At about 9.30pm, you realise all you’ve eaten today was a gas station sandwich Lennon picked up for you while you were asleep on the bus.

She texted you a couple of times earlier, letting you know that her, the boys and some of the crew were heading out into town for a drink, asking if you’d like to join. You’d politely declined, stating you had far too much work to do.

When you’re finally done sequining, you realise that you do need to eat some food, and you want to stretch your legs, so you wander down to the lobby to see if you can get anything from the restaurant.

You head straight to the counter, where a young waiter in all white is standing, counting receipts.

You smile at him. “Hey, the kitchen doesn’t happen to still be open, does it?”

He grins. “You’re in luck, ma’am. We’re just about to close but we had a couple of late comers tonight. What can I get you?”

You order some French fries and a side salad, and he offers to have it brought up to your room. You give him your room number and the details of the tour to charge it to, and head back upstairs with a wave.

This is a beautiful old hotel, with a huge staircase at the centre of the lobby up to the first floor. You decide to walk it, get some much needed blood flowing into your legs, and catch the elevator from there.

Once you finally make it back to your floor, you step out and make to turn toward your room, when you hear a grunt behind you. You turn to see Jake, fumbling with his keycard, sunglasses low on his nose. He looks up and spots you.

“Y/N! Help me, please. Can’t get into my room.” He grins at you sheepishly, the hard exterior he’s been putting up all day completely gone.

You think it over for a second. You can see from here that’s he beyond drunk, and you feel sorry for him. If it was yesterday, you wouldn’t have hesitated.

You sigh and head over to where he’s just dropped his wallet and phone on the ground and is struggling to pick them back up.

Once he’s upright again, you see that he’s grinning at you, eyes following you, staring even.

You hold out your hand for the keycard and he hands it to you.

“Thanks. Couldn’t get it to work.” He slurs.

“Had a big night, hey?” You ask as you tap the key card and swing the door open.

He laughs. “Was that easy, huh? I must’ve had a big one.”

You roll your eyes. “Well, judging by the fact you’re back here and looking pretty rough before 11pm, I’d say so.”

If you didn’t know him better, you could’ve sworn he blushed at that.

He sits down on the bed and you place his key on the nightstand.

You head for the door.

“Wait, Y/N.”

You turn, eyebrows raised.

“Can you stay for a minute? I, uh, I need some help.” He gestures to his shoes, embarrassed.

You huff. “Really, Jake? They don’t even have laces.”

He frowns. “I know that. Can’t feel my fingers at the moment. Wouldn’t be able to get the zippers. I’d just end up sleeping with them on.” He giggles.

You walk back over to the foot of the bed. He’s leaning back on his elbows, ankles extended toward you. You kneel down on the floor, unzipping his boots and placing them neatly on the floor next to the bedpost.

You remove his socks for good measure, and he hums as you place his feet back on the floor.

“Thank you.” He murmurs.

“It’s all good.” You reply. You stand up and take a step back, placing his socks on the dresser. “You gonna be alright now?”

He sits up, staring at you again. He just stays there for a few moments, a slow smile spreading across his face.

Finally, he speaks. “You’re so beautiful, Y/N.”

It takes you a second to process what he’s said, and even with his drunken slur, the words make your stomach flip. He’s called you pretty before, in one of his many attempts to get you flustered. This feels different. More… intense, somehow. You think about how you look right now, slippers and sweatpants, still wearing his sweatshirt from earlier, glasses on from sewing, hair air dried and hanging over your shoulders. You certainly don’t feel beautiful.

“You don’t mean that. You’re drunk.”

He hums. “I do mean it. Love looking at you, y’know.”

Your head clears, and you realise you need to take this for what it is. Drunken rambling.

“Okay, Jake. You need to go to sleep. Have you eaten?”

He waves you off. “Yeah, yeah. Had dinner out.”

“Alright. Hop into bed. I’ll turn the lights off when you’re in and then I’m going back to my room.”

He scoots back up the bed, fishing the covers out from underneath him and cocooning himself. He’s still fully dressed, but you’re not about to offer to help him with that.

“You got an alarm set?” You ask him.

“Ah, yeah, think I do.” He digs his wallet and phone out from his pocket and from under the blankets to hand them to you. You place his wallet on the nightstand with his room key and plug in his phone, seeing the little alarm icon on the lock screen.

“Yeah, you do. 9am.”

You put the phone down and flick off the lamp, walking around the bed to get the other one.

You make a spur of the moment decision to grab him some water from the bathroom before you go. As you’re returning to the bedroom, you hear him from under his cocoon.

“Please don’t go.”

You sigh, placing the water next to the bed. “I have to. I’ve got work to finish.” You lie. “And you and I aren’t really on the best of terms right now. I don’t think sober you would want me here.”

He rolls over and frowns at you. “I would. Slept so badly last night without you. Got drunk, still couldn’t get comfortable.” You don’t say anything, so he tries again. “You said you slept badly too. You’ll sleep better in here, with me.”

You feel the same pang of warmth in your tummy before you scold yourself. He’s drunk. He already told you how he feels. You can’t let yourself feel anything more.

“Sorry. I gotta go.”

He grumbles again, and you switch off the lamp and make your way out.

When you get back to your room, the silver tray and cloche are sitting on the floor by your door. You pick it up and make your way inside. You sit quietly for a bit, picking at the cold fries, sipping directly from a mini-bottle of champagne.

You ready yourself for bed, putting on some music and snuggling down under the blankets.

As you close your eyes, you think about how he was right.

You would’ve slept much better next to him.

