#i have some dumb little sketches that i’m working on though so maybe i’ll be able to post those this week lol | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

horrorstolemyheart · 2 years

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Cliché

Notes: CLICHE AS FUCK! Hence the title. But I guess that's ok sometimes, definitely has a run of the mill person A and person B like each other but they both never act on it, Yada Yada yada... I know. But I'm in the process of dragging myself out of writers block. Also I hope this isn’t as bad as I think, a mixture of my first time writing for this character, and the fact that I’ve tweaked and re-read this fic so much that I’m starting to hate it a little. And this is the first thing I've written in a while. But I hope that it isn’t too messy lol.

Warnings: Cursing

Pairing(s): Eddie Munson x reader

Every damn time.

His heart skipped a beat when you joined the group of boys at lunch. The smile upon your lips made his face turn a shade of pink, not unnoticed by Jeff and Gareth. He felt a kick to the ankle from under the table and scowled. They were just two of the people who’d been trying to get him to ask you out for ages.

You were funny, smart, and one of the few people who didn’t think he was a freak. Eddie was head over heels.

“Gentlemen.” You greeted with a small bow.

He grinned, “Y/N.”

“Eddie” you always gave him a separate acknowledgement. Unknown to him, your heart also skipped that one beat upon seeing him. It was anything but subtle. Both completely entranced with the other and yet so oblivious to it.

All your friends knew that you and Eddie were smitten from the start. Gareth and Jeff poked fun at the Dungeon Master and he'd scrunch up his face, refusing the onslaught of teases. He wasn't even safe from the freshmen. Dustin, Mike, and Lucas had even had their fun with their fellow Hellfire Club member. You, on the other hand, had Steve and Robin to deal with at work. Both of whom were savvy to your crush on Eddie.

God, it was cliché. Which is probably why you ignored the feelings of attraction, it was a dumb high school crush. You were a senior and this would probably be the year he would graduate as well and then what? You'd both walk across the stage, accept your diplomas, and then maybe see each other a few times after graduation. So you made a promise you’d keep those feelings hidden. The fact that you even got to be friends with the guy was enough for you. Or that’s what you told yourself.

Most lunch periods you brought your sketchbook along. You'd been friends with Johnathan Byers which initially drew the four, now three, younger DnD players to you. And you were happy to turn their imagined scenes into a reality. Nowadays though, it was usually Dustin asking for sketches.

“Y/N! Ok, ok, so I have another request,” Dustin quipped as you pulled your sketchbook out.

“Yes, great artificer.”

Oh, and you were an incredible artist. Another reason the metal head was in love with you. You did wonders in bringing the scenes described to life. You may not have played the game, but as Dungeon Master, he had declared you an honorary Hellfire Club member. His explanation was that seeing the game played may spark some inspiration, obviously this was only part of the reason.

Lunch had flown by quickly. Students began packing up their stuff just before the bell rang, signaling everyone back to their classes. Back to the droning of teachers' lectures and scanning through textbooks.

Dustin glanced over your shoulder at his drawing in progress, which you covered up.

“Ah, ah! Patience is a virtue young man,” you smirk, “I’ll have it to you in a day or two.”

“Alright, alright. I can’t wait, I know it’s gonna be awesome! See ya later , Y/N!” With that the boy ran to catch up with Mike.

You began to place your sketchbook back into your bag, and double checked you had all your effects in order. The seat opposite you creaked as Eddie sat down gently. It was clear he wanted something.

“Alright, spit it out," you inquire, letting out a snicker, "I can tell you wanna say something, you’re terrible at hiding it.”

“I just… wanted to say that I think you’re an amazing artist." Eddie pressed his lips into a thin line.

“Um, thank you. I’m not that good, but that means a lot Eddie,” You turn to face him square on, “But let’s cut the bullshit. What do you want?”

“Bullshit? No, I mean it, Y/N, every word!" anxiously, he fiddles with his rings, "Sooo… I was just wondering…”

You nod for him to go on.

“Well. um, would you possibly… I dunno,” he pauses and a blush begins to grow on his face, “If you would possibly design a tattoo for me?”

It takes a moment to set in, and you have to admit you’re a bit shocked, “R-really?”

Studying his face it was easy to tell the shaggy-haired boy was being serious. Eddie was, afterall, a man of his word. With that you decided to push the envelope a bit. After a moment you stood up as if to leave, catching Eddie off guard. Draping your bag over your shoulder, you tap your chin in mock contemplation over the request.

“Hm, I don’t know. It’ll cost you…” Eddie stood up as well, desperate to hear what you had in mind.

“What? Dustin doesn't have to pay, but I do?”

"No, no. I'm not asking for money. I’ll design you a tattoo," drawing out a pause for effect, all your promises to yourself flew out the window.

"If you take me on a date.”

Those words had spilled out before they could be stopped. Fuck. Desperately you tried to save yourself from further humiliation.

"Shit. Uh, y-you know, that was a joke right? I just, uh… I wanted to...” The act was over before it had begun. How could you be so stupid? The thudding of your heart could be heard in your ears.

Eddie’s eyes widened, "Wait... you really want me to take you on a date?"

"Eddie, please don't fuck with me. Look, just forget it, ok? I don't need anything in return for a drawing." the only thing on your mind was salvaging a possibly ruined friendship.

His face was sympathetic, "Sounded like a win-win situation, if I’m being honest. But, I'd love to take you out, Y/N. I just… never knew if you’d want to go out with me.” It was clear he was just as nervous to admit his feelings as you’d been.

"God, you don’t know how relieved I am. I’ve wanted to go out with you since we met! But it just felt so cliche. I figured it'd probably turn out as one of those situations where you didn't reciprocate and then I would have ruined our friendship and–"

"Y/N. You talk too much."

Eddie’s gaze shifted between you and the exit door. Grabbing your hand, he yanked you along with him.

“C’mon.”

"Eddie, where the hell are you taking me?"

"Uh, on a date?"

"You're gonna skip school to take me out? I thought you wanted to graduate this year?"

"I've been a good boy. I've been coming to school, one day won't stop me."

"Plus," he turns to face you, eyes gleaming, "You are much more important."

You give in, “Mm… fine.”

"Just remember you owe me some new ink for this date, and for making me ditch school,"

This earned him a smack on the arm with the hand currently not being held.

"Oh, haha! More like making me ditch school!" You both try to suppress the giggles as you rush out the exit doors. And all it took was him asking for a drawing. Your friends were not going to let either of you live this down.

#I was so nervous to post this #But this is like the fourth draft of this 😭#Probably not my best work lol #But I hope it's still a cute fun read #Eddie Munson x reader #Stranger Things

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magicline · 2 years

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Yumekuro • Adel (Rainbow-coloured Wedding Road) Moon Route Meister Story Translation Part 3/3 (with Story CG Spoiler)

(A/N): It is recommended to read the story with in-game voiced lines ! Beware of spoilers and enjoy reading ^_^

⚠️ STRICTLY NO REPOSTS !

Those Who Spend Time By Being On Each Other’s Side.

I’ve been sitting quietly on the couch while embroidering, only eating when it’s time to eat—

While spending a peaceful day off next to Adel-san’s side, I just noticed it was getting dark outside.

Emma : It’s done…!

Emma : (It’s not quite as good as Adel-san’s… though in my own way, I think I’ve done a pretty good job.)

Adel : Now, let me see it.

Adel : … Hm. You seem to have some dexterity there.

Emma : Really?

Adel : I’m telling you it’s right there. What a proud face you have.

Emma : I’m just happy Adel-san complimented me on my work.

Emma : This time around, it’s good to have someone like you as the role model.

Adel : You may flatter me, but I won’t teach you anything.

Emma : Okay, I’ll continue to be diligent in this.

Employee : —Adel-sama, I apologise for interrupting you.

Employee : About the arrangements of packages that are going to be sent to Adel-sama’s workshop, I need you to check something with me…

Adel : Okay, I’ll be there in a minute.

*Adel leaves*

Emma : (Adel-san, I never thought I’d have such a peaceful time with you.)

Emma : (Besides he’s always busy too…)

Emma : Fuwah…

I was more relaxed now that I was alone, or maybe I’m just so tired for the past few days that I’ve been having a hard time getting through the day.

*screen fades into black*

Emma : (…Did I, did I fell asleep?)

When I half-raised my body in a daze, a blanket that was covering me fell on the sofa with a light thud.

Adel : You’re finally awake.

Emma : …Yeah. Good morning, Adel-san.

Emma : The blanket, did Adel-san put it on me while I was asleep?

Adel : It’s going to be troublesome if you catch a cold.

Emma : Fufu. Thank you so much.

Adel : Hmph… “Say bedtime greetings to each other before heading to bed” was it not?

Emma : Ah…

The teasing tone in his voice, it reminded me of the two rules we created together.

Emma : I didn’t intent on heading to bed yet.

Adel : Hmph, I wonder why.

Adel : I’m not sure which one of us is the chaperone at this point, I guess we’ll never know.

Emma : (It’s frustrating I have nothing to say it back…)

Attempting to change the topic, I glanced down and decided to browse over Adel-san’s sketchbook.

Emma : Wah, what a beautiful dress… Is this part of your “creative hobby”?

Adel : Sort of.

Adel : I was watching you lying there with a dumb look on your face, and suddenly I gained inspiration from it.

Adel : Before I forget, I had to sketch it down to a design.

Emma : Huh?

Adel-san’s sketch was a wedding dress, no matter how you look at it.

I’ve been thinking of Adel-san’s words meaning that he got inspired by watching me sleep.

Adel : If you like it, I’ll make it for you someday.

Emma : !

Adel-san who has always been particular on his work, would never create a dress based on somebody else’s image.

Looking at it again, I felt that the model depicted on the drawing looked somewhat like me.

To have Adel-san create a wedding dress for me, I couldn’t help but felt honored but…

Perhaps after sensing my confusion, Adel-san slowly puts down the pencil she had slid down on her sketchbook.

Adel : … About marriage, I told you I never had the chance to think about it in a specific way.

Adel : After I had an opportunity to spend some time with you, it has also given me a chance to revise my values a little bit.

Adel : In light of the past week, I’ve been thinking about the image of a marriage I would like to have, and I’ve shaped it in my own way.

Adel : How about you, are you able to picture it a little better?

Emma : (… Glad to hear it.)

Emma : … I think so. If I ever get to wear the most beautiful wedding dress, I would be the happiest bride ever.

Adel : I doubt it. You and I are only humans.

Adel : Even during the ceremony I was thinking about work, and because of what was happening, I would run off somewhere else if I could.

Emma : I don’t care even if I’m in Adel-san’s workshop. As you can imagine, do you think we would run around the ceremony?

Adel : Huh, don’t worry. For easy leg movement, the silhouette will be designed accordingly.

Enjoying the light-hearted conversations that follows, I imagined the future (wedding dress) based on Adel-san’s design.

Emma : Adel-san— No, nevermind.

Adel : ? What, I didn’t hear you.

Adel : It’s okay. I’m guessing you haven’t gotten sleepy yet? I’ll come up with a design in another direction.

As Adel-san ran his pencil on the sketchbook again, I stared at him in silence.

Emma : (Adel-san, did you come up with this dress’ idea in anticipation of who would be standing next to me?)

An image of a certain person that came into my mind, and I wished the person is the same just like me—

Finished.

(A/N): If there are misspellings, mistranslations etc. please let me know and excuse me. 🙏

Next : Sun Route Meister Story Translation Part 1

Prev. chapter : Moon Route Part 2

#dream meister and the recollected black fairy #yumekuro #ymkr #yumekuro translations #ymkr translations #ymkr tl #yumekuro adel #ymkr adel

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ursaspecter · 3 years

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“Me, my future, I’m inevitable.”

Here’s my full redesign of Dark Danny/Dan Phantom! I thought I would explain more of my changes here since I didn’t really do that in the post with just the sketches.

-I kept the coveralls that I gave to Danny, but now the sleeves have been torn off as well as his little logo. I would have gone a little bit further roughing him up, but I still wanted him to be easy to draw so... That’s all I wanted to do lmao.

-I gave him regular hair instead of fire hair. If I’m being quite honest, I never really liked the look of Dan’s fire hair in the original design. Maybe if it were all fire I would feel different, but mostly the fact that some of it is tied in a ponytail and not on fire bothers me. So I gave him a mullet instead. I tried making his hair wavy to make it at least look like fire, but fire it is not.

-Nixed the cape and instead gave him a bandana. I think I sort of explained this in my sketch post, but I’ll say it again here. Since Dan is Danny’s ghost half and Vlad’s ghost half merged, I still wanted to include some elements from Vlad. Now, he still has the goatee, but for this design, adding a cape would probably just make him look dumb and not intimidating at all. (And personally I always thought Dan’s cape was a little dumb but eh) When I redesigned Vlad, I gave him an ascot, so I thought giving Dan a bandana would allude to that.

There’s also a little extra detail I added last minute, so it wasn’t in the sketches I posted, but I won’t give it away. It should be easy to find though, and hopefully my reasoning for adding it is obvious enough to figure out.

Program used: Clip Studio Paint Reblogs > Likes! ID Under the cut!

[ID: A digital drawing of the character Dark Danny/Dan Phantom from the show Danny Phantom. Dan has a white mullet, pale green skin with faded freckles, pointed ears, red eyes with dark eye bags underneath, a white goatee, and two fangs poking out of his mouth that’s pulled into a smirk. He is wearing black coveralls with a white collar and torn off sleeves, a red bandana around his neck, a white belt, and white work boots. There is a piece of blue fabric with dried blood tied around his left wrist. /END ID]

#my art #fanart #digital art #danny phantom #dark danny #dan phantom #yes i still gave him freckles bc frick u #i guess u could say that it's still how he's still holding on to the past like how even after 10 years he's still wearing the same clothes #and u wouldnt be wrong...#but i really just gave him freckles bc my danny will ALWAYS have freckles #whether he's evil or not #also yes that is jazz's headband on his wrist.#if you figured it out on your own u can have a cookie #a treat from me to you

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afriendlyblackhottie · 3 years

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Alone Together

Summary: After an awful breakup you were expecting to spend Christmas alone. You and Steve end up spending it together.

Pairings: tattoo artist!Steve Rogers x Sam Wilson sister!reader. Abusive ex boyfriend!Brock Rumlow x reader

Warning: mentions of abusive relationship, smut, swearing, daddy kink, squirting, creampie, unprotected sex

Tagging: @titty-teetee @blackmissfrizzle @olyvoyl @liquorlaughslove @harrysthiccthighss @mariahthelioness29 @whiskey-cokenfanfic @olyvoyl @hqneyyincc @queenoftheworldisdead @iam-laiya @donutloverxo @slytherinandoutasgard @zaddychris @brattycherubwrites @love-more122

(A/N: yay I made it! Merry Christmas guys! Reblog always 💜 ✌🏾)

——————————————————————————

Okay yeah so it was stupid. You should have known better when you’d done it. Well, you did you just... well you don’t really know what you were thinking.

Red flags just look like flags when you’re wearing rose colored glasses, yeah fuck off you stole that from Bojack. So when you were with your ex and doing all this dumb just you thought would make him happy it ended up being kind of awful in the end.

When they finally came off you noticed the things you dealt with. Scared to piss him off so you started treating okay times like they were really good. All the stupid things he had you do to prove yourself.

You were paying for this one right now. Right in another parlor. Covering up that mistake with something you actually liked. Not that most people could see it because it was on your underboob. Said he wanted it to be this hidden thing all for him that no one else was allowed to see.

