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muchosbesitos · 9 months

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la apuesta

pairing: college!miguel x fem reader

warnings: miguel being a bit of an ass, face-sitting, oral (i probably forgot smth 🧍🏻)

author’s note: thank you for all the support for friends with benefits 🥹 anyways i got this idea from c.ai miguel using me as a bet LMAOO (he was supposed to be my roommate only 😖)

word count: 3037

You were the bane of his existence. He hated everything about you, from the way you smiled at everybody but him, to the way that you carried yourself, with kindness and respect even if it wasn't reciprocated. He hated the determination you had towards beating him at everything academically, putting in late hours at the library and studying for tests weeks in advance. What he really hated the most about you, though, was the way he could never find himself to truly hate you.

Which is how he found himself agreeing to a stupid bet that Peter B. Parker had brought up mid smoke sesh. Miguel had spent the last thirty minutes ranting about how you annoyed him today, about your test score and how he was so sure you cheated, and mostly about how you faked being nice with everybody when Peter interrupted him with the proposition. "What if we made a bet?" he started off, getting Miguel's attention as he passed him the blunt. "Let's say you can make her fall in love with you in two months for a hundred bucks," Peter added when Miguel took a hit from the blunt, a cocky smirk on his face. "Let's do a month for two hundred, yeah?"

The next Monday, Miguel found his gaze going to you during biology, the wheels in his head turning to figure out how to win you over. Would you like flowers? Grand gestures? Just the thought was starting to make his head hurt. He decided to start off slow, choosing to sit next to you before the class started. "Good morning," he offered with a small wave, which you returned with a smile on your face. He spent the class period looking at you through his peripheral, handing you a pen when he saw you digging your bag and giving you his notes when the professor moved through the slides too quickly.

"Go to lunch with me," he said after the class ended, watching your eyes flicker with surprise, a bit surprised himself by the offer. He wasn't one to go on casual lunch dates or even pursue someone, people usually pursued him and he didn't do much to find someone to sleep with him. "Well my daily ramen budget thanks you," you replied with a small chuckle, walking next to him after the class ended to the cafeteria. He found himself willingly laughing at your remarks, asking more questions about you, before reminding himself that this was all part of the bet. he refused to be a cliché and be the idiot to fall in love.

"Pickles and mustard? We might have to end this lunch date right now," you remarked, watching as he now added hot sauce to the mixture. It was odd, having lunch with Miguel O'Hara since you were pretty certain he hated you and he only had lunch with his close friends, but you still enjoyed his company and hearing his point of view of how he saw the world. "Oh c'mon, you can't say anything until you try it out," he protested you, handing you a pickle slice, the look on his face practically daring you to eat it. You took a tentative bite, your face morphing into a grimace as you spat it out, taking a sip from your water bottle. You looked up to see Miguel fighting back a laugh, tossing the pickles to the side as he looked over at you. "I can't believe you actually thought I eat that," he remarked with a smirk on his face, laughing as you hit his arm playfully.

The next week had been spent like that day, from trying out new food combinations, exchanging class notes, to spending time in his dorm room and studying. He had taken a break from studying, looking over at you reading the biology textbook and biting down on the pen in your hand, the small action emphasizing how pretty your lips were. He pushed a strand of hair away from your face, an easy smile on his face as you looked up at him. "It's such a shame that the test won't be covering me," you teased, seeing his closed textbook on the floor. "Such a shame indeed, I'm sure I'd be getting top grades," he replied with a smirk of his own, his fingers trailing the back of your neck. He watched you for a little bit, taking in how pretty you looked when you were concentrated and how much he seemed to enjoy your company without giving much thought to the bet. "Go on a date with me," he blurted out after a couple minutes of silence, watching you carefully for your reaction.

He found himself Googling best date ideas and even going as to making a Pinterest board full of things he deemed would be fun for both of you. He ended up going with a classic picnic date, buying sandwich making materials and a small Lego set. He arrived at your dorm room a couple hours after he confirmed you were free, fighting back a smile as he saw you open the door. You were wearing a yellow sundress that complimented your curves perfectly, pairing it with white flats. He stumbled over his words as he took you in, spitting out something that resembled, "Te ves hermosa." Your laughter was like a soft melody that reverberated through his ears, unable to keep his gaze off you. You closed your dorm door, walking next to him to his car. (you look beautiful)

He stopped in front of City Hall Park, claiming that it was underrated by Central Park's attraction. He set down a checkered blanket on the grass, sitting down as he took out the contents of the basket. You two fell into easy conversation, talking about your friends, school assignments, and just personal details. You two started to make your sandwiches as you took sips of the cheap wine he'd picked up, your past suspicions about his intentions dissipating with every passing moment. He pulled out the Lego set, a Star Wars battle ship, and felt himself grow even more comfortable in your presence when he discovered that you were also a fan.

The date had ended with Miguel dropping you off at your dorm room, his hands wrapped around your waist as he tried to prolong your leaving. You looked up at him, a small smile on your lips as you pushed a strand of hair away from his forehead. He leaned down, his hands practically moving you closer as his lips gently brushed yours. "Is this okay?" he murmured, his hands gently brushing the back of your neck before you leaned in, your lips enveloping his. The kiss started off tentative and gentle but soon, your hands were wrapped around Miguel's neck as you pulled him closer to you and your lips moved in tandem with his, the taste of him and the wine dizzying. Both of you pulled away a couple seconds later, just taking a moment to take in the moment before he kissed your forehead. "Buenas noches." (good night)

Most of the month had passed by with you two continuing to go on dates, making out in his room, and studying for your biology tests together. The fair had come to town recently and Miguel had gotten you two tickets for today after some relentless begging from your part. He took out the two tickets after he picked you up from your last class, a small grin on his face as he saw the way your eyes sparkled from excitement. "I'll pick you up at eight, chula," he said, leaving you at your dorm as he gave you a kiss on the cheek before walking away. (pretty)

Your jaw dropped when you opened the door, seeing Miguel ditch his usual hoodie and sweatpants apparel for a button down tee with some jeans. He gave you a lopsided smile, leaning down to kiss your cheek as he smelled the crook of your neck. "What if we ditch the fair and stay home?" he murmured, his lips ghosting over your neck before he kissed it. "Very funny, but I did not spend two hours looking at youtube makeup tutorials to stay home," you said, laughing a bit before walking off to your closet to finish getting dressed. You and Miguel had changed in front of each other, made out, and cuddled but you never had sex together. Partly because you were a virgin and you were worried he'd be turned off by your lack of experience given his past and another part being to just general fear of how big he was, how much it would hurt.

You and Miguel walk into the carnival a couple minutes later, looking around at some of the rides before your eyes settled on a My Melody plushie by the ball toss. You ran over, blindsighted by how cute it was and paid the attendant before tossing the balls at the bottles. Miguel walked over, his arms folded as he watched you, the look of determination on your face to get the stupid plushie. He couldn't help but feel bad as he saw the small pout on your lips when you'd missed one of the bottles, deciding to try it out for himself.

"Thank you!" your face practically lit up as he handed you the plushie, a smile forming on his face as he looked at you. He would be willing to do a hundred more of those ball tosses if it meant he got to see you smile like that again. He wrapped his arm around your neck, guiding you towards some rides he'd thought you'd enjoy. He took in every single one of your expressions, basking in how excited you seemed to be even with the most boring rides.

The last ride of the evening had been the ferris wheel, he realized it was a little corny, but he wanted a couple minutes just to have you to himself. He found himself looking at you rather than the view of the city, grabbing your chin so you'd look at him and he dipped his head down, meeting you in a kiss. "Te amo, hermosa," he whispered, his lips moving towards your earlobe as he nibbled slightly. You took a minute to let the words process, and even though you had never really experienced what being in love was like, you found yourself coming to the realization that you were in love with Miguel O'Hara. "I love you," you said, your hand on his cheek as you looked at him before meeting him for another kiss.

You and Miguel had ended up at his dorm after the carnival ended, tongues and mouths clashing as he pinned you against the wall. He took off his shirt and you finally snapped back to it, looking up at him nervously. "Miguel. I'm a virgin," you said, breaking the silence in the room and you saw his eyes flicker into something.. darker. "We don't have to anything you don't want to, chula," he assured you, taking in note of your reaction as he rested his hand on your waist. You took a moment to think about this, really think about this, before looking up at him with a ghost of a smile on your lips. "Can we just try oral for tonight?" you asked, rubbing the back of your neck.

He swore he could've came right then and there with the way you asked him, nodding mindlessly as he went to his bed. He cleared some of his biology books off it, laying down as he looked over you at you. "Sit on my face, princesa," he said, nonchalantly, as he saw the redness start to creep up on your cheeks. You started taking your clothes off, looking at him from the edge of the bed as you nibbled down on your bottom lip. "Are you sure I won't crush your face?" You asked, letting out a little yelp as Miguel pulled you onto the bed. You rested on his lap, his hands settled on your hips as he looked up at you. "You won't hurt me," he reassured you, drawing small circles on your thighs with his fingers.

You slightly hovered above his face as he began to lick a stripe down your pussy, letting out a muffled moan as his hands pressed down on your thighs. “I thought I told you to sit on my face, not hover,” he said, slapping your ass before he pushed your hips down. You fell down to his expecting face, your hands immediately gripping the headboard as you felt his tongue plunge into you. His hands grip on your thighs as he continued to lick and suck on your pussy, your juices coating his lips in the most delicious way possible. Your hands tangled in his hair, tugging on the strands gently and he let out a moan, the vibrations making you grind against his face.

He encouraged you to grind on his face, moving your hips against his face as his tongue continued to lick in your pussy, plunging in the most delicious angle possible. He replaced his tongue with his fingers, scissoring them to work his way in as his mouth closed around your engorged clit. His tongue ran small circles around your clit, his fingers working in tandem as he curled them, hitting that spot inside of you. You moved your hips against his fingers, moaning out incoherent strings of his name as you felt something building up in your lower stomach. "Miguel, I feel like I have to pee," you moaned out, but he continued with his ministrations, only intensifying them after you said that. Your back arched as you released into his mouth, looking down to see him licking his lips and the side of his mouth. "Que deliciosa," he said with a small chuckle, getting you off of him. (how delicious)

You looked down at the obvious bulge in his pants, seeing his almost pained expression and he was about to reassure you that you didn't need to return anything, but you got down on your knees rendering him speechless. You slid off his boxers, picking up some of the precum with your finger and licking it off. "Tell me if you want me to something different, okay?" You told him before you brought your mouth closer to his reddening tip. You started off sucking it slowly, his hands making their way to your hair while one of your hands started to pump his length. You took more of him in your mouth, getting adjusted to how big he was before you started to bob your head. He let out soft moans and whispers of your name as you continued, feeling in complete bliss as you did so. You looked up at him, your doe eyes almost making him come right then and there as his hand worked on guiding your head, never forcing you.

He felt himself coming closer to that edge as you licked on a vein, feeling goosebumps forming on his skin. You took all of his cock in your mouth, feeling your eyes water as you adjusted to having him in so deep. You looked up at him and he let out a raggedy moan as he came in your mouth, maintaining eye contact with you. He helped you get up from the floor, dipping his head down to meet you for a kiss.

He cleaned in between your thighs with a warm washcloth, cleaning himself off as well before walking over to his dresser. He took out a shirt, handing it to you with a small smile. "Stay the night," he offered, looking at you expectantly. You nodded, taking the shirt from him and putting it on, the material falling over you like a dress. You both laid down on his bed, your breathing in tandem as you laid on his chest. "You're not pissed off we didn't have sex right?" You asked out of the blue, not wanting this thing you had going on with Miguel to end. He let out a small laugh, his hand stroking your hair as he answered, "Claro que no, mi amor. Even if it's not with me, don't let anyone pressure you into something you're not ready for." You couldn't help but feel your heart melt a bit as he spoke, your legs tangling with his. "When I do feel ready.. I'd like for it to be with you," you whispered, kissing his cheek. (of course not)

Peter had seen the events at the fair, shocked to say the least, at how obvious Miguel was being with his feelings towards you. He decided to give Miguel a wake up call tomorrow, remind him that this was all part of the deal, that he wasn't meant to be going out and falling in love with you. He knew how it ended with his last girlfriend, Xina, and how detached he had been from everything, a shell of his former self.

You walked over to Miguel's dorm, about to knock on the door when you heard him talking with Peter about something. You didn't mean to eavesdrop, obviously, but you were also curious to know what his friend's opinion was about you. "Dude, don't lose track of what we're doing here. you're not supposed to actually fall in love with her," you heard Peter say, your eyes widening a bit as Miguel let out a chuckle. "As if I could actually fall in love with her. she's nothing but just another bet, man."

The words rung through your ears, but you blinked back the tears that were threatening to come out as you forced yourself to knock on Miguel's door. you saw the surprise flash across his face for a split second, exchanging a look with Peter before looking back at you stoically. You wanted to cry, you wanted to beat yourself up for being so stupid and falling for his charms the same you'd reprimanded your friends, but you swallowed that all back and simply said,

"I left my biology textbook in here."

