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flowerxbunnie · 3 months

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hiiii i really love ur smuts and i have a suggestion that i’d DIEE if you’d consider.

Okay so it’s a matt one and y/n and matt are in a relationship like IN LOVEEE. and they have seggs for the first time and he’s really sweet and romantic. like dominant but in a sweet way. no degrading just comforting and sweet. also mention how BIG he is and how she’s like strugglinggg but he’s so sweet to herrr. TYSM LUV YA💋💋

Unexplored

Matt x Fem Reader

Warnings: SMUT. virgin!reader, experienced matt, oral (f&m receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (assume you’re on the pill)

DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE NOT OKAY WITH SMUT OR ARE A MINOR!

6.1k words

The car door closes gently behind you, a warm palm caressing the small of your back as you walk towards Matt’s apartment. He guides you up the steps and to the front door, grabbing his keys off of his carabiner to fiddle with the lock. He gets the door open and extends his arm out, letting you enter first just like he always does.

The smell of sandalwood floods your nose, a scent you’ve associated with the warmth of his space. Every Saturday he takes you on a different date he meticulously plans before both of you come back to his apartment, doing puzzles or watching movies or rotting your brains on TikTok together for hours.

You take your heels off and place them on the shoe rack next to the door, giggling as you shrink about four inches in height next to Matt.

“What’s wrong, short stack?” He chuckles as he teases you, his hands gripping onto your waist and pulling you close.

“Not a thing.” You look up at him as he peers down at you, his brunette hair falling over his forehead messily. You reach up and gently brush the strands back out of his face, watching as his eyes flutter shut before locking onto yours again.

“You’re beautiful, have I told you that before?” He asks in a hushed tone.

“A couple times, I think.” You reply with flushed cheeks, throwing your arms lazily around his neck.

His grip on your waist tightens as he lets his eyes drift their gaze down to your lips. They wander down your neck, collarbones, down your chest, and all the way to the floor before traveling back up. He can’t help but drink in the sight of you. You interlock your fingers around him as you stand up on your tiptoes.

You place a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth, his prickly stubble brushing against your lips. You move to the other side, placing another small kiss to the other corner, but this time he turns his head, his soft lips meeting your own. You kiss slowly, your lips melting together. You can taste the chocolate ice cream on his lips, something you always stop for after your dates.

Matt opens his mouth, allowing you to deepen the kiss and explore it with your tongue. You can feel your heart beating hard in your chest, and you hope more than anything that he can feel it too. You want him to know just how crazy you are about him. How much your body craves his touch.

Your stomach starts to tighten into knots just thinking about it. Matt has been incredibly patient with you your entire relationship. It’s been three months, but you haven’t allowed yourself to give in just yet. He’s never made you feel like a burden or like you have to do anything, he’s never once pressured you or tried to talk you into anything. You’ve never been able to get past this hurdle with anyone, as much as you’ve wanted to. You’ve let your own fears hold you back. But this time is different. You’re ready for more, ready to give yourself to him. You don’t know what exactly it is that changed, but your body burns with lust for Matt despite how nervous you may be.

You sink back down onto your heels and Matt leans down with you, refusing to break the kiss. His hands glide down the curves of your waist and move to settle on your ass, giving it a light squeeze. You let out a small whimper into his mouth and hear a sigh escape from his lips. You move your shaking hands to the nape of his neck, tangling your fingers into the curly hair at the base and give them a light tug, pulling him off gently.

“C-can we move this to the bed?” You croak out, the words feeling foreign.

“Yeah, um..” he blinks quickly and clears his throat. “Of course we can.”

His mind races with thoughts that he desperately tries to hold back. He wants nothing more than to make a mess of you, to touch you in the places nobody else has. There’s something about knowing he’ll be the first person to corrupt you that makes the hair on the back of his neck stand up and sends a rush of blood below his belt.

You give him a meek smile, trying your best to hide the crimson glow that’s made its way across your face. You grab onto his hand and follow behind him as you walk quietly to his room through the dark hallway. Your heart pulses loudly in your ears with each step you take. You both cross the threshold and his hand immediately reaches for the light switch, but you bring your own free hand over his to stop him.

“Can we leave it off? Maybe.. just turn on a lamp or something?” You ask quietly.

An eager look flashes across his face as he nods, letting go of your hand to go turn his table lamp on, illuminating the room with its subtle glow. He sits on the edge of his bed and you join him, fidgeting with your rings while trying to calm your nerves.

He turns sideways to face you, brushing your hair behind your ear and placing a gentle kiss to your cheekbone. “My pretty girl.” He whispers.

You turn your head towards him and smile as his fingertips caress your face. He looks into your eyes with a questioning look, almost asking without words if you’re sure about what you’re leading him into. You swallow thickly and grip onto the fabric of his shirt, pulling him close before you mesh your lips together again. He tilts his head as he kisses back, your tongues dancing with each other slowly. Your skin grows hot, every fiber of your being consumed with the thought of Matt taking you as his.

You turn your body to face him, your free hand reaching up to grip his jaw, feeling as the muscle clenches and moves as he works his mouth against your own. You feel the warmth of his hands meet your knees, sliding up your thighs and bringing a tantalizing electricity with them. They reach the hem of your dress and toy with it, sliding it up ever so slightly.

He pulls away from the kiss, whispering softly, “Is this okay?”

You nod lightly and he immediately pushes the fabric up your soft legs allowing them to part. He pulls you to straddle his lap, scooting back and positioning the both of you so that his back is against the headboard.

He has to hold back a groan as he looks up at you, your legs slung around both sides of his waist, lighting a primal fire deep inside of him. His jaw hangs slack as he squeezes the plush skin of your thighs, working his way up to your exposed panty line. He hooks his fingers into it and rubs his thumbs against the elastic. You run your nails up and down his arms and his body reacts to your touch, flooding his skin with goosebumps.

“Matt..” You breathe out, biting your lip as he directs his full attention to you. “I want to do this. I need to.”

A hitched breath escapes his lips as he nods eagerly, your doe eyes making his stomach do a flip. “And if you need to stop, I-”

You cut him off there, bringing a finger to his lips. “I know, Matt. I trust you.”

A cheesy grin flashes across his face, his eyes lighting up. It’s soon replaced with an urgency, an overwhelming need. He brushes your hair to your back and slides his fingers beneath the straps of your dress, pulling them down your shoulders slowly. His lips pepper the skin with warm, wet kisses, trailing across your collarbones to give the other shoulder just as much attention.

You lean your head back as your head swims, growing fuzzier by the second. Your mind is saturated with pleasure as his lips inch up your neck, teasing the sensitive skin with featherlight nips and licks. You can’t help but moan as he sucks a mark into the skin right below your ear.

“God, you sound so pretty.” He mumbles against your neck, “I knew you would.”

With every touch you allow him to give to your body he feels his own pulse quicken. His pants feel tighter, his skin suddenly feels hot, and all he wants to do is rip your clothes off. He bites back the temptations of rushing into things too quickly. He wants to make this last, to see every lust drunk look on your face as he shows you a pleasure you’ve never known.

He pulls back slowly and his eyes drift down to focus on what his hands are doing. He slips the neckline of your dress below your breasts and your chest is fully exposed to him, your nipples taut and aching in the chill of the air. His cock twitches at the sight of your plump round skin almost begging to be touched. He grabs ahold of each one with his hands, cupping and squeezing at them. He picks them up and lets them drop a few times, eyes locked as he watches them bounce inches from his face.

A split second later he leans forward and takes your left nipple into his mouth, his warm saliva sending shivers down your spine. You can’t help but to arch your back, this new feeling sending shockwaves through your body. You lace your hands into his hair, holding him against you as he softly sucks on your nipple. He pulls off with a pop and shoots you a smirk, moving to the other side to flick his tongue across it before placing a kiss to it.

“So perfect.” He mutters between kisses as he travels up the valley of your breasts back up to your neck.

You become suddenly aware of the bulge growing in his pants as his hips jolt up, rubbing against your clothed core deliciously. You take in a sharp breath before following suit, grinding your hips slowly along with him and creating a new friction between your bodies. He can’t help but move his hands to your waist, pressing you down and guiding you forward and back against his erection. You both share shaky exhales and moans as you continue like this, your bodies aching to be closer. Your core throbs and builds up an uncomfortable heat just desperate to be filled, and his dick is stiff to the point of discomfort wanting to feel the warmth of your body.

You push yourself from the hold you had on his chest for stability, leaning back to fumble with the buckle of his belt. His hands come to rest atop your own, stopping you in your tracks and shaking his head.

“Not yet baby, I can wait. Wanna make you feel good first.” He whispers with a grin. “Come lay down up here.”

You gulp and do as you’re told, hopping off his lap to replace his spot against the headboard. He grabs your dress and shimmies it down your body, lifting your legs to pull it all the way off and discard it beside the bed. You’re left lying below him, exposed all except your panties. His eyes rake over every inch of your body, and you can’t help but feel self conscious. He takes note as he clocks your facial expression, and his hands immediately start sliding across your skin.

“I can’t believe how perfect you are.” He mumbles with a smile.

“You think so?” You ask, bringing your knees together subconsciously as a way of covering what little bit of dignity you have left.

“Fuck yes I do.” He answers, his hands coming to your knees to spread them back apart.

He lays down and props himself up on his elbows between your thighs, hot air fanning against your skin with every breath he takes. His eyes are dark with hooded lids, piercing into your own as he lowers his head.

He places a soft kiss to the fabric and then kitten licks your clothed pussy, the warmth causing your stomach to tense and your hands to grip onto the sheets. He brings one hand up to rub his fingers across your clit, and even with the layer of cloth separating you from his rough fingertips you feel waves of pleasure flooding through your veins.

He increases the pressure and starts rubbing in a rhythm, eyes locked with yours the entire time. You bite your lip as you move your hips along with him, desperate for more hypnotic friction.

“You let me know what feels good and what doesn’t, okay baby? Wanna make this good for you.” He assures you before he places a few soft kisses to the skin of your inner thighs.

You nod and sink down onto the pillow, allowing yourself to relax and melt into him. He starts slowly pulling your panties down your legs, scooting back a little so he can get them fully off. He lets out a sigh as he parts your thighs once more, spreading your core with his two hands and licking his lips. The primal flame grows, a fever creeping through his veins as he takes in the sight of your pink, dripping heat.

“Look at that,” he places a soft kiss to the mound of skin just above your clit, “so wet already.” He runs his thumb down your folds, collecting your arousal before bringing it to his mouth and sucking it clean. “Tastes so fucking good too.”

He dips his head down and licks a hot stripe up your center, his tongue flat and warm against you. You take in a shaky breath, your back arching off the bed and your thighs squeezing around his head. Matt lets out a deep hum as he holds your legs apart, lapping his tongue across your entrance. The vibration rumbles through your core perfectly, and your body feels so good you can’t help but squeeze at the own skin of your thighs, needing something to channel the overwhelming sensations into.

“M-matt.. it feels so.. oh my god.” You struggle with your words, your brain swimming as he sucks your tender bud lightly.

He feels a deep satisfaction knowing he’s the first to taste you, the first to make you feel so good that you can’t do anything but squirm and grasp at anything you can reach.

“I’m gonna put a finger in, okay baby?” He asks as he lifts up on his elbows. “It might feel weird at first but it shouldn’t hurt. You let me know though, got it?” He says in a serious tone.

You nod and lift your head up to get a better view as he rubs his middle finger up and down your folds, drenching it with your arousal. You see it glistening in the light before he slowly inserts it, his eyes flicking up to your own and back down to his job at hand continuously. The feeling of his slender finger slipping in and brushing against your plush walls makes your core throb, and he doesn’t stop until his knuckle is flush with your folds.

“Alright, it’s all the way in.” He speaks softly.

Slowly and carefully he pulls it all the way back out, a husky groan falling from his lips when he sees that his finger is drenched, covered in your body’s visible need.

“M-matt..” you whine, feeling suddenly empty.

“Hm?” He hums, slowly guiding his finger back into your heat.

Your hips buck involuntarily, the rough pad of his finger brushing a sensitive spot deep inside of you. He smirks and curls his finger into it again, a smug satisfaction creeping up as you clench your stomach and moan lightly.

“You’ve never been able to find that spot yourself, have you baby?” He asks, curling his fingers into the spongy mound over and over.

All you can do is shake your head, hips lifting off the bed as you squirm and pant. He shushes you quietly and brings his free hand to press into the skin of your hip, holding you down into the mattress right where he wants you. He begins pumping his finger in and out, the sensation causing you to whimper and squeeze your eyes shut.

“Shhh, I know. Let me take care of you.” He whispers, his face dipping down and his hot breath fanning over your stomach. “Gonna make you feel so good.”

His lips place a light, lingering kiss to your swollen bud, sending sparks through your abdomen as his finger prods at your walls. He places one more quick kiss to it before he wraps his lips around your clit, using his tongue to swirl around the sensitive flesh. His free hand roams around your body, squeezing at your hips, lightly tracing your ribcage and moving all the way down to knead at the skin of your thigh.