The first time he asked you’d laughed and said no thinking it was a joke. The second time you it happened you tried to be a little more firm. Except that just meant you couldn’t prove your love for him. That you were devoted. That he’d get a tattoo for you on his arm that he never had time to get for some reason.

It was so fucking dumb you know. The cursive Brock tattooed right under your boob. You could see it every time you took your shirt off and it really bothered you. It always had, but you were trying to convince yourself that you loved him before. Now you looked at it and saw the new of a person you wished you’d never even met.

Steve was your older brother’s best friend. He ran this super popular tattoo shop. They’d met in the military and the friendship just stuck. It’s kind of why you ended up moving to New York. You were kind of the outcast of the family, but Sam never treated you any different. You were his baby sister.

So after a few weeks you asked him if he could cover it up. Except his only available day was Christmas Eve. You didn’t go home anyway and Sam was going to meet his girlfriend’s parents this year. Not that you weren’t invited, but you just wanted this thing covered up. Maybe that would make you forget.

You winced as the needle dug into your skin. Not like it wasn’t worth the pain. “Hey, relax, okay,” he said, softly rubbing your arm. He’d been so much help since the breakup. It was funny. Brock hated him. Was always ranting about what an asshole he is. You could tell he didn’t like your brother either. You really didn’t know what but you knew it was something over their friend Bucky or whatever.

Yeah it was a whole thing. Not that you really knew the details.

Normally you’d spend the holidays with his family. Though a little uncomfortable it was nice being with him. So this was your first year in three that you were alone. Hanging with Steve was nice.

“I’m fine,” you were trying to keep a brave face.

He was almost done. Just had to finish up the shading. Honestly you’d been expecting him being that close to you to feel weird, but it was actually nice. It’d just be nice if you didn’t date another tattoo artist.

Yeah Brock also tattooed. He’d met Steve because they’d worked at the same shop once. You remember how Brock was seething when he found out that Steve had opened his own.

You wish you could go back in time and tell Leila to never go into that damn shop. To never ask you to go with her because she was nervous for her first tattoo. Somehow it ended up with Brock promising you a discount if you let him tattoo you if you gave him your number. Being a cliche you got a butterfly on your shoulder.

Somehow it didn’t bother you as much. Maybe because it didn’t look like anything resembling him.

“You sure? We can take a break,” he offered.

You shook your head. “No. I’m okay.” You chuckled with a smile.

He chuckled before clicking his tongue. “Alright. Tell me if you want me to stop.”

“How’s your mom’s trip?” You asked. His mother had decided to vacation to Hawaii with his step-dad. Which is also why he was here. Not that he couldn’t have went with Nat and Bucky to his parent’s house. Except last time he’d done that, he ended up having to sleep next to Bucky’s incredibly touchy aunt. He was better off spending it alone.

“She’s great. Talked to her this morning.” He chuckled, “apparently she’s bringing me back a Hawaiian shirt.”

“You could pull it off.” You replied trying not to laugh too much.

“You think so?” He asked.

“Yeah just keep it unbuttoned and don’t wear a shirt under.”

He stopped to laugh. “What’s that supposed to mean.”

“I dunno. Just doing a service for the girls,” you said. “Don’t act like you don’t know that you’re cute.”

He licked his lips, narrowing his eyes. “Why Miss. Wilson, you’re not flirting with me are you?”

You laughed and shook your head. “No. Just... stop. You know you’re hot.”

His jaw dropped as he grin. “Now you think I’m hot?”

You sighed dramatically. “Look, Steve. I’m just joking.”

He went back to work with this kind of goofy look on his face. You couldn’t deny it. Steve is hot. Anyone with eyes could see that. Your eyes traced along his tattooed forearms. The sleeves of his flannel pushed up to elbows. Until you were distracted by his broad shoulders.

Your mind finally started to relax. Kind of enjoying the buzzing of the gun. You kind of missed that sound you loved going to the shop with a Brock while he worked.

Your only days off were weekends and since he usually had shit to do on those days, you’d be there while he worked. Sometimes even helping out when their secretary was out.

“And, done,” he said taking a deep breath and smiling down at his work before turning off the machine. “How you feelin?’” He grabbed your hand to help you to your feet.

“Well, a little sore, but good.”

You turned to look at it. Smiling at the flowers that were there now. “It’s beautiful,” you said, looking at Steve before throwing your arms around his neck. “Thank you so much.”

“Hey,” he pulled away to rub your arms, “I got you.”

He was so close, eyes trained on your lips. So you started wondering maybe this was why Brock hated Steve. Saw how magnetic he was that he could definitely pull you in.

That couldn’t have been it, though. Brock never saw you with him alone. His dislike went much deeper than you. Today had kind of added insult to injury. Not only did you cover up that thing, but he was the one to do it. It’d be a slap in the face.

Maybe that’s why you did it. Except you’d always liked Steve’s work. You’d seen so many pieces he did or sketches he made and had wanted him to work on you for the longest. Maybe next time it would be something you didn’t need to cover up.

Your phone went off and you groaned softly pulling away. “Hey, Sam,” you greeted your brother. Of course it had to be him of all people.

Looking back over at his best friend who was cleaning up the station now. It was probably a good thing because your heart had started to thump in your chest. You didn’t need that.

You raised your shirt up so you could see it finally. “Just calling to check up on you. Steve’s lazy ass taking a break? I don’t hear buzzing in the back.”

“We just finished actually.” You laughed.

“How’d it come out?”

“Good,” you answered. “Tell Maya I said hi.”

You finished talking to Sam before finally hanging up. When you finally looked at your new tattoo, a smile grew on your face. It looked so much better than before. “Like it?” Steve asked.

“I love it,” you replied. You grabbed your bag so you could pay him.

“Um, excuse me, Miss,” he said. “Your money is no good here.”

“What? I’m not going to have you do all this work and not pay you, Stevie.”

He sighed. “Think of it as a Christmas present.”

You rolled your eyes still taking your money out. “I can’t-“

“I’m not taking it,” he pressed.

“Fine at least let me give you a tip.”

“I’m not taking that either.” He smirked.

You rolled your eyes. For such a nice boy he was always so stubborn. “Fine. Then... dinner. I’ll make dinner. If we’re spending Christmas alone then it might be fun to spend it together.”

He smiled softly. “Yeah... that sounds nice.”

“Great.” You looked into his eyes again. They were like the prettiest blue ever. Especially with those little specks of green.

After a trip to the store, he escorted you back to the apartment you shared with your brother. You could have moved out, but you were kind of afraid to live alone. That’s why Sam had been a little surprised that you’d declined the invitation to go with him. It was nice to have Steve there.

You’d decorated the apartment even though you hadn’t planned to do anything. You still wanted to be a little festive. Maybe it would pull you into a better mood. It worked a little.

You quickly started on dinner. Steve helped by cutting up vegetables. He’d taken off his sweater letting his incredibly muscular tattooed arms taunt you. Okay so yeah you had a little bit of a crush on him. Like a lot of other women, you just liked to look.

“Thanks for dinner,” Steve said, taking a sip of his wine. “I don’t get home cooked meals a lot.”

“Can’t cook?” You asked with a smirk.

“Yeah I’m pretty hopeless at it.” He shrugged.

“So do you want to watch Christmas movies after this?” You asked.

He laughed. “Yeah that’d be nice.”

The night was going by kind of quick as you settled down to watch A Christmas Story. You were a little tipsy honestly, but you and Steve were sharing a fluffy blanket. Which meant he was close.

You’d carefully showered so you didn’t get your tattoo wet and changed into a sweater shirt and s pair of matching shorts. Getting all bundled up so you could curl up beside him. “You look so warm.” He chuckled as he got a little closer.

“Do you need an extra blanket?” You asked.

“No I’m okay,” he replied.

“Can I ask you something?” You asked because the thought had crossed your mind again. This time you’d finally worked up the nerve to ask.

“Why don’t you and Brock like each other?” You asked.

He sighed. “You’re not the first person I’ve had to save from him. He and Bucky used to be close and I noticed him kind of spiraling. Rumlow was pumping him full of all of these drugs and I dunno I didn’t want to lose my friend.”

Your stomach started to turn. This was the first time you’d ever heard of any of this. “Why didn’t any of you tell me?”

“I wanted to, but Sam said we needed to let you make your own mistakes. To not push you away. There were so many times that I thought about... look I just know that I’m never letting him hurt you again. Okay?”

You nodded, biting your lip. This glazed over look in your eyes. Steve noticed and pulled you closer pretty much placing you in his lap.

“Hey, it’s okay, Honey.” He rubbed your back. Trying to at least comfort you a little.

“No I’m fine,” you replied leaning into him. The soft fabric of his jeans rubbed against your bare legs. It was nice to have him comfort you like this. “You know I think the worst thing to me is that and I’m sorry if this is too much information, but he’d use Sam against me. Say that if I didn’t do what he wanted he’d tell Sam about the things we did in bed.”

Steve sighed. “You know he wouldn’t have cared.”

“I know, but it still felt embarrassing. He knew how secretive I was about it. None of my friends even know the kind of things I’m into.” You took a deep breath, trying to relax because you felt way more tense than you wanted to.

He chuckled. Trying to lighten the mood. “I get it. I used to be the same way until my last girlfriend put it all out there when we broke up.”

You laughed. “Oh yeah I remember that.”

“Yeah. She was something else.” He tossed his head back as he laughed. “One night she came to the shop, talking about how she’d let me tie her up one more time.”

“Brock used to say stuff like ‘come on, Babygirl, do what Daddy says or else I’ll tell your brother what you’re up to.’ It used to grate on my nerves.”

“God. What a fucking asshole,” he said, hoping you didn’t notice when he felt himself get suddenly hard at hearing you say that.

“Yeah, but I’m so glad this thing is covered.”

“Yeah. Glad I could help,” he said with smile. “Shit do you mind actually if I take a picture of it? For Instagram.”

You nodded. “Yeah that’s fine.”

He took his phone out of his pocket while you laid down across his lap, rolling your sweatshirt up so that it was exposed. “Perfect,” he said as he snapped the picture the flash making you close your eyes all tight, making you move your hand so you could rub your eye.

Making your entire breast become exposed. “Shit,” you said, pushing it back down as you sat back up. Your eyes connected to his again and that’s when he kissed you.

You didn’t hesitate to do it back. Your mouth moving against his ever so softly. Like the two of you were afraid to really do what you want, but also didn’t want to pull away. Until he finally started to deepen it.

You stroked his beard as he held onto you tightly. You came to straddle his lap as he cupped your ass. He started to lay you back.

Your phone interrupted you, making you jump away. You scrambled to pick it up. “Hello?”

“Hey. Just checking on you,” Sam’s voice came through.

“Oh. I’m fine, Sam.” You took looked over at Steve who closed his eyes and stood up.

“Is Steve with you?”

“Yeah he walked me home,” you said. “Actually I have to go I’m going to shower.”

“Okay. Text me before bed.”

“Okay.”

Steve was gathering up his things to leave by the time you got off your phone. You watched him move around. He shrugged his coat on. “I’m just gonna head out.”

“Yeah...” you pursed your lips.

He licked his lips. “I, um, I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me... I-“

“No. It’s okay,” you replied taking a deep breath. “I’ll walk you out.”

He nodded. “Okay.”

You watched as he walked away heading towards the elevator. You still couldn’t believe that happened. Lips tingling from the way he kissed you. Apart of you was cursing Sam from ruining your moment.

Another part of you was kind of happy that he did because as much as you hated it, Brock still had this hold over you. It wasn’t that you felt guilty. It was more like you were afraid of what would happen if he found out.

God, you wish he didn’t have this hold on you. You were starting to close the door when Steve came back. This time he didn’t stop himself as he kissed you. Or picked you up, kicking the door shut behind him. Didn’t stop himself as he carried you to your room.

He laid you down on your bed, getting on top of you. You wrapped your legs around his waist. Trying to be as close to him as possible. Fuck he felt so good on top of you.

Scratching at his muscular shoulders. He pulled your top off first. Exposing your tits. His mouth went to them as he tried to avoid your tattoo. He swirled his tongue around your nipple.

You whimpered, biting your lip as you looked down at him. He’d switched to the other one to give it the same treatment. “So fucking beautiful.” He started kissing down your body so he could take off your shorts and panties. He kissed along your thighs, still looking into your eyes as he parted them.

Before he could put his mouth on your pussy, he went back up. Kissing you again. “Is this okay?” He asked resting his forehead to yours.

You nodded, reaching out so you could start undoing the buttons of his flannel. He helped you, pressing his lips to yours again. This time he put his tongue in your mouth.

Kissing him was different than Brock. Steve’s lips seemed to mold with yours better. There was this feeling in the pit of your stomach that felt like it was about to burst, but like you wanted it to. You really shouldn’t be comparing them, but Steve was making you feel so good and you were kicking yourself from having missed out on this as you wasted your time.

He pushed his shirt off his body then undid his pants. Sliding them down his legs along with his underwear. He got back on top for you, kissing your neck. Leaving little nibbles and sucking on your skin like he knew your body already. “Daddy,” you cried out, then sat up when you realized what you said opening your mouth to apologize.

“Oh yeah, Baby. You want me to be your daddy?” He asked, going back between your legs. “Want to be a dirty girl for me only?”

You nodded suddenly feeling drunk off of his words. Never did you think in a million years that Steve would be talking to you like this. He was getting you so wet just from that. He started licking your clit first.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he feasted on you. Pussy juices making a mess on his beard. “Yes,” you gasped out as he started to finger you at the same time.

That same bursting feeling in your stomach was getting intense. You cried out for him as you felt yourself reach your peek. You grabbed his hair, grinding your pussy against his face.

You took a deep breath as you tried to sit up, but he put a hand on your stomach to hold you still. “I’m not done.” He growled. “Hold still while Daddy makes you cum, Honey.”

You nodded bracing yourself as he went back to eating you out. It didn’t take long for him to bring you to another orgasm or another one after that. When he was done he kissed you, making you taste your juices on him.

As you made out again he went back to rubbing your cunt. “I’m gonna make you feel so good,” he said. “Gonna make you cum over and over again. Gonna take care of you.”

“Oh god yes,” you whimpered.

“Fuck I don’t have any condom,” he said, as he’d started to line himself up with your entrance.

“It’s okay,” you said. “I’m on birth control.”

He licked his lips. “Yeah?”

You nodded. “Yeah. I want you so bad, Daddy.”

He grinned as he kissed you softly. “I want to know your safe word first, Honey. Just in case.”

“Strawberry.”

He kissed your forehead, then your nose, and then your lips. He pushed into you as your tongues came into contact. Your tongues carassing against each other.

You stretched around him and you started to understand why he’d spent so much time eating you out. Fuck he was thick. You stretched around him looking into his eyes. “It’s okay,” he whispered into your lips. “I’ve got you.”

“It’s too much!” You cried.

“You can take it, Honey,” he kissed you again. “Be a good girl and take Daddy’s dick.”

He started fucking into you a little harder. You could feel yourself leaking around his dick. He’d really worked you up first even if he was still too damn thick for your pussy.

You scratched his back, biting his shoulder. He was thrusting so deep. You don’t think you’d ever been fucked this deep before. You’d definetly never been stretched open like this.

“Right there! Don’t stop!” You begged as he started fucking into your spot. “I’m fucking cumming!”

“That’s it, Honey. Cum for me.” He groaned because your pussy was so tight. Especially as you came. You were tightening around him and if he wasn’t so determined to give you a few more he would have let go inside of you.