Chapter 3

#jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka #josh kiszka #sam kiszka #danny wagner #greta van fleet

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alienaiver · 11 months

Text

"that's it. i'm removing you from the roster until you've stopped by the doctor."

you look at midoriya in disbelief. unable to keep yourself poised at his final decision, your shoulders slump and the exhaustion washes over you like a wave. he's seen through you.

it's been a year since your near-death experience with an all-too-powerful villain and while shinsou took great care of you during your recovery, something's been off ever since - you haven't been able to put a finger on it, though, so you decided to do what every self-sacrificing hero does: you powered through. until there was no power left to muscle your way out of it. and now it's become visible to others too. you have a feeling shinsou might've ratted you out, but you don't blame him. you'd done the same if it were him.

you get home in a daze and fall face first onto the bed. you don't wake up until you feel the weight shift and the warmth of shinsou's lips touches your cheek. but you don't have the energy to react with more than a hum. your eyelids are so heavy. there's a ringing in your ears but it's so constant that it just feels like a persistent buzz. shinsou says something as he settles behind you, arms wrapping themselves around you. for a while, you think there's silence but he says your name sternly in a voice he only uses when he knows you're not entirely listening to him. huh. you're mostly used to hearing it on the battlefield.

"i'm worried about you."

you sigh and hum, pushing yourself weakly back onto him, "'ve got a doc's appointment..... tomorrow."

he kisses the crown of your head, "okay... okay, good."

he's drawing soft circles into your arm and you drift away again. he wakes you when there's dinner and you perk up again slightly, but not enough to make him stop worrying his lip between his teeth. you fall asleep fifteen minutes into a movie later that night.

you put on your shoes and lock the door behind you, putting the keys in your pocket as you turn for the stairs at the end of the hall. you really wish there'd been an elevator in your building right now. as you walk down the steps, your feet feels heavier but you chalk it up to be your shoes. it's the sneakers you don't wear that often, but it's too cold for sandals today. you shrug it off and just concentrate more on walking.

the doctor goes through your symptoms with you but there's hardly any, you reassure her. you're just so exhausted no matter how many hours you sleep. she warns you that you may be sleeping too much. you agree with a laugh - you don't remember ever sleeping so many hours, having been an insomniac your entire youth. she does some blood tests and sends you home, saying you'll be called in when the answers are back.

the days that pass are all a blur. without your shifts at the agency, time becomes fuzzy around the edges. you don't have to get up, so you just stay in bed, since you've been told you need to rest anyways. on the third day you wake up to several notes on the bedside table, the bathroom mirror and the kitchen counter and fridge from shinsou with various reminders about eating and drinking properly and where he's stocked some snacks and prepped some food for you to reheat easily. you chuckle and shake your head at his antics. you're just tired, is all. the headaches comes with the job, you remind yourself as you try to gently massage out the tension in your neck to relieve your pounding head. he might be right about the water intake - you grab the cold bottle he's put in the fridge for you and brings it with you to the bed.

"i think you should call and ask if they've gotten the answers yet." shinsou says matter-of-factly and you nod, "yeah, it has been a few days. but it's the weekend, right? i'll call on monday." and that ends the conversation.

monday comes but you forget to call, even if you've been determined to do so. by the time you remember, the office is closed for the day. you sigh heavily and fall back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. you prepare the apology for shinsou on your tongue before you drift off.

tuesday morning your phone rings - several times. you finally reach out and pick up, thinking it's shinsou.

"i do apologize for the wait. the doctor unfortunately had to take some time off last week, but we have your results. will you be able to come in today?"

you agree, dragging yourself up. there's more energy in you today, but it should've been way more given the intense rest you've been having. you put on one of shinsou's hoodies and a pair of sweats before you drag yourself to the kitchen to grab a bite.

turns out, you suffer from anemia. an intense, prolonged form and need medication as soon as possible. shinsou's livid when he comes home and gets the news, angry that it has been missed when the agency periodically keeps an eye on their heroes' health. you sit on the chair with your hands folded like a child being scolded and try to laugh it off, "come on now, hito. i just need to take some medication and i'll be fine. the usual blood tests the past year haven't covered that - even if they should, i know," you hurry to add, "but i'll be fine, i promise."

shinsou sighs and his whole body slumps, leaning against the table you're sitting by. you take his hand, "i'm okay."

he visibly relaxes but there's something he's holding back. you've been together since high school, so you can read him like a book. you squeeze his hand, "open up."

he clicks his tongue with furrowed brows before he opens his mouth, "you've had these symptoms for months. why didn't you tell me?"

you look at the ground, guilt written on your face. mostly, because you don't have a proper answer to give him. you don't know why you didn't - the symptoms had all been sneaking up on you, snaking their way into your body quietly and suddenly it'd just become so chronic that you'd normalized it. you let out an apology and he squeeze your hand back, "it's okay to not have an answer. but please, can we be mindful of things like this in the future?"

you smile at him, "only if you continue to make the little post-it notes. they're adorable - especially your small doodles of dogs."

shinsou hides his face in his hands with a groan, "they were cats."

#target audience? me. i just got diagnosed w some kind of long term anemia and its all adding up lmao #shinsou hitoshi x reader #shinsou hitoshi fluff #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha fluff #TBH! im disabled! theres so much wrong w my body to begin w idk where the symptoms begin and end!#this is written etc on my phone. idk the wordcount rn sorry <3 #ill add that when im home !! im currently babysitting my beloved niece #edit my nieces making tiktoks abt her bunny right now so i counted on an app THIS IS 1K HELLO!!!?????#i just wrote it on a whim after the docs appointment KSKSKSKSSKSKKSKSKS #also this is partly why ive been inactibe i think. the doc thing took me OUT

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violet-shadows · 2 years

Text

I’d do anything for you.

Summary: Cassian will do anything to make his mate happy, even if it means sacrificing his own comfort.

Word Count: 2.9k

Pairing: Cassian x Reader

Warnings: mention of non-violent, non-graphic death of a pet

A/N: So I find I really enjoy writing for Cassian. Tbh I was a little unsure about this one but hopefully, you like it. As always, I’m open to feedback, prompts, and general chitchat. Drop me a line!

⊱ —————— ❈ —————— ⊰

You were young when your powers first manifested. Your mother had already put you to bed, drawing the curtains to hold in the heat and try to block out the howling wind. You were drifting in the twilight state between wake and sleep when you heard it, or rather, felt it. It started as a pit in your stomach, a sense of dread that didn’t quite belong to you. Then, you were shivering, the icy wind outside chilling you to the bone, despite the warmth underneath your covers. Before you could comprehend what you were feeling, you were out of bed and donning your coat and boots as quietly as you could manage. You slipped into the blinding snowstorm, the strange pull inside of you guiding your steps.