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delirious-donna · 1 month

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Coffee And A Smoke [Higuruma Hiromi]

an: another suggestion for Hiromi that I couldn’t pass up. I feel like this has potential for more but I’d really have to do some plotting and brain crunching before I could commit.

pairing: Higuruma Hiromi x female reader

warnings: smoking (is it obvious from this that I don’t smoke and never have? I hope not but…), SFW, very light flirting if you squint, mention of toxic habits, alcohol mention

Masterlist

Higuruma always felt a pang of sympathy for new starts. They had a habit of reminding him of his earliest days as a freshly qualified lawyer, his excitement to change the world and be the type not to back away from the difficult fights.

For a while, he had been that man and took on David and Goliath level cases to test his resolve, to prove that a person with enough determination and hard work could be the victor. Sadly, it didn’t last long.

He hoped you wouldn’t fall from grace quite so quickly or inelegantly as he had once done. Hiromi might not care for his reputation being tarnished these days, the dross he was tossed like it was a kindness to him, but he would never wish it upon anyone else.

You appeared only a handful of years younger than he was, and he wondered if you were maybe late to the career. It made him wonder how bad your previous line of work might have been to make you consider this circle of hell as your new livelihood. There was more than a chance that he would never know, he didn’t exactly draw people to him in the workplace. Rather he was looked upon mostly like a kicked puppy that everyone felt sorry for but never approached to comfort for fear of catching fleas.

Picking up his pen, the chewed end finding its home between his teeth, Hiromi returned to his work and put you out of his mind.

“Aren’t you going to introduce me to the man over in the far corner?” You wondered aloud, the young secretary designated to be your ‘day one buddy’ glanced in the direction you were looking and visibly grimaced.

“Another day. He’s busy,” she countered with a wave of her hand.

Frowning at her dismissive tone and attitude, you looked over again and met with tired, hangdog eyes. He blinked, seeming unperturbed and gave a small bow of his head before turning back to his screen. There was something about this man, you couldn’t for the life of you figure it out, but something intrigued you more than it should.

The interaction did not go unnoticed. “That’s Higuruma Hiromi. He’s rather… particular about the cases he takes. Generally, he keeps to himself.”

You wondered if he was lonely, or maybe not well versed in socialising. Whatever it was, there was an aura surrounding his corner of the large office, like a perpetual rain cloud that threatened to rain but the cloud never burst.

With so much to learn and an entire new work environment to navigate, you quickly forgot all about the mysterious Higuruma and focused on finding your feet.

It wasn’t until a few weeks later did you find yourself in his presence. After a tortuous phone call with a troublesome client, you found yourself in desperate need to indulge in the bad habit you had sworn you’d given up, a cigarette.

Stepping outside into the small office courtyard, you fumbled for the emergency packet buried in the depths of your bag. You cursed when you realised you might have the actual cigarette you craved, but there wasn’t a lighter in sight, not even tucked away in one of the handy dandy compartments.

“Need a light?”

You whirled around and nearly landed on your behind at the sudden voice, coming face to face with Higuruma who had the good grace to look sheepish for scaring you out of your skin.

“It seems so,” you said with a shrug, stepping closer as the man held out his lighter and flicked the flame into life for you. “I don’t smoke often.”

Higuruma hummed in understanding, glancing down at his own half-finished cigarette, tapping away the excess ash. “I’d like to say the same, but I’m out here more often than I’d like.”

That first inhale felt like heaven, the heat in your throat a familiar sensation and you held the thick smoke in your mouth as long as you could manage, finally blowing it out in a steady stream into the sky.

“Bad habit?” You asked, leaning against the metal railing that enclosed the small courtyard space. It was cool even through your trousers, grounding you back into the here and now.

“I have a lot of those, smoking is probably the least bothersome. I can go days without a single cigarette, or I could smoke two packets within a single office day. There never seems to be an in between,” he joked.

It was hard not to appraise him whilst you both stood there, enjoying your respective cigarettes. His shirt wasn’t quite the brilliant white of a new or well cared for garment, nor were the tailored creases in his trousers especially neat or crisp. The tie around his throat was loose as if restless fingers had tugged it that way, and his hair was equally as ruffled. Yet, there was still something undefinable that made you smile at these observations, that endeared him to you.

His eyes were adorned with dark circles from sleepless nights but there was a subtly vibrancy to those eyes. The brown irises with golden flecked in the right light and the smattering of laughter lines at the corners assured you that this was a man who liked to laugh, even if you were yet to hear it in the workplace.

He wore an equally tired smile, however, it brightened when you addressed him directly and you wondered if he thought hi would ignore his presence. If that was maybe what he was used to, and that thought didn’t sit well with you.

“Oh yeah? Let me guess… you enjoy a bottle of wine on most nights?”

“Or two,” he countered, making you laugh.

Honestly, you couldn’t understand why he was considered the black sheep of the firm. From everything you had seen and heard, he wasn’t the money grabbing type and maybe that was the reason for him being a pariah, but that wasn’t a reason to brush him off or avoid him outright.

“Y’know… people will talk if they see you chatting with me.” Higuruma crossed an arm over his chest, a defensive gesture if ever you saw one.

You hummed in thought. Not that you really cared what people had to say about you. “I think I can make my own decisions on who I should and should not speak with. Are you always this cautious?”

“Some might say I have no caution at all.”

“Then why are you trying to warn me off?”

Higuruma’s eyebrows rose into his hairline, a plume of smoke emitted from between his pursed lips to momentarily obscure his face. “Didn’t realise I was under cross-examination. You’ll go far,” he mused before crushing out the remnants of his smoke and bringing out a packet of mints from his pocket.

“I don’t know about that… this career isn’t exactly what I anticipated.”

He waited, sensing there was more you wanted to share, and he had no desire to scare you away or shut you down prematurely. You couldn’t put your finger on the reason why you wanted to confide in him, perhaps you felt some kind of kindred spirit in him but that would be foolish having known him all of five minutes.

“Higuruma, do you fancy a coffee? My treat,” you offered in a rush. Embarrassed by how nervous you were to ask at your big age, and more so worried that he would refuse you flat out.

“I’d like that, but there is something I’d like much more.”

You held your breath, not knowing what he could possibly wish for more. He chuckled at your look of concern, stepping forward to offer you a mint from his pack.

“I’d really like to know your name.”

#delirious writes #higuruma hiromi #higuruma x reader #higuruma fluff #higuruma hiromi x reader #jjk higuruma #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #tw smoking

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velaryqns · 1 year

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ok awesome :) could i please request a james wilson x fem!reader where reader is a young (of age) nurse or intern at the hospital and her and james have been seeing each other but not really labeled it, and she finds out she’s pregnant? maybe her and james are excited but someone at the hospital points out their age gap and james’ failed marriages and is just an asshole about it idk. feel free to write whatever you’d like! thank you so much <3

I DONT CARE,

Fandom: House MD

Pairing: James Wilson x Female Reader

Warnings: pregnancy, age gap (reader is in her 20s, James would be in his 30s/40s), slight angst, divorce, people being assholes, Greg House being Greg House, there’s a little time jump: sorry not sorry.

Notes: you best believe I was quick to write this. I love me some James Wilson and he doesn’t get enough love. I had so much fun writing this pen.

You sat in silence, the test in front of you as you stared at it. Cuddy had sent you home because of how sick you had felt throughout the day. And it wasn’t getting better no matter how much you insisted. You had made sure to tell your James goodbye before you headed out to return to your apartment.

James said he would be at your place later that night, and you accepted this. He knew you hadn’t felt well, and only checked to see if you needed him to bring you anything; you didn’t.

You hadn’t voiced concerns to James about the possibility of being pregnant. When you’d first started getting close to him people made sure to inform you of his bad luck with relationships. He’d been divorced three times and his girlfriend before you had passed away in a horrible bus accident. Hospital staff continuously told you there would be no reason to have a relationship with James, this included his best friend: Greg House.

So far, you’d been grateful you didn’t listen to them.

You could hear the keys jingle in the door and only turned toward it to greet him. James walked in and the smell of takeout food was comforting, you hoped you could keep it down.

“Hi hon,” you called out, rising to your feet and grabbing the takeout bags. James insisted on keeping the bags until you leveled him with a playful glare that admittedly flustered him every time it was sent his direction. His feeble arguments failed and you took the bag with you to the table, setting it down and glancing over at the test, “I think I found out why I’ve been so sick.”

“Oh really?” James came up behind you, an arm wrapping around his waist as he took a glance at what you were staring at. His eyes went wide and a small smile formed on his face as he turned you to face him, “Oh honey, this is amazing!”

“Are you sure?” You questioned, laughing at his excitement and wrapping your arms around his neck, “Only Cuddy and House know about our relationship…”

“And that’s all that matters,” he reassured you, his lips gently meeting your own, “Let’s eat and head to bed, we can get you to a doctor and then tell Cuddy.”

You hummed, lowering you face to rest on his shoulders while he gently rubbed your back. You did just as James had suggested, and the next morning he had scheduled you an appointment. He made sure it wasn’t at the hospital you both worked at, knowing that the news would get out faster if that was the case.

James reluctantly went off to work, being Head of Oncology never rests, and you headed to the appointment on your own. You had a reason for why the father wasn’t there, and sat through your appointment in mostly silence.

Once you had your ultrasound pictures in hand you made your way back to the hospital. You checked in with Cuddy, then ventured to James’ office. You were already pulling the photos out when you saw Cameron, Taub, and Foreman standing in the room. You quickly slammed the pictures to your chest, eyes wide as you looked at James.

His eyes landed on the photos, then he gave a small nod, “I will handle House in a moment, could I please have a moment alone in my office?”

The team glanced toward you, but then filed out and left you in silence. Once you were certain they were far enough away, you walked to his desk and set the pictures on your desk. A smile spread across his face at the sight, and he lifted it up, “This is amazing.”

Time passed and to say the both of you were excited was an understatement. While you still hadn’t put a label onto your relationship, you two were still going to welcome a child into the world. James insisted on you moving in with him, and you jumped at the opportunity. Cuddy and House were the first to know, then House’s team, and then word slowly traveled by ear around the hospital.

You were sitting at the nurses station, trying to relax in between patients. You ran your hand over your small bump, glancing up as House limped in with a paper clip. Foreman and Chase were close behind him.

“Clinic hours?” You questioned. Greg hummed, bored and nodding as he continued past you and into a room. You stood and grabbed a stack of files to figure out which patients were his or not. Knowing that most nurses couldn’t tolerate House, you automatically fell into the position of being the nurse to help him.

“Still can’t believe you’re the girl who got Wilson to settle,” Foreman muttered. You raised a brow in confusion, “We all know how relationships go for him. Who says adding a baby into the mix will be any different?”

You were silent for a moment, pulling your hands away from the files and watching Foreman, “James and I have been perfectly fine, thank you.”

You returned to your tasks, but Chase wanted to add onto the doubts, “And what about the age difference? Everyone knows about it now. Doesn’t it concern you to be having a baby with someone who’s older than you?”

“What goes on in my relationship is my business,” you snapped, dropping the files to the counter and feeling the eyes of other nurses on you, “He is my partner, not yours. He is the father of my child, not yours. And that’s all that matters to me. I don’t care about our age difference or his past relationships. Why? Because I do love him, and unless you two want to be romantically involved with him I don’t see why you care about my relationship with James.”

You turned to the other nurses who watched you with wide eyes, “I’m sorry to dump this onto you, but could one of you help House for a moment? I need a moment.”

“Of course,”

Once you received your response you walked away from the nurses station, tears welling in your eyes. You forcefully wiped them away as you opened the door to James’s office. You knew he would be with patients, so you shut the door and moved to the couch in his room.

Sprawling into the sofa you stared at the ceiling while resting a hand on your stomach. You didn’t plan on dozing off, but it eventually happened at some point you were awoken by James gently shaking you awake.

“Cuddy sent me to find you,” he said softly, helping you sit up as he remained crouched in front of you, concern on his features, “Are you alright?”

“Are you worried about having a baby with someone…younger?”

He looked concerned, taking your hands and shaking his head, “Where is this coming from?”

“Everyone has been talking about it since news got out,” You murmured, already feeling your tears ready to fall. James’s brown eyes were filled with so much worry as he rubbed his hand on your knee, trying to comfort you, “You can’t expect me to believe you haven’t heard it.”

“Of course I have, from House himself,” James informed you, then he shrugged, “But I don’t care. We love each other and this baby, and that’s what matters to me. Your age is the least of my concerns, and so are past relationships.”

Your eyes met his own, and you gave a small smile as he reached up to cup your cheek, wiping tears away, “I hope our baby learns so much from you.”

He only chuckled while you leaned down and kissed him. You pulled away and his brown eyes watched you lovingly. He smiled, “Let’s go get you and little one some food.”

James stood and helped you to your feet, arms wrapped around your waist as you shared another brief kiss. You two walked beside one another to the cafeteria, and when you saw House and his team you froze slightly, but James being beside you kept you going.

You each grabbed your food, James making sure you got everything that was healthy for you and the baby, then joined House and the team. Chase watched you closely as you settled in a chair, fighting for comfort while James watched in silence. He was never one to take away your physical tasks, but would still silently fuss over you.

You began eating your lunch, but the team’s eyes didn’t leave you. You shared a glance with James and he remained silent, so you sat up straight, “Is there something you all need?”

“You’ve been crying,” House pointed out rather abruptly, “Either your hormonal or the reality of the father of your child has come crashing done on you.”