“Oh, fuck, Daddy!” You cried. He didn’t let up. Fucking you through it.

“Nasty girl, squirting for me,” he said getting on his knees so he could watch you.

“Oh god!” You didn’t stop. Your pussy gushing around him. He bent your legs back with his hands on the back of your thighs. Watching his cock all slick anytime he’d pull out only to push back into you.

He chuckled as it happened again. Your eyes all clouded over as you came again just like that last time. More juices squirting out of you.

“Please,” you said, but didn’t know why.

“What do you want me to do, Baby?” He asked.

You couldn’t say anything back because you were to far gone. Thoughts had officially left your head. All you knew was him and the he was fucking you so damn good. Still pressing into your spot.

“Fuck you’re gonna make me cum,” he hissed, getting back on top of you with his bicep wrapped around your thigh so he could keep you spread open. He kissed you again this time deeper. Fucking your mouth with his tongue.

You moaned into him and thrusts became to falter as he started to pump you full of his cum. He thrusted into you deep as he gave you every bit of it. Wanting to completely fill you up with him.

He laid on top of you trying to catch his breath. You were panting underneath him. Not even wanting him to move because he was so warm. You buried your head into his neck.

It took you a minute to come down from your highs. He smiled down at you, kissing you softly. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

“You okay? I didn’t hurt you did I?”

You shook your head, already closing your eyes because you were so comfortable like this. “I’m great.”

He chuckled. “That’s what I like to hear.”

You smiled lazily as he finally rolled off of you. He brought you close to him, kissing your nose again. “Stay with me.”

“There’s literally no other place I’d rather be,” he said.

You’d spent all night messing around. Taking little cat naps in between. Right now he had you on your stomach as he fucked you from behind. You never expected to spend your holiday with him, but now you couldn’t picture spending it with anyone else.

You hadn’t even thought about your ex and the meltdown he’d have if he knew about this. It was nice feeling so free. Especially as Steve’s tattooed arms wrapped around you from behind.

Hints of daylight had started to break through the slits of your curtain. He chuckled. “Merry Christmas,” he whispered into your ear as he didn’t even let up the way he was fucking into you.

“Merry Christmas, Daddy,” you whimpered.

He kissed the back of your shoulder. “Gonna spend Christmas letting me make you my girl?”

You nodded trying to peek up at him over your shoulder with a smile. “Your girl?”

“After this I’m not letting you go,” he said, kissing your cheek from behind. “We might need to make this a tradition.”

“I like the sound of that.”

#Steve Rogers smut #Chris Evans smut #steve rogers x black!reader #Steve Rogers x reader #Steve Rogers x Wilson sister #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x black women #chris evans x black!reader #Chris Evans x reader

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timelesslords · 3 years

Text

baby, just say yes

Read on Ao3

Summary:

“Okay, then. Marry me.”

Annabeth waited a beat before rolling over to stare at him. His face was dead serious, but Annabeth still thought he might be messing with her.

“What?” she asked. It seemed the safest thing to say.

“Marry me.” he said, again, simply.

Annabeth never appreciated New Rome as much as she did on Sunday mornings.

They didn’t have class, homework could wait until later, there was no chance of a monster attack, and, best of all, Annabeth didn’t have to get up at the crack of dawn to slip out of the Poseidon cabin before anyone noticed she had spent the night. She and Percy could just lounge around together and be lazy for half the day, before one of them finally got up and made breakfast.

It was starting to get a little late, but Annabeth couldn’t bring herself to get out of bed. It was comfortable and Percy was there. Plus, they were deep into a discussion about the architecture of the city, which only made Annabeth happier and more unwilling to move.

There was one temple in particular that Annabeth had only seen photos of, but it looked incredible. It was Juno’s, which was unfortunate, because Annabeth would really love to sketch the ceilings for her design class.

“We should go see it,” Percy said, “It sounds amazing.”

“I wish,” Annabeth sighed, “But Juno loves to torture me. Nobody can go in unless they’re married.”

“Okay, then. Marry me.”

Annabeth waited a beat before rolling over to stare at him. His face was dead serious, but Annabeth still thought he might be messing with her.

“What?” she asked. It seemed the safest thing to say.

“Marry me.” he said, again, simply.

“Are you being serious?”

“Why wouldn’t I be serious?”

“Uhh, I don’t know,” Annabeth said sarcastically, starting to count out reasons on her fingers, “We’re barely 21, we’re not even done with college, we’ve barely even lived together—”

“We’ve known each other since we were 12, college is dumb, and we’ve made it two months living together and we’ve barely had any problems, so—” Percy said, folding each of Annabeth’s fingers down with each rebuttal.

“College is not dumb.” Annabeth countered. It was his weakest argument, but unfortunately it was also her lamest reason.

“Okay, fine, college isn’t dumb,” Percy said, waving his hand dismissively, “but waiting to get married because we’re still in college is dumb. It’s not like we haven’t experienced the real world or whatever, we’ve been doing that since we were kids.”

“Yeah, but that real world is different than like, being an adult, with a real job and a real apartment and bills and—”

“How could that be harder than fighting in two wars and literally crawling through hell?” Percy asked, only he was grinning now, because he knew he had her. She hit him with a pillow in retaliation, and he laughed.

“You’re impossible,” she said, trying to sound mad, but it wouldn’t quite come out angry.

“You just don’t like that I’m out-logicing you,” Percy said, a little smug.

“You are not out-logicing me,” Annabeth huffed.

“Okay, give me one good reason why we shouldn’t get married, then,” he said. That dead-serious look was back on his face. Annabeth would have preferred him to be smug.

“Well, first of all, you don’t have a ring. What kind of lame proposal is that?” Annabeth said, knowing she was just stalling for time.

“Who says I don’t have a ring?” Percy asked, straight-faced. The look on Annabeth’s face must have been extraordinarily panicked, because he sighed, looking defeated.

“I don’t actually have a ring ‘Beth. You can put off your heart attack.”

“Oh thank gods,” Annabeth sighed, covering her eyes with her hands. That really would have been too much too soon.

“But I can get you a ring, so that’s really a non-issue,” Percy continued, undeterred, “Next reason.”

“Everyone’ll think I’m pregnant,” Annabeth grumbled, hands still over her eyes. That made Percy laugh.

“They’ll just assume that we’re crazy for each other and also madly in love,” Percy said.

“And also that you knocked me up,” Annabeth added, moving her hands to her forehead and looking over at Percy.

“In which case it would be my fault, and we would share the embarrassment equally,” Percy said easily, grinning.

“That’s not even how it works,” Annabeth complained, “It would be way more embarrassing for me. Even though it's not true.”

“We can print ‘Annabeth is not pregnant’ on the wedding invitations,” Percy said, because it was his turn to make her laugh.

“Yeah, that’ll shut up the rumors,” Annabeth said, trying to ignore how the thought of wedding invitations made her stomach turn.

“Okay, I concede that pregnancy rumors are at least half-way a valid reason. But I’m going to need at least one more,” Percy said.

“At least?” Annabeth protested, “Is my potential humiliation not enough for you?”

“Mm. Not quite. I’m sharing at least 25% of the embarrassment, so it cancels out a bit.”

Annabeth wanted to argue that 25% was too high a percent, but he had chosen the number well. It was, to Annabeth’s calculations, fairly accurate.

“Why can’t we just wait?” Annabeth asked. She hadn’t meant for the words to come out as seriously as they did, but she saw Percy’s expression shift from joking to sincere anyways.

“If you want to wait, we can wait. Forget I brought it up”

She knew he meant it, and she was really tempted to take up his offer and forget about it. They had talked about marriage before, in an abstract way, and Annabeth hadn’t exactly been opposed, but he’d never asked straight up either. She had been clear that she wanted to be with him for the rest of their lives, but they’d never discussed a timeline for when they wanted to do things.

But it had slipped out so easily, and so sincerely. He really did want this. The least Annabeth could do was talk about it with him.

“But you don’t want to wait,” Annabeth said, rolling onto her side to face him more directly. Percy shrugged with one shoulder.

“I love you. I want to be with you forever. Why wait?”

“If you want to be with me forever, why do it at all?” Annabeth asked. Percy frowned, little lines appearing between his eyebrows.

“What do you mean?”

Annabeth hesitated, unsure how to put her feelings to words. Marriage had always given her a kind of weird feeling, nervous and a little repulsed. She was sure a psychologist would have a field day digging up why, but she didn’t really care to know. It was only the prospect of doing it with Percy specifically that made it tolerable to her at all.

“I love you,” she started, slowly, “And I want to be with you forever. But why do we have to put this weird stipulation on it? Why can’t we just be with each other?”

“We could. I’ll be with you however you want to be with me,” Percy said, reaching out, and brushing a stray curl behind her ear. Annabeth tried not to sink too much into his touch. She couldn’t afford to be distracted now.

“But you want to get married,” Annabeth protested.

“Yeah. I do.”

“Why?”

To Annabeth’s relief, he didn’t look at her like it was a weird question. It would have been fair, it was a weird question. But he could tell what she was asking, what she was really asking.

“I dunno, I can’t really explain it,” Percy admitted, “I guess I just want to make that promise to you, that I’ll always love you and always be there for you, sick or healthy and rich or poor, or whatever the words are.”

Annabeth couldn’t help but laugh a little at the end of his statement, and his own lips turned up in a smile.

“You’ve already promised me all that, though,” Annabeth said.

“Yeah, but this time it’s official. Something bigger than just you and me,” Percy said.

And maybe that was it; the wrinkle that wouldn’t let her just dive in and say yes and get married at 21 like every other lovesick young adult. Promises. Because a promise made was just a potential promise broken and the more official it became, whether in a prophecy and a knife or a ceremony in front of all their friends, the worse the fallout would be.

“What’s wrong with just promising it to ourselves?” Annabeth asked.

“Nothing at all.”

“But you really want this,” Annabeth sighed.

“Don’t say you’ll do it just because I want to do it,” Percy said.

“But you really want it?” Annabeth asked. Percy took a second to answer, biting his lower lip the way he did when he was really nervous.

“Yeah. I really want it,” he admitted.

Annabeth studied his face, every earnest line marking his expression, right up to the crinkles in the corners of his sea-green eyes.

She tried to imagine being married to him, really tried. Not just in an abstract sense, but what it would look like, what it would feel like. To her surprise, it didn’t seem that different from what they had now. Maybe even better, in some ways.

They were already so much more than boyfriend and girlfriend, they had been for a long while. Soulmates was a cheesy word, but she did honestly and truly believe Percy was hers. And while the thought of actually getting married was a little horrifying still, the thought of being married to him was a little exciting. Having people understand, at least a little bit, what they meant to each other made her feel warm inside.

And he wouldn’t break his promises to her. He was the only one who had kept every single one, and a stupid piece of paper at city hall wasn’t going to change that.

“Okay,” Annabeth sighed, finally.

“Okay?” he asked, a hopeful smile creeping onto his face.

“Okay, I’ll marry you, you dumb idiot,” she said, unable to keep a smile off her face either.

Before she could continue, he leaned over and kissed her. She could feel how happy he was through his lips, and it was supremely difficult to break away, but she knew she had to or she would get lost and her stipulations would slip out of her mind, never to be seen again.

“I have demands, though,” Annabeth said, finally pulling back. Percy laughed, loud and earnest.

“I would expect nothing less.”

“I don’t want a big wedding. Actually, I don’t want a wedding at all,” Annabeth said, trying to suppress the shudder that crept up on her at the thought.

“Easy. We can elope. Next,” Percy said.

“Really?” Annabeth asked. She had thought that might be a bigger deal to him, but he just shrugged.

“I want to be married to you, it doesn’t matter to me how we do it.”

“Even if I say I wanna go to Vegas and get it done with an Elvis impersonator?” Annabeth asked, only half joking.

“Can we really?” Percy asked, his eyes flashing with excitement.

“Maybe? If we— okay, no, I have more demands, put a pin in the Elvis thing.”

“I’ve pinned it,” Percy promised.

“Okay. I don’t want a stupid gaudy ring, it's not practical, and diamonds are unethical anyways,” Annabeth continued. Percy nodded.

“No diamonds, got it.”

“I want to keep my last name, or hyphenate or something. And if I do change it I want to wait until we’re done with school.” Annabeth said. She was a little nervous about this one, but it didn’t seem to bother Percy.

“We could both hyphenate,” Percy suggested, “Jackson-Chase has a nice ring to it.”

“Chase-Jackson sounds better, but we can deal with the details of that later,” Annabeth said, waving her hand.

“Okay, I’m putting a pin in hyphenation order. Next.”

“I don’t want to send announcements or anything. People can find out when they find out,” Annabeth said.

“Okay, but we have to at least call my mom and Paul,” Percy said. Honestly it was impressive he had gotten so far without even a small amendment to her asks. “And Piper is going to be really pissed if you keep it a secret from her.”

“We can call your parents,” Annabeth promised.

“And Piper?” Percy asked, raising an eyebrow. But the thought of telling her best friend besides Percy was getting less cringe-inducing by the minute. Annabeth actually felt herself getting excited about Piper’s potential reaction. She would absolutely freak out in the best way possible.

“She can be our witness. If you’re cool with that,” Annabeth said. Percy grinned.

“That sounds great.”

“Even if I ask her to make it as irreverent as possible?” Annabeth asked.

“We’re getting married in front of Elvis, I’m not sure how it gets more irreverent than that.” Percy said.

“We put a pin in Elvis,” Annabeth corrected, “But I’m positive Piper can somehow make it even more irreverent if she puts her mind to it.”

“Never thought I’d know an Aphrodite kid so willing to ruin a wedding,” Percy said fondly. Then an excited look flashed across his face.

“Plus, she won’t be able to stop herself from talking about it, and then we won’t have to tell anyone.” he added. He sounded so triumphant Annabeth had to laugh.

“You’re right, that’s perfect. So, when are we doing this?”

The smile on Percy’s face faltered slightly.

“Are you sure you want to do this? Because we really really don’t have to.”

Annabeth hesitated slightly. In truth the idea still scared her a little, even with Percy’s promises that they could do it in the most goofy, non-traditional way possible. But his insistence that he would stand by her with or without getting married was the thing convincing her. If she asked him to drop it now, he would, and he wouldn’t bring it up again, even though it was a big deal to him.

And really, it wouldn’t be such a big deal to Annabeth as long as they didn’t make it feel so official. Breaking a promise you made in front of an Elvis impersonator felt much less disastrous than breaking a promise you made at city hall. But it didn’t even matter, because Percy would never break that promise anyways, no matter where he made it.

“I want to be with you. And you want to be with me,” Annabeth said, “It’s a little weird for me, but if you want to do it, I’m down.”

“Okay. Cool,” Percy said, letting himself smile again. It was so radiant it just about chased away every last shred of lingering doubt Annabeth had. Not to mention the few added advantages to being married that had popped into her mind in the last few minutes.

“Plus, we’ll get a better tax refund,” Annabeth added, and Percy collapsed into laughter.

“I love you so much, I don’t even care that you’re marrying me for the tax benefits,” Percy said, rolling over and kissing her again. Annabeth let this one last longer, let herself sink into it.

“We’re getting married,” Annabeth said breathlessly, when they finally separated.

“We’re getting married,” Percy agreed, grinning.

So, maybe the institution of marriage was weird and a little sexist in origin and reminded Annabeth of old prophecies and old promises. But that was in the past. Percy was the future, her future, and wanted to have every single moment possible with him.