You found the source of your unease at the edge of the woods, huddled at the base of a great conifer tree. The faelights from your home provided just enough light for you to see two wide blue eyes peeking out from a snow-covered lump. It was a puppy, only just weaned, with fuzzy white and grey fur like the sled dogs bred in some parts of your court. When your eyes met hers, a message, crystal clear yet entirely unspoken, was relayed.

Help me.

And help her you did, your parents had been furious at first, but as time went on, they began to realize that your affinity for animals went beyond ordinary affection. It wasn’t so much that you could talk to the animals, for your languages and means of communicating were wholly mismatched, but, somehow, you could understand them. You could parse their needs, their emotions, and, if enough trust was established between the two of you, they might share a snippet or two of their experience, not unlike the way daemati could show memories to others. The puppy, who you named Selene, was the first animal with whom you shared a close connection. By the time her natural life came to an end two decades later, the two of you had long since learned to share information with ease, your communication as natural as thinking or breathing.

Other animals came in and out of your life. The birds and squirrels around your home would whisper their thanks when you brought them food, and in exchange, they would alert you to changes in the surrounding woods. The power, while rare, was not of particular political or defensive value, so most Fae regarded it as a novelty if nothing else. The newly minted High Lord of the Night Court, however, thought otherwise. Before meeting Rhysand, the extent of your communication with animals was largely idle chatter. But while others saw an oddity, Rhys saw potential. Under his tutelage, your ability to receive and convey messages with various creatures grew, and it was through the experience that your found ways to leverage your power for good. Animals, especially small, common creatures like birds or squirrels, or rats, are never thought of as threats to privacy. So, the creatures you had befriended were audience to private matters, and through your unique connection, they shared secrets of great political value.

It was through these activities that you became a permanent fixture in the Night Court’s Inner Circle, a makeshift family in which you also found your mate. When you first met Cassian, you were deep in mourning over your last close companion, a raven you met as a fledgling named Icarus. He remained your constant companion throughout his unusually long life, but eventually, time came for him, as it did with all mortal creatures. The loss of Icarus, who you had come to think of as more of a friend and confidant than a pet, had devastated you. Coupled with your newfound mating bond and role in the Night Court, you decided you would endeavor to keep animals at a distance, not allowing anyone to stick around too long, lest it endear itself to you once more.

You kept that promise to yourself for a long time, finding that your bond with Cassian helped to fill the void of loneliness that crept up when you lost your companions. Sure, you had a fondness for the creatures you spoke to regularly but avoided forming a deep connection as you had with Selene and Icarus. Then, less than a year since the period of peace had begun, on a chilly autumn day in Velaris, you felt it again. The tug was not uncommon, as the animals that knew you could reach out over that indescribable bridge to grab your attention when they needed it. This feeling, however, was strong and tinged with desperation, reminiscent of a cold winter night all those years ago when you found Selene.

You found her huddled in an alleyway, among some discarded crates and trash. Grey and white with familiar blue eyes, except this time, in the form of a tiny, malnourished kitten. She was weak and flea-bitten, and when she stood to crawl to you, she swayed on her feet. You were whisking her to your apartment in an instant, her cry for help piercing your core. The first night, you weren’t sure she would make it. She was dehydrated and skinny, her gums pale and skin cold to the touch. You spent the evening next to the hearth, picking fleas out of her downy fur and coaxing her to drink milk. Your plans of avoiding attachment went out the window in an instant as you whispered words of comfort throughout the arduous night, willing the little feline to fight.

And fight she did. Over the next two weeks, the kitten became your constant shadow as she put on weight and built-up strength. The line of communication between the two of you was unusually well developed, and at times, when she whispered her whims into your mind, you could swear it felt like Selene was at your side. When Cassian came home from the camps, you were giddy with excitement. You couldn’t wait to introduce your mate to your new friend, who had taken up residence at the foot of your shared bed. In the weeks since you found her, you had resisted the urge to give her a name, intent on having Cassian involved in the decision. After all, she would be living in his home for the foreseeable future.

When Cassian returned, you all but dragged him to your apartment, babbling excitedly about the creature you had quickly come to adore. Cassian was grinning from ear to ear, your own elation reflected on his face. He had seen the way your previous losses had affected you, especially after the bond snapped. He felt the twinge of longing when you watched birds soaring over the streets of Velaris. He felt the ache when you heard wolves howl while visiting the cabin. He knew, perhaps more than you did, how much you missed the unique friendship you formed with some animals. When you told him of your new discovery, his heart soared. Throughout the week, he had received bits of your joy down the bond, little pulses of sunlight that made his time away from you slightly more bearable. It was only when you dragged him into the house, fingers interlaced with his, that his smile momentarily faltered.

A kitten. Your new pet was a cat.

The General was quick to conceal his alarm, his smile returning as you looked back at him, cuddling the fuzzy creature to your chest. It wasn’t that he didn’t find her adorable, quite the contrary, in fact. The picture of you grinning in the afternoon sunlight and cooing softly made his chest constrict in a way he would never admit to his brothers. His apprehension, rather, came from his previous experience with cats.

In Illyria, Rhys’s mother’s cabin developed a rat problem one spring and the solution was a big, white mouser borrowed from a local farm. The cat had stayed with them for three weeks and in that time, Cassian quickly learned he was very, very allergic to cats. Still unendingly grateful for the grace Rhys’s mother had shown him, Cassian didn’t say anything about the constant itch of his skin or his watering eyes. It wasn’t until he woke up one morning with his eyes nearly swollen shut that the truth came out and the cat was returned to its post at the farm.

He thought about telling you for a brief moment, but the look on your face stalled him. You were selfless, so very selfless, and he knew if he told you that you would find the kitten a new home for his sake. Simply picturing your smile fall at the news had him resolving not to tell you. You would be devastated, and he would itch and sneeze and sniffle for an eternity before he would cause you pain.