James heaved a sigh, dropping his fork and leveling a glare at House. You place your hand over his, silencing him so you could speak, “There is no reality to it. James is the man I love, we’re having a baby, and that’s that.”

Chase’s eyes widened briefly, and Foreman quickly returned to eating his food. House studied you for a moment, and you only watched in response, clenching your jaw and feeling James take your hand in his own.

You silently returned to your meal, and after a moment: James did as well. There was a smug look on his face that he was thankful you hadn’t noticed.

It was later that night, after you had both gone home, when you were changing into your pajamas. You were silent as James walked in, he tucked his hands in his pockets as he watched you for a moment.

“I don’t think Chase or Foreman will say something again, or House for that matter,”

You turned to him, gaze softening as you sat on the bed, “They can say what they want. I don’t care.”

With that you laid down on your side, turning off your lamp and waited in silence for James to join you.

And sure enough, he did.

#fanfic #fanfiction writer #oneshots #reader insert #gregory house x reader #house x reader #james wilson x reader #allison cameron #gregory house #house md

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d3wdropz · 6 months

Text

Muzan Kibutsuji ~ Drabble

A/N: I'm kind of tired but I wanted to push this little thing out cause this manz is on my mind

This is my first post that's not horny- so plz be gentle

Synopsis: Muzan's experimenting with different chemicals and plant life, Y/n is bored

Content Warning: SFW, gender neutral!reader, demon!reader, canon!muzan, fluff, (as fluffy as this man can be)

This very cool banner was created by @path2venus !

Complete silence, boring, lifeless silence. It's what Muzan preferred, allowing him the chance to focus on his research. He was content in tinkering with different botanicals, writing down any new findings, and testing out new theories.

One could say that this was his favorite activity, even with the clumsy demon behind him breaking another vile.

Muzan didn't flinch at the sound of glass shattering, it's become a common noise over the past hundred years. There was once a time when he would fly into a cold rage over it, but it only ended with more broken materials. Not to mention you were left crying and uspet with him after.

Letting out a sigh, he turned his head and looked at your fallen body on the ground. In front of you, just a little too far from your outstretched hands, was the broken vile. The tension in his brows lessened when he saw that it was empty.

"Thankfully, you didn't break something of value," he spoke, mostly to himself. He then turned back to his notebook, readying his pen once again.

Behind him, you huffed and sat up, shaking your hands to rid them of any last bits of glass. You were so bored! These moments of silence and thought brought you little entertainment after so many years. You used to read books while Muzan worked, but after so long you've run out of literature.

About two decades ago you started finding more interest in leaving Muzan to experiment on his own. While you left, he was quiet and focused on his table of instruments. To your surprise, though, when you came back to the infinity castle, Muzan greeted you with a sharp glare and strong grip on your jaw, forcing eye contact.

He scolded you for leaving, questioned if you found him so disinteresting that you'd seek fun elsewhere. It didn't take long for you to realize why he was so upset: this silence was his relaxation time, and he'd grown used to you being there.

Muzan is not an affectionate man by any means. But in his own weird way, he shows you he cares. One example being right now, him being relaxed around someone- something that's more rare than the blue spider lily he's searching for.

So, with little complaint, you always join him in this downtime. You've just found more ways to make it fun.

"Muzan," you pout out the word, lounging on the comfortable, crimson chair across from him. "You know I really do enjoy this time we spend together, but- and in no offense to you, my love- I'm growing bored."

Before you could even finish your sentence, Muzan's intense, ruby eyes darted up to look you. He was waiting for you to continue, silently warning you to choose your next words wisely less you get a swift, nonlethal cleave to your appendages.

Closing your eyes, you leaned against your palm, "I adore spending time with you, really. But I need to do something, too. You won't let me help you after the last time," a shiver runs down your spine as you remember the terrifying lecture you received after it, "so if you don't want me to keep pestering you and wrecking your things, give me something. Anything at this point."

His glare softened before he shut his eyes and took in a deep breath, exhaling through his nose to calm himself down, "Fine, come over here and watch," his eyes shot open again, deep and serious, boring into you, "but if you so much as touch a pen without my permission, I'll cut off your head just as I did before and leave you to deal with the aftermath yourself."

A soft smile spread across your face as you skipped over to his side, wrapping your arms around his own, careful to not touch the tweezers in his hand. With a sigh of content, you nuzzled your face into his shoulder.

"See? This is all I wanted, Muzan, some care and attention," you beamed up at him before looking to the plants layed out before him.

Without tearing his eyes from the beaker and plants in his hands, he hummed, very gently leaning his head against your own. "You're lucky I find your company enjoyable," he mumbled.

You ran your hand up and down his arm, feeling the silk of his sleeve, "I love you too."

#kny x reader #kny #kimetsu no yaiba #muzan kibutsuji #muzan x reader #kny muzan #demon slayer muzan #muzan x y/n #muzan imagine #demon slayer #muzan fluff #muzan x you #i tried #in character #hopefully

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euijoosorangeslice · 6 months

Note

Can I request teacher k and spanking please? Thank you!!1

A+

warnings: teacher-student relationship, cheating, slight non-con (power difference), age gap (reader is a uni student and k is well…a teacher. At most 7 year age gap), fingering, oral {fem recieving}, harddom!k, exbhitionism; creampie, spanking.

Your first year of college was coming to a close. You had mostly all A’s, except for in one class. In Mr. Koga’s class, you had mostly slept for the entire year. Who wants to be awake at 8am on a Monday after getting blackout drunk the night before?

But you landed yourself a D in his class. Barely, since you were only three points away from failing that class. The final exam was worth half your grade anyway, so if you could just ace it then you’d be in the clear! As soon as the test was placed in front of you, your heart dropped. Shit. You had no idea how to do anything on this paper. Okay, what the hell is a hypotenuse?

You just bubbled random answers and sat there until the testing time was up. Let’s just hope your instincts were amazing. As your teacher started instructing on what courses you’d need to take next for which credits, you found it easy to get lost in his eyes. Was it wrong to want to kiss your teacher? His lips looked pretty nice today, maybe it wouldn’t be too bad dating an older guy.

You shook the thoughts from your head when the Mr.Koga stared passing back exams. He tapped a finger on your desk, your imagination running wild with the veiny orientation of his hand. "You need to see me after class." Mr. Koga whispered, sliding your exam onto your desk. You picked up the test, and low and behold, you got a 45%. Fuck, couldn't atleast get a fifty? Now you were definitely failing his class. He finished passing out tests, going on some dumb rant about how many people passed over the failed amount, which was practically everyone but you.

Maybe you were just a dumbass. Anyway, your professor dismissed the class and you walked over to his desk, swaying your hips as your tiny little skirt hugged your ass. "Y/n, I'm quite concerned with your scores on your test." He looked up, seeing your cute boobs being pushed up by your tight little shirt. "I've never had anyone do this bad on my exams. Is everything okay at home?" He leaned back in his chair, watching as you bit on the back of your black pen.

You pouted, placing a hand on his desk. "I don't know, Mr. Koga. I think I've been having a hard time focusing. This class is fucking boring." His eyebrows furrowed roughly, scoffing. "I'm sorry? Do you think my class is a joke?" You leaned over his desk, giggling in his face. "Mr. Koga, I barely even know what class this is."

"I don't appreciate your attitude, sweetie. You need to act right or I'm gonna have to punish you." You squeezed your thighs together at his harsh tone. Fuck, that's definitely a turn on. "Oh yeah? What are you gonna do? Suspend me?" You teased, Kei sucking his teeth. "I could do that. Or I could give you another option," Kei stood up, placing himself inches away from your face.

"You could fuck me for an A. I know you've been thinking of me like that. So I could report you, or I could fuck you. Bend you over my desk and make you a good girl just for me, hm? Is that what you want?" You could've sworn you were dreaming. You hopped over his desk, bending over into his lap. "Oh, Mr. Koga. I think I need some help making a decision."

Wasting no time, he pulled you by your hair and grabbed your waist. "Let's take these dumb panties off." He grumbled, your chest pressed against the cold wood table as he lifted your skirt. "I'm starting to think you're really a slut. Wearing a lacy thong to school? You just want me inside of you." He pulled the underwear down, looking at your wet folds. "Aw, you really want me bad. Dripping all over my floor." He slapped your ass, watching you slightly jump. "Fuck! Mister Koga." You whined, arching your back into his touch. "Call me sir."

He slid two of his fingers into your hole, caressing your ass as he slowly slid them in. Randomly spanking you as he fingered your hole. "Yes, sir!" He chuckled, unbuckling his slacks. "Where'd that attitude go baby? I thought you wanted to be a brat." He teased, roughly spanking your ass. "I'll be a good girl, promise!" He gripped your thighs, kneeling down to be facing your wetness. He buried his face into your ass, taking a long, deep breath in. "Fuck, such a pretty little girl." He spat, tonguing your clit as he put his fingers deeper inside of you. You squirmed, Kei holding you in place.

"Sir, i-it feels so good! Please, need you in me." You moaned, gripping the desk as you felt the sensation of your boobs rubbing against the wood. He pulled away from your dripping wet pussy, dropping his slacks to the floor. He picked you up, placing you onto your back. He started chuckling to himself. "Damn. I forgot to lock the door. Anyone could just walk in and see you slutting out for your teacher." He palmed his cock, grabbing it from his boxers and slowly shoving it into you without warning.

"Wait, S-sir 'm a virgin!" You squeaked in pain, Kei quickly pulling out. "Really? Shit, I'm sorry, angel. Here, I think I have lube in my bag." Kei squirted some of the cold gel onto his fingers rubbing it over his dick. "Alright, I think that's enough." He mumbled, massaging your thighs. "I'm going in now, okay?" You nodded rapidly, feeling his tip push past your entrance. "Sorry for the stretch." He whispered into your ear, holding your hip as he pushed further in. "F-fuck!" You moaned, feeling like Kei was inside of your womb. "I'm all in. You want me to keep going?"

"Yes, sir. Think I'm ready." You whispered, Kei slightly pulling out and pushing back in. He picked up his pace, lifting your leg over his shoulder. "Fuck, your pussy feels so good. Tight little girl, hm?" Your boobs bounced against your chest as he moved, your eyes rolling back. "Mm, Sir! Feels so good." You moaned loudly, Kei smirking. "Yeah? Damn, you're definitely getting an A for this. Never felt a cunt like this before baby." He spoke, accenting his words with a few hard thrusts. His hand slid down to your clit, vigorously rubbing it as he drilled his cock inside of you.

Feeling your orgasm approach, your legs began to close, but Kei forced them back open. "Don't be shy, angel. I know I'm making you feel good. Just go ahead and cum for me." Your legs crossed behind his back, forcing him to stay inside of you. "You want me to cum inside of your pretty little hole? Tryna get knocked up by your teacher, aren't you?" He sped up, chasing his own orgasm. "Yes! Fuck, please cum inside of me sir." You begged, Kei groaning in pleasure. As you reached your orgasm, you clenched around him, making him cum inside of you.

"Shit. Fuck, I-I'm going to be in so much trouble of you get knocked up." Kei mumbled, his brain starting to reason with himself. You giggled, slowly sitting up onto his desk. "I think you should be more concerned about cheating on your wife, Mr. Koga." He rolled his eyes, massaging your thighs. "Well, we need a divorce anyway." You smiled, placing a kiss on his cheek. "If you want to get remarried, I think I know a good candidate. She might be having your baby."

#&team imagines #&team #&team x reader #&team smut #&team hard hours #&team k

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shadesofmauve · 1 month

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Colors!

My thumb's been fucked up by a steroid shot to the point where I can't hold a pen to draw, but the light touch of a watercolor brush is mostly okay, and I had dot cards for Daniel Smith and DaVinci paints, so I've spent the last few weeks unleashing my manic color goblin.

Friends, I've painted so many happy little rectangles. And it has been a journey.

I've found that one of the most-referenced sources for pigment lightfastness is a hard-coded website straight out of the 90s that also talks about UFOs and human evolution. (I don't know what the guy says about human evolution, because I'm afraid to find out, but it makes me very happy that a site like that still exists).

I've learned you can make lovely purples with a cool red and phthalo green, which actually MAKES SENSE, I GUESS, but is still a bit weird and awesome even though I understand the color theory.

I've painted with the Danger Colors.

(Cobalt, manganese, chromium, and cadmium. DO NOT LICK).

I've finally spelled phthalo often enough that I can remember it!

And I've fallen deeply, desperately in love, then had my heart broken.

It's name was DaVinci Phthalo Turquoise (pigment code PB16). When I painted it out it was beautiful; smoothly flowing into a perfect fade, the deepest, most inviting pool of cool, saturated perfect teal. I burst into song. A choir of angels descended to sing backup vocals. I never used to believe in love at first sight, but I was wrong.

...then it dried.

It dulled so much. It was still fine. Nothing special, but fine. Whatever. I'm over it. I am a strong, independent artist. I don't need that kind of negativity in my life.

There's still all the other colors. Colors that didn't betray me. Much.

Here, Monkey is helping model the last swatch tests, which helped me choose which cool red to buy. The phone doesn't capture all the nuance, but they also started out fairly close. (I went with column 3, DaVinci's PV19 quinacridone rose madder).