“That’s feels so…” You let out a long drawn out moan as he kitten licks your clit, “oh my god, Matt.”

He hums against you, his ego stroked knowing he’s making you crumble beneath him. He pulls back briefly, his voice strained and deep. “I know, angel. You’re doing so good.”

His praise causes your stomach to roll and a moan threatens to fall into the air, but you hold it back with a harsh bite of your bottom lip.

Matt knows his words have an effect on you. He can feel as the inner workings of your body clench and throb around him when he does something you like, and he needs more.

“Such a good girl,” he coos, looking up at you through his lashes as he adds another finger into your slit, “let’s get you nice and loosened up for me, okay? Let me know if it’s too much.”

You feel his ring finger slip in, stretching your skin and pushing up into your slick heat. He moves them simultaneously, coaxing your sensitive nerves as you writhe around, whimpering and circling your hips.

“O-oh.. Matt..” you breathe out shakily.

His dick twitches when you say his name like that. He brings his mouth back down to your clit, sucking and lapping at it faster than before. His fingers pump in and out in a steady rhythm, working at every angle to bring you closer to the edge.

Your stomach feels so tight it could burst and your brain is foggy, almost drunk off the pleasure. He doesn’t let up, he moans and groans against your core and nearly has his face buried into your pussy. You could almost count each individual strand of stubble as it scratches against your thighs, an addicting pain that you wish you never had to stop feeling.

“M-matt.. I think..” you whine out, lacing your fingers into his curls and tugging, the knot in your stomach threatening to snap.

“Mmm..” he pulls back. “I know, baby. I can tell.”

He dips back down, savoring your taste as he flicks his tongue across your aching clit. You feel the tension in your stomach building as you buck your hips up, but Matt doesn’t push your hip down this time. He follows you up, never letting his tongue leave your pink bud as he works against it.

You finally topple over the edge, your pussy contracting around his fingers tightly as your body floods with dopamine. You hold him against your core as he coaxes your orgasm out, grinding against his mouth and fingers until you’re spent.

He watches as you lie back, your chest heaving with every deep breath you take. A small grin plays at his lips as he watches, knowing it’s the first time a man has made you feel this way. He can’t help but get excited, palming his uncomfortable erection through his jeans while he watches you drink in your post orgasm bliss.

“Was it good?” He croaks, his thumb sweeping over his aching head through the fabric.

“Mmmm,” you hum, eyes shut and your arms sprawled out. Your legs are still open, your glistening pussy directly in his line of sight, still slightly twitching and throbbing, your arousal coating your folds. “So good.” Your voice is laced with pleasure.

He takes in a shaky breath, tightening his veiny hand around his length and bucking his hips into his palm. He can’t help the groan that falls from his lips and causes you to open your eyes, leaning your head up to look at him.

His jaw clenches as he makes eye contact with you, his hips squirming and his hand moving back and forth across his aching cock. “Have you ever sucked a dick before?” His words sound so filthy as they roll of his lustful tongue, but he’s asking out of genuine curiosity.

“I…” you start, a dark pink flush spreading across your already hot cheeks. “No… I haven’t.”

A quiet groan grumbles from his chest, his head falling back as he gives his dick one last squeeze through his pants. He moves his hand up, slowly pulling the end of the belt from his belt loops. “That’s okay, I’ll tell you how.”

You gulp and nod, sitting up to help him with the buckle. Your hand brushes against his hardened dick and it twitches, begging to be freed from the constraint of the layers holding it back. You finally get the belt undone, pulling it from the loops and tossing it aside. Your hands scramble to the button of his jeans, getting it open and the zipper down before pulling them down his thighs. He reaches up and pulls his shirt over his head, his muscles contracting with every move.

He lets out a sigh as you pull his pants completely off, his dick stretching the fabric of his boxers to its limit. There’s a small wet stain where his head lays, his swollen tip oozing precum.

His hand reaches out and grabs yours, sitting it down on top of his still covered length. He presses your hand down and takes in a small gasp of air, jutting his hips up from the sensation. You flutter your eyelashes and look up at him as you wrap your small hand around him, feeling his warmth and thickness.

“Get down on your knees for me, baby.” he whispers, shuffling off the bed to his feet.

You oblige, standing up in front of him and dropping down, your hands resting on his thighs. He strokes your hair lovingly, tucking the loose strands behind your ear and rubbing his thumb across your cheekbone. With his free hand he loops his thumb into the elastic waistband of his underwear and slides it down slowly, inch by inch of his cock becoming more exposed before it slaps against his stomach. He chuckles as your eyes widen, a satisfaction coming through that he can’t hold back.

“M-Matt.. that’s not gonna fit in my mouth.” You say matter of factly, observing the entire length, the curve and the veins that cascade up to his head.

“It’s okay,” he reassures with another stroke of your hair. “You can try. If it doesn’t I’ll show you what to do.”

He grips his base and begins slowly pumping himself, your eyes watching his every move. He brings the head against your lips and rubs it back and forth, coaxing your mouth open. He lets out a small moan as the underside of his tip brushes against your warm tongue, stimulating his sensitive nerves just right. You move your tongue left and right, feeling every dip and groove of his head and coating it in your saliva. You open your mouth wider and wrap your lips around his head, giving a small suck before you pop back off.

“F-fuck..” he groans, moving his hand to grip the roots of your hair on the back of your head. “You’re doing so good already. Open up a little wider, angel.”

You let your jaw fall open, relaxing your tongue and letting it lay flat as he slides his cock deeper into your mouth. You can feel his veins rolling against your tongue as he pushes in slowly, taking his time and being careful to not make you gag. As much as he’d like to make you a drooling mess with his length shoved down your throat, he wants to take care of you and make sure this first time is special.

He stops once he can feel he’s near the back of your throat, and you can feel his muscles tighten as he holds back the urge to thrust. “Now you just suck, move your tongue around, whatever. There’s no real science to it.” He explains gruffly, pulling out just a bit before pushing back into the same spot.

You close your lips around him, sucking and bobbing your head back and forth, his hand gripping tighter on the back of your head. Groans and shaky breaths spill from his lips, his stomach clenching as he bites his tongue, sticking it to the inside of his cheek.

“God baby, so fucking pretty with your lips around my dick.” He coos, wrapping his hand into your hair in a makeshift ponytail.

You feel a little brave, wanting to make him feel better than he is now, and decide to let his head touch the back of your throat. Your throat instinctively clenches, a low gagging sound rumbling through you as your mouth floods with saliva. You look up at him in embarrassment as you pull his member from your lips, a string of spit following as you lean back.

“I’m sorry..” you say meekly, your ears growing hot.

“Hey,” he says in a low, hushed tone, “don’t apologize.” He grips your chin, stroking your bottom lip with his thumb and pulling your mouth back open. He exhales when he slides his length back in. “I think it’s so hot. My pretty girl choking on me. Fuck…” He juts his hips forward, hitting the back of your throat again to elicit the same sound.

His dick twitches at the sound, and your eyes well with tears from the sensation. He pumps himself in and out of your mouth slowly, not going nearly as deep to make sure you don’t have to gag again.

“Wrap your hand around the bottom, yeah.. fuck… just like that.. jerk it a little..” he speaks softly, groaning between his words.

You continue sucking what you can comfortably fit in your mouth, twisting your hand around his base. His breathing picks up and strings of curses fall from his lips.

“Doing so good for me.. fuck. Yeah, like that baby. You look so good sucking me off.”

He continues guiding your head up and down, the sound of his grunts filling up the room as you work him towards his climax. But before he can finish, he pulls your head back by your hair and smiles down at you.

“Get back on the bed.” He says gently with a nod of his head in that direction. He grabs your hands and lifts you to your feet, taking notice of your red knees with a smirk.

You sit down on the bed, your hair fanning out behind you as you lay back onto the pillows. He crawls up your body, placing kisses on your sore knees, up your thighs, up your stomach and through the valley of your breasts until he reaches your puffy lips.

He places a soft peck onto your lips before smashing them together, inhaling deeply as he places his hand softly around your throat. His other arm rests by your head, holding him up so that he hovers above you. Your body starts to almost tremble, both of your most sensitive parts inches away from touching. You reach up and grip his shoulders and he pulls away from the kiss, making direct eye contact.

He opens his mouth to speak. “I just want you to know if you need to stop at any point, let me know. I’d never be upset or disappointed or-”

“Shhh.. I know.” You interrupt him with a giggle, your stomach filled with butterflies already.

He gives you a soft smile and a satisfied hum before he sits back on his knees, his dick twitching as he spreads your thighs and lines himself up at your entrance. Your body feels like it’s burning from the inside out as his skin brushes against yours, every movement making your pulse quicken. He runs his head through your folds, collecting your sticky arousal and coating himself with it before he pushes in.

He lets out a low groan as he feels the resistance of your walls pushing back at him. “You’re so tight.. fuck.” Matt truly doesn’t care if you’re a virgin or not, but the fact that you are, the fact that he’s the first one to taint your innocence drives him crazy to no end.

You let out a small whimper, feeling your entrance stretching around him. It’s not painful, but you can’t exactly say it feels good either. He looks up at you and stops his movements, allowing you some time to adjust to his size.

“All good so far?” He asks, reaching up to squeeze your hip reassuringly.

You only nod, your fingers absentmindedly gripping at the bedsheets. He reaches his hand down and grabs one of yours, bringing it to his lips and placing soft kisses on every knuckle. He pushes in just a bit more, using every ounce of restraint in his body to not shove in to the hilt. His body is flooded with desire, a need to fill you up with his length, to be the first man to feel your plush walls wrapped around him.

“F-fuck..” you whimper quietly, your eyes squeezed shut and your face curled up in discomfort. “It’s so big.. I don’t know if it’ll all fit..” You breathe out as you open your watery eyes to look up at him.

His stomach tightens at your innocent words, he knows it was just an observation but he can’t help but feel so praised and turned on. He lets out a small chuckle and pushes one of your legs up so that your knee rests next to your shoulder.

“It’ll fit, baby. Gotta give it some time.” He whispers, pushing in a little more.

Your walls are slowly loosening up, accommodating to the size of the man above you. The new angle allows him to slip in a little easier so that you’re now taking half of his length.

“Doing so good. Nice and wet for me too.” He coos, reaching his thumb down to brush over your aching clit.

The sensation makes your back arch, your pelvis tilting and ultimately pushing further down onto Matt’s cock, earning a low primal moan from him. With the amount of discipline he’s put himself through tonight, he grips onto your calf, his fingers leaving impressions and his knuckles white.

“T-try not to move.. fuck.. that felt so good.” He croaks, his voice laced with need.

You finally decide you’ve had enough of the waiting, enough time trying to stretch around his thickness. You begin to move your hips, slowly bucking them up and down. His cock slides in and out of your pussy with each hypnotic movement and his eyes widen.

“S-shit..” he breathes, gripping onto the back of your other thigh and pushing it up, leaving you spread completely open.

Your pain dwindles and you start to feel sparks of pleasure. Brisk, rapid moans escape your lips as he moves his hips forward slowly. You almost sound as if you’re in pain, so he stops and starts to ease out of you.

“M-matt.. no, please. Please move.” You beg, reaching up to caress his jaw.

All of his restraint is thrown out the window when he hears you plead so genuinely for him. He slowly pushes his hips all the way forward until his hipbones are flush with the backs of your thighs, your walls swallowing him whole and clenching around him as they accept his length.

“So fucking good. You’re doing perfect.” He praises in a hushed voice, pulling out and pushing all the way back in with ease, his dick coated and wet.

You let out a cry as his tip kisses your g spot and he squeezes your thigh, moving his hips in a rhythm so that he does it over and over again.

“M-Matt..” his name falls off your lips like honey.

“Hm?” He grunts out, his thrusts maintaining a slow rhythm.

“More.. I.. I need more.” You choke out, your body tingling and pulsing with a growing pleasure.

“You sure, baby?” He asks, “you don’t think it’ll be too much?”

“Please.” you spit out a single worded beg, batting your eyes up at him.

He can’t say no to you, the girl he loves yearning for more of him. He picks up his pace and his strokes become harder, his hipbones slapping against you repeatedly. He brings one of his hands to your bouncing tits, gripping one and massaging the skin with his rough fingertips. Moans and whimpers echo off the walls of his bedroom as he goes ever so slightly faster, pulling you further down the bed in an attempt to be as deep as he possibly can into your wet heat.

“Taking it so well, baby. Tell me how you feel.” He groans out, feeling himself falling closer and closer to the edge of climax.

“I… I.. fuck.” You whimper, reaching up to grip onto his biceps, your nails digging into his skin.

“C’mon… tell me.” He prods, leaning down to ghost his lips over your ear. “You like my dick as much as I like feeling you wrapped around it, hm?”

“Y-yes!” You nearly scream as he gives you an extra rough thrust.