So, he ignored the tickle in his throat when you thrust the little fuzzball into his arms. The two of you decided on the name Celeste, a tribute to the court you now called home, and it wasn’t long before Cassian’s affection for the animal matched your own. For the first three weeks, he was able to hide his symptoms from you. At night, when you readied yourself for bed in the bathing room, he would quickly swap out his pillowcase for a one not covered in cat hair before shooing Celeste into the hallway, lest she get too close to his face in the night. During the day, he spent as much time as possible out of the house, making excuses to bring you with him to places unsuitable for a kitten. When Rhys and Azriel learned of your new pet, he’d practically screamed at Rhys in his mind to keep him from saying anything. The two shared a knowing smirk but dutifully kept his secret.

For nearly a month, Cassian kept his allergies a secret, blaming cold weather or dust when you did catch him in a sneezing fit. It wasn’t until he woke up one morning with Celeste sleeping on his chest that the truth came to light.

“Cassian!” He startled awake, sensing your alarm through the bond before you even spoke his name. His movement was quick enough to send the cat scrambling off of him as he jumped to his feet, his hand on the dagger he kept under the mattress in an instant.

“What’s wrong?” When he was sure there was no immediate threat in the room, he took to examining you for injuries.

“Your face!” The response puzzled him, his sleep-addled mind still reeling from the rude awakening. Were you calling him ugly? “Your eyes! They’re swollen. Are you sick? Do you feel okay?”

It was only then that Cassian realized just how itchy he was. The skin on his chest and face was splotchy, red welts broken out where the Celeste had slumbered. His eyes were indeed swollen and itchy beyond belief. It was worse than visiting the Spring Court, Tamlin and all. Still, he thought of the alternative, of the guilt and grief the truth would cause you and he scrambled to come up with an explanation.

“I—uh, it’s probably just the pollen.” He stammered.

“It’s nearly winter, Cas.” You raised an eyebrow incredulously, the concern not leaving your features. Cassian rubbed the back of his neck nervously and you leaned forward, taking one hand in yours. “You’re not telling me something.”

It wasn’t quite an accusation, but keeping something from you, even for your own benefit, didn’t sit right with Cassian. He sighed, his gaze fixing on where your hands connected and spoke. “I didn’t want to tell you, and it’s really not that bad but I’m sort of… a little bit… allergic to cats.”

Your eyes went wide at the realization, and you quickly snatched up Celeste who had since returned to her spot on the bed, gently depositing her outside the door before returning to your mate. “Why didn’t you tell me?!”

“I saw how happy she makes you; I didn’t want you to feel like you couldn’t keep her.” You opened your mouth to rebuttal, your eyes slightly glassy, and Cassian’s heart sunk to his stomach. “But it’s really not that bad, sweetheart. She can stay. I want her to stay.”

“Cas, it is bad. You’re miserable and I’ve been completely oblivious.” The look on your face when you spoke broke Cassian’s heart and he silently cursed himself for his inability to lie to you.

“Please, sweetheart. I don’t want you to send her away. I will be itchy for the rest of my life if it means you’re happy.” His tone was pleading, and you could have laughed were it not for you’re the pit in your stomach. He should have been asking you to find a new home for the kitten, but your generous, stubborn mate was instead advocating for the source of his discomfort to remain if only to make you happy.

You went back and forth on the matter as you flitted about the bedroom, pressing a cold compress to Cassian’s face while you removed everything Celeste had touched, hoping to ease his symptoms. By the time Cassian had to leave for a meeting, his eyes were nearly back to normal and his skin was significantly less red, but you didn’t miss how he scratched at it when he thought you weren’t looking. When he left, he pressed a kiss on your forehead and said again, “It’s okay, sweetheart. I like her too. We should keep her.”

Despite Cassian’s insistence, you spent the day contemplating how you would find your beloved pet a new home. Despite the grief you felt at being separated from her, it wasn’t reasonable to expect your mate to tolerate his allergies for the next twenty years, even if he would gladly do so for you. You waited until he was gone to cry, allowing yourself a few moments of private grief before you set off to begin asking some friends if they would be interested in a new pet.

When you returned home at the end of the day, you did so with a heavy heart. A friend of a friend who owned a book shop on the Rainbow had recently lost her cat and was more than willing to take in Celeste. Tomorrow, you would pack up her things and bring her there. You thought about how you would tell the kitten the whole walk home. How would you explain that you were bringing her somewhere else to live? How would she feel about living with someone who couldn’t understand her the way you could? Would she feel abandoned? Rejected? By the time you stepped in the door, the tears had returned. You picked her up when she greeted you, stroking her silken fur while you blubbered. It wasn’t until he had crossed the room and placed his hands on your shoulders that you registered Cassian’s presence.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” He looked alarmed as he asked, a calloused hand coming up to wipe away your tears. You thought about lying to spare his guilt, but in the moment, you could conjure no excuse.

“I’m just a little sad,” you croaked. “I shouldn’t be. I found someone to take her. It’s a great home.”

To your surprise, Cassian smiled, an excited gleam in his hazel eyes. “Tell them you’re keeping her.” You opened your mouth the argue but Cassian continued, “I talked to Madja. She got me a potion to treat the allergies. I already tested it out and it works! She can stay!”

Your heart pounded, hope blooming in your chest as your mate smiled down at you. “Here, watch this.” Before you could protest, Cassian was hauling Celeste out of your arms and rubbing the bewildered feline on his face. You couldn’t help but laugh at the sight and soon Cassian was joining you. True to his word, his eyes did not swell at the contact and no red splotches appeared on his skin. He kept Celeste settled in the crook of his arm, his soft smile turning into a grin when she purred affectionately. “Madja said that over time, I might not even need the potion.”

Your heart could have burst at the tender moment. To think that your mate was willing to hide his misery just to make you happy, then sought out a solution to alleviate your guilt, was enough to bring tears to your eyes. “It really works?” you asked, and he nodded enthusiastically, bowing his head to smile down at his new pet. “You’ll tell me if it stops working, right?”