They were going to go to Vegas, and hire a random guy dressed as a 50s rockstar off the street and have Piper make the whole thing as ridiculous as possible. And then they were going to live the rest of their lives together, maybe as the Jackson-Chases, (or if she had her way the Chase-Jacksons), and she would finally have a word to describe Percy besides “boyfriend” which had been woefully inadequate for years.

Plus, her rebate next year was going to be awesome.

Annabeth grinned. Maybe marriage wasn’t so bad after all.

#trying a new posting format just for funsies #percabeth #percabeth fic #percabeth oneshot #Annabeth chase #percy jackson #percy x annabeth #percabeth fluff #annabeth x percy #proposal fic #if Annabeth seems OOC it's because I'm ✨projecting✨#i wrote this completely forgetting about her something permanent thing i was just focusing on the abandonment issues lmao #i think this is a reasonable interpretation though? idk lol #my fic

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thesaltminesrph · 3 years

Text

PSA: Be Upfront

Communication is important in RP.

Now, to preface, I am not going to use the really awful phrase "it's a hobby not a jobby" because this is a really sketch take on what is important to people. You can have a hobby mean a lot to you, be you a collector, a gardener, someone that builds model airplanes, a writer, an artist, etc. Those are all hobbies, and the fruits of your labor are NOT only valuable to you and others if you are paid for them. This saying implies that should you never be a published author, never have a painting sell, never do something that can be sold or have a time clock punched, it doesn’t at all matter. It’s a really discouraging thing to be telling people, quite honestly. I have multiple hobbies outside of RP. Kind of really sucks to see constantly they don’t matter because nobody pays me for what I do. I know I’m not the only one who has said this, but the majority aren’t willing to say it amongst the clamoring of ‘rp isn’t a job’ because then you get people jumping down your throat. Hear me out though! I’m not done.

“BUT I HAVE REAL LIFE!”

Yes! So do we all! We all have problems, and things to take care of. The RPC is littered with people with mental illness, neurodivergence, chronic physical illness (I hit all three categories multiple times, LUCKY ME!). Do not, I repeat, do not ever feel like you need to put RP before: bills, marriage/children/other relationships, your health. Literally, do not have your takeaway from this post be these are secondary to your hobby. They are not. Do not get evicted because you were too busy doing RP at your desk at work, that’s just plain dumb af.

You owe people decency means:

-if you can only do aesthetic posts this week because you are low on writing spoons, that’s fine

-if you had work/health/mother-in-law take over you life this week and you literally didn’t have time to log-in even though you wanted to, that’s fine

-if you are sick in bed and can’t bother to write, that’s fine

What it also means:

-dropping what was supposedly a years long ooc friendship because the other mun isn’t dropping their current muse for you and following you into a different fandom ‘because they’re now boring’ and telling them as much in a message...is shitty behavior.

-daily reblogging multiple memes that people are sending in to you, your wire, your discord, ignoring both those and messages to plot, then whining on the dash that no one wants to write with you (also known as trying to guilt trip interaction, obviously you only wanted it from one specific person not the people actively engaging you)...is shitty behavior.

-claiming you’re open for plots and memes, then only replying to the one or two people consistently for 6 months...is shitty behavior.

Again, in case it wasn’t clear- it’s your blog, it’s your life, it’s your health. That’s not in question.

HOWEVER- be upfront and give people some honesty! What do I mean by that?

If it’s feasible, post that you need a writing break, even if it’s going to be indefinite. Take as many fucking breaks as you need to for your physical and mental health to be the best they can be (I’m not going to say great, as I know what it’s like to just have a ‘good’ health day mean ‘it’s less shit than it could be’).

But if the situation is really you only want to write with these one or two people, just say so! It’s your blog, you’re allowed to decide you’re closed for plots, asks, etc. Just don’t lead people on. Don’t say something and mean something else. Don’t keep reblogging your promo and really you don’t want to write, and you don’t plan on taking on new mutuals, and don’t plan on replying to dms or threads from anyone else.

I’ll repeat it a little differently to be sure it’s clear- you dictate your activity level and number of mutuals, when you answer asks, threads, etc. This should be at a level that is suited for you and your life, health, etc.

BUT when you engage in RP you are involving someone else’s free time with yours, and it is not fair to them to act like they do not matter. You have involved someone else. Until you disengage from them, be courteous.

I’ll give you an example. When you ask for that starter on both your dash, then DMs, and act super hyped, getting the other mun excited for it, and then they put the time and effort into writing it up and posting it for you, expecting a reply? Only for you to go and make new blogs and immediately ditch that muse without a heads-up? That’s not really fair to the other mun. You communicated you wanted to write this, you hyped them up, they spent their time and writing spoons on your starter...and then you told them other people were more exciting and a better use of your time.

“BUT I DIDN’T TELL THEM THAT!”

Okay, so you didn’t message them ‘Hey loser, your starter sucked, your muse is boring, and honestly, a different fandom is better! Bye!’ But your actions sure give that impression, and unless you communicate otherwise, it’s a shitty move.

Now yes, sometimes you genuinely forget a starter was written because you thought it was drafted and it wasn’t, dumblr is an ass and loses your draft and then you forgot it, something came up that day and bumped it from your mind, etc. NONE OF THESE ARE WHAT I AM REFERRING TO. I have ADHD, object permanence is the thing my brain does where often unless it’s directly in front of my face, it doesn’t exist, until I find it again. I’m aware these things happen, as are most muns, and we don’t mind! Hell, we usually have in our rules “hey if it’s been a hot minute and we haven’t replied to this, feel free to give us a little nudge to see if it’s been lost” because we all know between brains and dumblr’s everlasting fuckery...shit gets lost.

I’m talking about those times where you just up and leave someone hanging without communication. I’m also not saying it might even be on purpose. What I’m saying is you should consider how other muns feel when you do this, and if you cannot avoid it, at least communicate with them.

“Hey, I’m just no longer going to be writing this muse. Sorry I had you write that starter. Do you want to try something with this new one? This is where my brain is at right now.” “Hey I really can’t be online this month thanks to fill-in-the-blank but I do still want to write when I am able.” “Hey, I see you sent in that ask. I’m only interested in this one ship, and I won’t be taking on new threads, but you’re welcome to follow and maybe I’ll take on new threads later. I’m just writing with these two people right now.”

Communication is something that is a requirement in a collaborative hobby.

I know it can be scary. I know the mentality ‘well they reblogged that meme but it’s not for me, I know they said they want to plot but they don’t mean me’, but you really have to get past that when you roleplay to be fair to other people.

Spoiler alert: the examples of shitty behavior further above are what help feed this ‘that post/meme isn’t for me’ mentality, when you do those things you’re fostering people’s anxiety and rejection sensitivity...just saying.

If someone gets mad at you for communicating with them, they’re a shitty person and block them. Literally if someone has a problem with you for trying to start something, especially as mutuals, you’re losing nothing by not writing with them. Find nicer people. So don’t be afraid to communicate you can’t write currently, you need a break, you’re only writing with these certain people. And don’t be afraid to send in the meme. I promise you, the right people appreciate courteous communication. The ones that don’t...

Again, no one is saying put your life on hold for RP, you’re never allowed to narrow your scope, you’re supposed to always have writing spoons, you need to produce five replies a day or you’re wrong, you always need to log-in to communicate you had a family emergency/depressive episode/etc.

What I am saying, is if you are capable of communicating, respect the time and energy of your fellow muns who may also be very low on spoons and free time themselves, and be honest about where you are at when it comes to taking on new threads, new asks, new partners, etc. Treat others how you want to be treated, and consider you probably wouldn’t like being on the receiving end of the behaviors I’ve described. If you need to be on the clock being paid to be a nice person...please re-evaluate.

#rp help #rph #roleplay psa #rp psa #rpc psa #rp etiquette #general etiquette

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hellyeahbakubby · 3 years

Text

“just a drawing” | sero h.

♔ - Running an NSFW art patreon, the reader has lost their motivation. Maybe Sero can help them find their inspiration, or be it. {wc: 1870} pairings - sero hanta x reader tags - SUGGESTIVE ONESHOT, mentions of sex, nothing explicit but be warned, fluffy bf sero, like I want boyfriend sero, pls, gimme a/n - thank you for requesting this, I had a really fun time writing it, and even though it took a while to put out I hope you enjoy it :) masterlist ▬ WARNING: SLIGHT NSFW, nothing explicit or graphic but proceed responsibly if you are under the age of 16.

For weeks now, your inspiration had abandoned you and your motivation extended to nothing more than staring at a blank screen. The hundreds of suggestions from your avid followers had begun to pile up and the hope you had of actually drawing something had been lost. None of the characters that usually stirred you to create were giving you any enthusiasm and you feared that you’d lost your spark for good.

“Hey,” Hanta greeted you as he entered the room, munching on his lunch, “Whatcha up to?”

Flicking around to face him, you instinctively flipped your tablet to your chest as if to hide the screen. “Just some drawing,” you replied as if you’d actually made any progress

“You’ve been doing a lot of that lately, huh,” he said leaning again the doorframe, digging his fork back into his dish, “Working on something big?”

“Uh, not really, just drawing,” you lied, smiling up at him. He smiled back. You sighed, you were getting nowhere with your drawing. Sitting there, lying about your progress to your boyfriend was just dumb. “Except I haven't been able to draw for weeks. I’ve lost my mojo for good.”

He watched your shoulders slump at the admission and couldn’t help but feel sympathetic to your cause. He knew just how much you admired creativity and to have lost your own would be weighing on you more than a bit. “I’m sure it won’t be forever, babe,” he said coming to sit in the chair beside you. Turning in his chair so his body was facing you, he placed a warm, reassuring hand on your knee. “Maybe instead of just sitting staring at your screen, we should go get you some inspiration. Yeah?”

You stared down at the device in your hands, the blank screen. Hanta went back to chewing. He watched your expression avidly. You were always so cute which only made seeing you so down worse. So used to your usually happy attitude around him, he wanted to fix whatever was bugging you.

Taking a deep breath in, “Yeah,” you said. He grinned.

“Nice. Why don’t we just go for a walk? And since I’ve got patrol tonight we can grab dinner after. Sound good?”

“Yup.” Even if you didn’t manage to find any inspiration you were grateful to be spending time with him. Since his schedule wasn’t exactly a typical 9 to 5 he was often working resulting in you being able to spend less time with him.

“I’ll finish my lunch then we can be off,” he said, “There’s a new park across the city that I saw last night. It’s beautiful, plus lots of flowers and stuff that might spark something.”

You smiled up at him. “Sounds good.” He was so considerate. You’d really lucked in with this one. And although you really needed to post on your patreon, maybe drawing something basic for yourself first would help get you back in that mindset. Leaving your tablet behind you went to get a drink before you left the house.

Hanta had been right. This park was beautiful. The grass was greener than you’d ever seen in person. The trees that edged the park created an atmosphere that separated the park from the outside world. It was its own little world. And the flowers. Hundreds of them. All different colours and types. The variety was astounding. You blinked a couple of times, making sure what you were seeing was real. It was captivating.

“Cool, huh?” he said with a cheeky smirk. Watching your expressions made him chuckle. He was secretly relieved that your mood had taken such a dramatic change.

“Real cool,” you said softly, nodding. You turned back to him and smiled. Throwing your arms around his neck you pulled him into a suffocating hug, kissed his cheek. He returned the hug with a laugh, wrapping his own arms around your waist in turn. Holding you in place after you loosened your grip he looked at you, thoroughly enjoying the spark of joy in your irises. “Thanks, babes,” you said.

“Anytime, doll,” he said before placing a kiss on your nose, “How about we go walk around and you can get some photos, eh?”

“Of course.”

Not a second after you’d taken his hand and begun to walk down the path when you heard someone call out from behind you. Both you and Hanta turned to look.

“Cellophane! Wait! Please!” A young woman ran towards the both of you, only slowing to halt right in front of you. She looked utterly exhausted, panting heavily.

“You’re… you’re my favourite Pro,” she managed to get out, standing up straight and looking up at Hanta with a look of admiration you’d never seen before. “Would you mind taking a photo with me?” she pleaded.

“Oh, sure,” he said with a smile, letting go of your hand to stand beside her as she pulled out her phone, “It’s nice to meet you.” She blinked at him in awe, her cheeks reddening.

“You too,” she squeaked out. Holding up the phone as he leaned in to get in the frame, she snapped a couple of photos.

You were oddly surprised by how you felt watching the interaction. It wasn’t jealousy or any sort of possessiveness. You knew that it was just an interaction between a fan and a hero so it wasn’t like she was gonna make any moves, or rather that he simply wasn’t interested. Instead, it was almost like a realisation. You were that lucky person, that lucky fan, who got to hold him, who got to be held by him. Your life was someone else’s fantasy, it was your own fantasy. There it was.

You knew exactly what you were going to draw to get your rhythm back.

“You good there?” Hanta asked returning to you as his fan walked away, every now and again turning back as if making sure he was real. “You look a bit zoned out.”

“Always,” you replied with full sincerity, squeezing his hand. His lips curled up at your response.

“Huh? Oh, I’m fine, just thinking,” you said, taking his hand again.

“About me?” he joked.

As Hanta retrieved his hero costume, preparing himself for the night of hero work ahead, you returned to your drawing room, knowing exactly what the finished work was going to be. You were one hundred per cent assured that this would cure your art block and although you had no intention of posting it, you were both anxious and excited for the one person you’d show it to, to see it.

Peeping his head around the doorframe, he grinned at seeing you already back to work. He did feel responsible for your returning motivation and was delighted with his achievement.

“I’m off now, babe,” he said. You got up, placing a kiss to his cheek for good luck before pulling his face towards your own. Pressing your lips to his, you relaxed momentarily into his arms. He was so warm, all-encompassing. You felt so safe with him, so secure, so free of judgement. He was everything you’d ever wished for and so much more.

“Be careful,” you said, running a finger down his cheek.

“Whatever you say,” he gushed, leaning to kiss your forehead.

“See ya later, handsome.”

Walking him to the door, no sooner than he was gone you were back at your desk, sketching out the picture already finished in your head. You were almost surprised you’d never thought to draw something of this flavour before. God, just thinking about it made you flush. He was a well-known, well-desired Pro-hero; surely you weren’t the first person to concoct such a lewd creation of him. And well, it wasn’t like you were a stranger to him. You knew him up close and personal and you knew exactly what made him tick. You’d never post such a thing but you couldn’t think to draw anything else now that the idea was in your head. Not to mention you couldn’t help but imagine his reaction when he saw the finished product.

Stretching your muscles, you turned in your bed, waking slowly. Hanta wasn’t beside you despite having said he’d return at around four am but it didn’t worry you. He usually fell asleep on the couch, even after telling him countless that you didn’t mind him waking you when he came home. You made your way down the hall, careful to miss stepping on the floorboard that always groaned under your weight. If Hanta was indeed asleep on the couch you didn’t want to wake him. You knew how much hero work took out of him, especially if he’d had a busy night.

Creeping into your drawing room to continue working on your piece your heart plummeted to your stomach when you saw the empty space on your desk where you’d had your tablet last night. Come to think of it you didn’t remember going to bed which could only mean that Hanta had moved you to your bedroom after you’d fallen asleep midway through drawing. Oh god, that meant he had your tablet.

“Fuuuck,” you heard him drawl from behind you. Frowning you spun around.

“What?” you said before you saw your tablet in his hands and you felt heat rush to your cheeks.

“That’s my line right, babe?” he teased, tongue between his teeth, “At least that’s what I’m saying in this drawing, aren’t I?”