His breath hitches and he hums contently, his dick twitching as his seed threatens to spill. He holds it back with everything he has, knowing he wants you to come undone around him before he even thinks about finishing. He leans back up and uses his thumb to rub circles on your clit, the bud pulsing and throbbing beneath his touch. “C’mon baby, let it out.”

Your stomach tenses and releases over and over as you feel your pleasure climbing to a peak. You arch up and give in to the feeling, your walls clenching around Matt’s cock with every wave that crashes and floods your senses. He fucks you steady as he watches you ride out your high, relishing in every moan of his name and flutter of your eyes.

“F-fuck… such a good girl, did so good for me.” He croaks out, his thrusts becoming sloppy and uneven.

With one final rough thrust he pushes in completely to the base, pumping his hot seed deep inside your core. He pulls out and lets his head rest on your clit, jerking himself until the remnants of his release are dripping down your folds.

Your legs give out and fall to either side of him, still shaking and twitching as you catch your breath. He crawls up and settles beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pulling your head onto his sweaty chest. You can hear his heart thumping and pounding against his sternum as you lay together, naked and vulnerable, your skin sticking together.

Your fingers trail up his stomach and his muscles twitch beneath them as they climb higher. He kisses your hair gently, brushing it out of your face and down your back.

“That was so…” you start, pausing to take a deep breath.

“Yeah, I know. Shh.. just rest a minute.” He whispers, finishing your thought while tracing shapes down your spine.

Your eyes flutter closed and you feel so at peace with him that you drift off lying on his chest, lulled to sleep by the sound of his steady breathing and the warmth of his skin.

When your eyes flutter open you hear the sound of his bathtub filling with water and low music playing on his speaker, but see no sign of Matt. You sit up and look around, stretching your arms above your head. His bedroom door creaks open and he walks in quietly holding two towels, a warm smile spread across his face when he sees you’ve woken up.

“Hi, sleepy girl. Just got these out of the dryer, let’s get you cleaned up.”

Tag list: @solarsturniolo @lustfulslxt @whotfisade @soursturniolo @recklesssturniolo @worldlxvlys @chrisolivia4l @kiarastromboli @mattnchrisworld @cupidsword @kvtie444 @xplrfear @knowingnothingnoel @karlybbx @chrisfavoritepepsi @mwah0mwah @starsturniolo @christinarowie332 @fionaheartswomen @angelic-sturniolos111 @mqttittude

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo smut #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo edit #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo edit #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matthew sturniolo smut

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hippiichi · 8 months

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also made this and i thought about his design so hard so im gonna explain every major design aspect under the cut...

ok so hat ofc, blue t shirt and pants ofc those are like THE finn outfit -long sleeve shirt: used for protection against scratches and bites this reason is also why the rosary and watch are on the outsides of his sleeves instead as they help keep those sleeves from being pulled and so he doesn't have to roll up his sleeves at any point. -Long Hair: Has never cut his hair once as Peppermint butler tank does not feature appendages that can properly cut hair nor does he have access to a comb so its wild and unkempt. -Hat patches: As someone who actively hunts vampires + is one of a very small group of humans left Finn's hat is constantly getting pulled at and ripped and torn from vampires going for his "neck protection" -Lip scar + hand scars: His lip scar is from trying to use a stake as a toothpick one time but getting a splinter from doing so, not taking it out and letting it get infected until pb stepped in to help resulting in a scar on his upper lip. His hand scars come from an especially nasty vampire fight as it scratched at his hands. -Blue Bottle/Hydroflask: A hydroflask containing holy water its connected to his belts/backpack through a tangle of thin leather strips that are latched onto a carabiner. -Rosary (One on wrist, one on sword): Finn doesn't really have a concept of what religion or christianity in particular is (since those things have been long dead) but despite that wearing a cross seems to deter vampires to an extent. -Sheathed Knife: A knife used to carve new stakes on the fly and cut through anything blocking his path/deter humans that attack him. -Gold Beads: Every gold bead represents someone who helped finn through his 14 years of life who was then killed by vampires so he doesn't forget them. -Garlic: Garlic air drying to be used in various weapons later, doubles as a natural deterrent much like bug spray -Star pendant: The pendant of The Star collected by Finn after finding it next to a skeleton on the outskirts of the Vampire King's domain -Leather pouch: Contains garlic seeds, quick food like jerky and granola bars, extra gold beads, a roll of leather strip twine, rolled bandages. -Backpack: Camping gear, 1 bedroll, 1 laptop with a "mini" peppermint butler ai software installed, various magical doo-dads hes collected, his backpack has a space that allows his sword to fit inside

#my art #adventure time #fionna and cake

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carolmunson · 10 months

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come get me, come love me (older!modern!eddie)

part four of who knows how many. orange colored sky set list surprise chapter, bitches. after we got rained out at the park, we finish our date at eddie's apartment in prospect heights, things heat up despite the storm. inspired by @loveshotzz older steve series: all i really want is you (see if you can spot the easter egg in this lil chapter.) tw: age gappy (reader is late 20s/early 30s, eddie is late 30s/early 40s), kissin', reader wears eddie's clothes but there's no body description songspiration: lovesick | banks

The door to the building is wedged between a restaurant and a pet store on a long street of bars and places to eat. You’ve been down here plenty of times, the ramen spot closer to the end of the street is to die for, and one of the ice cream shops is the best in this part of the city. He unhooks the carabiner from his belt loop and hurries the key into the heavy iron grate door before bumbling into the wooden one behind it.

“Whew!” he says when you both get inside, wiping some of the rain from his face. He leads you up the stairs to the second floor and down the small hallways. “Both doors are mine, but this is the front door,” he smiles, kicking his shoes off at the mat off to the side. You do the same. “Sorry if it’s a little messy,” he says, keys jingling in his hands while he opens the door, “Maid took the week off.”

You snort when you follow him inside but he looks at you over his shoulder, “No, seriously. It was her son’s birthday on Sunday so I told her not to come in. I try to keep it together for the most part, but – I don’t know, Sasha gives it a special somethin’ I’ve never been able to do on my own.”

It’s a little stunning, his apartment. And when you think a little you mean a lot, a floor and a half with a metal spiral staircase that separates the open concept kitchen from the living room, dining room hybrid on the wall closest to the door. Oak floors that look newly shined, a big and deep sectional closing off the space so a dining room table and chairs could be placed on the other half of the room. Even the exposed brick on the back wall looks like it was just put in. His hand rests on your back while he guides you up to the next floor, the metal cold on your bare feet, shivering against the coolness of the central air whooshing through the place.

“If you want I can give you something comfy to wear and throw your stuff in the laundry,” he says when you make it to the top, opening the door, “Bathroom is just around the corner.”

“You have in-unit laundry?” you ask with a breathy sigh.

“I know, I’m so dreamy,” he winks, “You gonna take me up on my offer? There’s towels in there already.”

“Sure,” you take off the linen shirt and pass it to him, “I’ll be right out.”

The bathroom is small-ish but well put together, it looks like he had it gutted and redone to be more modern, navy blue marbled tiles in the shower with gunmetal hardware – he has an eye, you figure. You open one of the cabinets to see dark blue towels folded and fluffy, waiting for you. The image that meets you in the mirror makes you frown when you wipe your face off – a wet rat with mascara running down her cheeks, blush and lipgloss long faded. You sigh and do your best to wash off your face with what you can, peeling off your wet layers and keeping them on the counter.

“Wanna swap?” he asks while knocking on the door. You ball up your wet clothes, holding the towel up against your chest while you open the door a sliver, easing them out into his waiting hand. You can’t see him but you hear his little snicker while he pushes the dry clothes into your open palm. “You got it?” he asks. “I got it,” you say, balancing them into the room and shutting the door quietly. “Let me know if you want something different,” he offers. You shake out the folded clothes, big black sweatpants and an old, soft band tee. Corroded Coffin spelled out in jagged letters on the front with a marionette dangling from a demonic clawed hand on the back. “This is fine,” you say, slipping them on, “What band is this?” “It’s mine,” he says. You can hear his footsteps walking away from the bathroom while he talks, “Told you I was a rockstar!”

When you’re fully changed into his sweats and shirt you emerge from the bathroom, padding out of the tiles in socked feet. You can hear him downstairs putting the leftover snacks into the fridge and freezer from the cooler. Like the sleuth you are, you take in what you can to learn more about him, inching down the short hallway and peeking into one of the rooms. His bedroom looks like a bachelor’s – not in the way a guy in their twenties would have it, but it’s clear he wants to semi impress whoever he’s taking home. You admire the coziness of the space: wrought iron bed frame – likely a vintage thrift find or thousands of dollars. Dark bedding with knit blankets at the foot of the mattress, a dark green rug under the bed atop the oak floors. His walls are littered with framed photos of him with people you don’t know. Show posters under glass from the 90s, some vintage posters from the 70s. It smells like cedar and a nice hotel lobby candle, manly and unassuming. His dressers are a deep walnut wood that compliment the floors with ease – he did say he had an eye for color. Your eyes wander, looking towards the doors of a walk in closet, more art on the walls. A beautiful baroque style mirror that looks straight out of a gothic mansion leaning heavy in the corner. However, you feel heat rush to your cheeks when, slightly hidden, you see two sets of handcuffs dangling off a small hook by one of his bedside tables.

“Find anything interesting, Nancy Drew?”

His low rumble makes you jump, turning to see him leaning against the wall of the hallway with his arms crossed. You breathe out a nervous giggle, “Sorry, was just seeing the place. Your room is nice.”

“Thank you,” he nods, “I just got it redecorated — got a friend who's a killer interior designer.”

“I bet you got a friend for everything,” you say, meeting him in the hallway where he opens the door to the next room. It's dark, covered in squares of soundproofing foam. A few different guitars hang from the wall above a big desk with three monitors, computer below whirring in a low hum.

“I do,” he says, “We exchange a lot of favors. This is where I work from for the most part. Laundry is just a closet next to the bathroom. And uh…you saw downstairs, so I guess that’s the tour.” “It’s a really, really nice spot,” you confess, heading back down the spiral staircase, “Super good location, too.” “It wasn’t when I landed here in ‘04,” he leans on the railing at the top step looking down at you, “But you were prob’ly learnin’ fractions back then.” “You’re annoying,” you cross your arms at the bottom stairs staring up at his boyish grin, he winks again – your legs are jello. “I’m gonna change real quick, I made you a cup of coffee – there’s creamer in the fridge if you need it,” he calls out before disappearing from the staircase to change. You go to the fridge where there’s a litter of polaroids stuck to the stainless steel – most of them of a German Shepherd puppy posed with him and another guy, clean cut, nothing like Eddie.

“Whose the cute dog?” you ask when you hear his footsteps against the metal.

“Oh that’s my nephew, his name’s Bandit,” he says, pulling a shirt over his head while he makes it back down the spiral staircase. Your eyes linger on the tattoos on his chest, trailing down his obliques, “The dog, not the guy in the pictures.” “I figured.” “That’s my buddy Steve, he’s like my brother. I was out in Chicago for a couple months helping him get his shit back on track – we got him a puppy to keep his mind off things,” Eddie snorts, watching you pour some cream into your mug. You offer to do so for him but he shakes his head, taking it from you to put back in the fridge. “Is he okay?”

“His wife just passed away,” he says quietly. You offer him a sad face and he shrugs in that ‘What can you do?’ kind of way that guys do when they don’t know what to say, “You clothes should be all set in an hour or so.” “Oh, and then you’re kickin’ me out?” you tease, drinking your coffee up against the counter. He smirks, running his palm over the scratchy scruff of his chin and jaw. “Nah, not at all. You can stay as long as you want,” he shakes his head, his curls already starting to dry around his face – big and defined now with the summer rain, “Just didn’t think you’d wanna hang out at some old man’s house all afternoon.” “See, I was thinking how fun it would be to clear you out of your Raisin Bran,” you smirk against the lip of your mug while he makes his way towards you. He crosses his arms, taking slow steps before he’s got you caged in against the counter. If your nose knows, he definitely spritzed a spray of his cologne before he made it back down stairs – dark, spicy sandalwood enveloping you with a whisper of laundry detergent.

“I’m almost out, actually,” he grins, lids half closing while he looks down into your eyes, “But it’s okay, I have an unopened box of Kashi multigrain in one of these cabinets somewhere.” He waits for your next dig, knowing it’s coming by the quirk in your lips – you’re full of them today. “Gotta keep that blood pressure in check,” you tease again, trying to keep yourself from smiling as he leans in, a deep short chuckle coming from his throat. You little brat, it sounds like. “It’s really good for your heart health, actually,” he corrects, brows raising a little. A smirk flits across his full lips when he watches you falter a little, your pretty eyes glazing and glassy while he looms over you. His voice gets low and smoky, just like his cologne, “Maybe you could learn a thing or two from me, hm?”