“I will.” He glanced up, catching sight of the tears in your eyes, and his eyebrow furrowed. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

You let out a choked laugh, stepping forward to wrap your arms around your mate. “Nothing’s wrong,” Cassian’s free arm wrapped around your waist, and you added, “everything is perfect, actually. I just… I can’t believe you went through all that trouble just to make me happy…”

His wings came around you then, wrapping you and Celeste in a warm embrace and he smiled, his eyes filling with sincerity. “Of course,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead and continued, “I’d do anything for you, sweetheart.”

⊱ —————— ❈ —————— ⊰

Likes, reblogs, comments, and feedback are greatly appreciated. Please let me know if you would like to be added to or removed from my tag list for future fics. Click here to check out my other work.

#Cassian x Reader #Cassian x You #Cassian Fanfic #Cassian Fanfiction #Cassian #Cassian ACOTAR #ACOTAR Cassian #Cassian Imagine #ACOTAR x Reader #ACOTAR x You #ACOTAR Fanfic #ACOTAR Fanfiction #ACOTAR #ACOTAR Imagine #my stuff #ff

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artanddaddyissues · 2 years

Note

*cough*Are you sure that’s me stalking and not my doppelgänge?? / jk

Am doing great, besides the fact i am only going to be here until 3rd of April. WHY AM I IN MY ARCANA PHASE AGAIN AT SUCH A LATE TIME HHH.

Also, I might request some angst headcanons. Maybe someone being dead? Idk shha

Okay 1. ITS OKAY I joined late too, welcome to the club sis 💕

And 2. You. Are. Evil. But I will definitely do some angst for you. I secretly hope you CRY when you read this angst.

What the M6 do, when you die

Heads up: gender neutral pronouns for reader, M/C is yellow, very angsty, read at your own risk, mentions of mental health issues (anxiety, depression, etc…)

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

"not... again..."

absolutely distraught, can no longer sleep, eat, think for himself, walk, breathe... etc.

Half his heart has gone, for good. Many times he contemplates sacrificing himself or other people in exchange for you to come back.

"I can bring them back again, right?"

shop closes for an extended amount of time, the baker starts to worry about him, the others regularly check in on him. He spends most of his days in his gate and the realms in hopes to contact you.

It takes him almost a year to leave the shop and care for himself again.

He curses everything and becomes pretty hostile for a while. Trust issues, anger, depression, everything sky rockets in the worst ways possible, and you aren't there to bring him back to his old self.

Asra needed you all the time. He missed your laugh, your touch, your aura. Living life without your presence made him feel like there was no point to living.

forgets how to function, in the worst way possible.

"Julian, when was the last time you ate?" "I can't remember...”

Walking disaster. He gets drunk more often, there isn’t a moment when he’s sober.

Asra checks in on him at least once a week since he knows how bad Julian can get.

He closes his clinic and tries to stay hidden from the others. He pushes everyone away, in fear of losing someone else.

This isn’t the first time he’s lost someone but, this one hurts the most.

You were the air he breathed. He missed giving you dramatic, romantic speeches and other little things.

He tries to tell Asra to teach him magic, in hopes of contacting you again through the magical realms, “maybe the fools realm.” “The realms are dangerous without-“ “I’ll take any risk to see them again.”

He looks at the collection of love letters, paintings, drawings, photos, anything to keep your face engraved into his mind.

Vesuviua mourns with her. Nadia has been such an incredible leader and so the city mourns when she loses you. I’m a way, the city lost you too, you did a great deal of good for the people of Vesuviua.

“I’ll find you in another lifetime, my dear.”

Like Asra, she knows how the magical realms work. Instead of sleeping each night, she travels to the realms to try and find you. She swears, she's getting close.

Everyone around her is understanding. the entire city saw how incredibly happy you both were together.

She is back to being alone again. Truly alone. Yes she has the others but you... you were there for her every moment of every day. Every breath she took, you were beside her. She had almost forgotten what is was like to be alone, thanks to you.

She dreads waking up and is always in a bad mood after another unsuccessful night of trying to find you.

Has a memorial statue of you in the gardens, facing her private balcony and she cries every time she looks at it.

"I need you back..."

Sobbing for weeks, never leaving his wing, punching holes through his walls, not taking care of himself...

He’s not angry after a few months but sad. He was very angry in the beginning, when he felt like he could have done something, but you can only convince yourself you’re useful so many times.

6 months after your passing, he treks to your home town to hold a proper burial for you.

The people around him in Vesuvia find it hard to see him like this. He could be a threat to anybody but they understand how much you affected him, so they all offer as much support as they can.

You taught him how to be a better person and without you reassuring him each day, he can only hold onto your words and do things he thought was right

he tried his hardest to stay strong in public but it was hard. He wanted to look strong always but the first few weeks were rough.

"Me and Pepi miss you... so much."

She buries you around her cottage, in a secluded corner. She watches every day, the tree you were buried under, grow and prosper. Little white and yellow flowers bloom in the spring and last the whole year.

Nadia gives her as much time off as she needs.

Now, Pfeels completely useless without you though.

The little things hurt the most. Waking up to you changing Pepi's litter, cooking only for one person again, not having any help in the garden, seeing all your clothes in the closet...

"It's okay Pepi..."

Julian visits almost every night for the first few months. He always comes ready to tend to Portia and make her feel as well as she can feel.

"This isn't happening"

he spirals into a long, very angry stage of denial. He can't accept the fact that you're gone when it feels like he just got you.

He makes a vow to himself, to never get attached to another person again in fear of losing them.

he blames himself all the time. "Muriel stop..." "I could have done something.

He can never go back to the person he used to be, because you changed him for the better but now you aren't around to see him anymore. And that kills him inside

Asra is over almost every night.

Inanna has had to pull Muriel out of bed for weeks on end.

He knows you would want him to continue living but its too hard without you there.

He and Asra venture through the realms to try and find you. Muriel is determined.

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segnisacfessis · 25 days

Text

HEADCANON ; Chidori's awakened Persona - PERSEPHONE

RELOAD VERSE ; Chidori awakens with no memory of really who she is or her history. Only vague blurry outlines from dreams she had while in the dance between life and death remain of who she used to be.