So... if you're one of those tenacious, patient people who follows my fic, and you've been wondering why I haven't posted, I suppose I really just have one thing to say:

Colors go brrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

#watercolor #pigments #painting #color swatches #so many colors #so satisfying to line them up in rows #colors go brrrrr #Shades makes art #?#traditional art #danger colors #mmmm cobalt

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weemsicallygay · 1 year

Text

the touch of a witch

pairing/s: larissa weems x original female character (edith sinclair)

warning/s: bad grammar, inaccurate french translations for pet names and that larissa is very, very clingy in this

prompt/s: 2 times larissa wanted to be held but was too shy/couldn't say + the 1 time she didn't have to

wow 2 larissa fics in a day? i'm on a whim! blame my brainrot for soft/clingy!larissa for this <3

to say her hands ached for her lover's touch was the understatement of all understatements. larissa stared at her girlfriend from her place on her office couch, she thought of how much it’d be a comfort to have edith hold her softly and snugly.

her eyes glared at the stack of papers on her desk, edith sat comfortably in her chair as she kept on grading test papers from her Dark Arithmetics class. though talented in the arts of telepathy, archery, and spell binding, the witch preferred the numericals more than the supernatural which led to her being the head professor in that profession.

“i swear with how you’re glaring, you’d be able to set the papers on fire, my sweets.” larissa jumped, edith’s voice echoed in the once silent room.

with only the sound of crickets from the outside, larissa blushed. she swore the warmth of the fireplace managed to travel to her cheeks, blood rushed and her gaze fell elsewhere.

she pouted, “i’m sorry darling.”

edith stopped her scribbling, “what for, ma cheri?” she grinned at the sight of her poor, flushed girlfriend.

“i’m merely teasing, you did not offend me in any way, my darling.” her silky voice murmured as she put away the last paper onto the other pile.

edith placed her pen on one of her holders before she grabbed another pile and went through them one by one, larissa sat back as she achingly watched edith’s fingers go through each paper and scan them purposefully.

she wanted to voice out what she wanted, she wanted to tell edith that she demanded her well deserved cuddles and that she demanded her undivided attention. but knowing edith’s workload, even tho she was the school’s principal and had more on her plate than her lover’s, she knew better than to distract her darling from what she needed to do.

larissa meekly stared at the fire and watched the flames dance, silently sitting like the good girlfriend she was as she waited. she was going to get her cuddles one day.

she sighed, another day of wanting to hold her lover in her arms yet another failed attempt to do so. a week has passed since that fateful night, and she’d received plenty of skinship from her girlfriend without asking for it. yet every time she wanted to ask for it, every time she needed her lover’s hold, it seemed as if it was always at the wrong place and wrong time.

the feast of the full moon, the event that made it so hard for larissa to keep edith to herself. as one of the most powerful witches in the school, and the most talented one at that, edith was sure to be the busiest of all the faculty present. although seated as the principal and the one in charge, the responsibility of magic fell upon edith’s hands seeing as it was her duty to make sure all the students were safe and having fun.

from supervising the prop-making for the full moon theater production by the cappella group led by bianca, to making sure that the furs won’t be able to transform so they may enjoy it with their peers, edith’s hands were full and overloaded. but the smiles on each of their faces were enough to satisfy her, though it was mostly the smile on larissa’s face as she distracted herself with watching the performances.

she huffed as she sat back and admired the small gathering, larissa had since lectured wednesday to have fun and instructed enid not to stare too hard at the moon when basking time as to take away some of the pressure from edith’s hands.

larissa found her love with her eyes half lidded and her chin on her palms by the fountain, her eyes were heavy but her body betrayed that feeling as she felt light under the guidance of the moon. wisps of dark blue magic moved from edith’s fingertips to her eyes to keep them open, she laughed to herself as the woman used her magic to keep herself awake. she gave in to her inner demons as she walked towards the witch and sat next to her, her arms grabbing the woman’s torso into a back hug with a smile.

the witch froze, “sweetheart, the children-”

“do not worry about them, i’m sure they’re much busier with the festivities than focusing on their faculty.” larissa grinned over edith’s shoulder, ignoring the soft stares of the students.

the latter let out a deep sigh, sinking into larissa’s arms with a smile. “you always know what to do and say.”

if larissa wasn’t going to get her cuddles, she might as well give them instead.

another late night of working in their now shared office, larissa was growing tired of once again being touch starved for the week. as she typed into her computer, the sound of scribbling and page shuffling were heard from her other side as edith occupied herself with grading and transcribing.

the taller of the two figured that if she weren’t going to get her alone time, she might as well spend waiting for her girlfriend to finish by being productive. now here she was, writing e-mails and reading letters from the board, the students, their parents, and even some officials.

as her eyes grew tired at viewing the same conflicts over and over, they moved to edith’s figure. the witch wrote elegantly, like she wasn’t tired from a full academic day and from their little bedroom session just a few hours prior. larissa was about to give up and lean her head on her desk in defeat when she heard edith’s voice.

“y’know, you’ve been staring at me funny lately.” edith closed the book she viewed before standing from her seat.

larissa had to stop herself from gulping out loud at the sight of the witch walking slowly towards her desk, the way her hips effortlessly swayed and her long strides were enchanting.

she raised her brow, “like what?”

when edith reached larissa’s side of the desk, she let her bottom rest on the larissa’s right side. her arms crossed snugly on her waist, “like you wanted to tell me something but you can’t say it.”

larissa averted her gaze, avoiding edith’s calculated ones as she grinned. “i can assure you that i will tell you everything if i were to need something.”

“really? ‘cause a little birdie— or rather a severed hand— told me that you look like you’ve been wanting something for a long time now.”

edith’s hands moved to “walk” towards larissa’s laptop, which occupied an empty email inbox and went to close the device. larissa couldn’t stop her even if she wanted to as the woman’s other hand found itself underneath her chin, now she can’t avoid her gaze for the fear of being suspicious as the woman situated herself in between larissa and the wooden desk.

“you can tell me anything, ma cherie. i can assure you that i won’t judge in any way, shape, or form.” there goes edith’s sweet smile, her little nose crinkle and those pearly whites showing.

the principal sighed, her head leaned forwards and rested on top of the witch’s chest, snugly and fit. “I just..” she trailed.

“sweetheart..” edith softly spoke, the palms of her hands forming circles on larissa’s back as she now sat on larissa’s desk.

the taller of the two dragged her arms to circle edith’s waist and pull her closer, like a child holding a teddy in their arms. her movements were slow and soft, afraid that edith might pull away or push her away. yet the woman did neither of those, instead letting the woman do those at her own pace before letting her arms encase her shoulders to pull her in.

edith placed small kisses on larissa’s forehead and hair, “oh my darling, and here i thought that you wanted something else.”

“it’s ridiculous,” larissa’s voice rang out, muffled by edith’s clothing, she leaned her face away and let her chin rest in between edith’s bosoms.

she huffed, “a woman of my stature, my booming figure, asking for you to hold me? it’s embarrassing.”

edith chuckled, capturing larissa’s lips softly and quickly before smiling. “no such thing is embarrassing, ma arbre cherie.”

she let the taller woman go back to her old position before staring at the moon that watched their little exchangement.

“from now on,” she started, “i want you to tell me all your little cravings. no matter how big or small, from big bouquets to small cuddles. am i clear, my darling?”

she felt the fabric of her dark top move vertically, she chuckled before leaning down closer to larissa’s ear. “i want a verbal response, ma cherie.”

larissa pulled away to place a soft kiss on edith’s lips, “i promise, my darling.”

#principal weems x reader #larissa weems x reader #principal weems #larissa weems #gwendoline christie x reader #gwendoline christie #wednesday #i'm such a sucker for softie!larissa ahaksjdhkjdhjka

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withacapitalp · 1 year

Text

Tell Him (Nothing) Everything Pt 2

Part One Link to ao3

Chapter Two- Second Mistakes

After their disastrous first meeting, Eddie found himself going to Steve’s bakery pretty much every single day. He would wake up, shower, put on at least semi-clean clothes, and walk down to Claudia’s just in time for the morning rush to be over. In fact, the only days he didn’t were Saturday and Sunday, because those were the days that Steve’s brother and his friends would hang around the cafe on and off all day.

Needless to say, Wayne was ecstatic at this sudden one eighty. He had no idea what had happened to drag Eddie out of his depressive spiral, but he was happy about it all the same, and Eddie was happy that his uncle was happy.

There was definitely enough happiness to go around.

He and Steve entered into an easy kind of routine. For five or six hours straight Eddie would sit at the countertop on the far end of the bakery, writing lyrics and bars in his ratty old notebook while Steve ran his cafe and offered Eddie little nibbles to ‘taste test’.

When things were busy Eddie liked to hop the counter to ring people up while Steve packed boxes of sweets and made drinks. And, when things were slow, Steve would turn the music up and dance around while he cleaned. Eddie was forced to put his pen down and watch the sinfully silly delight. There was no point in trying to pretend he wasn’t blatantly staring at Steve’s ass as he wiggled his hips and wiped down tables, singing along to ABBA and Bonnie Tyler in the goofiest voice Eddie had ever heard.

Arguably, that might have been the best part of their new easy whatever this was, but Eddie knew there was something better.

No, the best part was the talking.

Eddie hadn't realized how quiet he had gotten until he was back to jabbering all day long with someone who was easy to talk to. Steve just had this way of getting Eddie to open up, and for the first time since Chrissy, he felt like he had found someone to chat with that didn’t completely exhaust him.

It was mostly because they never talked about anything too heavy. They definitely got to the personal- Steve’s brother, Dustin, was a frequent topic of conversation as Steve fretted about raising him ‘properly’- but they never got to the painful. Eddie didn’t ask why Steve was raising his thirteen year old brother at only twenty three, and Steve never wondered why Eddie was in town when he clearly didn’t belong in a place like Hawkins.

It was fun. It was easy.

It made Eddie feel completely guilty.

He wasn’t sure if he was even allowed to have good things anymore. He had been given the best person in the world, and he had destroyed her, so the universe had decided to give him another wonderful person?

Didn’t it know Eddie was a ruiner?

Well, if the universe hadn’t figured that out yet, then Eddie had resolved to not feel all that guilty about being selfish and keeping Steve when he knew he shouldn’t. He would hoard this happiness until the world righted itself and remembered that he didn’t deserve it.

But for now, it was ten o’clock, and the cafe smelled like berries.

“Helllloooooooooo, hungry customer waiting!” Eddie called out, obnoxiously ringing the bell over and over, needing to drown out both his thoughts and the disgustingly cheerful bubblegum pop playing over the speakers.

“Get out!” Steve singsonged back, his voice growing louder as he came closer.

“You’d miss me too much, Angeleyes,” Eddie replied, walking to his usual spot and hopping up onto the bar stool, not bothering to wait to see Steve come out from the back. Angeleyes was just one of the many nicknames Eddie had come up with for Steve’s…interesting music choices.

“Don’t make fun of ABBA, or I won’t let you sample my new recipe,” Steve pouted as he walked over holding a still steaming tray of delectable goodies. His apron was a soft sea green today, the paw prints an icy blue that matched the polo he was wearing.

Eddie couldn’t stand how cute Steve was, he really couldn’t.

“What’s this one?” Eddie asked, reaching over.

“Watch!” Steve immediately said, pulling the tray back so Eddie couldn’t burn his fingers, “Blackberry lemon crumble bars,”

Steve put the tray down and carefully placed one on a plate, making Eddie’s coffee the way he liked while they waited for the bars to cool down a little.

“I went out with Dustin and the kids this weekend and we picked a ton of them,” Steve said, passing over the plate and the cup. Eddie broke the treat in half, delighting in the shower of crumbs that fell on the china plate shaped like a cat.

The second the flavor hit his tongue he let out an absolutely sinful moan. At the start Eddie had tried to play it up, enjoying the way his noises would make Steve turn bright red, but he quickly realized he didn’t have to exaggerate anything. Steve’s food was just that good.

“Sunshine, I’m gonna propose marriage,” Eddie said, his mouth still full, “Be ready for a big fat ring. I’ll wife you up, and then you can just travel the world with me and bake.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Steve automatically said, laughing softly and ignoring Eddie’s flirting the way he always did. He leaned over the counter, grabbing the other half of the bar and eating it much more delicately, somehow avoiding making a complete mess, “You should’ve come with us. It was a nice hike,”

“Yeah, you lost me at the word ‘hike’. I don’t do hikes,” Eddie joked, conveniently avoiding the real reason he would never spend any time with Steve outside of this cafe, the reason he never came on weekends.

Because not only was the idea of meeting Steve’s little brother was kind of intimidating (A child prodigy with a dungeons and dragons obsession? Yeah that kid was way too cool for his own good), but Eddie also knew that if Dustin didn’t like him, Steve would probably never talk to him again.

Or worse, Dustin might recognize him. Then Steve really would never talk to Eddie again.

“Alrighty no hiking. Then what do you do all day? Besides coming here to bother me,” Steve teased, opening the display case and beginning to place the rest of the bars in a neat uniform row.

“Nothing,” Eddie replied, grabbing his notebook and getting ready for their usual routine to start. He had a pretty good idea for some lyrics about berry kissed lips and tart lemons dripping sour into open wounds.

“Sounds pretty boring,” Steve said idly.

“Relaxing,” Eddie countered, looking up from his book, “You forget- I’m on vacation,”

Well, bereavement. If running away from your entire life to hide at your uncle’s house in Podunk, Indiana could count as bereavement.