You shut your eyes, biting the inside of your cheek – you can’t show him how good he’s getting you right now, not so soon, “Oh totally, like what the best pill cases are for my future arthritis medicine.” He laughs, the soft crows feet around his eyes crinkling with it. It’s a barking laugh, quick and sharp – you’re sharp, he likes that, “I can definitely do that.” His nose brushes yours and you brace yourself for what’s coming next, ready to feel him kiss you. To feel the buzz of his hands on you like how they were when he led you inside, when he put his hand on your hands in the park. His lips ghost above yours, breath fanning over your face while you take a final one before the inevitable. “You’ve got a quick mouth there, kleine,” he says smoothly. He reaches around you to grab his own mug of coffee, taking a long sip. Eddie catches the miniscule drop of your shoulders, a silent win goes off in his head. You want him to kiss you so bad and that makes him feel like a million bucks – fuck that – a trillion bucks.

He steps back, taking a sip of his coffee while the apartment gets a little darker, the storm rolling further in. “What’s ‘kleine’?” you ask, trying to regain your breath. He smiles, walking over to the dimmer on the wall and easing the lights up to a warm glow. “It’s German,” he says, looking over his shoulder, “Loosely translates to baby girl.” “You know German?” you ask, trying to not let the translation send you directly into outer space. You watch him with his coffee cup make his way over to the sectional in his open living space. It’s big and inviting, covered in a sea of throws that it looks like he collected over the years. He plops down, tilting his head toward the seat next to him to encourage you over. “I did an extended run of Cabaret in Jersey like – pffft, I don’t know, a million years ago,” he shrugs, putting his coffee on the table in front of him while you plop yourself down on the deep, squishy cushions. You swallow hard when a waft of his cologne hits you again, trying your hardest not to crawl onto his lap to take him in.

“Saw the show in ‘98 with Alan Cumming, lost my mind – I mean, really transformative for an 18 year old I guess. Years later when I moved out here I saw there was auditions for it and just got knee deep in that shit, taught myself German and everything to make it sound more authentic,” he looks forward wistfully while he recounts the story, smiling at you when he comes back to himself, “Was very helpful when I went to Berlin a few years later.”

“Oh, how was that?” you ask, “Did you have fun? I’ve never been to Europe.”

“I’d tell you about all the fun I had if I could remember it,” he grins,flopping his arm up over the back of the couch, beckoning you closer. “C’mere, honey,” he says, the quiet of his voice putting you at ease. You scooch closer to him while he pulls one of the blankets from the end of the chaise cushion and wraps it around your shoulders. With the blanket comes his arm with no hesitation, his hand resting on your shoulder and then down to your waist. “I like to marathon the Twilight Zone when it gets shitty out like this,” he explains, “You down?”

“Yeah,” you smile, “I’m down. I’ve seen a couple handfuls of episodes.”

“Yeah? What’s your favorite?” “Hm,” you think, “I think The Monsters are Due on Maple Street. It’s the first one I ever watched.” “We’ll start with that one, then.” He operates everything from an app on his phone, it surprises you that you’re not as techy as he seems to be. It’s not long before the episode starts and his hold on you becomes more intentional, more cuddly. Thunder booms overhead when the episode gets more intense, making you embarrassed when you jolt. He giggles at you, pulling you in closer – a soft whisper of I got you leaves his lips, you barely hear it. You snuggle up together while the episode ends and another starts, you tilt your head up toward him, “What’s your favorite?”

“Ooh, good question,” he smirks, “I think The Hitchhiker – it was the first one my uncle ever showed me when I started living with him. Scared the shit out of me.”

“You? Scared?” you quirk a brow, looking down at the way he holds you – assured, confident, “You don’t seem like someone who gets scared very often.”

“That’s the old age, peach,” he chuckles out, low and rumbly, “All that Raisin Bran, really switches up that fight or flight.” When you laugh he looks down at you, eyes sparkling, noses close together, “Is that funny?” “Yeah, it’s funny,” you say back just as quietly, adjusting yourself a little closer to him, “You’re funny.” His eyes flick down to your lips and then back up, you feel his hand spread out on your waist while he leans in closer, pressing up against you.

“Just funny?” he asks, watching your eyes flutter closed and then open. His lips ghosting over yours, edge of his bottom lip skating over the curve of your cupid’s bow.

“No, not just…” you breathe, too intoxicated by how close he is, how his lips and breath tease you. His hand glides up from your waist, trailing a fingertip up the side of your neck, stopping under your chin. You shiver at the touch, goosebumps flooding your arms and legs, belly flipping in somersaults. He tilts your head up, his cocking slowly to the side while his watches for your reaction.

“The show’s about to come back on.” The words are soft and quiet when they leave your mouth, your last ditch effort while fear and excitement roar in your ears. His eyes feel like magnets that you’re constantly pulled too, locking with them while he leans in.

“It’s a boring episode,” he grumbles out quietly from behind a smirk, eyes closing while the tip of your nose is brushed with his. He teases one last time before his lips press warmly against yours, parting slightly to capture them. You breathe in sharp through your nose, butterflies fluttering and slamming against your chest for release. His hands come up to lay themselves against your cheeks, now hot with excitement while they find home behind your head and neck. He’s fiending for you in the insatiable way he’s felt before, the way a man fiends for a woman.

His leads, taking control of the way the kiss moves with each tilt of his head, changing the intensity each time he breaks away to breathe and come back to you. His lips are full and plush, a soft pink that works for him, it’s almost innocent, when you know he’s anything but. He comes in again, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth, biting down gently to encourage you to let his tongue slide into your mouth.

His hands greedily pull you in by the waist now that your tongues are brushing, wrapping up together with no space between. You whimper into it, unable to keep the butterflies in your stomach at bay with his other hand roams down your back. You feel his lips stretch into a smile against yours, a growl of a chuckle coming out of his chest when he pulls away again. More kisses, soft and sweet with eyes closed, noses nuzzling before lips meet again. You climb onto his lap, he doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you – tight and protective. You lead this time, a hand coming up to cup his jaw while you kiss, taking his bottom lip between your teeth this time. He relents, grip softening on you, fingertips grazing the tops of your thighs over the material of his sweatpants. Your hips roll forward over his and he pulls away.

“Steady now, sugar,” he warns, looking up at you with heavy lidded brown eyes, “I don’t fuck on the first date.” You pout a little, he likes that face, “You got some kind of moral code, old man?” “M’just not that kind of girl, baby,” he shrugs lightly, taking your hand and pressing soft kisses to your fingertips. His eyes don’t leave yours, big and innocent – like he’s challenging you, “Gotta keep you wantin’ more of me.” You can’t imagine not wanting more of him, no matter how much he gave you. “Then how come you kiss me like that?” you ask, his lips still leaving pillowy kisses against your fingers, “Like you’re hungry for me?”

“Oh, I am hungry, peach,” he smirks, tongue sliding out and gliding up the space between your first and middle finger. The tip of his tongue flicks the pads of them at the top, before taking just your fingertips into his mouth for a moment – hot and wet. Your mouth hangs open, drool collecting under your tongue at the feeling – imagining it happening exactly where you both want it to. “I think we should cut into that icebox cake,” he offers with a smile, like he didn’t just tease you into complete stupidity, “That’ll solve my problem.” He kisses your cheek as he guides you off his lap to get up, feeling lucky that he put on boxer briefs to keep his now painful erection contained – though his sweatpants left little to the imagination. Eddie comes back with two plates with heaping slices of dessert, passing you a spoon while you try your best to calm down.

“You okay?” he asks sweetly, brushing a stray hair out of your face. You nod, shoving a bite into your mouth so you don’t scream over his gentle touch and soft eyes. So you don’t yell and stomp through his living room about how bad you want him to bring you upstairs and eat you out. So you don’t tell him about the butterflies. You eat, watch, and talk – getting stories on his tattoos, you tell him about how you just started living alone, he tells you all the best spots to get furniture. You share soft little kisses while cuddled under blankets, laughing at the bad special effects and talking about the good special effects for the 60s as the episodes continue on. You fall asleep on his shoulder and he lets out a big deep breath – he likes that you already feel comfortable enough to do so. He swallows hard, doing his best to settle down his own butterflies.

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#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fluff #older!eddie #older!eddie munson #stranger things au #stranger things fan fic #stranger things fanfiction

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cator99 · 3 months

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It's okay lesbians i think within the next 5 years yoou can all just go put your septum rings back in those stretched holes up inside your noses or like yeah dont but all the annoying people have moved on and have collectively decided that getting piercings that look like little vampire fangs are their new thing since they all associate the septum thing with their polyamorous witch ex who broke their nintendo switch and gave them herpes so they're gonna force the culture to shift and do some shit that is so fucking shit that we will all collectively forget that sock ever requested you join the accountability circle to collectively hold space to address the inherent ableism in asking them to do their dishes and we can all just breathe a sigh of not quite relief but well let's just be glad its over god Gay men don't have these problems because they don't care they kill each other in the gay districts and then pretend to mourn while whispering in hushed tones God I Wish I Had Met Bruce God Luca Was So Perfect so alternatively you could all just start having retard summer chemsex with other women in tthe chain fenced piss pit at cell block boystown and stop thinking too hard about what you look like while pretending you know how to cruise or if you're being predatory for hitting on the younger ftms or if your carabiner is sending the right message or makes you seem like a poser because you can actualy accomplish so much when you just get the fuck over yourself I think. Allegedlyy

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waters-and-the-wilde · 18 days

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hehe scenario. jupeter coming out the other side of All That with a bit of 'wow you're just straight up a bit codependent but maybe that's actually the best-case scenario for you right now carry on fellas'

oh they've Had Their Talk in the aftermath, and, okay, it's agreed that they are Not Doing Romance because Nureyev needs Time To Grieve and it would be better to Take The Pressure Off Of Being In A Relationship and they will Reevaluate when Nureyev's had a chance to be a guy who doesn't have to worry about where his next meal is coming from. but also Like Hell is Juno just going to Leave Him Alone after all this. and the result is that they spend the Big Crash just. completely unhinged about each other. Nureyev's shot past 'feeling vulnerable around Juno scares the shit out of him' and well into 'raw nerves and gaping wounds and compound trauma and feeling vulnerable about literally anything and everything all the time and being around Juno is integral to not spiraling into the abandonment hell vortex'. meanwhile Juno's like 'holy shit Nureyev is letting me be there for him. this is already incredible progress'

u think they were insufferable on the Carte Blanche well. on the Carte Blanche Nureyev was still working on things like trusting Juno enough to let him back in at all and he Had An Image To Maintain and lots of Private Stuff to Deal With and Juno was still figuring out how not to be a prickly ass all the time and 'when is it appropriate to give your bf his space when your default mode is to Investigate Shit' and none of that is a going concern right now

'sometimes you gotta be a little bit mentally ill to handle the mental illness' they have so much separation anxiety and they are clipping their carabiners together. hooking pinky fingers and following each other when one needs to do something in the next room. where's Nureyev? sitting in Juno's lap again. his ass is experiencing 'nervous system doesn't know how to respond to the sudden removal of constant crushing dread and just goes fucking haywire at unpredictable intervals'. he gets random-ass panic attacks and there's only so much the breathing exercises and the grounding exercises and self-soothing techniques can do compared to 'Juno is here and he's fine and he's safe and he is more than happily providing prolonged physical contact' to get him to calm down on a physiological level

meanwhile Juno's like 'i chased this idiot across half the galaxy because he wouldn't ask for help and had to deal with him being all stone-faced and cold about it, do I look like i mind that he's clingy now? a lady does not need his personal space at this time. a lady is living for this. a lady is also maybe feeling clingy have u considered that'

everyone who isn't rita (idek who. melee? the other vivopolis refugees??) is assuming they are just getting a very bad grade in taking it slow and are barely humoring them about it. and neither bothers with denying the boyfriend allegations but it's not bc it's true it's they're just. too exhausted to get defensive about it

rita: and i mean they ain't actually smooching too loud in the kitchen or whatever

melee probably: he just came out of Juno's room wearing Juno's shirt

juno: he's a thief that's his shirt now

(12 hours earlier:)

nureyev: (shows up to juno's room at 3am) im sorry for waking you i had nightmares about [the bomb/the carte blanche raid/dokana capturing you] i just needed to see that you were alive and make sure im in the reality timeline and then i will go back to-

juno: get in loser we're watching bad cops

rita: hi mista' n do you want some of this blanket

nureyev: that's very kind but im afraid im

juno: yeah hold up he's like really sweaty im gonna get him a clean shirt

nureyev: you really don't need to-

juno: how are you even still standing up when you're shaking like that

nureyev: that is. an excellent question

juno: anyway welcome to the club i fired rita like an hour ago bc i had nightmares about her dying on the asteroid

rita: i had one where i was gettin chased by this big stompy plant monster with lotsa teeth and i had to distract it by throwing all my snacks behind me and then i was outta snacks and then i was up getting more snacks when mista' steel fired me

rita: you know i think only reason i ain't got separation anxiety about mista' steel is because we spent all that time in the ruby together while we were chasin' after you and that gets a gal over it real fast

juno: thanks rita :P

#good morning i am once again committing my little scenarios #hypothetical denouement nonsense #this is not even remotely legit speculation i am just saying words recreationally #the penumbra podcast #juno steel #peter nureyev

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spagheddiediaz · 7 months

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tease tuesday / wip wednesday <3

hi i am combining these two because i am slacking.