“I…” you couldn’t find any words.

“No, no. Your line’s ‘Oh please, god’ and then I think you’re meant to moan.”

You opened your mouth to reply but you didn’t know what to say.

“It’s a really good drawing, just not what I expected.” He returned his gaze to the image in front of him. Although he was hiding it really well you noticed the pink tips of his ears.

“You… inspired me,” you said sheepishly.

“Clearly,” he said grinning again, “Just not in the way I thought I did.” You scowled at him.

“I just needed something to get my motivation back.”

He looked up. “Huh? Oh, I’m not complaining. I just didn’t know you drew this kinda stuff, makes sense why you hide your drawings from me. I mean bondage? Heh. Kinky.”

“Stoppp,” you begged, one hand on your face in embarrassment. You inhaled, trying to steady yourself. “It’s just a drawing,” you said defensively.

“Pretty sexy drawing though,” he mumbled. You looked up at him. His flushed cheeks said more than his words as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“If I knew what you wanted I would’ve given you a different kinda inspiration.” He was definitely as nervous about the whole thing as you were. He placed the tablet on the pile of boxes by the door. “I mean I’m happy to help you out.”

“Really?” you replied softly, “That’s sweet of you.” You sent him a sly grin and he swallowed quickly. He reached out, grabbing you by the hips.

“‘Just a drawing’,” he said mocking what you’d said earlier, “You gonna show me your others.”

“Maybe later,” you said in his ear as he lifted you onto your desk,

“Right now I’m feeling the inspiration for something different.”

#sero hanta #sero x reader #sero smut #sero x you #sero bnha #sero mha #sero hanta x reader #sero hanta x you #sero hanta x y/n #sero hanta mha #sero hanta bnha #hanta sero #hanta sero x reader

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distinctlywhumpthing · 3 years

Text

Together 3: Her name.

Previous — Masterlist — Next

CW: torture, captivity, wounds, broken bones, cauterization mention, strangulation, choking, implied conditioning, implied dehumanization, multiple whumpees, multiple whumpers, whumpee as caretaker, burns, unconscious, blacking out

It’s been hotter than usual for the past few days, even in our damp basement room. The other room is even worse, with dry, unyielding heat, as oppressive as the hands that strangled me until I saw stars over and over a few hours ago. We’ve spent the whole day lying around, rewetting rags from the first aid supplies at the cool tap. It’s been running with less pressure now which is the only reason we’re not just sitting with our feet under it all the time. Neither of us was out of the room for very long today, like all of our captors just want to go off to some pool or find somewhere air-conditioned to drink a cold beer.

“I’d kill for an Icee right now,” I say, rolling onto my side to see if she knows what I’m talking about.

She only turns her head, to show me her furrowed brow. I wonder if that means she’s been in this hole long enough she’s never had one or if she’s just from someplace where they have a different name.

I explain, “It's like a slushy, you know grated ice and syrup. My favorite used to be these white cherry-flavored ones, but they were rare, so every time I saw it in a machine, I’d get the biggest size. It was so good. It would kind of burn in your mouth from whatever was in there, not quite sour but not too sweet either.”

She raises one eyebrow and grimaces.

“No, really they were good. I swear, Babe. I’ll—” I stop myself before I offer to buy her one sometime like we’re just new coworkers chatting by the water cooler instead of two people who might never see the light of day again.

My almost-slip-up wasn’t missed and she rolls onto her back, staring up at the ceiling again.

I suck at this.

She’s always falling all over herself trying to help me, give me extra food, and protect me in whatever way she can. It’s not like I can return the favor even when she comes back leaning into the wall for support or looking so dazed I want to rock her in my arms. Even then, she does her best to help me before finally collapsing on her bed or sometimes mine when she knows I can walk to the other. The least I can do is try to distract her but I don’t know the first thing about her.

One time, I asked if she knew any sign language or had ever played charades. I thought she was going to pass out because she’d frozen and held her breath so long. When she finally let out a breath and opened her eyes, she was blinking past tears. She’d shaken her head once, gaze vacant and dark, jaw still tight. Clearly, she’s not allowed to do anything more than be expressive with her face. Even her nodding has practiced restraint. She never does it more than once. It makes my stomach twist to think of what kind of sicko would reduce another human being to that. My torture makes sense but not hers and I still don’t know what goes on beneath the surface. It makes me wonder if it’s personal. Maybe he has some kind of vendetta.

We could play twenty questions but I get the sense that might also be crossing the line. I don’t want to risk it. It’s uncomfortable enough without sending her into a panic or whatever it is that happens every time she gets cornered by her conditioning. She’s also still stuck wearing the long-sleeved turtleneck and leggings, while I’m shirtless in ratty shorts, so she must be stifling. They’re clean and soft at least, and I know she gets to shower every day if that’s any kind of comfort. I have no idea, it could be painful in itself for all I know. This is just making me depressed. Her situation is so much worse than mine. I’m sure she’ll be here long after someone messes up and pushes me into a grave sooner than planned. Even if they don’t, I know I have an expiration date, but I get the sense she’s a permanent fixture here.

I push myself up, catching the lukewarm rag before it falls into my lap. I still have bandages on the cauterized stab wounds but the rest have scabbed over fine. Some of them might not even scar that badly, not that I care. Half my fingers are still taped, which is a pain, but it’s not like I have anything to do anyway. I walk over to stand beside her and hold my hand out for her rag, keeping away until she holds it up so I can grab the opposite hanging end, a good six inches from her fingers. I have enough useable fingers to twist the tap on but I have to wring the fresh water out of the rags between the heels of my hands so they aren’t dripping. I shut off the water and turn around.

She’s propped herself up on her elbows and quickly looks up at the ceiling, eyes overflowing. I forgot that the burn scar on my back from a while ago sometimes does that to her, even though it’s long-scabbed over by now. I was pretty out of it for a few days after but every time I woke up she was doing that haunting, silent sobbing, like she was feeling every inch of it, too. I hope to god it’s not because she’s covered in similar burns.

I’ve never actually seen it but I can feel that it runs from the top of my left shoulder blade all the way to my right hip and there’s a curve from the hook at some point. When he did it, he wore some kind of fireproof gloves and pressed it into my skin, to get an uninterrupted line the entire length of the poker even with the curves of my spine and my then-present back muscles making it a less-than-flat surface. I’d passed out after a few minutes of screaming and choking on my own spit and snot. I don’t know how long he kept it there after but it took the longest to heal of everything, at least so far.

I hold the cool rag out to her by one end, letting her grasp it from the other and give her a small smile. She returns it, meekly, and lies back down, eyes following me as I sit on the edge of my bed and stretch my legs out in front of me.

“Okay, how about I—”

The light goes off. I didn’t realize it was “night” yet…

She sucks in a breath and I hear her shift on the other side of the room.

I jump to my feet, feeling the hair on the back of my neck stand up, and blink, trying to adjust to the dark, but I can’t see anything and she’s just shadows wearing all black. I think I see her hovering just beside the door but I can’t be sure and that’s when I notice the red light is also off.

“Hey—”

Her cool hands grip my wrists and she pulls me down to sit on the floor between the beds. She really is like a cat burglar sneaking around soundlessly. My foot touches her shin so I uncross my legs and put my feet on the ground, pushing myself back until I’m against the metal bed frame. It’s only a few degrees colder than my body in this heat but it still feels nice. I can’t be sure in the dark, but it feels like she’s followed me and closed the distance I just tried to make although, we’re still only touching where she holds onto my wrists. She drops one now and keeps my right hand in both of hers, cradling it palm side up in one hand while the other still grips my wrist.

“What—”

She lifts my hand with a little tremble to her grasp, brings it up so my middle finger brushes against her chin as she shakes her head. She lowers my hand, still cupped in hers, and presses her finger against my lips for a moment then she taps my ear.

I nod while she can still feel it. I guess that even if they can’t see us, they can hear us. I trust she knows better than I do since clearly, that would be a keystone to whatever process resulted in this being the closest to a two-sided conversation we’ve ever had.

She takes a deep breath and brings her shaking finger to my palm. At first, I don’t understand and think maybe she just wants to be near. Then I realize she’s spelling something. I gently shake my hand under her fingertip, like erasing an etch-a-sketch, so she’ll start again. She inhales again, which makes me think she understood.

The first is E, I think. The next two are the same, following the assumption that the first was oriented to my perspective. One more and it’s unmistakable. I catch her paused, hovering finger in mine, gently, so she can pull away, but she doesn’t.

E-M-M-A.

It’s her name. She told me her name.

I almost speak it out loud before realizing what it would mean if they heard. She effectively broke her silence by doing this and I don’t even know what she is risking or why she decided it was worth it.

I slowly take her whole hand in both of mine, tenderly, like holding a bird. Her breathing hitches up a notch and I can tell she’s already been working to keep it quiet. I bring her hand to my lips. This feels like a long shot and like it might be confusing or dumb, but I have to try. I know she’s likely not a lip reader but maybe for someone locked in silence, it will mean something.

Emma, I mouth, Emma, Emma, Emma.

Her hand is trembling by the time she slips it out of mine. She’s intermittently, unsteadily holding her breath.

By now, I can see her silhouette in the dark and she is as close as possible without touching me. She—Emma—is sitting, curled up tight with her chin on her knees, arms wrapped around her legs in between my legs. My knees must be level with her shoulders and I can smell the scent of soap on her. I reach out slowly and her eyes flash to the side as they register my hand but she doesn’t move. I softly touch the pad of my thumb to her cheekbone, just under the outside of her right eye, and find it damp. I don’t dare lay the rest of my hand on her face but I can feel the air warming between our skin, growing heavy, until it develops its own polarity.

I don’t know how long we stay like that before footsteps in the hall separate us. She takes my hand in both of hers and squeezes my palm before going to stand by the door where a lackey appears with a flashlight and she goes quietly. They don’t come back for me and I eventually fall asleep. When I wake up, the red light is back but Emma is not.

Previous — Masterlist — Next

#whump #whumpees #multiple whumpees #caregiver #hurt/comfort #strangulation tw #choking cw #dehumanization tw #captivity tw #torture cw #angst #scars tw #burns tw #i cant stop writing these two

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graveyard-ghoulish · 2 years

Note

Oh hello! Could I get a DBD matchup please? <3 for both Killer and Survivor?

I’m a bisexual Female, I’m 5’7ft and my MBTI is INFP! (If that matters!)

I like drawing both digitally and traditionally, and I do animating as a hobby every now and again. I play two instruments which are the piano and the guitar (still learning the last one though!) I also love to do gardening and cooking (baking, to be specific!) I usually spend time on my own playing rythm games or horror games, maybe even a few open world. And I also like spending time with my cat, I can’t stay anywhere without her at all. As for my personality, I’m usually either the most chaotic or energetic person or, if I notice someone isn’t in the mood for so much energy at once, I completely do a 180 and start being more calm, letting the other person do the talking or vent if they need to. I like listening to people talk about their interests alot! Even if I know basically nothing about it (be it a videogame or songs I’ve never heard of) I’ll still enjoy listening to someone speak their mind out, it makes me happy to see someone so passionate about something! I also like doing art requests for my close ones for free in exchange for some stupid requests, like say, a friend wants something drawn, I’ll tell them to do something stupid in a game or make a dumb tierlist as ‘payment’. And yeah that’s about it!

Hello anon, I hope you’re having a good day ❤️

Edit to add I only did killer because I’m a bit overwhelmed with requests right now but I hope you enjoy regardless

Killer-

Frank Morrison- The Legion

Your flexible personality works with his. He’s a pretty destructive and chaotic person and will often drag you with him to whatever he’s up to. But sometimes his mental health gets the better of him, especially more often in the entity’s realm so he’s grateful for the fact you can sit and listen even if he doesn’t outright admit it. He’s also glad you get along with his friends since it’s important to him.

He loves the fact you can play music and two instruments. If you need help with guitar he probably can intimidate Kate into giving you a lesson or two. He likes hearing you play. It’s soothing to his normally hyper energy.

He doesn’t often talk about his interests since his friends make fun of him but! He’s a little bit of a nerd. Sometimes you can get him to crack and he’ll never shut up, but he tells you to not say anything to anyone else lol. His ego is a little fragile. He’s not exactly quiet but he’s not overly loud either.

If you draw something for him he’ll definitely do whatever the hell you want. As long as it doesn’t end up embarrassing him he’s game. Throwing a rock at the Executioner in exchange for a little sketch on himself? He’ll risk it. He puts your creations in a special place away from where the rest of the legion might get to it, its important to him.

#dbd x reader #dead by daylight #x reader #dbd #headcanon #frank morrison #the legion x reader #the legion #matchups #anon ask

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bioodorange · 4 years

Note

so. i have been thinking. i know you said you wanted drabble ideas, but this is just a thought i had. how would the creeps react to seeing their s/o after a long time away? like, what do they do while they can't see their s/o? when they can see them in-person again, how is it? like, it's been months since they've seen each other and now they get to be together again?! :) (quarantine loneliness has low-key been getting to me lately tbh 😔) - dove anon 🕊️

Please excuse my shitty layout i have no idea how to use tumblr on a computer (thanks ava for letting me use your laptop at work) Also Im gonna include your favorites because you're my favorite.

Toby

So Toby is a very clingy person(?)

He craves attention, validation and emotional security

This mans would be a mess without his s/o around

You guys would be apart a lot considering you’d either be a proxy OR a human

You’d be used to him being gone alot because of missions but if it was for more then a week he’d have a hard time

During the time you were gone he’d call you A LOT

And on face time, not just calling or texting

He’d excitedly seggust you stay up all night

Three nights in a row

He would send you his hoodie in the mail or leave it in your room if it was quarentine or something

Would tell you everything about his day and send pictures of the smallest things that reminded him of you

He’d need a lot of support and love on your end

When he finally sees you again no matter your size you’re getting tackled in a hug

Lots of face kisses and nuzzling his face in your chest

He wants to play with your hair, look into your eyes, everything he couldn’t do before

Good luck getting away, this dude plans on keeping you in his lap for as long as he can

Tons of cuddling and him filling you in on absoulutely everything

When he’s done talking he’ll sit there and wait patiently while you tell him all about your life

Will be 100% you changed something about yourself even if you look the exact same

Masky

Tim is a grr im too cool for this shit kinda guy

But will melt upon seeing his s/o for the first time in a while

For this I kinda imagine maybe you’d have something outta town?

He would scroll through his phone all the time

Read old texts, look at old photos, hell he’d scroll to the end of your social media timeline

Constantly look at something when you posted

If you had a favorite food or something your favorite show- it’d be weird to him without you though

This dude would get so upset each day he woke up without you

Would call you just to hear your voicemail

Whenever you do have time to talk to him lots of asking if everythings ok

“I’ll come down there if I have to, it’s not a problem”

Just wants to make sure you’re okay as you can be

When you do come back he feels a bit awkward not sure how to express his emotions

Will offer lots of activities to do

Hiking, watching a movie, whatever you’d like

He’d hang around a lot more then he usually does

Wouldn’t be as clingy (physically) as Toby but would keep his arm around you

If he’s in the right mood might even make you breakfast or something

If you’re away for a REALLY long time he’d take picture of pretty views and make them into little postcards to send you

Babes doesn’t know how to express himself

Ben

As possesive as this little shit is

Thinks ‘Oh yeah I won’t miss em THAT much’

But thats because he can reach you like anywhere there’s a screen

Once he learns theres no devices allowed (where ever you are I dunno)

Automatically everything changes he’s like “Wait- wait what”

And suddenly he feels emotions

Tries his best to convince you not to go or to tag along

“Fit me in your suitcase I’m t i n y!”