“Ah yes, vacation from this mysterious job of yours that I’m not allowed to know anything about,” Steve said with a roll of his eyes. There was no heat in his voice, no edge to his tone, but Eddie’s stomach was starting to drop anyway.

They knew all kinds of things about each other. Eddie knew all about Steve’s time as a high school jackass, and Steve had heard the calamities of Eddie’s own teenage years, but then there were gaps. Huge gaps. Big glaring gaps. Mostly on Eddie’s side.

He couldn’t share most of the things that had happened in his last ten years without revealing his secret. Still, the longer he held onto pretending he was normal, the worse the fallout was going to be when he had to admit he wasn’t.

“You can ask,” Eddie eventually said with a fake casual shrug, “Just no guarantees I’m gonna answer,”

But he would. He had decided that if Steve pressed, if he really wanted to know, he would spill it all. The ball was unknowingly in Steve’s court, and that took the pressure off. Steve was the one who decided when this all ended and reality snuck back into their little corner of the world.

“Nah, you’ll tell me whatever it is when you’re ready,” Steve replied easily, once again keeping them both in suspense. The bell on the door jangled behind Eddie, signaling that customers had just entered. Steve greeted them with a big smile, and then he was walking away from Eddie who unabashedly stared at Steve’s back.

Sunkissed Small Town Atlas, what I wouldn’t give to be on my knees holding your world?

God, Eddie was going to Hell. Those lyrics were even too dirty for Corroded Coffin.

He wrote them down anyway.

“By the way, Dustin burned me some new CDs of stuff he likes,” Steve said later that day when it was just the two of them again. He was elbow deep into the espresso machine, trying to fix something that was broken with the milk frother, and Eddie was about two seconds away from jumping into help him, “I told him that you’re into metal and rock too, and he said that these would be more your speed,”

“Burned CDs,” Eddie said with a soft laugh, coming around the counter and picking up the plastic cases Steve had nodded towards, beginning to rifle through them. They were covered in sharpie doodles and careful writing of every song.

The kid had taste. Most of this was the stuff Eddie grew up on.

“Hey, not all of us can afford music streaming,” Steve shot back, popping his head out of the machine for a second to stick his tongue out at Eddie before burying his face back into the mechanics.

It was good that he did, because if Steve hadn’t, he would’ve seen the way Eddie’s jaw was dropping as he looked at the hand drawn devil mask on one of the CDs. An extremely familiar devil mask.

“Corroded Coffin?” Eddie whispered faintly, all of his extremities starting to go numb.

Was this Steve’s subtle way of telling Eddie he was caught? Was he trying to pull a joke or something?

“Oh yeah, you’ll see a lot of them. He’s totally obsessed with that band,” Steve replied, cursing loudly as the machine began to spit water at him. Eddie abandoned the CDs and hurried over, helping Steve to do battle against his machine

“Dustin really likes them?” Eddie said out of breath, panting as they both tried to come down from the high of fighting against the coffee demon.

“Obsessed,” Steve gushed, grabbing the case with the Corroded Coffin CD and waving it around as he walked over to the player hooked up to the speakers, “He has all their music, a bunch of their records on vinyl, posters and everything. I even saved up to get him and his friends tickets to go see them live,”

Steve’s tone dropped at the last sentence. His brow furrowed, and his face pulled into an uncharacteristic frown as he slipped the CD in. The sound of Eddie’s own voice began to fill his ears. This was one from the before time, back in their MySpace/Youtube era before they recorded their first album.

The kid really was a fan.

It’s raining down.

All around.

Hellfire.

God, sometimes it was hard to not cringe at his old lyrics. Sixteen year old Eddie really thought he was a genius. And his voice was still too high, it hadn’t fully dropped back then. Eddie decided to distract himself from the way the song made him want to curl up in a ball and die, focusing on Steve and the way he still seemed upset.

“You sound disappointed. Not happy that your baby brother is a metalhead?” Eddie asked, keeping his tone light and hoping that would give Steve an out if he didn’t want to talk about what was bugging him.

“Oh no, as long as he’s safe and happy I don’t care,” Steve said dismissively, waving a hand around his head, “I guess I just- you know the tickets I got him? The ones to see this band? They’re totally useless, because they canceled their whole tour.”

“The entire tour?” Eddie blurted out, rearing back with a jolt.

He knew that they had to cancel at least the first few dates because he had disappeared, but the entire eight month tour?! They weren’t even supposed to start touring until next week, and Indianapolis was still three months away.

The other guys were that sure Eddie wasn’t coming back…

To be fair to them, Eddie was also not so sure he was going back. But that had to be a shit ton of money, and without a lead singer or a manager-

Eddie had royally screwed his bandmates. His brothers. He had been so focused on what he needed, he forgot they needed him too. He forgot that without Eddie Munson, there was no Corroded Coffin.

Chrissy would’ve killed him for that.

If he hadn’t killed her first.

Eddie couldn’t help the soft noise that escaped from his throat, and he walked on wooden legs back to his usual corner, tucking himself into the seat and trying to curl up and be as small as possible. Not only was the guilt back, but it had grown devil horns and demon wings, exponentially worse now that Eddie could no longer ignore how many people he was screwing over.

“There’s a really big mystery about it. Apparently something happened to their manager and she died?” Steve continued to babble, completely unaware of the burning fire poker he was jabbing into Eddie’s chest, “The lead singer, Freddy something, was close with her, and after that he just kind of vanished. It was a big media circus,”

Freddy. It wasn’t funny, because nothing about the situation was funny, but Eddie laughed anyway. He laughed, because if he didn’t, he was going to start crying. The laughter bubbled out and spilled across the countertop, sounding nothing like Eddie knew himself to sound like.

“Eds?”

Steve’s warm hand cupped his face, and when Eddie looked up a watery blurry version of Steve was looking back at him, and when he blinked to clear his vision, he became aware of the tear tracks already cutting through his face.

Oh. Apparently he could do both. Eddie had never laughed and cried at the same time, but here he was.

“What happened?” Steve asked, letting his thumb softly brush against Eddie’s cheek, wiping away the tears in a move that was so intimate it sent shivers shooting down his spine.

The last person who had done something like this for him was Chrissy, and that comparison was just one shade too much for him. Eddie untangled himself from Steve and hopped down, going around the counter and grabbing the black apron with white paw prints that Steve left out for him, tying it around his waist and attacking the dishes in the sink with ferocity.

Steve let him, sitting back against the counter and waiting. He had learned in the last few weeks that there were moments where Eddie just needed to do something physical to work out whatever was happening inside of him. The first time it had happened, Eddie had just paced for an hour straight, and he was sure Steve would kick him out when he was done, but the younger man had simply shrugged and offered for Eddie to do the dishes the next time instead.

‘Might as well get some free labor out of it’ had been Steve’s reasoning, and Eddie had wanted to kiss him right then and there.

“Dustin’s pretty upset I bet,” Eddie finally croaked out after he finished rinsing out one of the cat themed mugs. It wasn’t just his bandmates he was letting down, but also all of the fans that had been loyal to them for years and years.

Eddie was letting everyone down.

“Well, he was at first, but he’s trying to be understanding about it. He said it was like if I lost Robin. I can’t even begin to imagine what that would feel like,” Steve said cautiously, as if he wasn’t sure that they should just drop the fact that Eddie had been crying only moments before.

When Eddie didn’t say anything he crept closer, leaning into Eddie’s space to grab a towel and begin to dry the cups on the rack.

“Are you o-” Steve began.

“I’m glad Dustin isn’t too disappointed,” Eddie cut in, unable to hear those words. If he heard them again, then he would tell Steve the truth.

He wasn’t okay. He didn’t know if he was ever going to be okay again.

“I am too. I just wish I hadn’t spent so much money on those stupid tickets. That was Christmas and his birthday gift all in one,” Steve sighed. Eddie flinched at the sound, looking down at the soaped up canister in his hands instead of at the man he had personally screwed out of hundreds, possibly thousands, of dollars.

“You didn’t get a refund?” Eddie asked, unable to believe that the other members of the band wouldn’t give everyone their money back.

“Well some of it,” Steve said, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck, “I got the price of regular admission tickets back, but I got a bunch of extra stuff too- good seats, backstage passes, the works. All of that was apparently nonrefundable.”

“How much was it?”

Eddie didn’t want to know the answer, but he needed to know. He was apparently a masochist now.

“Backstage passes for all six of them plus me to chaperone?” Steve asked rhetorically watching Eddie wince in sympathy, “Yeah, I was feeling that loss for a few months,”

Eddie didn’t have any more dishes, but he had lots of energy, so he grabbed a washcloth and began to wipe down the counters, avoiding Steve’s eyes which he could still feel locked onto his back.

“Geez, you must really hate that lead singer, huh?” Eddie was attempting to go casual, but he was so far from it that it wasn’t even funny, “I mean the dude just disappears because one person died?”

Any second now Steve was going to call him on his weirdness, and Eddie was going to have to blurt out the entire terrible story and try to beg for forgiveness.

“No, not at all,” Steve replied without giving it any thought.

“Really?” Eddie breathed, turning around to stare at Steve with wide eyes. Steve shrugged, going back to fiddling with his coffee machine.

“I don’t really know what happened, but if I lost Robin? I wouldn't want to talk to anybody, let alone jump up onto a stage and try to perform, or act like nothing happened. I think everyone just feels bad. Apparently the fans are still leaving him lots of tweets and stuff. Dustin told me some hashtag was trending for him a couple weeks ago,” Steve said, grabbing his phone with the obvious intent to show Eddie.

He was going to look up Corroded Coffin. Which would lead directly to tons of headlines with Eddie’s face plastered on them.

Eddie was up and moving before he even knew it.

“What are you doing?” Steve asked slowly as Eddie grabbed his wrist and pulled it down, making sure Steve couldn’t look at his phone.

“I don’t wanna see it.” Eddie said in a rush.

He didn’t want his secret exposed, but he also didn’t want the reminder of who he was. He wanted to keep being Steve’s Eddie. A stranger with funny little quips and a refined palate. He wanted to be able to keep being this person for a little while, whoever he was. He didn’t want to go back to being the Eddie that had lost his Robin.

“Please,” Eddie said, lowering his voice to a whisper. Steve stood there blinking at him for a second, staring at Eddie like he couldn’t really make sense of him.

“Alright,” Steve said, finally hesitantly agreeing. Eddie breathed out a long slow sigh of relief, leaning back against the counter and letting go of Steve’s wrist.

“You’re a really nice person, Steve Harrington,” He said with a tired grin.

“And you’re a very confusing person Eddie Eddie,” Steve shot back with an incredulous little laugh. He pushed off of his own counter and held a hand out, “But you are a good taste tester. Now come back here and help me make this next batch of crumble bars perfect. I think it might need a frosting,”

Eddie went willingly, the sound of his own voice over the speakers filling his ears.

#Steve harrington #Eddie munson #Steve and eddie #stranger things au #steddie au #steddie #steddie fic #rockstar eddie munson #baker Steve harrington #modern au #st au #Liam speaks up #Writing(withacapitalW)#Dustin henderson #Chrissy Cunningham

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doobnnoob-tf2 · 1 year

Note

Hello!! The last ask got me thinking about a different kind of dream. What do u think the mercs wanted to be when they grew up when they were kids?

Scout: there's no surprise here, he always wanted to be a professional baseball player. things just didn't work out in school for him and he was desperate for money

Soldier: he's the only one who sorta got his wish. he wanted to go into the army like his father, but was denied after he failed several tests. mercenary work is close enough, but not quite as respected if the townsfolk are any indication

Pyro: they never really had a dream job. they were always happy with whatever it is they were doing at the time. that is, until they and a couple others on the team went to go see Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. it was that very moment they discovered their dream job

Demoman: he wanted to do so many different things. growing up, he was constantly changing his dream career. one week he'd wanna run an oddities museum, the next he wanted to be a treasure hunter. the issue was he was always pushed towards "real" jobs, not those "fantasy kid dreams that'll never make real money"

Heavy: he wanted to be an amateur author on the side, but mostly wanted to get into professional boxing. it was unfortunate timing that the events of his past happened, and by the time his family escaped the gulag he was more focused on protecting them than following his dreams

Engineer: he grew up wanting to take over the family farm. he sees the Conagher intelligence as both a blessing and a curse, really. it caused him to be guided towards his engineering career he currently has, working for Mann Co. like every Conagher man before him had. all he wanted was a simple farm life

Medic: he wanted to head his own hospital. become known around the world for the miracles he could do, the impossibilities he could overcome. sadly though, no one in the field was interested in his ideas and he was constantly mocked and shut out. he has a genuine chip on his shoulder towards the medical field as a whole

Sniper: he was actually pushed more towards taking over the sheep farm from his parents but instead found himself in his current career. it wasn't what he dreamed of doing either. he wanted to be a zookeeper, which was frowned upon thanks to Saxton. he always had a love for animals and dreamed of what it'd be like to dedicate his days to taking care of so many different and exotic kinds of them

Spy: [REDACTED]

Someone needs to take that pen away from Spy. Oh well, I'll have to save it for that Spy's backstory headcanon post I keep working on. ..no wait, no Spy I didn't say anything. stop, wait- [RANDOM CRIT]

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #tf2 headcanons #tf2 scout #tf2 soldier #tf2 pyro #tf2 demoman #tf2 heavy #tf2 engineer #tf2 medic #tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #sharing one braincell

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pushing500 · 6 months

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Hi Gracie, I'm hoping you might have some advice for me. My colonists are starving, because I have more people than I know how to feed. Is there any way I can tell them to stop feeding their meals to the animals?