ANYWAY here is a lil bit from the fic i have temporarily titled as "drunk & insecure" & i keep singing "lost and insecurrreeeeeee you found meee!" by the fray every time i open this doc.

tagged by ~ @hippolotamus @wikiangela @daffi-990 @callaplums @eddiebabygirldiaz @honestlydarkprincess @forthewolves @loserdiaz @callmenewbie @fortheloveofbuddie @theotherbuckley

“I’m doing it wrong. I’m doing it all wrong.” Eddie shuffles towards the couch but pauses when he sees the empty space where a couch once was - where a couch should be. “You’re doing what wrong?” Buck asks cautiously, moving closer to Eddie for no other reason than to catch him if he were to stumble into something. And judging by his current coordination, was the exact direction he was heading in. “Is this about the damn carabiner Eddie because I swear I wouldn’t have gone down if I wasn’t sure it was-” “I don’t know how to be a dad.” Eddie cuts him off and looks over to him, his eyes glossed over and his cheeks red and puffy. And Buck.. Buck laughs. Because Eddie was an overly competent professional at a lot of things. But being a dad? He exceeded at that more than anything else. And if you were to ask Tia Pepa, Abuela, Bobby, Athena, Hen, Karen, Maddie, Chim, Christopher, Carla, Lucy, Ravi, Harry, May, Denny, Michael, Josh, Albert, Lena, Sue, and Shannon, they’d all agree. Hell, Buck was pretty sure that even Abby, Ali, and Taylor would agree but he wasn’t about to go there today. Eddie pouts out his bottom lip and plops down on the floor. “Stop laughing at me.”

tagging @king-buckley @thewolvesof1998 @thosetwofirefighters @disasterbuckdiaz and anyone else who hasn't been tagged yet <3

#and i just think #i just.. i think #that eddie goes to buck when he's feeling like this bc buck is his safe space #and he KNOWS eddie like the back of his hand #and sometimes... we all just need a lil reassurance okay #OKAY?#bye

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dykeomania · 2 years

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a hinge/tinder date with ellie starts awkwardly. the realization that you, as wlw, have both succumbed to the dating network app craze is a hard, but inevitable pill that you both swallow. it's one that you get over once elllie meets you in the cafe, stumbling in, all haste and made of apologies. the red line ran late and because the red line was late, her transfer over to the orange line was also a bit delayed and then there was this guy who was being a dick and she had to yell at him a little and it took up so much time and she misread which coffee shop so she had to walk from point a to point b super fast and she is so, so so sorry, but honestly? you're kind of wrapped up in the fact that .. she's even cuter than her pictures. you can tell by how they're fading that her freckles have chosen to bloom a little bit differently this past summer, and that her hair is a little bit shorter. it's usually in a bun, or a half-bun, at least from what you've assumed from her pictures. but this time it's completely down. and she's got this brown corduroy jacket on, and blundstones, and loose jeans that have a carabiner attached to one of the loops (which really didn't make sense to you, in retrospect -- she took the train, why does she have her car keys? gay signaling, you suppose) and she's honestly a little bit shorter than you'd imagined, but like... she's so fucking cute. so you're like, it's okay. i was kinda late too. as in, i got here 5 minutes ago. and you give each other a smile because you can't really be mad at each other, and once you stand, she asks you if you've ever been to the cafe before.

she pays for your coffee, and takes you on the best goddamned tour of boston that you think you've ever been on. you base this not off of the amount of places that you go to, but purely just based off of vibes. you spend too much money in chinatown because the food is so good and so outrageously inexpensive. you sunbathe, bond, and pet dogs in the boston common. you get hot cider, and take a walk along the charles river, and chat shit for ages. you learn that she doesn't really know where home is, but her dad who isn't really her dad lives in wyoming with her uncle who isn't really her uncle. you learn that she's the first in her family to go to college, and originally, she chose BU, but switched over to MIT because the physics program is better. you're like, well what do you wanna do? and she's like, honestly? i have no fucking idea. but she tells you about how when she was little, she wanted to be astronaut and if the stars align and she gets her internship at NASA this summer, maybe she'll see it through. you make jokes about lesbians in space, and almost burn your tongues. the chill in the air tells you that it's probably time to get away from the water, so you get up and start walking again.

by this point, she's content with handing off her jacket to you and easily waltzes around in the black t-shirt she's wearing with some logo in the upper right corner and a design on the back. the hair has inevitably gone up in a bun. and by this point, you've kind of walked around the same circle, over and over and over again. so randomly you're like, it's such a flex, being able to go to mit or harvard. and she's like, well you could technically go there. and all the sudden you're giving each other looks and then all the sudden you're dipping into the nearest mbta station and she's bought your train ticket and now you're hopping from the orange line, to the red line (which is surprisingly up and running, thank fucking god)

ellie's actual dorm is a single, and therefore a shoebox. but the building, and mit's campus, is huge. you walk around a little just for vibes and she shows you where she cried over her midterm last week and where she did homework literally less than 48 hours ago. but the second the sun dips, you're back in her room, and the lighting is low. you talk music, and she plays you a couple of songs off of her mac -- some that she puts you onto, some that are so familiar to the two of you that you both wind up singing it to each other. you talk, and talk, and talk, and eventually you're like, you play guitar? and then she's playing you guitar when you sit across from her on her bed, and then suddenly, she's playing you your favorite song. and she's singing it in a tone that's a lot gentler. a lot shyer. and this is like, the moment where 12 year old you is looking at you now-age you and is like, this is your coming of age romance moment. this is it. and suddenly, it becomes so still. and suddenly ellie's complimenting the color of your eyes. and suddenly, you're close enough to realize that ellie's eyes are actually like 4 different colors. and suddenly, you can feel the heat of each other's faces, and suddenly you can feel the small bit of damage that the cold has done to her lips against your own, and suddenly you're reaching for each other's faces and she's got to move her guitar off her lap--

when you wake up the next morning, it's kind of a blur. ellie isn't there, but she didn't wake you. she instead left you a note. something about how she has a 9am. something about how she'd love to do this again sometime. something about texting her when you get home. there's a bagel and a green juice from her campus cafe with your name on it, and she doesn't necessarily imply that you have to return the shirt that you slept in.

your friends have your location and they notice you've been in one sector of town for far too long. on your way out of her dorm, you check your text messages. the main one that pestered you into actually going forward with the date asks you, so, how was it?

and you smile you sip your green juice, and text her back with one hand saying, it was good. but then you pause, hit the backspace key a few times and correct your phrase to, it was great.

#:)#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #cute cute cute #this isnt the fic #just a diddy

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dullahandyke · 1 month

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yippee yippee yippee yippee eimear con haul!!!!

Hi. It was my birthday recently and I'm bad to shop for so instead of gifts I got money to spend at Kaizokucon. So here's a haul. Under the cut bcos I couldnt fit it nicely in one picture and I wanna ramble

ok we're gonna take it one picture at a time ^_^ the ID in the alt text explains what everything is if u just wanna see what i got without the rambling sure to come with it. links in rambling r to the artists of the fan stuff where i can find em ^_^ only one of them is a direct link to the product tho bcos some ppls shops r down and some ppl dont have all their stuff online. lemons_arent_green youre a real one

Ok the flat stuff!!! black rock shooter poster bcos i already have a figure but i liek her... badass anime girl ily.... was so so sure i saw a reigen keychain but when i went to go get one there weren't any so i got this sticker sheet instead :3 SPEAKING OF KEYCHAINS!!! yippee yippee kaguya i love you youre my special little tiempsy. yue you are a gay anime boy with a cool design. tomoyo ive always felt a kinship with you and its because im a desperate dyke. monokuma is here ig 🙄 i put him on my carabiner and hes fun to stim with. i am not immune to the sdr2 fanboying. also full disclosure ive not watched naruto (its in the spreadsheet) i just thought funko pop sasuke keychain was really really funny. my son who stares into my soul. comparatively i dont have as much to say on the badges!! luka luka fever for real girlie ily. the bandori ones were blind bags and i got himari on my first try <3<3<3<3<3<3 sorry eve i kind of dont care. 🙁 the dr girlies i kinda picked at random based on who i've been vibing w lately.

THE POKEMON DIORAMA!!!! its soooo cool, staff were setting up the trade hall so i was in there all day friday and this shop was one of the first to set up their stands and i was literally staring at it all day... so fucking awesome. the rings n the necklace r from the same shop look at them... im fucking obsessed w the catgirl necklace. literally look at her. i dont thiiink shes supposed to be a specific character but she might be. oh well. cat girl ily. aaaand the arisa stand is actually a little clip for papers n stuff!! she was also a blind box but specifically for popipa so i was gonna b happy w whoever <3

MIIIIKUUUUUU MY PRINCESS MY EVERYTHING!!!!! she was calling to me she beckoned..... shes actually rlly big irl shes the biggest figure i have, replacing my kokoro one... shes the one where i audibly said 'it was my birthday i can buy things' bcos figures spencey... she wasnt too bad actually i just like bitching. 6 euro axel for scale

BOOKS 💥💥💥 i was reading nana a while back and i dropped it but i gotta pick it up again... rlly pretty and awesome... aaaand the summer hikaru died!!! kay if youre seeing this then know you posting abt it convinced me <3 i originally got it bcos i was on door duty in a quiet area and didnt wanna spend my time draining battery life on my phone but after i bought it i realised that that was literally a terrible idea so <3 we'll get around to them soon

FINALLLYYYYYY TSHIRTS!!! the top yellow one was my staff t-shirt, it has 'staff' on the back i was wearing it all weekend and yippee i love it.... emotional bond.... and if this is a safe space can i just say. if kaito was a woman? would. next up FAYE FUCKIN VALENTINEEEE!!! do u remember that post i made going thru all the sellers that were gonna b at the con that started like 'i hate shounen fans. name a woman'? well this is the seller i was talking about but all was forgiven in the name of FAYE ! GODDAMN ! VALENTINE ! ugh i love you girlie. and the last t-shirt was given out free to staff after the closing ceremony!! it was the tenth anniversary of kaizokucon so we got this awesomes design yay.... wore it to classes today hoping somebody would comment on it and nobody did 😌and in the middle i got CLOW CARRRDS BITCHES!!!!!! i saw them and immediately all thought left my fucking brain. i needed them. so important. the seller also recognised the axel in my fanny pack yippee!!!! a few people recognised him over the weekend actually and i was always like yes!! the him

anyway. yippee! yippee! yippee! yippee! yippee! yippee! yippee! yippee! yippee! con con con con con :)

#id just in alt text bcos my rambling p functionally describes it

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nohoney · 8 months

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Touya sits on his chair, ready with his sketchbook and pencil in hand, watching with the rest of the class as the teacher circles around the blank space that the model is supposed to stand in. Reminders again to not focus too hard. Not too fast not too slow either. The model will change poses or props after fifteen minutes.

The art teacher waves their hand over and feet quietly pad over to them at the very center of the circle.

The robe slips off your body and the art teacher takes it for you, allowing you to make your first pose for the class.

He sketches your back and shoulders first, graphite put to paper to draw the lines of your curves and how your hair is styled as well. Looking up occasionally, he admires the lighting against your skin and his gaze lingers a little longer than it’s supposed to.

“Next pose.”

It’s your profile this time and something in him is a little nervous for some reason as he tries to draw a decent reflection of you into his sketchbook. Touya doesn’t know why; it’s not like you’ll see it. He focuses on your body and draws the curve of your breast, drawing a little point that’s supposed to be your nipple.

He imagines his hand placed right at your ribcage with his thumb brushing underneath your soft tit.

Touya clears his throat and tries to clear his mind of what just popped up. There’s nothing sexual in nature about drawing nude figures; in fact one would consider it almost clinical. It’s only strictly for learning anatomy.

But did they have to choose a model so hot this time?

You change into the next pose which is of you lounging in a chair and facing towards his direction. He wonders what you’re thinking of to pass the time. Your legs are drawn onto paper and Touya imagines what it’d be like to run his hand along your thighs. He wonder if you’d be nervous if he did, he’s been told his hands are cold. But maybe you’re not shy seeing as you’re quite comfortable being drawn nude by strangers.

“Don’t focus too hard on where her waist goes up.”

Touya’s a little startled but he nods his head. Only the bottom half of you had been drawn by him so he rushes a little to sketch your upper body on the chair. This time he has full view of your tits and your face. He glances again and he sees that your eyes are set forward as if looking at him.

It’s just a pose though, probably looking past him and needing to stay still—

No. He swears that you are actually looking at him.

“Alright, small break everyone and then we’ll do two more times before dismissal.”