However that all changes as soon as MARCH 6TH rolls by. A sweet voice calls to her in her sleep, drawing forth a series of memories. The once foggy and distant man who had been in her dreams every night since she'd awakened became very clear. "Junpei...how could I ever forget you..." she cried out as hot tears poured down her cheeks. As soon as these intense emotions swelled inside of her there was something lurking beneath the surface.

She wouldn't fully awaken to it until five years later when traveling with Junpei to check on some small town named Inaba.

S.E.E.S. VERSE ; Instead of dying on that fateful night she felt Medea leave her side as she healed Junpei, she knew in her heart that Medea had sacrificed herself to help her resurrect her fallen lover, thus part of her was woven into Junpei allowing him to awaken to his own stronger form. Instead of being completely powerless she felt another calling to her, Persephone! The feat of resurrecting Junpei however still left her feeling quite weak and she had to go back to the hospital.

The doctor showed her that he'd kept the flowers that Junpei had given her and as she reached out and took them she could feel the energy pouring life back into her and strengthening her more than ever before. That's when Persephone awoke within her heart.

DESCRIPTION & SKILL SET ; Persephone is a maiden with vines all around her body and roses sprouting all over, with her hair made of fire. Her skill set consists of boosting attack/defense/accuracy/evasion, fire skills, and substantial healing. All of her physical attacks are gone in the wake of her treasuring this new life she's been granted by the fates that be.

#━✿this is the story of a girl; headcanon #I've been meaning to type this up for a while now

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princepestilence · 4 months

Text

New Year's Resolutions 2024.

We're going for simple but profound life improvements this year.

I don't really feel like resolutions is entirely the right word -- it feels like giving yourself an ultimatum, which isn't how I see this purpose, or the tone, of my practice. They're more an acknowledgement of aspirations, a voicing of intentions to help clarify the path I want to take that year.

In 2024, I am making choices to bring more joy, more art, more rest and relief, and more connection with people I love into my life.

write to mum every day. For mum's early Christmas present, I gave her a day planner with a beautiful cover (Van Gogh, one of her favourites), but she never got to use it. I've taken to the idea of writing to her every day, since the thought I've been having most frequently this month, about little inconsequential things, is "I wish I could tell mum about this." .

make a memory book. More of a scrapbook than a typical photo album. I want to make a memory book of my mum, all the things I don't want to forget about her, and all the things I want to celebrate and reminsce fondly about. I've kept so many little bits and pieces over the years, like ticket stubs and cards, which I now feel was subconsciously for this exact purpose. .

take care of myself. In many ways, 2023 was a good year for this goal, but 2024 can absolutely be better. I intend to sleep well, eat well, exercise, do things that are enjoyable as often as possible, and say no + use my time for myself. I see it as infinitely more precious at the moment, and I'm not happy any longer to give it away to just anyone who wants for free labour. .

dress for fun. Another continuation of 2023, but also another that can be improved. I can for sure get weirder with it. .

make art. This is one I am so looking forward to. I've really missed it, and in some ways regret that I've prioritised nearly every other thing over this one. But not anymore. I'm excited to draw again, and do craft, and write when the mood strikes. .

read for pleasure. Another one that fell to the wayside again and again in my pursuit of productivity and trying to finish my thesis, and work, and volunteer, and be social, and keep on top of life admin. .

play games. Ditto above! I get too much fun from playing games not to do it more often. .

run (and play in?) tabletop games. In some ways, this folds in under both 'make art' and 'play games' but I feel it combines the two enough as a distinct third option to count for another goal. I particularly want to run Dread again, and try out some other kinds of tabletop / board games too. .

go on outings more often. I have a year pass to the aquarium that I want to start using ASAP, and I want to visit the botanic gardens more often. It's a beautiful place and really nice to walk around, so will be an ideal place to get a little more exercise into my life as well. Likewise, I'm looking forward to going to see theatre further afield, and visit more galleries and museums. .

decorate home / start renovations. We've decided it's about time to start seriously making some changes to our home, which is exciting but also a bit anxiety-inducing. We're fairly confident the first port of call will be installing aircon, followed by kitchen renovations and electrical work throughout the house. That's going to make such a huge difference to the QOL (quality of lighting) and the functionality of the kitchen / living space and desk areas. .

connect more with friends + family. I've sacrificed a lot of time with family and friends to keep afloat with work and my dissertation etc., and while I know that was a sensible decision, it's not a situation I want to keep living in. I would rather achieve less and spend more time with the people that are important to me. .

submit thesis. It feels a bit silly to put this here when it's so close to done at this point already, but it's still worth acknowledging -- and also celebrating. It's hard that my mum won't be here to see me graduate, or read what I've spent all this time working on, but I know she wouldn't want that to detract from the experience for me so I'm trying to walk the fine line of pride / satisfaction and grief as I travel down this final stretch. .

manage workload better. Work is usually fine, but the busy periods really slam me and I have to really struggle to keep afloat in that environment. I've assessed the problems and have started to put things in place so I'm not being overloaded, and I think that + some recent talks I've had with my manager will make a big difference in how that all happens this year coming.

#2024 resolutions

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2dboisloyal-devotee · 1 year

Text

I'm feeling particularly motivated to post about my best comfort character, so here goes nothing for the little to no fandom haha..

i haven't play through the Country of Clover so it's a bit less than the Heart, sorry.

>)~ Imagines/Headcanons

Nightmare Gottschalk x Overworking GN Reader

Warning: spoilers hinted, minor blood coughing, a sprinkle of gaslight around the end of Heart Country, clingy behavior & unintentional guilt-tripping in the Clover Country part

In the Country of...

~❤️~

> Because of his limitless mindreader and all seeing abilities, of course he knows it right away even without them. From your great effort alone, it's clear that you need a break for a while.

> Despite his abilities, he can only meet you through dreams and that's a problem in itself since your sleep time will be sacrificed.

> He's at a loss. He never feels like that before except when it comes to you. That makes him all the more glad as he tries his best thinking about what he should do.