Will definetely get discouraged when you keep telling him now

This petty bitch would consider the silent treatment

Only consider because you’d be leaving you soon

When you leave he tries to tough it for the first few days

But not having you around REALLY gets to him

Would bug everyone else for attention and shit

When they eventually get tired of his shit he starts plotting

Lets say you were like doing one of those long cross country trips

Where you stay in hostels and shit

This dude would have like a 35 step plan just to show up in your room

and be like “I told you so!” “...Ben how are you gonna get back home?”

“...Fuck-”

Would sulk around at the fact he was kinda dumb

Inbetween laughs you’d comfort him

Spend time with him as much as you could before he had to go back

From there he’d wait around his phone until you had internet to talk

As soon as you get back he hangs around you

When you’re watching TV hes there

Even if you can’t see him

Will NEVER admit how much he missed you

But you both know

Jeff

So out of all these salty crackers this mother fucker is the saltiest

like so much damn salt the ocean is jealous

sorry I just like bullying Jeff

Anyway! He’d try and get you stay with really shitty tactics

Like he’d take your toothbrush or some shit

“Aw dam what a shame you cant go anymore, why don’t we go watch some TV”

Dumb potinless arguing like “Why do you h a v e to go, you’re not gonna die. What if I die while you’re gone? How would you feel then hUH!?”

Will sit there sulking as you get ready to go cause he wants to see you leave

As soon as you leave he’s calling and checking in to make sure you’re ok

Would send you texts every morning for you to wake up too

Would scroll through your social media and accidently do the thing where you like a 5 year old photo

Panic

Quickly unlikes it and tosses the phone in the corner

begone demon!

He’d look through stuff on your desk or maybe a sketch book you left behind

Read old books you like

Just chill in your room all day cause he misses you

Has the day you’re coming back marked on a calendar

When you come back he‘s like “Yeah you’re never leaving again”

Picks you up and takes you to his bed or something

Yeah you guys are sitting there and cuddling until someone dies

#jeff the killer #jeff the killer x reader #Jeff the killer headcaons #Masky #maksy headcanons #tim wright #masky x reader #ben drowned #ben drowned x reader #ticci toby #ticci toby x reader

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nocturna-starr · 3 years

Text

The Picture

Prompter: @gottacatchghosts

Prompt: Danny/Jazz swap AU: Jazz is the half ghost and Danny is the older sibling. Go wild on your take of how this would all play out

Words: 1811

Notes: Related to THIS fic

“Hey Jazz, can you stand still for a minute? The lighting by you is perfect!”

“Daniel!”

A flash went off. Jazz blinked away the spots. Where had he come from? She would have sworn that it had only been her in the kitchen a few seconds ago. How had he come in so fast, or alternatively, how long had Daniel been watching her? Sometimes Jazz wondered who really was the ghost in their family, him or her?

“That was perfect!” Daniel cheered, “Now I’ll need a couple more photos and then you can go.”

“I thought you wanted to be a painter, Daniel?” Jazz frowned, “Since when did you care about photography?”

“Since I was the first one in all of Amity Park to catch a photo of the ghost girl in action! I discovered that I really do have a natural talent for it.” Daniel gloated as he changed the filters on his camera. Jazz smiled. It had been a long time since she had seen this side of her brother.

“Okaaayyy” She tried to sound like she was doing him a favour. If he knew that she was actually happy for him, then Daniel would never let it go.

“I knew you would agree!” Daniel grinned, “Now I have a bunch a filters that I need to try out! How busy is your day today?”

“Well I was planning to meet spike at the mall…”

“Perfect! I swear these photos are going to make you a star!” Daniel smirked, “Or at least get your name in the history books when these pictures come through.”

xXx

“I’m so sorry I’m late Spike! Daniel is on another stupid project kick.” Jazz huffed as she sat down in the mall’s cafeteria. Her friend looked up from the phone game he was playing. She wondered how long he had been waiting for her. Spike rarely ever tried out mobile games unless he was absolutely bored.

“And he says that he is nothing like his parents. Dude really is clueless to his own tendencies, isn’t he?” Spike laughed, “Maybe it’s a Fenton trait?”

“What do you mean by that?” Jazz asked.

“You still haven’t noticed my- You know what? I’ll let you figure it out.” Spike took a huge gulp from his soda.

“Come on Spike! That’s not fair!” Jazz whined. How could she even begin to guess something if she didn’t have a hint? She wasn’t a genius like her parents or her brother. She couldn’t help it she accidentally overlooked something that she didn’t even know was supposed to be there!

“Nothing is fair in love and war.”

“What do you mean by that?” Jazz wondered. Spike only smirked. He was about to explain (or maybe torment Jazz some more) when he was interrupted by one of Daniel’s friends.

“Hey Jazz! Have you seen Danny?” asked her brother’s not-so-secret admirer, Sam Manson. Jazz sighed. Judging by the new camera hanging from her neck, Sam seemed to be encouraging Daniel’s new endeavor. That meant he would be taking pictures for the next month or so. It was something that Jazz was not looking forward to.

“He’s in the house taking photos of plants. Or he decided he wanted to go on another jungle adventure and went into the ghost zone.” Jazz rolled her eyes. She muttered under her breath, “Then I’ll have to save him again this week…”

“Do you think he’s dumb enough to do that again?” Spike laughed, “Last time he got chased half-way across the zone by Klemper!”

“But he got some awesome pictures!” Sam grinned. She practically skipped away. Jazz giggled at her enthusiasm. She could see what Daniel liked about Sam. Maybe by this summer they would finally get together. Then they wouldn’t have another Ember situation.

“Your brother is going to get eaten by a ghost one day and all his friends are going to care about is that he got a good picture.” Spike snickered, “Man, I feel bad for him.”

Jazz joined into his laughter, “Yeah, but don’t feel too bad for him. You should have seen him when Tucker got attacked by Technus. He managed to get the two of them to stand still long enough for him to take a sketch.”

“And he didn’t snap a photo why?”

“As much as he hates to admit it, Daniel is just like our parents! He wanted to prove a point or something.”

Spike nodded in agreement, “Wanna get some ice cream?”

“You bet I do!”

xXx

The two best friends sauntered in the park, enjoying the beautiful weather and the lack of ghost attacks. It was peaceful times like these that Jazz liked the most. Times where she could just be a regular fifteen-year-old kid.

Of course, peace doesn’t last long in Amity Park.

“Wanna take a selfie?” Spike asked, “It’s been a while since our last!”

Jazz smiled, trying not to feel too guilty. Since becoming Jazz Phantom, she had veered away from cameras. In all of her research, she had discovered that photos tended to… change while in the presence of other ghosts. Yet the photos Daniel had taken of her, always seemed to end well. Maybe she was just being too paranoid?

“Say cheese!” Spike said, sounding way too bright to be considered a goth.

“Cheese!”

Spike took the picture, then went to see the results, “Uh… Jazz?”

He handed over the picture to her trembling. Nervous, Jazz took a look and paled.

Spike looked happier than he has in a long time. She on the other hand… If you showed the picture to anyone else, they would probably think that Spike had gotten a picture with Jazz Phantom herself! Jazz’s eyes were the bright red of her ghost form. Her hair was blue as the ocean. Her clothes looked faded, though if Jazz squinted, she could make out her logo.

All in all, this was a disaster.

“We have to get those photos from Daniel!” Jazz squeaked. She dived into a bush, transforming into her other half. Without a second thought she took to the skies, heading towards her home.

“Guess my plans have been cancelled,” Spike muttered, “Better tell mom not to cancel that trip to my therapist.”

xXx

“Daniel?” Jazz called while entering the house, “Are you here?”

Fentonworks was too quiet… Like her entire family was ready to attack her. She shivered, were they watching her? Jazz was afraid to even consider this. Maybe… maybe… Maybe her parents were out, and Daniel was with his friends?

“I’m up here,” Daniel called from up the stairs.

That didn’t feel like a trap at all.

With the very little courage she had left, Jazz carefully made her way up the stairs. Her yes darted around, waiting to catch the slightest movement. She prayed that her life was not about to fall apart. How could she have been so trusting? Daniel was her brother, but he had also been raised by ghost hunters. What if he warned her that she would have to leave? What if the government was here to take her away? These seconds could be the last of the life she had once known.

“Hey Jazz! The filters worked like a charm!” Daniel called from the top of the stairs. The ghostly heroine nearly fell down the stairs in surprise.

“Danny?!”

“Oh sorry. Totally didn’t mean to scare you little sis! Sam, Tucker and I have finally come up with a filter that can properly take pictures of anyone. No more red eyes, or blurry pictures! And it’s not going to malfunction around you like all of our other inventions!” Daniel was talking at a mile a minute.

Jazz sighed in relief. He hadn’t mentioned how her picture had looked. Did it mean that her brother had discovered a way to properly photograph half ghosts? She would need to steal a dozen of these camera filters which, knowing her brother, he would have around.

Jazz practically skipped down the stairs, “I was just seeing where everyone was! I’m going to go find Spike again! Tell mom and dad that I’ll be home for dinner!”

“Okay? But don’t you want to hear more?” Daniel asked.

She answered his question by racing out of the door. It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate her brother’s efforts. But Daniel could be just like Jack Fenton when explaining how something worked. She supposed she could be the same way when talking about psychology.

xXx

Daniel shook his head and sighed as his sister slammed the door. While he could understand her concerns, it still hurt to be rejected that way. It wasn’t like he could tell her that he knew her secret. She would freak out and try to trick him into thinking he just saw things. Now wasn’t the time for him to get down. He had just invented something revolutionary!

“How did you know that adding ectoranium to the filter would work?” Tucker asked, turning on the hall light, “And why did you have to tell her in the dark?”

“Cause it’s more fun to tell her that way. Who’d think that the ghost girl was afraid of the dark?” Sam answered for him, as she exited his room.

“Honestly, I forgot to turn on the lights.”

His two best friends howled but Daniel frowned. How could he have been so stupid? He’d after to reassure Jazz that everything was okay in a subtle way. Afterall, Jazz had a nasty habit of jumping to conclusions.

“I’m curious too,” Sam began, after she had calmed down a little, “how did you come up with the idea?”

“Ectoranium is the opposite or ectoplasm. I figured that the ectoranium would cancel out the effects that Jazz’s powers had on the camera. Now she can have her picture taken at school or join in family photos without a need for an excuse.” Daniel replied.

“That was very sweet of you Danny.” Sam gushed.

Daniel didn’t reply. Instead he headed back into his room. He put his hand under the mattress and pulled out the photo album he had been working on for the past couple of months. Carefully he placed one of the photos he had taken that day into the album. He flipped the picture over and wrote a note just like he had done to the other pictures.

This is the first photo taken with the new lens. Use the lens to reveal the true door. If the event has not happened, ignore this.

“Dude, the cryptic messages are a little freaky.” Tucker said.

“Call them safeguards, for just in case.” Daniel closed the book and hid it under his mattress again. Once he was done hiding his gift, he turned to his friends and smirked.

“Anyone want to see if we can get a picture of that Box Ghost again?”

“We’re in!”

#phic phight 2021 #jazz phantom #danny fenton #swap au

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munamania · 3 years

Text

happy hawkins holiday hiatus to @mikewheelerthepaladin !! here’s a lighthearted fic + a playlist of songs i listened to a lot while writing, i hope you enjoy 🥳

& a big thank you to @sevensided for putting this together, it’s been super fun <3

It’s the first time he’s been in over a year, really, but he’d entertained the thought of asking Will over the summer, for one last challenge before he left. It never happened, everything went by too fast; and, honestly, Mike didn’t know how to talk to him with the goddamn weight of everything - hi, we’ve barely spoken in the last year and we just almost died, again, and now you’re moving away forever - wanna hang out?

It’d never been that hard.

And it sucked. The whole thing. Now that Will is gone, it gnaws at him daily that they could have had more time together. Or a proper goodbye, at least. Instead, he spent a lot of time last summer sitting around, figuring out how to approach El and his feelings toward her, and most of all, alone.

But now the Byers are coming home for Christmas. And staying with The Wheelers, on top of it all.

So, seeking some sort of cryptic universal answer to his life problems, Mike returns to the place of a lot of younger memories, of crowding around machines with Lucas and Dustin and Will, a conglomeration of shouting and booing and cheering when one of them topped a high score, of frantically patting down their pockets for a few extra coins.

All of these wistful memories come to halt, however, when he finds a familiar redhead occupying one of their favorite games.

Max glances at him through the screen. “What do you want?”

“Uh, to play?” Honestly, he doesn’t care; he’s not sure he could focus enough to win much anyway. “Kicking your ass would be a plus.”

“Yeah, as if.” Her gaze fixes back on the colorful pixels dancing in front of her face.

Okay, well, she’s not moving anytime soon. He could probably just walk away, but a part of him wants company, even if it’s from someone hellbent on disagreeing with him.

Even when the Party hangs out now, Mike finds himself bickering with Max over what movies to see, where to eat, nearly anything, even when he doesn’t really give a shit. It’s the principle of the thing, and she gets under his skin.

Maybe it’s a good thing.

Mike sighs, leans against one of the neighboring games, and shoves his hands in his pockets. “I don’t really know why I’m here.”

“Well, if you’re looking for me to throw pity money at you, it’s not happening.” After a beat, and losing the level, she kicks at the machine and turns to him. “Now look what you made me do. All your moping and talking - I could’ve beaten that if you would just leave me alone.”

He offers a quarter.

“Forget it.”

“I’ll buy you a pop, then.” She glares at him. “Seriously, okay, this is the first and only olive branch. Take it or leave it.”

After a moment of scowling at him, her arms folded, she slowly concedes, a smug look taking over. “Okay. I’ll take it, Wheeler.”

“So, you’re stalking me at the arcade because… of nothing?”

Mike presses his lips into a line. “I’m not stalking you,” he says, “and it’s not - it’s not nothing. I was gonna ask Lucas or Dustin to come, but… I felt like I needed to be here alone.”

Max sips on her drink. “That didn’t work out.”

“Guess not.”

“So you did need to talk to someone.”

“Guess so.”

God, this is borderline painful. Sitting in a shoddy little booth across from Max, whom he never once intended to have a heart-to-heart with, is a new level of desperation. But here they are.

With the most grandiose sigh he’s ever heard in his life, Max straightens in her chair. “Well, I don’t love giving advice to annoying teenage boys, but I’ve been told I’m good at it. Advice, you know.”

Mike raises an eyebrow. “Was it El who said that, by chance?”

“Bite me.”

Amused, Mike smiles, and he slides the near-empty cup between his hands like a little game, something else to focus on. “Okay, fine, give me some advice.”

Max frowns at him like he’s the biggest idiot in the world. “Maybe give me a situation to work with?” She mutters something under her breath that he doesn’t bother with.

“Well, the Byers are coming home and staying with us, and I wanted to come up with something really nice to do, you know. I know that they’re really nervous because it’s… the holidays have been rough, the past few years.” He finishes his drink and stares at the lid. “They almost refused. So, I dunno, I figured I could do something to make them feel like it’s still home.”

“Oh,” Max nods, finally breaking into a slight smile, “well, cool, you could set up something really romantic for El! She’d love it.”

Right. The girlfriend.

He had no clue where the hell they left things when the Byers moved. About a month ago, Mike called to tell her the distance was confusing and they might need to take a break. He figured she would’ve told Max because, from his understanding, they spoke on the phone on an almost daily basis.