They keep cooking meals, feeding the meals to the animals, and then eating raw meat and being sad about it!

It's mostly the dogs they're feeding the meals to, too, because the haygrass finally grew enough for the pen animals. And dogs can eat raw meat just fine, so it would make way more sense to feed the dogs the meat instead.

(I am trying to solve the underlying problem by 1. assigning more people to plants so they will sow the fields my current farmers are apparently neglecting, and 2. increasing the population cap of my animals so that they produce more excess, but both these things take time and in the meantime they are constantly running out of food and I'm hunting pretty much every wild animal that wanders onto the map to keep my colonists alive.)

Hello! I have this issue a lot, too. Those silly colonists want to prioritise their beloved animals over their own comfort, which is sweet, but very airheaded of them.

I can usually stop animals from eating meals on their own by simply changing their allowed areas to prevent them from accessing the fancy "people food", but it gets trickier when tending to injured animals or training them.

I have found a mod called 'Animal Controls' on the Steam Workshop which says it adds animal food restrictions, however, I haven't had a chance to test it out myself yet so I'm afraid I can't vouch for its effectiveness. Perhaps I'll test it out in my next RimWorld game!

#asks #rimworld #gracie plays #rimworld mods #I always shake my head in disbelief watching my colonists stand next to the kibble shelf to feed their dogs lavish meals #Admirable effort to treat the pets nicely #But I really don't think the dog would care if it got kibble #I'm pretty sure I've seen my irl dog eat actual dirt sometimes #Of her own free will!!#The rimworld dogs can survive on kibble or raw meat #It always struck me as odd that you can restrict the medicine used for your animals in rimworld but not the food #I feel like that should be a vanilla feature #But alas we are left to find mods for it #thanks for the ask!!#Have an amazing day! <3

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m0thisonfire · 2 months

Text

Distractions

Vedan x Gn! Reader

1,198 words

Contains: Fluff, suggestive themes, teasing from reader's end, temptation, written mostly from Vedan's Pov, Vedan being hopelessly smitten

A/N: I made this way fluffier than I meant to. I spend so much time with this dude in my head that I've already cemented my personal HC that he's a hopeless loverboy when he does fall in love. He's an evil bastard, yes, but damn, can he be soft for his partner and kids... I also didn't specify any living faction, but I wasn't writing with Graveborn Reader in mind. Planning on making another oneshot with Graveborn Reader too <3

“... Have I ever told you how handsome you look without your coat and with your sleeves rolled up?” You asked with feigned innocence, watching the Count freeze for a moment before he continued writing.

“...You're being distracting…”

“Am I?”

“Yes,” Vedan hissed as he haunched over his desk more, running a hand through his hair and narrowing his eyes at the papers in front of him, “You are being very distracting.”

He could feel your giddy grin as you got up to saunter closer and lean over his shoulder teasingly, pretending to read the words he was writing down. Feeling your hand on his shoulder and the solid weight of you leaning against him left his stomach flipping, as always. It wasn't hunger, and it wasn't that pleasant sadistic feeling he'd get when fighting either. Blissful. Nostalgic. Pleasant in a soft way.

“So what I’m hearing is… you think I'm more interesting than your work?”

You had been doing this for an hour now, the teasing. You had been relaxing in his study while he worked on important documents for Thoran and a few of his noble acquaintances. It wasn't a new occurrence, Vedan enjoyed your company more than you or anyone else realized. Of course he did, you wouldn't have been his lover if he didn't. But moments like this, moments you teased and tested his self control… he was beginning to think you enjoyed riling him up and seeing him fluster when he couldn’t take it anymore. Not this time. He was determined to outwait you.

The Count scoffed and chuckled briskly, resting his head into his hand as your warmth diverted his attention. Warm. You were always so warm. Not unexpected, since you were alive, but there was something about you that was… intoxicating. Vedan found it overpowering to a degree. Your scent, your warmth, your eyes and smile and laugh and-

“... Unfortunately, yes.” He finally muttered as he lightly tapped the pen tip against the desk. He could already feel his thoughts clouding up, his priorities shifting when you laughed at his response. He almost broke completely when you wrapped your arms around him from behind, burying your face into his hair and shoulder with a soft kiss. A small hum escaped him, his brows furrowing as the corner of his mouth twitched. Why did you do this to him? Did you not realize how persuasive you could be?

… or maybe you just knew he was a pushover when it came to you and the girls. He could rarely say no to the three of you as it was. When you got like this, who was he to refuse?

“... Vedan?”

A sharp inhale answered you before he closed his eyes and stilled his tapping, managing to ground out, “Yes, my dear?”

“Do you need me to back off? You're tensing up again.”

At that, Vedan opened his eyes again with a frown, raising his brows and lifting his head slightly. He was too tense, was getting too wound up. You probably took that as him about to lose his temper, which would be true for anyone else. But not for his children, or you. Not for one of the few rays of sun left in his eternal night.

He grumbled slightly at that, turning in his seat to loop an arm around your waist and pull you closer so he could bury his face in your shirt. Putting down his pen, he reached up to pull you down so he could kiss the underside of your jaw with a huff, basking in your scent and body heat.

“I need you to calm down,” he muttered against your neck, raising his head slightly to brush his lips against your ear, “My patience has its limits, darling. I can only handle so much before I give in to temptation. And you know me, I give in excess.”

A smug feeling swelled in Vedan's chest when he felt you shiver at that, unable to resist one of his fanged grins when he felt your pulse speed up. He hummed sweetly and pressed another kiss to your jaw before pulling away, chirping cheerily, “Now, I really must focus on these papers. Letters and files don't write themselves after all.”

And then, blessed silence. He took solace in your steady presence beside him as he picked up his pen once more, keeping his arm around your waist to keep you close as he wrote. He had thought you had heeded his warning, listening closely to your pulse flutter and race as he lightly traced your side.

He thought you had. Then you brushed a lock of his hair behind his ear and leaned down to press a lingering kiss to his cheek. Then another, and another. A warning growl rumbled in his throat, but he couldn't hide the blush darkening his cheeks. When you began messing with his cravat and brushing your warm fingertips against his neck, he snapped.

Putting down his pen with a little more force than he intended, he stood up and pushed the papers back a bit to make room. For you.

To his annoyed amusement, you immediately tried to bolt away from him with a breathless laugh. As if you could escape him after messing with him for well over an hour.

“Oh, absolutely not, love.” He stated firmly with an evil grin, wrapping his arms around your waist and dragging you back against his chest, “Ask and you shall receive. You aren't getting away from this.”

Vedan couldn’t help a chuckle of his own feeling you try to squirm out of his arms, pulling you back to the desk to sit you on the edge. A playful, drawn-out long-suffering sigh escaped him as he caged you inbetween his arms, asking in a tired tone, “What am I to do with you?”

You gave him a smile that would have made his heart skip a beat if he were still alive, reaching up to grab ahold of his shoulders and pull him down to you. He knew what you wanted, and relented with a defeated sound as he accepted the pecking kiss. Resting his head against yours, he smiled deviously as your feigned innocent act slowly dissolved into nervous anticipation.

“Ha… hopefully nothing too extreme. I suppose it wouldn't hurt to apologize for my earlier behavior?”

“Pleading for mercy already?”

Grinning weakly, you answered, “Maybe?”

“No.” Vedan denied with a smirk, tilting his head to brush your lips together, “Teasing me so boldly, and then expecting me to go easy on you… Shame, love. For shame.”

It was your turn to sigh deeply, giving him a longer kiss before muttering, “Well, it was worth a shot.”

“Mh. Was it?” he asked shortly, moving to trace your outer thigh and watch you squirm.

“I- Yes…”

Vedan's smile widened as he chuckled darkly. With a nuzzling kiss, he pushed you back more and pinned you down. He looked quite thrilled, eager now. He did always love these little intervals you provided whenever you were around, despite his exasperation over his work.

“Hm, perhaps it was worth it… I suppose I could do with a small break.”

“Ten minutes?”

“Fifteen.”

#afk arena #afk vedan #afk arena oneshot #afk oneshot #vedan x reader #afk vedan x reader #can you tell I absolutely love him?#loverboy vedan has me in a chokehold unfortunately-

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ikoarts · 4 months

Text

August 2023 Art

vvv dates + info under the cut vvv

1 - 02/08/2023 : Trixie :) i think this is the first traditional thing i drew of her? i like it but im still ironing out the kinks a bit with her

2 - 04/08/2023 : one of my more ambitious-ish pieces of the year, i wanted to draw a fullbody of Ru in a unique pose surrounded by all her things, think of it like a fun eye spy i guess x theres obvs some bits i could have done better but overall im happy with the pose

3 - 05/08/2023 : found a silly pic and it reminded me of Alice so i drew her over it... on her weekly aldi shop in her jarmas x

4, 5, 6 - 16/08/2023 : think i was testing out a new sketchbook, paper is a bit funny and not something ive drawn on for awhile, since i usually buy the same kind of sketchbook every time, but these 3 doodles are from a new one, a lil Ru and some silly ones

7, 8, 9 - 17/08/2023 : some silly phone doodles of Trixie, mostly, Richie is there too...... she is a diesel engine, and also smells, naturally.. a lil lineless thing of her in there too, think i was figuring out some colours

10 - 20/08/2023 : felt like doing some inked traditional art again, so did a lil Ru doodle x

11 - 21/08/2023 : a very random fanart for a mobile game!! i wanted to draw the mains from Text Express, which is a really good mobile game actually... i kno they gay

12 - 24/08/2023 : now commencing train derangement.... heres a pen doodle of Edward from TTTE <3 i did say there would be more pen doodles soon

13, 14 - 26/08/2023 : little face doodles, decided to turn Ru into a choochoo (i like to call her chooshada), so theres also some initial pen doodles of her as her basis, the NER 398 Class, the class had a history of boiler explosions and had many rebuilds, so i think its happened to her... at least once x

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tablestoastandtime · 7 days

Text

One-Way Ticket Through the Backstage Door

I wanted to write Cal fighting Grievous, so I did that. Mostly an exercise with combat and outsider POVs, but also just a lot of fun to work on. Title bc I listened to Juke Box Hero on repeat while writing it.

Feel free to think this fight would go down differently. This version's for me :p

The holo itself was of middling quality. The edges of the image were hazy and the colours muted, mostly overridden by the primary blue of the tech. The audio was tinny, like the receptors had been reaching outside of their normal range to pick up what they could. Even the file itself ran poorly, like it had been converted from something else to run on this particular console.

None of that was what really mattered about the recording.

No, the most prominent feature was the unknown man's blazing bright amber saber.

There was no Jedi in the Order of his description, none outside of undercover Shadows who would even dress like a worn-out spacer. The scant armour and blaster on his thigh were at odds with the casual ease of his movements as he cut swathes through the squads of droids that tried to pen him into a corner of the Separatist hanger.

And for all their talent at subterfuge, even several years into the Clone Wars few Shadows had the open battle experience to chain together Force abilities and violence like breathing. Plenty of Knights and Masters had built that skillset as the galactic conflict escalated, but if this man had been one of them, then someone would have recognized him. That being said, there was nothing else he could be as the more esoteric Force sects of the galaxy didn’t use lightsabers in the same ways and the evidence of Forms I and IV were unmistakable in his opening footwork. It was possible someone would recognize him, if they got a chance to test his Force Signature, but as it was all the Council had was the holo.

Well, not quite.

All they had was the holo and the remains of a Separatist base and general pulled apart at the seams.

In the recording, a panicked B1 called for reinforcements as the unknown Jedi reduced a contingent of B2s to heaps of sparking slag, deflecting bolts with every flicker of his saber and blitzing from droid to droid in bursts of Force that left the machines reeling. Droidekas auto-deployed from a storage unit on the far wall, but before they could even come to a stop, the insectoid droids froze mid-roll at a blurry twitch of the man's fingers. They shook and shuddered in place, and the Jedi spun his sabre out in a throw that sheared through the metal like flimsiplast. That maneuver left him without a weapon and a bold B1 tried to capitalize on the vulnerability, stepping in close and swinging its blaster at the back of his head -

Only to drop a second later with a hissing hole in the center of its processing unit.

The Jedi fired another four shots from his blaster as he ducked and wove around bolts before his saber returned to his other hand, zigzagging through another half dozen droids. Each bolt found a home in another chassis and then the blaster was away and the other end of the man's saber ignited instead.

He dove into the crowd of durasteel in a whirlwind of push, pull, and shining amber light. Droids flipped into the air, the walls, each other, meeting their ends on a beam of plasma or crashing into the floor with more force than the station's gravity could produce. His sabre danced around his hands, his hips, blades snapping in and out of the hilt on a whim, batting bolts out of the air, splitting some down the middle in a show of frankly concerning efficiency.

It was less a fight and more a salvage operation. A scrapper decommissioning old tech to be reused elsewhere. Thorough, procedural, smooth.

In one gesture, the Jedi yanked half of the remaining droids in tight and cut them down in a superheated spiral and then stopped entirely.