The art teacher gives you your robe and walks you off to the side. Most of the students stand up from their chairs and stretch their body. Touya’s sketchbook is set down and he remains in his chair as he lets out a quiet sigh. He feels guilty; he has a boner. And of all days to wear sweatpants too.

But he calms down enough after a few minutes and glances to where you’re at. You’re speaking with some of the other students and having a little laugh. He wonders how you can feel so comfortable knowing that the very people before you know what you look like with no clothes on.

Ugh, I sound like such a prude.

The break is announced over and you’re back in the center with the robe taken away. The chair rotates to a different direction and Touya notes how you angle your head, resting your cheek into your palm and drawing in a breath before exhaling. He sees how your eyes glaze over and you drift off to whatever la la land keeps your mind busy as your body is used for anatomical purposes.

Class is dismissed and Touya is slow to pack his things. He wonders if he can catch one last glance of you before he leaves the campus. You’re dressed up in comfortable clothes and talking with the art teacher near the entrance. A tote bag hangs on your shoulder along with a carabiner of your keys and keychains clipped to the strap. He finds your style quite cute.

He’s all packed up and ready to leave, being the last student to vacate the studio. Giving a passing nod to the art teacher, he hears you say, “Yeah I’d love to come back and model again for this class.”

Touya steps out the studio and walks to the exit. He hears the door of the studio close from behind and he looks over his shoulder. You share a glance with him before giving a smile and a wave. He only returns the latter.

He’s in his bed, looking over the page that consists of your body. Touya critiques himself quietly, running his finger along where he thinks he drew your legs too long or that the bend of your arm doesn’t look quite right to him.

Next time you stand for the class again, he silently promises to himself to draw you a little better.

#i was looking over my friend’s sketchbook of nude models and just found them so fascinating #dabi x reader #todoroki touya x reader #bnha x reader

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kin-machine · 16 days

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Free pet rat/rodent stuff (portland, OR)

If anyone in the Portland area would like some free rat stuff, DM me. My rats have all passed as of February and we need a break from rat ownership so I hope someone else can give some of this stuff a second life.

item descriptions under the cut.

- One unopened, full bag of Oxbow Essentials adult rat food, (expires Feb 21st, 2025) and one opened bag with about ⅓ left over inside, (expires June 3rd, 2025.)

- One bottle of Meloxicam, good for anti-inflammation, very commonly prescribed to rats but do your research about use and dosage before giving it to any of your animals. Hard to say how much is left, only a little less than a 4th of this 32 ml bottle has been used. Expires 3/31/2026. I gave this to my last rat as he had a genetic issue that affected his breathing and was non-contagious, his cage mates never expressed any of symptoms that he did. Something to do with an over-abundance of naturally-occurring bacteria in his ears and throat, it inhibited his breathing a bit but my vet confirmed it was non-contagious.

- Nine assorted syringes, good for measuring medicine and oral administration. All are unused.

- One half-full bottle of Saline solution, 0.9% Sodium Chloride Irrigation, USP. I used this to Nebulize the rat with breathing issues to loosen anything in his airways. About 650 ml is left. Not for injection.

- One yellow fabric Elizabethan Collar for rodents, Mickey Mouse print. Never used.

- Two lightly used, thoroughly cleaned blue corner litter trays. My rats never really got the hang of potty training so I took these out soon after trying and failing, these are practically like new.

- Two medium flat back water bottles. These were used consistently for several years but show very little wear. Washed thoroughly.

- One small water bottle, lightly used, fits perfectly into the hole and loop on the pet carrier for this exact purpose.

- One heavily used purple plastic shallow food dish - used more as a back up bowl for travel. They chewed the lip of the bowl quite a bit, but still does the job.

- Small purple plastic castle hide, lightly used. For its size, better for baby rats.

- A few assorted unused wooden blocks and slices.

- Two large “Space Pod” Igloo hides, lightly used, can stand or be hung from the cage bars.

- One small enrichment toy treasure chest, lightly used. The wooden blocks it came with have since been chewed to bits, but putting obstacles like that with treats inside is good enrichment.

- Two cute tree-themed hammocks, lightly used. One looks like a hollow log and has leaves on it. A couple small chew marks but not much. Quite soft.

- Six assorted animal-print simple square hammocks. Some are lightly used, others are near untouched.

- Two climbing rope squares with carabiners for attaching to cage bars, lightly used.

- One dog tug-of-war rope I took apart and braided for climbing surfaces.

- One multi-sectioned, polkadot hammock with long elastic bands. My rats liked to use this one as an elevator between platforms and was a big favorite. Obviously used but in good shape with no chew marks.

- One small soft-sided pet carrier, lightly used. Can zip to just open one side or completely open to lay flat. Includes a small, plastic grommet hole in the door flap with an elastic loop to hold a small water bottle that sits on the outside and nozzle pokes through to be drank from inside, the smaller water bottle included fits perfectly. Sides are rigid enough to not be chewed through in my experience, but I wouldn’t put that to the test with total no-supervision, definitely a good option for vet trips. Inside has a fabric insert that attaches with velcro and the sides and bottom of the carrier can be wiped down with a damp cloth to clean. It has a really cute punk print on it that says stuff like, “Rebel,” “Hello, my name is Trouble,” “Play Time,” “Talk to the Paw,” “Keep Exploring,” “Rad,” “I <3 Treats,” etc.

#rat #rats #portland #free #pets #rodent

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last-starry-sky · 14 days

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Early happy anniversary! I discovered you on one of Toni’s prompts that you rb’ed with an added drabble and I really liked it ☺️ do you have some ideas bouncing around already? Maybe you can do a little poll?

I’ve always thought about a secretly obsessive reader with Ghost. Who thinks she’s sly and sneaky in masking her obsession but ofc Simon is observant and clocks everything

Awww ❤️ Thank you so much!

((also !!!! no fucking way omg. Which one? @shotmrmiller is just the best and sweetest. ❤️ I'm eternally thankful for her tolerating my presence letting me get my start by rambling on her awesome posts!!))

I was thinking maybe I'd either release a fic or collect and answer some prompts??? but nothing is set in stone yet! 😅 I know i've got time, it is only barely spring here so July feels like a lifetime away, but i would like to be prepared. Spread some of the love around to all of yall ❤️ The poll does sound like a good idea! I'll have to get drafting that soonish.

a+ idea there at the end too like omg just IMAGINE

You're fucking smitten from the word go, and how can you not be? Tall, sexy voice, actually give a fuck about the men underneath him

((what you wouldn't give to be underneath him- what who said that))

You do your best to observe him, figure out what he likes in order to get in his good graces. Which goes horribly, by the way. If what's coming out of your mouth isn't absolutely necessary to his task at hand, if you aren't needed in that moment, he's dismissing you with one or two harsh words.

You swallow your pride that day, but it doesn't deter you. Not at all. You're nothing if not persistent. You collect yourself, plan, figuring out a better way to get him to accept you. And what better way into an externally stoic man's heart is there than through his friends?

Soap doesn't want to fill out his reports? Don't worry!! You've got it!!

Gaz can't find his favorite carabiner? You'll spot him yours!! You'll help him find it later!! ((you stole it, but you know he'll never find out))

Even Price, the fucking Captain, starts to take you up on your offers and you do every single thing he asks. "Mind making a few extra copies of this? Grab us some coffees while you're out, too." Absolutely. 🙂Yes sir. 🙂 You worm your way into becoming his happy little (unofficial) secretary.

You keep up the act, happily mopping up all the little tasks they hate, living for the little compliments they drop around Ghost.

"Such a helpful lil' doll, ain't she?"

"Would cut off my arm to have her on our next mission, cap."

"What would we do without y', hen?"

Ghost doesn't say a goddamn thing.

You're about to give up, move on, convinced he doesn't even know your name, when he corners you in the kitchen. You've got three teas in front of you on the counter while you're waiting for the water to boil. He says your name and it makes you jump. He sounds gruff, annoyed, pissed he even has to be around you. Before you can speak he's right up on you, crowding your space. You're crushed against the counter (and his chest), forced to look up at him as he very literally talks down to you.

"Don't know what you're fuckin' planning, but stop," he says, hands on his hips as he leans over you. "Think we'll keep you around just because you know how to make tea?" he scoffs. "Tired of watching you fuckin' simp around. Bad enough I gotta listen to the others prattle on about ya. It's pathetic. You're a soldier. Act like it. Now make yourself scarce until you remember who you are and why you're here."

#asks #anon #mw2 #starry writes #ghost/reader #((not really but let me put this in my tag lmao))#mean simon mean simon MEAN SIMON #and now I need to go to bed bc i have an early day at work :((((

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theonlyadawong · 27 days

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was tagged by beloved mutual @devilbrakers in this tag game :D

01. a character you love.

i shant go on about ada wong, the evil resident so instead i will talk aboooooooooooooouuuuut ummmm lucie jurin! from martyrs (2008) she murdered the family that abused her as a child and i think that's wonderful. she is also living with intense survivors guilt and she has a friend who is a girl (girlfriend?) who is by her side (for the most part)

02. your favourite food from your culture.

BAKED SWEET POTATOES MMM MM MM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! DELICOUS!!!!!!! also carne guisada ❤️

03. what your dream apartment / room / house is like.

🤔 well, it has to have lots of open space. i absolutely HATE when my living quarters feels cramped. i would also like it to have greenery (even though i can't take care of a plant to save my life), and i would like some green walls and nice brown wooden decor. and all my decorations and knick knacks would probably be nature themed. oh!!!! and also, i would have a papasan :)

04. your personal style or aesthetic.

i wear lots of overalls, tank tops, turtlenecks, skirts, boots, and sneakers, and it's all neutral colors. not a very interesting answer but idk how else to describe it

05. a happy memory.

one time when i was a kid, i won the jackpot on that wheel of fortune game at a putt putt! it was especially cool because i didn't even know what i was doing, i was just pressing the buttons. also one time i won a minor prize playing the stacker arcade machine and it glitched, and it gave me all the carabiners inside.

06. your favourite way(s) to spend time.

drawing (digitally) which ive only been doing since october 2020!!!! aaaaaaaand also watching TV and movies. i recently watched the movie martyrs (2008)for the third time in a month and i just love it. the love between anna and lucie is so palpable and the actors are just stellar. i also love thr sopranos and i have the box set!! I've watched it all the way through 3 times over the course of last year (and a little bit into this year) and it's just so good (though i will day the racism grates at me lmfao.) i also love futurama but ONLY the first 7 seasons. but for the past month ive been playing re4r (which im sure my followers know by now lol) and im having lots of fun!

07. story behind your url / title / quote / description / icon.

obviously, my url is a reference to THEE ada wong buy it specifically comes from me being absolutely positive ada made some reference to her saying she was, "the only ada wong," in re6 but alas she says, "the real ada wong." so i was wrong.(fake fan moment 😔) but once i realized this, i didn't want to change my url bc it stuck with me. and my icon is canceled ada because i get such a kick out of it. it's so funny

08. something that comforts you or brings you joy.

SHELL COLLECTION!!!!! SHELL COLLECTION OF REAL SHELLS FROM REAL BEACHES THAT I REALLY PICKED UP!

09. what you’re looking forward to.

ik this is a tiny thing in the grand scheme of life but i just bought the infinite rocket launcher in 4r so im really excited to play a whole game with that! >:)

10. something else that’s important to you.

THEATRE! im sadly not much into it now but i love every single aspect of live theatre so much you don't even know. a chorus line, hair, and shuffle along are my favorite shows EVER!!!

uhhhhmmm idk who to tag! but it you see this and you want to do it, then pretend i tagged you!!! :D

#speakerphone!#this was fun!

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2c75ff · 2 months

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bio;

NAME. Seventeen [Note: word of god apparently states that Seventeen's name, prior to being taken and modified by Dr. Gero, was Lapis. My Seventeen, however, will never remember his old name, whatever it might have been; nor will he choose that one for himself if indeed he ever gets to a point of selecting a name other than his given, numeric moniker.]

GENDER. male ORIENTATION. bisexual; but largely lacks the vocabulary, experience, or compulsion to describe this fact either to others or to himself

HEIGHT. 168 cm / ~5 ft 6 in BODY TYPE. compact, narrow-hipped, and sculpted. Trim, but neither bony nor skinny. POSTURE. head high and shoulders back, never shrinking into himself or shying away from his right to occupy space precisely as he pleases. Prone to a slightly off-center lounge – (rolling his weight onto one leg, crossing his arms or propping a hand on his hip, etc.) – when at ease or in his element. DISTINGUISHING FEATURES. unnaturally vivid, penetrating blue eyes. An aura of cocksure gravity which stands at strange odds with his modest stature. STYLE OF DRESS. favors durability and function over pure aesthetics, but even now seems to have something of a weird little fondness for subtle 'cowboy' or 'ranch hand' flavors. Wears a great deal of denim, flannel, duck canvas, sherpa linings, and brown leather. Doesn't generally wear jewelry apart from the small gold rings in his ears; instead tending to accessorize with items like bandanas, western belts, and 'purpose pieces' such as carabiners or utility knives.