> In the meantime, he sends you few quick sweet dreams without involving his appearance.

> The important reason(s) you're pushing yourself to this point... he can't help but to take action soon.

You wake up in the same hazy colored dream space...

“Are you going to tire yourself further?” A familiar voice speaks from above you.

When you look up, there are many cluttered objects floating beside him—not just any objects but they're what you've been using to do your tasks!

Nightmare chuckles. “They're a mess, aren't they?”

Soon you begin to float slowly and at the same level as him. By seeing them more up close, they're even more overwhelming to look at.

“Can you pass through them?” You look at him as if he says something impossible. Smiling, he floats closer to the objects. “Correct. There's nothing wrong with that. They may seem stuck together as a big group, but they're separable and easier to handle that way.”

> In turn, you touch an object from the closest per his guidance with the changing scenery like before.

He touches one of them and the scenery suddenly change in a blink. Your appearance have return to your work outfit, matching with him.

> You play along as the scenery switches back to normal after his work demonstration (which mostly comprised of his whines and complaints).

> The both of you take turns in working on your task.

> Even though you end up taking the most work when he's already at his limit and coughing blood.

> By the time you wake up, there's a stuffed animal placed near you with a message 'It will keep you company in my place', which you know right away who's the sender.

> Your tasks also have been reduced to a small amount, it's leaving you wondering if that was merely a dream.

> It is only a dream. A voice in your mind reminds you.

~☘️~

> Because he's closer to you in terms of distance, he's more overbearing—clinging onto you to be lured somewhere he thinks is a nice place to spend time together with a hopeful puppy eyes.

> With him being able to be with you in the world outside of dreams, it's an easy feat for him to draw your attention from thinking about or especially doing work.

> It'll be a shame to miss that road performance, won't it? This might be the only chance you could see it. Oh, or do you want to look around in that toy shop? It would also be good to enjoy the sunset view on the park after all of that, sitting down on a bench or under a breezy tree with him laying on your lap.

> You're in for a wholesome and relaxing travel (not counting the moment when he complains about being tired from walking or just coughing blood in general).

> And if it's time to go back, he would escort you home after chatting cryptically on the way and he sends you a gentle forehead goodbye kiss.

> If you live in the tower though, your time together will just continue in a different place as he's like a child who just lose his parents if you leave him especially after a scolding from you.

> He insist not to work and instead prefer to spend time with you cuddling.

> “The tasks won't go anywhere, we can leave them to Gray and others.”

> He won't argue with you but will look dejected like he just got abandoned in a wet cardboard box.

> He tells you the importance of breaks (coming from him as the best slacker) in a proud tone.

#hnkna #heart no kuni no alice #hnkna imagines #narawritechances #clover no kuni no alice #alice in the country of hearts #nightmare gottschalk x reader #making a new tag section for easier searching

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cloudninetonine · 2 years

Note

I’ve come to a conclusion based on tumblr posts alone… nobody knows the heights.

Sometimes Wild is taller than Hyrule, sometimes Hyrule is shorter than Legend, sometimes Legend is taller than both, hell sometimes Warriors or Twilight is taller than Time! They don’t even have anything to do with the three confusing amigos over there! And after all of this, now I realize why I’ve been so confused all this time.

What I said about their heights was based on a few panels from the comic where Hyrule and Wild are next to each other and the same height, while Legend being shorter came from seeing him be smaller than Wild. But honestly at this point I don’t know anymore, genuinely distressed right now.

Send help to my poor sleep deprived mind that can only hyper-fixate on something stupid because I want to draw art that isn’t inconsistent.

Btw, while on height, apparently women’s average height is actually 5’4 (162.56 cm) and men’s are still 5’8 (172.72 cm) but are like super close to 5’9 (175’26), well, at least in America?? It won’t give me worldwide for whatever reason.

Idk, felt if I didn’t correct myself on these two fronts I would be sacrificed to the skrunkles and blorbos.

I’m so tired, I need to stop going on height tangents that don’t matter and actually, like, sleep or something.

NO BECAUSE THE THOUGHTS ABOUT HEIGHTS IS JUST SO UGHHHHHHH

I've approached it as this- Jojo has mentioned that Hero's Shade (Time's spirit) is massive. Now, I see it that he's a spirit so he can manipulate himself to be bigger or something like that so while I do this time is tall not like too tall I'd say around 6'0-6'2 ft (183-188cm)

Then from there, I used a height converter and guessed the other's heights from which point one of the boys meet on Time's body and since then I've been using that. What I got was like

Twilight - 5'11 (180cm) Wars - 5'10 (178cm) Sky - 5'9 (175cm) Wild - 5'7 (170cm) Hyrule - 5'6-5'7 (Because they're around the same height) (168-170cm) Legend - 5'5 (165cm) Wind - 5'3 (160cm) Four - 4'11 (150cm)

So, about average, a little taller, a little shorter probably not everyone's preferred height but you know.

#cloud answers #bloodybloob #BB

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kitkatt0430 · 1 year

Text

So I've decided to go ahead with watching the latest episode of the Flash. Spoilers below.

Blaine is such a fucking idiot. Wow. Like, that's how he's gonna break Caitlin's dead to the team? And has he considered, even once, that the version of Frost he brings back might not be the one he knew? Frost didn't meet him until after she split from Caitlin. The remnants of Frost in Caitlin - if there are any - may not have the first damn idea who Mark is. But what she will know? Is he killed her sister, that she sacrificed her life to save, in order to bring Frost back.

Oh wow, what a complete and utter moron, I hate Blaine so damn much.

Where's Hartley, I'm tired of the Snow plotline already.

Oh, there he is. Flirting with his boyfriend and they're adorable. Oooh, do Hartley and Roderick own this club? The flirting made it sound like they do. Or at least Hartley does. He and Roderick being adorable together is so great. This is everything I've wanted for those two since Roderick stopped being Sleeping Beauty in S6. (Gosh has it been that long?)

Pied Piper vs. the Fiddler - I do like the way their sound tech interacts and the fight, though short, is fun.