There were more droids yet, another trio of droidekas surrounded by B1s and 2s, but they all stood frozen, juddering. The Jedi surveyed the crowd and twirled his saber, rolling it through the shadow of forms before settling with one blade lit and burning into the durasteel floor. He turned slightly and looked directly at the recorder.

"Come on out Grievous," he called, what was discernible of his tone almost friendly if it weren't for the tension in his shoulders and the careful balance of his weight. "I could keep taking down your troops, but I think we both know this is a waste of time. We're going to do this today, so either you come down here and we talk in this big open room where your long arms might mean something, or I come find whatever closet you're hiding in and deal with you like a baby bane back in a jar."

Behind him, the droids began picking up speed.

The Jedi seemed oblivious, attention drifting somewhere overhead, tracking something through the floors of the complex and spinning his sabre like a reflex. “Yeah, there you are. Let’s have a conversation.”

Another beat, and blasters rose a little higher.

Searing orange-stained blue went round and round, the Jedi bouncing slightly in place. He rolled his shoulders, and the audiceptors caught some kind of clattering noise. It came through garbled and grating, but it sounded vaguely like metal striking metal.

By the looks of it, the primary access elevator for the hangar was back behind the droids and to the left. Instead of paying it any mind, the Jedi stared directly at an otherwise unremarkable section of durasteel plating.

The stasis hold on the droids slackened in increments and the feed shook as if something jostled the recorder. How they managed that with the device lodged firmly along the edge of the ceiling several shiplengths above the hangar floor was-

Suddenly very obvious. With no other warning Grievous dropped from a vent in the roof, hitting the floor in a crouch, two sabers drawn, and diving straight at what should have been the man’s back. Instead stolen blue and green met the previously unlit end of the Jedi’s saber in a two handed strike at his neck.

A parry, pushing the two blades down towards the ground opening Grievous to a Force push that only managed to move him back a few metres, and the Jedi sprang after him in a lunge. Grievous countered the first strike at his chest, the second at his head, and the third that narrowly missed severing his left hand before lashing out in a kick that sent the Jedi flying into a flip, pressing the advantage and slicing to split open his gut and bisect his head before he could land and recover.

At the same time, the droids finally regained full motion and began firing.

Except the Jedi didn’t even try to touch down, twisting mid-air like a lothcat and tearing forward through the maze of burning red, back to a single blade that wove right past Grievous’ guard to score across the plating of his torso. Grievous snarled, one of his secondary limbs snapping out in a backhand blow that caught the Jedi across one scarred cheek, followed closely by a green saber slash that was ducked as the Jedi followed the downward momentum, juking sideways into a half-crouch and then up, using Grievous’ thigh as a springboard to launch himself back into the air and then meteor down in a Force-assisted modification to a traditional Djem-So strike.

Grievous met the blow in a crossed guard, clawed feet digging into the durasteel floor for traction. His secondary arms swept up, now armed and aiming to slice the Jedi in half while his blade was occupied.

Again, the second half of the Jedi’s saber ignited as he disengaged, a spinning block that also served to return several blaster bolts to their senders. This time, Grievous didn’t immediately close the gap. Instead they circled each other, the Jedi still blocking what would in most other combat scenarios classify as suppressing fire with the comfortable ease of a Knight working through katas.

“You know,” the Jedi started, no trace of the earlier levity only plasmacutter focus. “This doesn’t have to be your legacy.”

A rattling scoff. “Your death will be nothing but a footnote in my conquest. I have brought down regimes since I could walk, and your Republic will only be the latest in a long line of victories, Jedi.”

“There is no victory in this war,” the Jedi disagreed with a flourish that dropped the last of the B1s. The droidekas kept firing at the unrelenting shell of the Jedi’s defence. “Only death, including yours. The Confederacy is a sham and there is no place for you in the Empire the Sith seek to build.”

Grievous hissed, air catching in his vocoder in a wave of hollow static. “Fearful lies will not save you or your people. The stars will ring with their screams as I burn your Temple.”

The Jedi’s steps didn’t falter but they did shift, sliding out of the agile balance of Form III into the pointed calculation of Makashi. His wrist curled and one thumb ran along the glinting metal of his hilt.

The circle tightened.

“My people,” his voice was almost too soft for the audiceptors now, but the volume did nothing to hide the danger in his words. “Do what they can in the face of an ungrateful galaxy. They must face many hard truths to have a future, but they will do so alive.”

And then the Jedi flicked his saber in another flourish that would have been standard fare except at the apex of the movement he twisted his hands and the hilt came apart. The first blade swung up and over his head in a wind up straight into a throw, arcing high and devastatingly quick as he raised the other, hand half open to grip a section of the hangar wall, tearing dozens of rivets out in one motion and pistoning several hundred pounds of reinforced duranium at Grievous from the other side.

One arm deflected the blade, sending it careening off towards the remaining B2s, another two carving a hole through the plating and allowing Grievous to sidestep the imminent collision.

Unfortunately, that left him with only one arm free to defend himself as the Jedi closed in, blurring across the space in a second with his remaining blade in an underhanded swing that forced Grievous onto the back foot followed by a jab that seared a hole through a shoulder servo. The backswing neatly parried the immediate retaliation looking to sever the Jedi’s cervical spine, and then the blaster was back in hand in a quickdraw as he fired one, two, three shots into Grievous’ neck before letting it hit the deck to catch the soaring return of his second blade. A flurry of blows centred to the left side where half of Grievous’ arms no longer reacted with the lightning sensitivity needed to match a Jedi waist deep in the Force.

Grievous lost a finger, a palm, an elbow joint, before tipping backwards to catch half of his weight on his remaining hands and using one foot to lever a chunk of molten metal straight at the Jedi’s head. The Force caught the body of the slag, but the Jedi recoiled from the splatter of molten alloy all the same, one breath of pure reflex that left him open to a slash of Grievous’ mutilated hand that tore open the flesh of his exposed forearm.

An audible cry, a stumble, and a bolt finally catching him in the thigh but the blood and burning seemed to give the Jedi back his focus and his grip remained sure as he blocked the much more dangerous follow ups with a saber, high, low, midbody, high again, and then he brought his hilts together, clicking them back into one and using the extra length to buy back some space.

Once more the Jedi disengaged, dripping blood and breath coming visibly controlled.

Bolts still flew through the space and lip curling, the Jedi raised an open hand. The remaining B2s sailed into the air and the droidekas twirled in place like children's’ toys. His fist clenched. Military grade armour and tech crumpled, dropping to the ground with a definitive clang.

“Let’s be honest with ourselves, Grievous.” The Jedi stalked closer, weaving in and around the remains of the hangar wall. There was nothing defensive left in his posture, only tooth-sharp intent. “What do you think happens next if the Separatists win the war?”

If Grievous tried to answer, it was lost to rasping, wet coughs. His three remaining sabres stayed in a typical low guard, but the bottom half of his chest plating hung out of place and his left shoulder sparked where the connections had melted away.

Still, there was no disguising the naked hate in his eyes.

“They won’t keep you,” the Jedi said, cold and confident and sliding his hands into a low grip. Two fins at the mouth of his saber’s emitter collapsed down and ignited, the single sizzling blade stretched out behind him well past what a lightsaber ought to be capable of. Its brightness exceeded the recorder’s capabilities, turning the weapon into a long line of searing and colourless blue. “You’re a rabid nexu and say what you will about the Banking Clans, but they know a thing or two about divesting themselves when the time is right. Personally, my money is on an orbital strike if you make that far.”

Grievous screamed back at him, all wrath and ruin and long dried blood, a sound that hurt even through the recording’s poor quality.

Still, Grievous was no fool and had never been above fleeing a fight he was losing. The first step back was an admission of weakness, the second a dead giveaway.

Any window for ending this fight definitively was closing. Rapidly.

The Jedi’s pace stayed a steady prowl. His sabre traced a white-hot path into the smoking floor. “You could surrender now, but we both know you’d never make it to court.”

Grievous pivoted his weight backwards, primed for a leap. The question was, where was he planning to go?

It didn’t matter.

In the same breath Grievous began to uncoil, the Jedi flicked a hand and the Separatist General’s legs began to vibrate beneath him. “No. We’re not quite done here.”

That great saber swung up overhead in motion that belied a massive and illogical weight and left monstrously distorted afterimages across the holo. Trapped as Grievous seemed to be, the Jedi was still far too far away for anything except a dashing strike under normal circumstances.

There was very little normal about these circumstances.

The saber came down. Half of the recording disappeared into a wall of blinded blue, photoreceptors failing as the sound of sabers colliding resumed.

A shout, ragged and furious, threatening death, mutilation, despair.

Another, indignant. Frightened.

There were no sounds of combat then, just a warped noise like industrial welding.

One more cry. Pained. A blaster shot. The hum of active lightsabers went quiet.

For a long stretch, there was nothing but quiet footsteps. Boots on metal. Shifting. Then the noise of the hangar doors and a ship’s engine starting. A takeoff sequence.

The hangar doors had still been open when the Republic forces arrived to investigate the unexpected ping on what was supposed to be an Order-specific comm freq.

According to the timestamps, the holo continued for another fifteen minutes, but there was little more the damaged recorder could discern about the events that followed. Other parts of the facility’s security system provided a little more context, but beyond some slightly clearer images of the unknown Jedi’s face and his systematic destruction of every active droid he could find on site, they had nothing.

There was no sign of where he’d come from beyond the vent he dropped out of in the earliest stamped security holo they could find. He hadn’t left any indication of where he was going. Even the Force impressions he had left behind had been odd, like a child standing in the centre of an antiques store after having been pointedly told not to touch anything. Full of wonder and longing and an absolute certainty they did not belong there.

The Senate was going to have a field day.

#cal kestis #general grievous #my writing #tbh I also think this fight would probably go down differently but i had wayyyy too much fun with this to change it now lmao #sw jedi survivor

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angolicious · 2 years

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I’m going to talk about the flags and you guys are just going to have to DEAL with it. Anywho, as mentioned. Bsd stormbringer spoilers below so don’t read if you don’t want them. :)

Oh to be a member of the flags…. To be their prized little seventh member who they all secretly pine after.

I wanna be their little fem wife but I’m gonna try and keep this post gender neutral.

So just hear me out…

• they all adore you.

• you can’t sit in a room with the whole group without being almost passed back and forth between them. They mostly keep from arguing over you out loud because they’re not going to stoop that low but sometimes you can sense a little bit of tension when you’ve been sitting in one place for too long.

• pianoman, as the leader, often kind of gets to call the shots. Because of that he has a lucky advantage of getting to keep you close for longer. He likes having you sit in his lap while the group is just lazing around and chatting. It’s a subtle brag for him, plus it’s comfortable so it’s a win win. And you couldn’t complain, because the way he holds you is just…. Mmmm. He doesn’t just suffocate you- not in public at least. But he leans back in his chair, keeping one hand on your hip to keep you close. Casually throughout the night, he goes back and forth between rubbing slow circles into your hip, or letting his gloved fingers trail lightly all the way down to your knee, before riding right back up your thigh. He thinks you don’t notice how he obviously uses this tactic to subtly slide his hand under the hem of your skirt, pushing the fabric to ride up a little higher on your thighs…. But you do. You definitely notice. You just don’t say anything because he knows not to push his hands to far up under that skirt. Not yet at least. Pianoman seems to like to test his boundaries, you’ve noticed, but you allow it, knowing that if you were to say something he’d stop without a doubt.

• he’s a little bit more daring in private. There have been many nights sense you got closer with him that he’s invited you over to his apartment while he worked on his counterfeit money. He can stress so easily over his work, wanting everything to be perfect. He found very quickly however, that your presence seems to calm him down, so if he can have you there while he’s working he will. You often sit in his lap while he’s doing his thing, and quietly read a book, or scroll on your phone. He works with his right hand, and rubs up and down your thigh with his left. It’s just as calming to him as it is you. The difference between this and in public though is that he has a tendency to be slightly more vulnerable with you. He knows you’re still one of his subordinates in a way. He knows he’s your de-facto leader… but he doesn’t quite feel like he had to put up all that facade with you. So sometimes while he’s working, (especially if he’s had a rough day at work.), you’ll notice his eyes start to get a little heavy. Then he’ll huff and put down his pen, and ease his head into the crook of your neck with a sigh. He loves when you reciprocate this by reaching up and gently petting his hair. I just KNOW this man likes to have his hair played with. If you do it will knock him right out. Some nights you’ll just stay over completely, pull him into his bed and let him rest curled into your stomach. He’s really cute when he sleeps. Please let him sleep.

• he loves to take you dancing. Not like- clubbing dancing, but ballroom dancing. In pianoman’s eyes it’s quite possibly one of the most romantic things you could do. He gets to keep you close to him, and lead the pace as you guys spin across a floor, and in that moment you’re his and nobody else’s. He hope that could be a reality one day but for now he’ll stick to dancing.