AT HIS BEST. resilient. imaginative. clever. confident. playful. resourceful. self-assured. courageous. curious. strong-willed. adaptable. AT HIS WORST. haughty. reckless. mercurial. unrelenting. moody. stubborn. vain. smug. presumptuous. impulsive. vengeful. goading. stimulation-seeking.

TEMPERAMENT. dry-humored, rebellious, and governed by whim at a glance. Seems, in spite of his droll, 'devil-may-care' individualism, to generally operate within a strange personal matrix of honor and 'fair play' with others, and looks more favorably upon those who exhibit similar tendencies. (After all: what's the point of playing a game if there are no rules to give it context or meaning?) Gravitates most readily to those he sees as somehow eccentric, off-kilter, or 'misfit toys'. Hungry to know himself, and perhaps even to be known by others; but suspicious of others' kindness or curiosity toward him. Pathologically distrustful of anything he perceives as a figurative leash. Sees people as ultimately self-serving, and thus tends to be most comfortable when he feels like he understands what exactly someone stands to gain from him. Is apt to be caught a bit off-guard when people treat him companionably or compassionately simply for the sake of altruism, and perceives such events as debts or favors to be repaid. Would rather do things the interesting way as opposed to strictly the fastest way. Does not seem to possess a traditional education, but is quick to adjust to the unfamiliar. Tends to favor practical, hands-on knowledge and experiences over things like random trivia or hyper-specific academia.

FUNDAMENTAL MOTIVATOR. 'I will never be owned by or helpless to anyone ever again. I belong to no one and am beholden to no one anymore but me. From now on, I'm doing things my way.' FUNDAMENTAL CONUNDRUM. 'Is everything that I think I know about myself simply an output of someone else's invasive programming? Even now, is it someone else's hand upon my wheel instead of my own? Is this the 'real me'? Is there even a 'real me' left?'

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quaranmine · 2 years

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How to Be a Human Being (Chapter Ten)

Boatem is in the void.

Masterpost | Chapter Nine

Words: 4742

We've gotten too far into this fic without any mortal peril, huh?

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

It’s odd how reality started to drip away from you as you floated in the void. Grian was accustomed to falling into the Boatem Hole and dying after a few seconds, but the moon’s gravity was stronger now and none of them had truly felt gravity in a long time. As such, he found himself sort of floating next to Mumbo, going downwards at a nearly imperceptible pace.

The light from the Boatem Hole was still visible–the hole itself was still visible. Grian thought he could see a torch flicker way up above, but then it suddenly vanished from view. The whole view of their world seemed to be warping and fading as they fell deeper, and the bedrock seemed to move under his gaze. It made him dizzy.

He looked up anyway, because this was the last time he’ll ever see their home.

The void was dark and full of inky blackness right up until it wasn't. There were little lights on the horizon, like purple and blue stars, though they seemed to move and blink when Grian moved his head. Scar, Impulse, and Pearl were below him and Mumbo–the two of them had fallen a bit slower than the others after Scar failed to include the correct amount of escape hatches for them.

“Grian! Mumbo!” Scar shouted, snapping Grian out of his thoughts.

“Yeah?” he replied.

“You’re too far away. We should be tethered together.”

“Oh,” Mumbo muttered. “Does that mean we’re gonna float off, then? I really don’t fancy floating off into the void alone. Or with you, no offense.”

“No, they’re saying they’re gonna toss us a tether,” Grian replied. “Look, Impulse is holding it right now. Get ready.”

Impulse tossed them the tether. It missed the first time, with the void being difficult to account for since it behaved differently than air. The second time, though, Mumbo caught it.

“I caught it!” he said.

“Tie my suit onto yours,” Grian said.

“Oh, how should I . . .”

Grian rolled his eyes and took the tether from Mumbo, and slid the tether through one of the metal rings on his suit before clipping the carabiner on the other end to a ring on Mumbo’s suit and locking it. “Now we’re both attached to each other.”

“I could have tied that tether, you know. I’m good with tying knots, I just didn’t know which one to choose for this.”

“I’d rather see your knots when our lives aren’t on the line. Using the clip is easier. It’s made for this, you know.”

Impulse reeled them back down until everyone was at the same level together, and then they all took turns attaching the tether to one another until they floated in a line. There was enough slack to move around if they wanted, but nobody was going to drift away from the group. Grian gave it about five minutes before they were all tangled up in each other like a dog accidentally wrapping a leash around its leg.

“Now we won’t float off!” Scar said, triumphantly. “This is so cool, it’s like a spacewalk. I’ve always wanted to do one of those, you know.”

“Wish it was in better circumstances,” Impulse said.

“Or, you know, actually in space,” said Grian. The group sort of uncomfortably agreed with that, and fell silent for a bit. Boatem, on most days, were never silent when all put in a room together at once. There was always something going wrong, someone teasing someone, someone making a joke, someone accidentally (or purposefully) killing another, someone scamming, someone planning, or someone arguing. But it didn’t feel like there was a lot to say right now.

Mumbo finally broke the silence. “So, er, Scar, where exactly are we going?”

“Yeah,” Pearl added. “What are we supposed to do now?”

“Um,” Scar said.

“Scar,” Grian said, not liking that tone.

“Um, well you see, I, uh, didn’t plan that far?” Scar explained hastily, hands thrown up placatingly. “I just built the rocket, you know! And the suits! I did those too. And, I got us out of there, but I didn’t really make a plan for how we’re getting out of here. I didn’t have time for that.”

“You made us go in here without a way to get us out?” Pearl exclaimed, at the same time Mumbo started making distressed noises and stumbled over some comment about how they were all trapped here and going to die.

“Well what was your plan to get us out of there?” Scar asked defensively.

“I was going to blow up the moon,” Mumbo said.

“Yeah, and how did that work out for you?” Grian said sarcastically.

“It’s not my fault you all distracted me so I couldn’t detonate it in time!”

“Oh, blame it on me-”

Pearl cut in. “Mumbo, wasn’t it also your idea to start a cult around not sleeping so that we’d appease the moon god or whatever?”

“YOU joined it! If it was such a bad idea, then why did everyone here join it?” Mumbo cried. “Besides, that was all a lie. How could any of you believe that? It was so silly, I can’t believe you fell for it.”

“I don’t need to sleep,” Pearl said. “It doesn’t matter if I joined it because it had no effect on me.”

“You were dead serious about the Mooners. Don’t lie, I saw it,” Grian said at the same time. “You roped me into it.”

“You wouldn’t sleep because you wanted to measure the moon!” Mumbo exclaimed. “I didn’t rope you in because you never even believed me.”

“Maybe I’d have believed you if you hadn’t tricked me into giving my soul away earlier this season,” Grian said, and actually enjoyed the hurt look on Mumbo’s face for a moment. “And yeah, I measured the moon. I wanted to actually do something about it!”

“Did you?” Mumbo asked, quietly. “Did you do something about it?”

Grian stopped. Because, well, he hadn’t. Not really. All he had was a book of numbers carefully scratched out proving the moon was getting bigger. Which was something he already had empirical evidence of every time he stepped outside at night.

“I asked Scar,” he said, “to build us a rocket.”

“I never slept,” Scar said mildly. “Except when I needed to. That whole Mooner business was funny, though. And I built the rocket, didn’t I? I did what you asked!”

“You’re like talking to a genie, Scar, I swear. Ask you for one thing and you better be specific or else you’re gettin’ something else. I asked for the rocket so we could go to space,” Grian shouted. “Not the void! You know, because rockets are for space. I thought you were supposed to be the space-person on the server, you talk about it all the time!”

“Scar-X has never had an unsuccessful space mission,” he defended.

“That’s because you’ve never had a space mission,” Mumbo muttered. “And this still isn’t one.”

“Why didn’t you build a rocket, Grian?” Scar asked.

“Because I don’t know how! That’s why I asked you!”

“I still got us out of there.”

“Yeah,” Pearl said. “Into the void where we might all die.”

“Well, that’s just a little pessimistic,” Scar pointed out. “Lighten up, Pearl! We’re all here, aren’t we?”

“I don’t even know where here is,” Mumbo said. “Are we sure this is better than before? I mean, really. Couldn’t we have just left the server? Wouldn’t some place, like, I dunno, Empires take us all in for a bit?”

“The moon made the server unstable. The server instability was making portals unsafe to use, at the end,” Pearl said. “We wouldn’t have been able to properly escape to someone else’s world without risking it too with the instability. So our best bet is finding a new blank world, so if the portal fails then we don’t risk anyone else. That’s what Xisuma said during the meeting.”

“Oh thank God,” Scar said. “Someone who actually listened during that.”

“Guys,” Impulse said. The others bickered over him.

“Maybe you should listen harder,” Grian commented, “because then you’d remember I commissioned a spaceship, not a device to drop us all in the void.”

“Oh, ‘cause you have a great track record of listening to everything people tell you, don’t you, Grian?” Pearl scoffed.

“Guys,” Impulse said again.

“Are you gonna start now too, Pearl?” Grian said. “Because I don’t remember you doing much about the moon either!”

“I couldn’t hurt my moon cousin!”

“You literally watched when Mumbo tried to blow it up.”

“Well, it sure looks like it was coming to hurt us,” Mumbo said. “Also, did we ever set a place to meet back at? Pearl said Xisuma said we’re supposed to find a blank world, but did anyone ever get where we’re going?”

“I imagine that’s what our communicators are for,” Scar said.

“Guys,” Impulse said a third time, finally breaking into their argument. “Somethin’s wrong.”

“Yeah,” said Pearl. “We’re stuck here and nobody agreed on a way to get us out of here.”

Scar opened his mouth, ready to defend himself once again, but Mumbo cut him off. “No, uh–I think Impulse is right. Something’s wrong.” He drifted over in front of Impulse, and squinted. “Are you okay buddy?”

Impulse blinked. He wasn’t really looking directly at Mumbo, and instead appeared to be watching some point just above his shoulder. “I don’ think so,” he mumbled.

Grian, Pearl and Scar drifted closer. Impulse was breathing fast, quick sharp breaths that fogged up his helmet a little. “Guys, give him space,” Pearl said. “Let him breathe. You’ll freak him out some more and if he’s panicking then that’ll just make it worse.”

“He’s slurring his words,” Scar noted. “What’s going on? Impulse? Can you tell us?”

“My head hurts,” he said.

“Try to take deeper breaths,” Pearl said. “You’re gonna be alright.”

“I can’t,” Impulse said. He slowly lifted his arm, like maybe he was going to grab onto Pearl for support, but instead he did the one thing Grian didn’t expect: he started to remove his helmet.

They exploded into action–really, too many people in such a small space, with Mumbo shouting Don’t! while Pearl grabbed one of Impulse’s arms and Grian grabbed the other and yanked it downwards. Impulse’s fingers had moved too clumsily to keep up with his friends’, and Grian let out a hot breath when he realized that the helmet was still securely on.

Or was it?

“Why did he do that?” Pearl shouted, at the same time Grian gave the all clear that the helmet was still attached properly. “Impulse, that would have killed you!”

“Impulse?” Mumbo said. “What happened?”

Impulse looked at Mumbo almost like he’d forgotten he was there, despite Mumbo having been next to him this whole time. “Can’ breathe,” he said. “I need . . .” He reached for his helmet again, but Grian held down his arm. It didn’t take a lot of effort.

“He thinks he needs to take the helmet off,” Grian said. “He can’t breathe and he thinks that it’s obstructing him.”

“He’s confused,” Scar said. “He’s not getting enough oxygen. That’s why he’s not speaking right, why his head hurts, and why he’s not focusing on us properly.” He paused for a long second and took a deep breath. “I don’t have to tell you guys that this isn’t good.”

“Did you pack enough?” Mumbo said. “Oxygen, I mean? Our suits don’t have–they don’t have tanks. Oh my god,” he muttered, “we don’t have tanks . . .”

Scar frowned. “We don’t need them. The suit recycles the air. I know a thing or two about that and used it to make the design more compact.”

“How- It recycles carbon dioxide to air? Like a plant? In the void?” Grian asked, puzzled. He shook his head stiffly. “Doesn’t matter. It doesn't matter! He’s not getting enough oxygen. Is it broken? Is your weird device broken?”

“I don’t think it’s broken,” Pearl said, examining him. “I don’t think his exhaling is the problem. I think it’s the void. I think there’s a leak.”

“My suits don’t have leaks,” Scar answered immediately.

“Well maybe they do,” Grian said. “Clearly they do.” It came out harsher than he expected, and Scar flinched, eyes wide.

“Is it–a slow leak?” Mumbo said. “We've been down here an awfully long while.”

Grian remembered his rules of the void uneasily. While they’d been arguing earlier, they all drifted well beyond the normal point of no return. There was no more slow falling from the moon’s gravity, because they were no longer in any realm the moon could affect. They were in a part of the void nobody had ever seen except the creatures that lived here, because it killed everyone who passed through it. And as far as Grian knew, nobody in Boatem was a voidwalker.