(No seriously can someone just stab Mark Blaine a few times. Whoops, he's dead, how terrible, let's forget about him immediately? Like, is he just being particularly awful in this episode or has what little tolerance I have for him eroded entirely after skipping most of S8?)

Anyway, Snow does not seem thrilled about Mark's plan. She's probably afraid to die and is too 'new' to life to be able to admit it. And I have to wonder if really she's just Caitlin with amnesia and Frost's powers?

Anyway, seriously, just fuck Blaine.

Thank goodness Hartley still knows where all the stuff in Caitlin's lab is. Or at least has a general idea, anyway. Though I'd like to think sometimes he just hung out with Caitlin for old times sake.

Oh no. Barry please do not make excuses for Blaine. I'm so tired of this guy. Though Barry being all cryptic on 'we have to go' is hilarious.

Chester - TECHNOBABLE

Iris follows that so much better than I did. She's so smart and awesome and let me just fangirl over her a bit.

Hartley muttering at, and cussing out, his gloves as he tries to repair them. Most relatable moment on this episode so far.

Snow certainly has Caitlin's desire to help people, worrying about Hartley clearly being hurt. And she realizes how worried about Roderick Hartley is. Listening to him worry about Roderick. Awww

But Snow makes a good point. Change is something you have to choose for yourself. Trying to force a change for someone else isn't going to work. *staring right at Blaine* But Hartley has already changed - while having Roderick back in his life may have made choosing to change easier, Hartley made that choice before Roderick was saved and thought there was no way to save Roderick. He made that choice when he went to save Barry from Godspeed. Everything after was just follow through.

Everyone fighting over who Snow should die to resurrect. Do any of them even hear themselves? How awful and, quite frankly, like bad guys they sound? She's her own person now and she deserves to live, even if the way she came into the world was awful.

>_<

Okay, so Iris' reasons for choosing Frost are kinda dumb. *sigh*

Snow loves nature. (Sky High anyone???) Snow is very sweet, but I do think they're spending too much time drawing out this plot line. That said I'm so glad that Cecile at least actually takes the time to ask Snow what she wants.

All this retconning with Thomas Snow. Seriously, none of that fits in the established Caitlin&Frost timeline. How much did the multiverse reboot change Caitlin and Frost's origins? But whatever, at least they finally decided it should be Snow's choice.

(No, really, what would make more sense is if Thomas had considered using a CRC type machine to get rid of Icicle but ultimately was too afraid Icicle would use it to kill him instead. Then that could have been a development that happened later when he locked himself away to try and find a 'cure' to Icicle. And a brain scan from Caitlin's childhood? What did they want to do, restore Caitlin to a twelve year old's mentality? Brains change over time. Oh wow, so much was not thought through in this retconning.)

Oh no! Roderick! Hartley, seriously, learn to ask for help when you need it? Lucky him, Barry came anyway and showed him what he needed to do to save Roderick.

Hartley - You figure it out, I'm busy. *grinning at Roderick because awwwwwww look he's so in love*

Snow picking the name Khione - I'm so glad she got to pick her own name.

That said, seriously. Who is gonna tell Cisco about all this? He's gonna be so pissed off.

Hartley destroying the CRC. Yes, finally, someone with some sense around here. Well, if we can't have Cisco and Caitlin friendship this season, I'm liking the Hartley and Khione friendship. Blaine threatening Hartley... is it bad I'm hoping something comes of that so Hartley can kick Mark Blaine's butt? Since clearly Hartley's the only one with any sense whatsoever.

Let's hope Hartley sticks around for more episodes. *finger crossed*

Iris, yes, make fun of Barry's dancing more please. Someone stop him. And Chester. Please. This is the kind of dancing Angel was terrified of dancing like on AtS.

Oooh, looks like Hartley will be in the next episode too. (checked out the trailer for ep 3) Guess I'll be checking in for that one too.

So it does seem like no one is properly upset or grieving over Caitlin or really mourning her which... is disappointing. Barry at least feels guilty over their last interaction but Blaine's just like 'let's kill her extra dead for Frost's sake'. Ah yes, what a wonderful person he was for Frost to date.

All the 'this is what Caitlin would want' going on just sounds like them handwaving over the fact that Caitlin was grieving and depressed, never got the help she needed for the multiple traumas and deaths of loved ones she endured, and she was not in any way, shape, or form thinking clearly when she tried to resurrect Frost. Her death was a terrible and preventable tragedy and it's like no one wants to look too hard or else they'll have to accept their culpability in failing one of their friends. But sacrificing Khione to resurrect Caitlin or Frost would have just been repeating Caitlin's mistakes so... it took them way too long to come to an answer that should have been obvious as the only ethical choice from the start.

Anyway, I want more Hartley and Roderick being cute together because they're now the cutest couple on the show. Sorry Barry and Iris, but you've been usurped by the cute and flirty duo. But then Barry and Iris were only the cutest couple on the show 'cause Cisco and Kamilla left, so... *shrug* (Grant and Candice do what they can with the show's writing, but 'babymoon'? They're not spinning that as romantic, there's just no way. But at least they're acknowledging that Iris should be pregnant sometime relatively soonish.)

(I did actually go back and watch Ep1 before this. And, um... it had some good parts. But I also skipped around a lot 'cause I got bored. It was not the best time loop episode i've ever seen. It was middling of the road as far as episodes went and reminded me more of the reasons why it took me so long to start shipping Barry/Iris on the show in the first place. Namely, did Iris ever actually choose Barry? Or did she, after Eddie died, let herself get pushed into a relationship that she didn't necessarily want because everyone was pushing Barry as her destiny? Not that she didn't clearly find happiness with Barry, but... well, this is one of the reasons why i say canon does them dirty. Barry/Iris has been hit and miss as a result and it's not a good sign that the final season started off with something that felt more like a miss than a hit.)

#kitkatt0430 watches #the flash #season 9 episode two #hear no evil #season 9 spoilers #so does it seem like blaine is being set up to be a villain later in the season?#'cause i've got that impression now #and i want hartley to kick his butt #once again team flash struggles to do the ethical thing because protagonist centered morality means they must always be right

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