“Sure - yeah, yeah, that’s - it’s a good idea. For sure.”

Max falls back into a confused squint. “Was there something else you had in mind?”

Mike isn’t sure how to get it out without sounding like a total airhead. So he copes with it the best way he can. “You know what, this was dumb. I’ll figure it out myself.” He grabs his jacket and stands to leave.

“No, no, Mike - I want to help.” She’s looking up at him with a genuinely nice expression, holding out a hand to stop him from fully up and leaving. “I’m really good at this stuff, just let me know what I can do. No judgment. I swear.”

“I have to get home tonight anyway,” Mike says cautiously. “Told my mom I’d help with dinner.”

“Can I come over tomorrow?”

He frowns, and something digging at his stomach makes him respond with, “Why do you care?”

Max’s jaw sets. She stands up to meet his eye level and sets a look on him. “Even if I didn’t, even if I couldn’t care less about you, Mike, I care about El. And Will. And I want to be a part of their homecoming. So maybe you could figure out a way to not be a dick about it.” She snatches her drink cup and storms off from the table, leaving Mike to scramble after her with more apologies.

He’s gotta get better at this whole ‘girls’ thing.

He catches up to her outside. “Okay, listen - come over after school tomorrow. We can meet outside by the stairs.”

She barely turns to him, says, “Fine,” and then hops on her bike and rides away.

That’s how Mike ends up with Max in his basement, slowly walking and examining his things, but not touching any of them, thankfully.

It’s going alright, thus far. A part of him feels like he should reach out to Lucas and Dustin, too, since they’re also Will’s best friends. But something about this… works. He and Max can’t seem to stay entirely civil in each other’s company, but she gets something. And she hasn’t brought up El even once since yesterday.

“So, I’m gonna come up with a really cool campaign - well, I’ve been working on it, and I can tell you about it - “ Max lifts herself on tiptoe in his peripheral vision, “ - but anyway, we can pull an all-nighter, if everyone’s up for it, and make snacks and drinks and stuff, and we can have movies on for you guys, and I thought I might even look for some costumes because I really think Will would get a kick out of it. I can put lights up, too - “

“You draw?”

Max’s back is to him, as she’s looking over his wall of posters and pinned pictures. As he steps closer, he realizes her eyes are fixed on a sketch that definitely bears some resemblance to him.

“No, Will sent me those,” he says quickly, not wanting to seem like a giant narcissist, because Will’s drawing is - how can he say it - beautiful. “He’s been using charcoal a lot recently, he told me he got some new art stuff. I think he wants to send one of all of us.”

Max turns to him, and he can’t tell if she’s tearing up for some reason, but she quickly wipes any sign of tears away. “That’s so neat,” is all she says at first. There’s a small silence between them, and she’s just looking at him, and he has no idea what the hell he should say. “He’s such a good person,” she adds quietly, “I wish I got the chance to really know him.”

Mike’s breath hitches for a few seconds. “Yeah. I mean, he mentioned hanging out with you a few times.”

A smile lifts the girl’s cheeks. “Yeah, to bitch about you, mostly.”

“Hey!” he protests, but he can’t help but smile too, this time. This might just be their most pleasant interaction to date. “He never mentioned that.”

“I don’t know how he could, all you freakin’ do is talk.”

“Whatever.” Mike messes with some Christmas crafts on the table, holding them up in his vision to see where they might fit in the basement. He clears his throat. “You know, El and I, uh - we split.”

Max nods slowly. “She said you guys don’t call much.”

“No, we didn’t. I mean, I don’t even call Will, we just write.” He leans against the table, eyes glazing over as he looks over years of memories, dorky craft nights, and shitty school projects that he or his mom made a point to keep. “It’s too hard to talk - to either of them, you know. I didn’t think I could hear their voices without…”

Max cuts him off. “I get it.” She crosses over to the table, helping him pull apart old paper snowflakes. “I’m just the opposite. I’m scared if I don’t talk to them, I’ll convince myself it was all fake. And maybe it’d be for the better, but I’m glad I knew them. Even if only for a little while.”

Mike bites down on his lips, attempting to bury all the emotion threatening to spew out of him. “Yeah.”

Max finally looks up at him, and though they seem to have shared a moment, she snaps back out of it. “All offense, Mike, these are ugly as shit. I’m helping you make new ones, okay?”

“It’s for the memory!”

“No more living in the past.” She raises her eyebrows at him, and he pinches his face in annoyance, so she says, “Okay, you can put them up, in like, little corners, but we’re making new ones. Surprise. Work with me here, Michael.”

“It’s my basement, Max.”

“Did you or did you not ask for my help?”

Mike blinks. “Not really.”

She throws a crafty paper star at him. “Shut up, you’re glad I’m here.”

He shakes his head and moves on, but though he may never admit it, a part of him really is glad.

Weeks pass in what feels like a span of days or maybe hours, with Mike and Max sorting out their surprise plans with a typical amount of bickering - but hey, they get it done. Max has lots of opinions about decorations and music that make Mike roll his eyes, but she’s got a good eye and she offers to help with baking, which is not a strong suit of his. Yes, they throw a lot of streamers at each other, and threaten to storm out every other hour, but it gets done.

And the day is finally here.

Mike pulls himself into his best festive sweater and eyes himself in the mirror. He messes with his hair, though the long, wavy curls never seem to fall exactly into place - maybe growing it out was a mistake - and tugs at the creases of his sweater, letting out a huffy breath. None of it is working with him. When he can’t stand looking at himself anymore, he dashes down to the kitchen to help his mom with desserts.

She smiles when he plops into a seat. “You okay, honey? You seem a little tense.”

Mike jolts. “Uh, yeah, just excited.”

“Good! Joyce said the kids haven’t stopped talking about the trip for weeks.”

Great. “I hope we live up to the hype.”

“Oh, Mike. You know you don’t have to try that hard.” Karen stops frosting for a moment to look at him. “Will’s your best friend. El is excited to see you,” she nudges at him, and he coughs out a nervous laugh, “and Joyce thinks you’re an angel-”

“God, mom-”

“I’m serious. Don’t worry so much.” She leans forward on her forearms. “I know you think every problem in the world is on you, but it’s not. It’s enough just to be around the people you love. If anything, you’ve gone overboard.”

Overboard. Hopefully, it’s not too much.

Finally, he caves, exhaling slowly with a simple, “Okay.” He stays beside her, tapping his fingers, and eventually ruining a gingerbread man’s face until she notices and smacks his hand away.

There’s a knock on the door, and while Mike hops to his feet, his mother calls out, “Come in!” earning a panicked look from him. She mouths, ‘Chill,’ but he still half-jogs to the door and throws it open.

Nancy calls down the stairs, “Who is it?”

It’s Max, brandishing a few small wrapped gifts.

“Hello, sunshine,” she says. After a moment, “It’s great to see you too, Michael, allow me to invite myself in.”

“It’s just Max,” Mike calls back. He steps aside, and Max brushes past him, dropping her gifts by their tree and running into the kitchen.

“Hi, Mrs. Wheeler!”

“Hey, Max, Merry Christmas!”

Mike’s mom seemed to think Max was one of the most charming people on the planet, something they frequently disagreed on, but he can’t be mad at their pleasant chatter right now.

Especially not when the next knock comes so soon.

Probably just Lucas and Dustin, dragging their feet as usual.

Mike opens the door, prepared with a quippy remark for his friends, but his stomach drops immediately.

It’s Will. Holding a bunch of luggage.

Mike is caught up in everything about him. He’s taller. New, floppy hair, tousled and messy in the biting snowy winds. His forearms exposed as his bags push against his jacket. Will.

The boy smiles at him. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Mike manages.

Will looks past him with a tiny wave, and Mike turns to see Max beaming and waving back, and then Max slips back into the kitchen and Will returns his gaze to Mike. “Can I come in?”

“Hey, Mike!” Joyce interrupts from the car, straining to grab something in the backseat. “Merry Christmas, honey!”

“Merry Christmas, Mrs. Byers!” Mike, finally catching up his brain-to-movement reactions, moves to let Will in. “Yeah, come in. I’m gonna, uh, go help your mom.”

“Cool.”

He immediately forgets why he’s moved and attempts to step out as Will crosses the threshold, almost knocking him over, so Mike grabs his arms to stabilize with a, “Sorry - uh - whoops, haha, don’t fall,” and Will chuckles and shifts a bag to his shoulder, saying, “It’s alright,” and Mike spends his walk to the Byers’ car trying not to curse himself out.

“Oh, Mike, thank you, sweetie,” Joyce grunts, pulling a heavy tote bag from the floor of the car. “Can you carry this?” Mike nods and takes it from her easily, offering his arms out for extra luggage. Together, with Jonathan, who greets him with a, “Merry Christmas, man,” they manage to get everything inside in one trip. Mike hardly notices El rummaging through the trunk until she comes stumbling along with a basket full of gifts.

Finally, they’re all inside, and only a beat goes by before Nancy comes bounding down the stairs to greet Jonathan, and Joyce is grinning around at everybody, and then Karen rushes in from the kitchen with excited greetings.

“It is so good to see you,” Joyce says, opening her arms up to Mike for a hug. “You’ve grown so much-'' she looks at Karen and mutters, “-so much-” then looks back at Mike. “We’ve missed you all.”

“I’ve missed you guys too,” Mike says, “I’m glad you decided to come.”

“We couldn’t miss it. Figured it’s best that we’re together, you know.” Her expression falters, but she takes a breath and carries on with moving bags and ‘Merry Christmases.’

Joyce and his mom wind up chattering, and Karen takes off her apron to help transfer some luggage to the spare room. Nancy takes Jonathan’s hand and heads upstairs, grabbing one of his bags from the ground.

Will seems to have disappeared into the kitchen with Max, leaving his things behind, so it’s just Mike and El.

Mike takes in a deep breath.

It wasn’t an ugly breakup; honestly, El seemed unfazed. Their calls were little more than small talk about their days, most of the time, and even though he thought they might hold onto their past, everything they’d been through… it seemed to work best that they didn’t.

“Hey, Merry Christmas.”

El smiles easily. “Merry Christmas, Mike.” She lifts the basket slightly for acknowledgment. “Can these go by the tree?”

“Yeah, yeah, go for it.”

El nods and slips by the couch over to the tree, carefully laying out the gifts. After a few moments of Mike awkwardly leaning against the couch arm, thinking up something to say - thank god she didn’t seem too focused on him - Max walks in, her mouth stuffed with a truffle.

“El!” She darts over to the tree, and El jumps up, eyes bright, immediately throwing her arms around the girl’s shoulders. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too,” El giggles. “I brought you a gift.”

“You too. I can’t wait for you to see it. But first, you have to try one of these sweets Mrs. Wheeler’s making. They’re like frickin’ heaven.” She holds out the last bite of her own, and El takes it from her hand, eyes lighting up mischievously as she bites into it.

“It’s amazing.”

“I know. I think we should go sample some of the others.”

Mike calls out to their backs, “You guys better leave some for later on,” and in response, hears Max mimic him. He rolls his eyes and stands up from the couch.

And then it’s just him and Will, who’s beaming at him, seemingly amused by their banter.

Okay, Mike, now or never. “Uh, I’ll show you downstairs.”

“We’re not staying in your room?” Will asks simply, crossing over to retrieve his duffel bag.

“We totally can, I just have something I wanted to show you.”

Will nods. “Oh, okay, cool.”

Mike assists with a smaller bag and leads him to the basement door; before he runs down the stairs, he catches Max’s eye, and she gives him a thumbs up and mouths, ‘You got this.’ Deep breaths. At that moment, he’s incredibly thankful for her presence.

He watches as Will follows him down, slower, glancing around at the familiar surroundings. His eyes catch on everything Mike and Max put together over the past few weeks, and his footsteps grow slower as he takes it all in.

Streamers of all festive colors and off-balance fairy lights hang along the corners of the basement, phrases of ‘Welcome home,’ hand-cut and pasted on the front wall; at the table, a game mat and figures sit in wait, silly hats placed in front each chair; even the TV is prepared with a Santa hat, the couch covered in blankets and pillows, a few sleeping bags folded on the floor.

“Mike,” Will says quietly, stepping in a small circle, “what is all this?”

“Your homecoming party.” Mike is all jitters; he leans against the wall and shoves his hands in his pockets to disguise any visible shakes. “You like it?”

Will finally looks straight at him, an indiscernible look painted on his face. “Yeah,” he says, nodding rapidly, “yeah, it’s great - but we, uh,” he swallows and shakes his head, “we don’t, um, have to play D&D. I mean-”

“I don’t know, Will,” he ventures to step away from the wall, taking slow steps over to the table. Will follows every move. “I mean, I was really excited to have you back, even just for a little bit. We all were.” He reaches the table and leans back on his hands. “Figured having our cleric back warranted some festivities.”

Will shakes his head, runs his hands along his face, and turns away. The bit of confidence Mike has slowly starts to trickle.

“Is it okay?”

Will shakes out of his stupor and chuckles. “It’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me. You’ve truly outdone yourself, Michael.” He lifts himself on tiptoe to look at decorations on top of Mike’s shelves. “Are these from our big craft night, like, years ago?”

The horrible crayon work makes Mike smile - they made half of the snowmen evil, citing a Great Abominable Snowman War, and gave them wicked frowns and smiles, claws on their stick hands. “Yeah.”

“I didn’t know you kept them.”

“I keep everything.” An awkward chuckle breaks from his chest. “Not everything, like, a hoarder or whatever, but - “

Will simply smiles and pushes himself forward toward the back wall, brushing past Mike, to his different pinups. He fixates on the sketch of Mike that he’d sent about a month back. “You know, you should probably take this down. I don’t think you’ll hear the end of it from Lucas and Dustin if you don’t.”

“Screw ‘em.”

“Right.” Will quirks his eyebrow and moves to sit in his designated chair, right next to where Mike is currently resting. “So, they know about D&D?”

“They know.” Mike smiles, and looks at the floor, right where their legs brush up against each other. “They seem pretty excited to have the party back together. To remind you of how badass your first one was,” he adds.

Will peers up at him for a moment before quietly saying, “I never joined another one.” Mike meets his eye for a moment, then, threatened by the silence that follows, clears his throat and distracts himself with a particularly interesting notch in the wood paneling. “Did you guys find someone else?”

“No, no,” Mike assures him. “We haven’t touched any of this stuff. It’s not the same.”

A silence settles between them, one that neither seems to know how to navigate. But Will keeps his gaze steady on Mike, trying to breach some barrier, to fall back into their usual ways.

Something is different, though; it’s not uncomfortable, it never could be, but it’s something intimidating. Will seems more comfortable, at least; he’s not shying away from anything Mike throws at him.

And he tries to break the silence first. “Y’know - “

“Will,” Mike cuts him off, and he’s not sure what he’s saying, or where he’s going with it, but he knows he’s supposed to say this. His name. “I need you to know that I missed you.”

Will blinks at him, cocks his head. “I missed you too,” he says matter-of-factly.

The words are eating at him, right there on the edge of his mind, and Will looks almost concerned and now Mike just wants to drop it because that’s not what he wanted. But he can’t, not now. “I missed you the most.” It sounds so juvenile. “More than everyone else. I missed you before you even left. I just didn’t know how to say it.” He breathes in and out, focusing on Will’s cheeks, the tip of his nose, anything but his eyes. When Will doesn’t say anything, the rest just spills. “I missed you when our first first day of school apart came and passed, and I didn’t even call. I missed you at homecoming. And,” he licks his lips, not really sure where his speech is heading, “I know you had to go, it’s fine. We’ll figure it out. But I feel like we haven’t been on the same page in a long time. So, I missed you, and I love you, and that’s that.”