There’s not many things with a 100% mortality rate. People survive falls with feather falling. People survive lava with potions of fire resistance. People survive viruses with medicine and vaccines. People survive drowning through water breathing potions and making pockets of air. But the void? It didn’t matter if you had wings or an elytra or potions or armor, if you fell too deep and passed that gradient to the point of no return, it killed you every time.

And death didn’t like to be cheated.

The void wants YOU. It wants to gnaw on the edges of you and run tendrils up through your nasal passages and dig its fingers into your lungs until you burn up from the inside out and die, leaving you body and all your possessions as a gift to the unknown.

“There must be a hole in his suit,” Grian said. “He’s being choked by the void. That’s what it does to you. It chokes you and suffocates you and burns you up on the inside.”

Scar looked horrified. “Check the seal of his helmet!” he cried. “It might be a bad seal.”

“You don’t think he managed to get it loose earlier?” Mumbo asked.

“No,” Grian said. “He didn’t. I think he’s been losing air for a while, letting the void in instead.”

Pearl was examining Impulse’s helmet, running her gloved fingers across the seal. Scar started rummaging through his pockets on the suit. “I think I . . . I think I have something to fix the seals,” he muttered. “If I can find it.”

“Please find it,” Mumbo said. He wrung his hands.

“Impulse?” Grian said. “Are you alright?”

There was a long pause and Grian almost thought he wasn’t going to respond at all. “I don’ wanna die,” he said after a moment.

“You’re not gonna die!” all the other Boatem members shouted at once.

“Can you keep talking to me?” Grian said.

Nothing.

“Impulse?” He peered through Impulse’s helmet, but Impulse didn’t make eye contact. The quick breaths had stopped and there was no more fog on the inside of his helmet. He just looked sleepy. They needed to work fast.

“Ugh!” Pearl said, and made some other noise Grian couldn’t have translated if he tried. “I can’t find anything! I thought I might be able to but I can’t feel a thing in these gloves.”

They all looked at Scar. He was quiet. “I can’t find the material to fix the seal,” he said softly, staring at the not-ground below them and refusing to look them in the eye. “I don’t know if it wouldn’t have worked in the void either. For all I know it would react somehow and dry up the moment it left the tube.”

Impulse’s side of the tether started to pull taut a little, and he suddenly sunk down.

“He’s not supporting his own weight anymore,” Grian said, feeling ice drip down his veins.

Pearl was supporting the back of his head from where she’d been trying to feel the edge of the seal. “He’s unconscious.” The words were loud and then fizzled, consumed in the thickness of the void. There was no echo here. It was just for the four of them to hear.

“I don’t have the material to fix the seal. We don’t know where the leak is. I made the suits faulty. I trapped us here,” Scar said vacantly.

“Is he going to die?!” Mumbo shouted hysterically.

“If he can’t breathe,” Pearl said. “We have to fix it.”

“He can just respawn, won’t he? Right? He can still respawn, right?”

“I don’t think he can,” Grian said quietly. “The void is shared in all worlds, right? We’ve fallen beyond our world’s void. We don’t belong to any world right now, we’re in the void’s realm. I don’t know what happens when you respawn out here. You don’t have a world to go back to. And if he did, who’s to say that our server is still intact and the moon hasn’t crashed by now?”

Where can you go, if there’s no place to go back to? Where do you go if you die in between worlds?

“He’s going to perma-die,” Scar said.

“Yeah. Maybe. I don’t know. I hope not,” Grian said, but the uncertainty wasn’t hopeful. It just dragged them further down like an anchor chained to his feet.

“We don’t have time to talk about this!” Pearl said. “We have to work fast! Even if we can save him, we can’t wait too long or it’ll cause brain damage.” Pearl pulled Impulse closer, clutching onto him. Maybe if she held tight enough, he’d stay. “If you have any ideas, please, we need them now.”

“I don’t- I don’t,” Scar repeated. Mumbo spun in place, like he’d find something other than the endless void around them to use and save the day.

Grian was frozen, like the ice that had dripped through his veins had finally rooted him to the spot and he couldn’t move. He couldn’t lose another friend. Not again, not again, not again.

Scar laid a hand on Grian’s arm and he was violently snapped back to the present. They were all on thin ice, and it was getting thinner and thinner as time moved forward. Cracking, ready to plunge Impulse into the icy depths where he’d drown. But Impulse was still here for now. He was going to die if he couldn’t get more oxygen. But he wasn’t dead yet.

He couldn’t lose him. And–maybe, for once, Grian could do something about it.

He reached deep within himself, and tried to pull out a power he’d nearly forgotten. Nearly, because for once the soul-sharing with Mumbo had paid off–he’d been forced to pull it out of dormancy, brush it off, and practice it just so Mumbo would know what Watchers were capable of. It was like a little tendril in his core, difficult to grasp but in clear focus now.

Watchers were creative beings, perhaps second only to their stated purpose of watching. They blessed the world with materials, and facilitated updates. They created towers and things and gave players items, be they good or bad. They had access to blocks normal players didn’t, and placed them as easily as they could manipulate the rest of the world’s building blocks.

And Grian had always been a builder, even before he’d been blessed with the Watchers’ creative ability and then rejected it once more. Maybe that’s why they liked him. It was a better reasoning than anything else he’d come up with.

But Grian wasn’t making a house right now, or an obelisk or a maze or trap like the Watchers would have. He had one simple goal in mind: create something, anything, to keep his friends safe in the void.

The answer came inelegantly in the strongest material his panicked mind could think of: a plain bedrock box. 5x5, for 5 people.

A thunk echoed through the small space as the last block slid in place, punctuated only by his own gasping breaths. Just like mining out a space underwater, there was a small pocket of air in here. Grian didn’t know how long it would last, but he wasn’t worried about the future. The sound of his friend breathing would be enough.

Pearl sank to the newly-present floor along with Impulse. With shaky hands, she yanked on the helmet clasp, pulling it free. There was no sound–for some reason, he thought that taking the helmet off should have made a hissing sound, but it didn’t. There wasn’t a proper seal to break, he supposed.

“Is he breathing?” Grian said.

“Yeah,” Pearl said. “He is.” She rested the front of her helmet on the top of Impulse’s head. The lighting in the room was dim and murky, throwing glare on the helmets and leaving the corners in thick shadows, but Grian thought her cheeks looked wet.

The lighting in the room was dim and murky. Grian realized abruptly that there was no light. No proper lighting. It was just him glowing–his eyes, his skin, the power glowing at his palms and still shining under the gloves.

Oh. He probably didn’t look human anymore. That’s alright though, wasn’t it? Because his friends were all here, in this box, and he could see them all and reach out and touch them if he wanted, and he could listen to them breathe because they were all alive.

He dropped to his knees, suddenly feeling very tired, and tried to put his head between his knees the best he could in his helmet.

Scar removed his helmet with a click and a hiss and–yeah, it probably wasn’t necessary anymore since they had air in this little box. “Is he okay?” he asked.

“I think he will be,” Pearl said. “He didn’t spend very long unconscious. He should wake up in a few moments.”

“And what if he-” isn’t, Scar started, before stopping. “Yeah. He’s going to be okay.”

Grian felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Are you okay?” Mumbo asked. And then, softly, “Thank you.”

“You’re safe now,” Grian whispered. He took in a shaky breath. “Can you . . . can you take some of it?” he asked. “The shelter. It’s hard to keep in place. You have half my powers now too; I’m not working at the capacity I could be. We have to share now.”

“Do you trust me?” Mumbo said. “What if I can’t hold it? What if I get us all killed?”

Grian chuckled and lifted his head to look Mumbo in the eye. Mumbo held his gaze. “It would be hard for you to do any worse than how we all almost got killed just then,” he said. He didn’t draw the distinction that only Impulse was in danger of death, because losing any member of Boatem might as well be the same as killing them all anyway. “Yeah. I do trust you.”

“How do I do it? You taught me, but this . . . this is different.”

Grian reached out and put his hand on Mumbo’s chest. The suits were thick, but he could still feel Mumbo’s heart hammering. He smiled, a little, at that. Proof of life. “Just . . . you should be able to feel my powers. We share it, yeah? It’s like a web, interconnected. Just add your own energy. I already made the blueprint, I just need some support.”

He felt Mumbo’s heart speed up, and then steady into a normal rhythm. Then it was like a weight was listed off him, but not quite–maybe it was a sense of being strengthened, or like someone taking your hand and helping you up off the ground. He’d never shared his powers with Mumbo before. He taught him, he demonstrated, Mumbo had used them, but they’d never actually been in sync with each other.

Mumbo’s eyes glowed a little too as he activated his powers. Purple. Grian didn’t think the color really suited either of them.

“Careful,” he murmured. “It’s harder than it looks to make this stupid little box. The void is . . . it wants to consume us. This bedrock doesn’t actually exist in our reality. I just created it out of nothing and it can just as easily vanish into nothing. And it’s really not supposed to be in the void. The void, er, knows that. So don’t drop it.”

“And if we do, then we die?”

“Then we die.”

“Well,” Mumbo said. “At least it’d be all five of us together, then.”

Across the tiny room, there was a sharp gasp. “He’s awake!” Pearl cried.

Impulse!

Mumbo and Grian scrambled to the other side of the room and crouched next to Impulse, Pearl, and Scar. Impulse eyes fluttered open, and then he screwed them back shut.

“Ugh,” he groaned.

“How do you feel?” Pearl asked.

“Like my head is split in two,” Impulse said. He opened his eyes again and coughed a few times. “Ouch, that hurts.”

“Nearly dying does that to you.”

Impulse sat up slowly, eyes shut again against the pain. “What happened?” he asked.

“You nearly suffocated,” Grian said. “Your suit had a slow leak and was letting the void in.”

Impulse opened his eyes and stared at the opposite wall for a moment, and then looked back at Grian. All his movements were slow. He squinted as they made eye contact, Grian’s eyes still glowing. “And then somehow . . . I’m here?”

“Grian saved us,” Pearl said, and then turned to Grian and threw her arms around his neck, helmet clonking his as she pulled him in for the hug. “Thank you,” she whispered.

When they pulled apart, Grian noticed Scar was staring at him and Mumbo. He was suddenly aware that neither Scar nor Impulse had ever seen him in any Watcher form. Immediately, that familiar anxiety stabbed him, but instead of bleeding out into a thick and all-consuming panic, it just stayed on the back of his neck, prickling him slightly. He normally might have cared more than this, but now Grian just felt like a wrung-out dish rag, drained and exhausted. If rain had existed in the void, he’d have been drenched from standing out in a downpour and dead on his feet.

“Dude,” Scar blurted out. “That was SO COOL!”

Grian blinked. “Uh.”

“I had no idea you could do that! And now you’re all glowing? And you created bedrock? And you saved Impulse’s life? That was amazing!”

“. . . Thanks?”

“This was you?” Impulse said.

Grian nodded.

Impulse rolled his eyes and shook his head, wincing as it exacerbated the pain. He punched Grian weekly in the shoulder. “Dude, I can’t believe you,” he said.

“Sorry-” Grian started automatically, but Impulse cut him off.

He continued: “I can’t believe you had the ability to manipulate bedrock this entire time and yet you always make me do it at the start of every season!”

Oh.

“That’s just because he’s lazy,” Pearl said confidently. “Why break it yourself when you can make someone else, eh Griba?”

“And I did it for free this season since we were all in Boatem together!” Impulse said. “Wow, I can’t believe this. You’ve just been scamming for bedrock breaking services this whole time.”

“It’s not just me doing this bedrock right now,” Grian defended feebly. “Mumbo’s helping.”

“Er, I suppose I kind of am, aren’t I?” Mumbo said.

“Yeah, what’s up with you two?” Scar asked. “I know you’re weird but you’re normally not this weird.”

“Hey-” Mumbo started.

“He stole my soul!” Grian said. “He tricked me into signing away my soul, and then he ATE it, and now he’s like this. Because I’m like this.”

“You’re not going to ever let me live that down, will you?”

“Nope.”

“Um, I’m out of the loop,” Impulse said. “What is ‘this’?”

“And what is soul eating?” Scar asked, eyes sharp and glinting with something unknown. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to tell Scar it was possible to steal people’s souls.

Grian took a deep breath. He was getting pretty good at explaining things now, wasn’t he? It was beginning to feel like a routine. Lay out what a Watcher is and what a Watcher does. Lay out why he’s one of them, and why he’s here instead of doing what they do. Perhaps lay out why Mumbo’s here too, and how that works. And avoid the question that inevitably gets asked, of why didn’t you say anything sooner?

“It’s-”

“‘This’ is something that is saving us right now,” Mumbo said. “And this is just Grian.”

“Yeah,” Grian said softly. “I’m just me.”

<< Chapter Nine | Masterpost | Chapter Eleven >>

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