• Albatross gets incredibly excited every time he see’s you. It’s incredibly endearing. He practically sprints to you every time he sees you, and then you get tackled in the worlds biggest bear hug. He LOVES to hug you whenever he gets the chance, and he doesn’t do that side hug bullshit. Not for you. as soon as he sees you his arms are fully around your body. He wraps them around you from the front and yanks you into his chest, and then brings them up behind you to rest against your back. he likes to rock slightly when he hugs you, and he buries his face in the crook of your neck every time without fail. Be warned, his hugs are tight, and long. You’ll be there for at least two minutes while he just… takes in your presence. He loves the smells of your perfume/cologne. I mean- he’s obsessed. So naturally, your neck is the first place he goes. He just buries his head there and exists in your warmth and your smell. It’s comforting. And when you hug him back?? He’s over the moon. Just hold him and rub his back while he gets his daily hug in and he’s happy. You can quickly notice the others getting slightly irritable when he holds on for too long. One time he slipped up and buried his head right in your chest. He regrets nothing and yet everything at the same time. It was like- six seconds of heaven in exhchange for piano man throwing him like six feet across the room. You weren’t mad at him though so he still thinks it’s worth it. Especially because now, when no one is around, you let him rest his head on your chest and pet his hair. It truly is the most heavenly thing he’s ever experienced. (The rest of the group definitely gets jealous over how you baby him… but how could you not? It’s alby.)

• he loves when he gets a chance to take you for a ride on his motorcycle. He loves that bike so much… it’s his prized possession. So getting a chance to drive around with you on it?? It’s like having two of the things he loves the most right there with him at the same time. It’s another thing that he would classify as a heavenly experience. He loves the feeling of your arms around his waist, and the way your head leans on his back. It makes him feel super manly in your eyes. He takes you to do fun stuff all the time, like bowling or carnivals. In his eyes, if you guys aren’t having fun what’s the point? You have already been somewhat bullied onto three really large rollercoasters that you insisted you wouldn’t be going on. He somehow managed to talk you into it all three times…. You enjoyed all three but heaven forbid you tell him that because you will never hear the end of it.

• sometimes he calls you over to his garage to come sit with him while he works on cars. That’s a lowlier part of his job, so it’s not something he has to do all the time. But he does know a lot about cars so sometimes it’s just easier and quicker for him to step in and get it done. During days like that he loves having you close by to just talk with him… and by god can he talk a lot so conversation just goes on forever and ever. It jumps back and forth between just the strangest topics…. If you’re adhd like me then best of luck because the two of you combined will never shut the fuck up. He’ll occasionally pause his work and saunter his way over to you with his hands covered in oil and sweat. Run. He’s going to try and smear it on your face. He thinks it’s hilarious. If he asked you to bring him a tool and you did he could die happy.

Lippmann is subtle in all of his approaches towards you. In fact, if you hadn’t heard the others talking about how much he likes you, you would probably assume this was just how he was with everyone. Lippmann is subtly flirtatious and poetic with practically everything he says. It would make no sense for you to assume he was intentionally flirting with you. But he is… oh but he is. His compliments are always ridiculously poetic and enchanting… he’ll come straight out with some shit like. “Your skin makes you look positively angelic in this light… the orange hues… never before have i seen a person so unashamedly gorgeous. I pity the fools who will never have the privilege of laying their eyes on your enchanting beauty, my dear… truly.” And then just wander off to go do whatever the fuck it was he was doing and you’re just left standing there having a midlife crisis because what the fuck??? Lippmann you good? Honestly he says this shit with such ease but you should know he was planning that line in his head days in advance. He practiced his delivery in the mirror like he practices before big tv interviews.

You caught him doing that once and it was the first time you ever saw him off his game. He stared at you wide eyed for a second before his face turned bright red and he slammed the bathroom door in your face. He locked himself in there for an hour and a half and when he finally emerged he looked PRISTINE. You gently asked him if he wanted to talk about it and he adjusted his tie, smiled and said. “Y/n, dear, i have no idea what you’re talking about.” Before walking off. Denial is like a drug i suppose.

Lippmann also isn’t as bold when it comes to physical affection. At least not nearly as much as the others. One could argue that it’s due to Lippmann simply being a much more classy and old fashioned person but that’s not the case at all, though that is what you believe. Though Lippmann is great at passing it off like he’s simply doing it to remain classy and put together, it’s actually because he’s much to shy to try to initiate the kind of physical contact that the other members of the group do. Don’t get me wrong though… watching pianoman’s hand drift slowly up your thigh… he’s practically drooling… he’d give anything to be in that position…. But he isn’t. He still touches you though when he can, just much more subtly. You’ll often find lippmann’s hand placed on the small of your back as he ushers you through doorways, or his hand tenderly placed on your arm when he speaks to you. He likes to touch your hair and face under the guise of ‘fixing it for you’. But, everyone knows that’s bullshit when he tenderly brushes a strand of hair behind your ear and then hums. “It was in your face. It looked like it was bothering you….” It wasn’t bothering you. You know that. He knows that. He likes to pretend you have a smudge on your cheek or something all the time and ‘wipe it off’. He just wants to touch you. Let him touch you. If you ever did the same for him he might spontaneously combust. You brushed his bangs out of his face one time and he just sort of stared at you for 3 minutes.

He likes to take you out for expensive dinners when he can, but he always disguises it as being ‘just a friend thing’. He’ll come up with some excuse and say he was already on the way, or just bored and in need of some company. What kind of person who just wants company invites their friend out to a candlelit dinner in a five star restaurant so he can rub legs with them under the table? He’s whipped…. And you get a free meal out of it so…

He won’t ever let you be seen with him on tv or if he’s working. He knows he can protect himself because of his ability, and his status. He’s terrified that the same might not go for you. He knows you know how to defend yourself… but he would rather face death himself than the thought of losing you. He would never forgive himself. Hold that boy. Hug him.

Doc is strange in all of his mannerisms and behavior around you. He tends to just kind of linger in your presence, violently pushing on your personal space, and praying to god you take notice enough to turn your attention towards him. Sometimes he tries to flirt with you and then it just comes off as… vaguely threatening and concerning… especially when he follows it up with that odd chuckle he does. He’s trying his best please cut him some slack. “I think my patients look very strange when they’re sleeping on my operating table… not you though y/n…. I’m sure you’d look very good there… sleeping… i would be okay with that… Heh…” “Are you… threatening me?” “No….”

He absolutely adores receiving your affection but he’s not quite as good at giving it. He’s working on it. As of right now he’s discovered a beautiful tactic of getting terribly close and in your space, and when you don’t push him away or move he just kind of, leans himself into you, or puts his head on your shoulder quietly. Usually at that point you’ve caught on to what he’s doing and you can casually reciprocate his love. He loves when you turn your body so he can rest his head on your collar bone, and you gently rub his back. He also spends a lot of time sprawled out on the couch with his head in your lap. He doesn’t usually ask about that either. If he sees you sitting on the couch alone he just kind of pushes his way up there with you. He expects affection. Give it up. He likes to come over to your place to run you over a new poison he’s just concocted. He tells you all about it…. And then typically conveniently finds out he’s tired and oh wow! Your bed looks so comfortable. Might as well take a rest. He knows pianoman sleeps in your bed sometimes because he’s bragged about it. He will not be missing out on that opportunity. He typically will sleep curled into you with his head pressed into your back between your shoulder blades. He lays an arm over your waist and you can gently hold his bony wrist and massage it. It puts him right to sleep. He’s bony all over and fragile as they come so be careful with him, he can get hurt quite easily.

If you’re ever hurt, he’s there in a heartbeat… and a sudden new and very attractive almost dominant side comes out of him. He’s not a rude and toxic kind of dominant… but something softer. The dominance comes in his confident nature in his knowledge of medical practices. He might know your body better than you do. It’s quite comforting to be cared for by him, and you know he’s not the same with his other patients. But with you he’s slow… and gentle. Firm… but intentional. You once hurt your knee while on the job, and the way he so gently held your leg in his steady bony fingers almost made you fall in love. His eyes were intense and focused as he cleaned the wound, before quickly diagnosing what the problem was. He kept one hand gently cradling your calf as he stitched up the wound, and when you winced he softly muttered. “Shh… you’re doing fine….. I’m almost done…” under his breath, pausing to stroke his thumb along your thigh.

Sometimes he has bad days where his own illness gets the best of him and he just has to stay in bed. He hates days like this because he feels like the weakest member of the mafia. He hates feeling like the weakest link, or acknowledging that he’s sick. You always remind him that he’s just as strong as the rest however, and he really appreciates it. He didn’t want you to see him on his bad days, worried you’d think lesser of him. You found out through the others, however. He was shocked when you picked the lock on his door and barged into his little apartment with snacks and drinks, insisting that he let you take care of him. He spent the rest of the night with his head on your chest, you gently cradling him against yourself while you pet his hair, and you let him sleep there. To say he is IN LOVE would be an understatement. He loves you so fucking much.

This boy cares so much, he’s just not quite sure how to show it at times. But he notices things, and quietly reminds you to eat, or to do things to keep your health up. He ensures you take your vitamins, and if you have any other medications he makes sure you always have those and you’re always taking them as well. All he asks for in return is your kindness…. And maybe he might want to put his head on your thighs from time to time.

Iceman does not know how to handle your existence… but he thinks your cool and hot as hell. He has acknowledged that… but he doesn’t know what to do with the information. He’s very similar to doc in the way that he spends a lot of time just lingering in your presence. He might be worse because sometimes he just follows you around like a lost puppy and says nothing for hours. He just scowls at stuff and sits next to you. He’s content. He’s just happy to be there if you’ll let him. He never initiates physical contact at all, and instead waits for you to do so. He wants it so terribly but when you do he just goes stiff and gets red. At first you thought that he didn’t like it but when you asked he quickly explained that he did and asked very quietly for you to continue. You have faith that he would stop you if he didn’t want you touching him, so you do when the opportunity presents itself. Hugging him is an ethereal experience because he smells subtly of cigarette smoke and faded cologne. His shoulders are broad, and he’s so tall that it just feels like being enveloped in warmth. He reciprocates your hugs gently and cautiously, as if he’s worried he might break you. He usually wraps his jacket around you when you hug him, gently trapping you inside of it with him.

Iceman notices…. EVERYTHING. And i mean… every. Little. Detail. You have to wonder if it’s just something he’s become trained to do in his line of work… or maybe he’s just constantly paying that much attention do you. New earrings? Within five minutes of you walking into the room he’s gently brushed one with his gloved hand and quietly muttered.

“Those are new….” He wants you to tell him where you got them. He wants all the details. He just wants you to talk to him. Please please talk to him. New haircut? He notices, even if you just got it subtly trimmed. New shirt? He knows. Your wearing a different lipstick color? He’s pointing out to you that the sheen is different, and it’s a slightly darker red. He wants you to know he likes it. Oh, new nail polish color? He’ll use it as an excuse to hold your hand for a second so he can examine the color.

He could sit in silence and listen to you talk for hours. A lot of the time he really doesn’t have much to say, and trying to make conversation is just too hard for him. He much prefers to give quiet feedback and just listen to you ramble. He and Lippmann are probably the ones you go to for all your gossip. He listens and provides quiet advice. Lippmann can bitch with you like nobody’s business. He’s girly pop- but this ain’t about him.

He likes to invite you to his place sometimes to just listen to his old record player and vibe. He’ll cook you both dinner, and he’s a shockingly good cook. After you guys eat he’ll put on some music and sit down in an arm chair by his balcony window. He’ll typically smoke a cigarette, and you’ll use this time to snuggle up into his lap. He’s usually stiff at first, but he melts into it and finds himself gently rubbing his hand up and down your side. Sometimes you fall asleep there on him, so he picks you up and carries you to his bed. He usually uses this opportunity to sleep curled up with you. He’ll sleep on his back with you curled into his side, with one arm around your shoulders.

He has killed people for you, and he will do it again. When an enemy busted up your knee on the job, Doc called him while he took care of you. He went out, tracked the guy down, and ended him slowly and painfully. He was never heard from again. You have no idea what the hell he did to the guy, but he came home covered in blood, and refused to talk about what happened. Heaven forbid somebody upset you or physically hurt you. They well be hunted down… by not only him, but the rest of the flags as well…. No mercy. Not for hurting their dearest y/n.

At the end of the day, they all adore you, and silently fight over who gets to keep you for the longest. Unbeknownst to you there’s a little bit of a race to see who will get to kiss you first. There’s an even bigger race to see who will get to dick you down first. They’re 20 something year old men…. What else would you expect from them? They’re all horny as hell and you’re the prized trophy they’re all fighting to win. But it’s fun watching them clamber over each other for your affections, practically pushing each other out of the way for your attention and love. Some nights you invite them all over for dinner, knowing damn well some of them don’t know how to take care of themselves… I’m looking at doc and albatross…. And sometimes pianoman. It feels like on nights when you have them all together you’re just being tossed around between them. One moment you’re swaying in pianoman’s arms in the kitchen while you stir pasta, and then suddenly you’ve been ripped into the living room by albatross so he can dare you to jump off the coffee table into his arms…. And then you’re being picked up off the coffee table and safely placed down by ice man- where you’re quickly latched onto by doc, and then suddenly taken by the hand and pulled away by Lippmann so he can ask you a stupid question about which tie you prefer on him. They’re all idiots. They all want you. Just give them each their own chunk of attention and they should be happy.

Anywho that’s my fairy girl daydream thanks for listening because there will probably be a part two sometimes soon when i become full of FEELINGS again.

#bungou stray dogs #bsd #bungo stray dogs #bsd storm bringer #storm bringer #bsd piano man #the flags #bsd pianoman #bsd pittmann #bsd iceman #bsd albatross #bsd doc #bsd flags

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