Will looks at him funny, and then his face softens into something like laughter, and Mike is genuinely about to run and throw up somewhere, but then the boy closes his eyes and says, “I love you too.”

Mike blanches. “I don’t think I said that.”

“Oh, you definitely did.”

“Oh,” he nods, mind spinning, “well, you know…”

Will stands to be at Mike’s level, leans forward on his knees. Mike stops breathing. “I do,” he says, “but tell me again.”

Mike swallows down a breath of courage and suggests, “I think I might like you.” His eyes flit to Will’s lips, then back to his eyes. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll allow it,” Will says, a bright smile causing lines near his eyes. Mike smacks at his arm, nervous laughter coming out with a quiet, ‘Shut up.’ Will moves so he’s resting his fingertips on the table. Inches away.

“Same page, then?” Mike asks.

“Same page, yeah, for sure.”

Mike nods absently, distracting himself with the strings on Will’s sweatshirt. “So I don’t sound crazy?”

Will laughs. “I dunno. I always counted on us going crazy together. Figured we might have a few extra years, but hey, I’m all in.”

And then Mike is flashed back to a night on his couch just over a year ago. Knees knocking together, shared smiles. A promise.

So much has changed.

He wants to know what Will meant. A future of being in each other’s lives, maybe, getting old and senile and batshit crazy. Always being there.

He never dared to think about it before.

“So what now?”

Will shrugs. He dips his head to meet Mike’s eyes with his own. “What do you want, Mike?”

And finally, he thinks he might know.

Or maybe he’s always known.

He scoots forward, takes Will’s face in his hands, and kisses him. It’s just a quick press of their lips, but in that moment, he knows a few things for sure. His heartbeat is going a mile a minute, and Will must be able to feel it; it’s absolutely exhilarating, surreal, insane that he’s kissing his best friend; and, he is definitely in like, or maybe love, with Will Byers.

He’ll probably love him forever.

When Mike pulls back and his eyes flutter open to see Will, flushed, blinking back at him, slightly dazed, he doesn’t want to pull away at all. He did that. Mike’s hand remains on his jaw, lax, and he runs his thumb along Will’s bottom lip, curious to see his reaction, curious about a lot, now.

Will lets out a breathy chuckle. “Wow,” he mumbles, “that’s new.”

“Yeah.” Mike exhales shakily, takes one of Will’s hands, and says, “Merry Christmas, Will.”

“Yeah, Merry Christmas.”

The world doesn’t seem to fall apart like Mike thought it might if he ever got to this point, so, that’s nice.

“So…” Mike begins carefully, “you’re gonna have to be slow with me here. This is sort of a lot for me.”

“Me too,” Will replies simply. He squeezes Mike’s hand. “But we’ll figure it out.”

“Totally.”

Will takes his cheeks in his hands and smiles into a very gentle kiss, his fingers curling into the hair at the nape of Mike’s neck. It’s soft and sweet and lingering - but not for too long, as moments later the door upstairs busts open and shouts of, “BYERS!” from their dear friends sound through the air, and Mike and Will jump apart, equally startled and laughing.

“Down here!” Will calls out. He looks at Mike, smiles, offers, “To be continued?” and as he walks past, he leans in, just to leave a quick peck on Mike’s cheek.

And all Mike can do is laugh and shake his head and run after him to meet their friends; Lucas and Dustin are horribly late to the surprise, but they collide into Will the second they see him, shouting over each other, ‘What’s going on, dude?’ ‘Merry Christmas!’ ‘You’ve missed so much,’ and everyone is grinning and chattering, and it’s awesome.

Max approaches him, watching all of the madness, smacks a hand to his shoulder, and says, “You did good, Wheeler.”

“Yeah, I did.” She punches his arm lightly, laughing, so he adds, “thank you for everything. Seriously.”

“I think we should work together more often.”

Mike scoffs into a laugh, and says, “Yeah, guess so.”

Max rolls her eyes, but at least now they’re actually laughing in each other's company. It’s great progress from just a few weeks ago.

After a minute of watching the boy’s shenanigans, Max smiles. “Well, Merry Christmas, anyway.”

“Merry Christmas,” he responds, and he watches as she jumps up onto a kitchen stool, chatting and giggling with El.

With everyone back together again, finally, Mike feels really alive; so, he jumps in with all the excited shouting and group hugs and bickering, and celebrates the merriest Christmas he can remember in a long time.

#stranger things #hawkinsholidayhiatus #tuserjake #byler #byeler #mike wheeler #will byers #fanfiction #playlist #ik it might be a lil cheesy/dorky BUT i hope it makes u smile it was written w a lot of love <3 #mine

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icollectyoursins · 3 years

Text

Kishibe Rohan x Reader SFW + NSFW

Anon said: “Consider Rohan sfw and nsfw hcs? And in nsfw Rohan could be a top,,? Prrtty pleade hhh, since there is only one work of Rohan ;;”

I hope these are good, not too familiar with Rohan, so I hope you like it!

Wanna know what I’m willing to write? Rules here!

Have a character, but no idea? Prompt list here!

Looking for more? Master post here!

WARNINGS: Making out, stands used in inappropriate ways, fingering, voyeurism, dildos, fucking machines, spanking, hand jobs, blow jobs, oral, face fucking, cock warming, nipple play, nude modelling.

Word Counts: 2201

SFW

Rohan is a jackass who cares. In the beginning, he’s very private and stand-offish, but he does warm up to you eventually, though he’s still nicer in private than he is in public. He claims this is because he’s a “celebrity” and can’t have his fans see you too close together yada, yada. It’s bullshit and you know it, but you have the feeling it’s because he’s not used to people being close to him.

Yes, he does have a binder dedicated to paintings, drawings, sketches, etc. all for you. Some are a little on the artistically lewd side, but most of them are of your hands holding something or your smile, your face and shoulders. Some of them he asked you to model for, others he quickly sketched down while you weren’t paying attention and then finished later.

When he’s not holed up inside, he enjoys walking down to either parts of Morioh where he can people watch or down to the park where he can study wildlife (and maybe draw you playing with ducks).

You are literally never bored in his house. He has every book under the earth and so many loose painting supplies that he painfully lets you use to fool around. (Though let’s be honest, He likes that you take an interest in his job and would be more than happy to give you tips.)

You know what? Rohan is a backseat artist. He watches every stroke you make over your shoulder and tells you maybe you should move the hand this way to make it more natural or add some light shading here to make it dynamic. It may come off as a little pretentious at first, but if you keep with it, he’ll notice the improvement and (occasionally) tell you how good you’re doing while being a total blushing mess.

You sat in the window seat, knees up with your back against the wall. Resting on your thighs was a sketchbook. Currently, you were just idly drawing lines of shading onto a face. Rohan himself was also busy colouring in his most recent page, though every now and then he would catch himself looking up at your silhouette, lit up by the light in some kind of halo effect.

Finally, he caved in to his curiosity. Setting down his pencils, he strode over to you. You didn’t notice until his face manifested itself over your shoulder. Startled, you jumped, causing your pencil to make a long line on your artwork.

“Jesus, warn me next time.” You said, grabbing your eraser.

“Have you been struggling with the nose?” He completely ignores you, still staring at your drawing. The paper was clearly marked up by the eraser with deeper marks from where the pencil was.

“Yeah, actually. It’s either too big or too small. Kind of just gave up.” You carefully tried to erase the long line but wound up taking away parts that you were actually happy with.

“Be more gentle with the pencil, it’ll make it easier to erase.” He suggested with a monotone.

“I tried-”

“And then you got frustrated and pushed harder. I admire your persistence, however, if something isn’t to your liking, walk away and come back. Remember to look at the picture as a whole, not just the nose.” You rolled your eyes, gently tossing your pencil onto the window seat. As much as you wanted to appreciate the advice, you had heard it all before. You were getting sick of it, frankly.

Rohan took note of your agitation, studying your face carefully. “You’ve improved, though!” You looked up, a little shocked. What? “The eyes are well done and your shading is very even. Good job.”

What? Your cheeks grew hot. That was the first bit of praise you had heard from him. About your drawing, at least. He looked down into your eyes, then felt his own face getting hot. He turned away. “Go take a break. I’ll help you when you get back in an hour. I’ll be timing you, don’t be late.”

Like I have said, he’s not overly fond of affection in public (in the beginning), but he can’t deny that holding your hand or feeling you on his arm makes him feel pretty good. The first few times, he’s internally a mess, though he won’t show anything other than a light tint of blush on his cheeks. But when he’s relaxing at home, he enjoys having you under his arm, leaning against him or with one of your heads in the other’s lap. He’s not used to people and even less so used to affection, but can be worked up to being more comfortable with stuff like kissing in front of the Morioh gang and the like.

When he’s comfortable, he is so cocky. Like, boarder line makes out with you in front of literally anyone just to prove you’re his S/O. This always makes you blush so much (unless you’re into that.) More often than not, he’ll have an arm around your shoulders, hand in pocket, looking so smug and proud and cool.

Pet names? He can either go one of two ways, depending on his mood. Either it’s just your name or babe OR it is every teasing name under the sun. Oh, darling can you do this for me? Oh, baby, oh, honey, oh, my love, oh, my flower. It’s usually used to get something from you or to get you to do something a little out of the box.

I can see Rohan as being the kind of person who is very strict about his bath time and hates when people interrupt him. On the rare occasion, he’ll let you in with him with the promise of either massaging him or something else *wink, wink*

NSFW (Dominant specifically)

Rohan literally does not shut up during sex. Praise, degradation, mocking, you name it! As a writer and an artist, he knows how to stitch words together in a masterful way that never fails to make you hot in the face.

Uh, yeah. He’s used Heaven’s Door on you before. Did he do it to learn your kinks? Maybe to put some kind of loose control over you in certain situations? Looking for people you find attractive for potential erm... art inspiration (voyeurism)? The world will never know.

Staying-on brand with HD, he absolutely uses it to learn everything that you enjoy in the bedroom. He knows how to make you squirm, where to push to make you scream, how to make you beg. He knows everything.

Particularly enjoys using this “power” to finger you, pressing into every sweet spot (that he made more sensitive with HD), licking over the edges of your hole in a way that just makes you dumb (either hole, not picky!)

A delicate finger was trailed up your twitching hole, making you shiver. Rohan had already stretched you open enough for it to easily slip in again. You were so sensitive from being teased over and over again, but with no relief that you cried out, tears threatening to burst forward.

He curled his finger up into a particularly sensitive bundle of nerves, slowly pushing into it more. You groaned and whined, blabbering out his name along with various ways to beg. He shushed you carelessly, sounding annoyed by your desperation. God, you wish you could move! You would give anything to be impaled by him right now. Or anything for that matter.

He removed the digit quickly, then promptly smacked your ass with a flat hand.

“Quiet.” You had no choice but to listen to him, involuntarily shutting your mouth and stifling your whimpers. “If you want something, be polite about it. Do you know how to be polite?”

You nodded your head, a single tear trailed down your cheek. Your hole was teased again, repeating the same process as before. Rohan was such an asshole, but god if you didn’t love it.

If you have established a relationship where he has complete control over everything you say or do, he will abuse it so much. Just, tells you to sit still, turns on a wand or vibrator and just tortures you to the point of tears. You can talk, he didn’t take that away (mostly because he wants to hear you beg), but the position he put you in on top of the order. It’s too much for you.

He’ll do the same with a dildo, a fucking machine, his own dick, does not matter! Once you give him that power, RIP to your organs.

Alright, now. Voyeurism. This man is a freak and does not try to hide it when it’s under the guise of “art.” Again, if established, he will hire random people to do whatever he wants to you. If you’re okay with it, he’ll record it for later research.

Rohan is a weird jealous type, so he checks out every person you meet and makes sure they’re perfect (ie. not competition and someone you’ll enjoy). Very rarely does he let you pick out the people. Like I said, he’s a weird jealous type. Likes to see you with other people, but not with other people, you know?

There is only one person who he considers competition that he wants you to fuck at least once and it’s Jotaro. Are we surprised? No. Dude is built like a god and has the goods to match. Even Rohan can’t deny it. He would probably want to join in as well, but Jotaro would never do anything like that.

Mmmm, punishments for being bratty? Ooooh, yes. Smack my ass like a drum! Makes you count, absolutely. If he’s in a bitchy, lazy mood he’ll use a paddle or something like that, other than that, he uses his hands.

As you’ve probably surmised, he likes having control over you in the bedroom, so it’s no surprise he also enjoys tying you up and has a particular fondness for swings where he’ll hang you up and tease you until you can barely walk.

I mentioned baths in the SFW section, now let me elaborate. Doesn’t like sex in the bath, he hates when the water gets everywhere, but loves when you worship him while scrubbing him down and will allow you to work him up with a light hand job. This usually leads to a blowjob of some kind whether it’s gentle or rough.

Speaking of! His favourite part of sex is probably oral. From sucking bruises into each other’s necks, rough kissing, right down to holding you against the wall and choking you with his dick. Or a dildo, if he wants something a little more adventurous like mirror sex with him taking you from behind and making you watch yourself choke over and over again.

Cock warming is only ever used as punishment for being too needy, but he will keep you in his lap until you’re in tears. He is absurdly patient when it comes to sex.

You whined, grinding yourself onto Rohan’s dick. He chuckled before letting out a theatrical sigh. Your grip on his shoulders got harder and you buried your face into his neck more.

“What’s wrong, (Y/N)?” He trailed a soft, teasing hand up your thigh. “You wanted attention, yes? Then, why are you complaining? Now, up, I need another look at my reference.”

You sighed, tired and riled up at the same time. With new vigour, you sat up, leaning back to show your artist his latest obsession. He hummed in appreciation, taking a minute to admire his muse before licking a warm stripe up your sternum making you gasp. He stopped, giving you a look of warning.

“Don’t move.” You gave him a curt nod, trying your best to follow your command while he returned his tongue to your chest, exploring your skin’s taste. He flicked over your nipple with the tip, testing your resolve before wrapping his lips around it, sucking harshly. A moan fought its way through your throat as he became more feverous with his suckling.

Rohan hummed with you, theatrically mulling over the saltiness, then switching to the next one. Satisfied with the redness around your nipples, he pulls back, looking you over once again. A lightbulb seems to go off in his head and he reaches for his sketchbook which only made his cock shift inside you, rubbing against your walls in a delightfully painful way.

“Rohan-sensei,” you moaned out. Admittedly, you didn’t like calling him that, but he insisted you call him sensei during times like this.

“Stop moving, you’re ruining the picture,” he chided. “Go back to the way you were, darling.” He leaned back, rolling his hips into you to punctuate his words as well as tease you.

Model nude for him. Whether you like it or not, he will ask you to do it and, if he’s in a sexy mood, you will be asked to do uncomfortable positions that will definitely leave you sore the next day. “It highlights how the muscles work for a new character I’m drawing” or so he says. Other than that, he’ll just let you pick somewhere comfortable and sexy to lie down.

#kishibe rohan not sfw #kishibe rohan n/s/f/w #rohan kishibe n/sfw #rohan n/sfw #rohan not sfw #rohan n/s/f/w #kishibe rohan x reader #kishibe rohan x reader n/sfw #kishibe rohan x reader not sfw #kishibe rohan x reader n/s/f/w #rohan prompts #not sfw #sfw

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