#sorry I’ve been so quiet have this doodle
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Har Har Har Har
#fnaf#fnaf movie#five nights at freddy's#freddy fazbear#artists on tumblr#bonnie the bunny#chica the chicken#dang bruh you got the whole squad laughing#sorry I’ve been so quiet have this doodle#I haven’t stopped think about fnaf since the movie and I never will stop#my art#art
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Redamancy: Chapter Three
Jasper Hale x Reader
Series Summary: What happens when your soulmate is a vampire that struggles to maintain a diet of trying not to kill you? Common sense says run for the hills, nothing is worth your life - but my heart is whispering why not, what’s there to lose?
Warnings: None
Notes: So sorry last weekend’s chapter was late this week, I’m back to my regularly scheduled posting! I’m so excited so many of you like this series so far!!
Word Count: 1131
Series Masterlist
• January 25, 2005 • Forks High School •
Reader
My second day at Forks high school started much smoother than the first. It was pretty much uneventful until I decided to eat lunch alone outside on the picnic tables in the quad. It was an overcast day much like all the others and maybe a little chilly, but still decent enough since it wasn’t currently raining. It made for the perfect condition being that no one else really wanted to eat outside.
That is, until I spotted none other than Jasper Hale headed in my direction.
“Mind if I join you?” He asks, pointing to the opposite end of the table I’m currently occupying.
“Not at all.” I respond, idly tidying my area self consciously.
“Sorry, sometimes it’s a little overwhelming inside and I come out here to get away.” He says by way of explanation, laying down the sketch pad he carried with him along with a few pencils and a smudge stick. “Mostly I just come out here to draw uninterrupted.” He sits and flips to an empty page, tilting it a little away from my view.
“I get it, large crowds aren’t my thing either. Plus in the two days I’ve known Emmett I can already tell that he probably creates a hostile drawing environment.” I finish with a light chuckle, turning my attention toward the unfinished apple in my hand.
“You draw too?” He asks, eyebrows lifting as he begins a rough sketch on the blank paper.
“Oh heck no, I don’t have any artistic abilities like that, as much as I wish I did.” I frown, taking a bite of my apple.
“I didn’t think I had it in me either, but I took some classes, watched some videos online, and doodled around a lot. Finally got the hang of it although I still don’t really think I’m that good.” He trails off, concentrating on his pencil strokes. “It helps with the stress though, especially when there’s a lot going on.”
“That is… actually kind of neat. Having an outlet that’s also inspiring, creating art and it centering you in the process.” I muse out loud, watching a face beginning to take shape on his paper.
I’m about to ask who he’s drawing when the bell signaling the end of lunch rings out in the empty air surrounding us. I gather my trash and stand while he tucks his supplies away.
“Thanks for keeping me company today.” I tell him as I gaze into his beautifully golden eyes, not quite ready to part ways with him.
“Thanks for allowing me to disturb your peace and quiet.” And as if reading my mind, “Mind if I walk you to your next class?”
“Oh um, sure.” Trying not to seem too excited by the proposition of spending more time in this gorgeous boy’s presence. I tuck some loose strands of hair behind my ear and walk towards him.
“Lead the way, darlin’.” He announces, sweeping his arm in the direction of the main school building, a smirk on his lips.
I laugh and shake my head at his antics, a blush creeping up my cheeks as I walk past him in the direction of my economics class.
Ditching my trash in the trash can as we leave the quad, I miss the way he grins at the accomplishment of making me giggle. I also fail to notice the astounded looks of his adopted siblings as we pass them unaware of their presence through the windows of the cafeteria. Faces reflecting their shocked thoughts at seeing their brother openly flirting with a female compared to his normal stoic facade.
“How did you do it?” Emmett asks, leaning against the locker next to mine.
“Could you be a little more specific?” I ask, a little confused by his blunt question.
“You’ve been here less than a week and my brother is wrapped around your little finger.” He says, holding up his pinky to wiggle in my face.
I laugh and shut my locker, “Emmett, I’ve had all of like two interactions with Jasper, you’re looking into this a little too much.”
“He usually keeps to himself, this isn't the normal Jasper we’re talking about.” He falls into step slightly behind me on my way to the last class of the day, his large build not moving through the throng of students as quickly as I am.
I turn to look at my new friend, “I literally have no clue, it’s probably nothing Em!” My heart picking up speed at just the thought of Jasper. Is he actually interested in me? Is that what Emmett is getting at?
There’s no way, beautiful people like him don’t go for people like me.
I turn and leave Emmett behind in the hallway as students finish rushing through the halls, the tardy bell ringing.
American History, the class I share with Jasper Hale and it also happens to be the last class of the day. Unfortunately though, his assigned seat is on the other side of the room. At least it’s more forward than mine, leaving me to observe him for most of the class period without him seeing.
History is also my worst subject; whether it’s world or US history, I hate it all the same. So many mistakes and atrocities, I wish I could let it flow in one ear and out the other without having to remember it for tests.
Today though, I get the sense our teacher has had a difficult day since he’s decided to let us work together freely. Seeing as I don’t really know anyone yet, I’m forced to work alone.
As if he could feel my discomfort and irritation with the assignment, Jasper Hale appears at the edge of my peripheral vision, claiming the abandoned desk next to mine and turning a few heads of our classmates.
“You’re thinking so loud I could practically hear it from across the room.” He mutters lowly without looking up from his worksheet.
“I’m thinking too loud?” I respond defensively as I cut him a look that would normally skin boys alive.
“Would you like some help or not, doll?” He asks, a grin sliding across his lips as his eyes meet mine in challenge.
“I-uh, I hate history.” I manage to blurt out, a little flustered that he so easily bypassed my frustrated facade without a blink.
“I do want that explanation eventually, but we have work to finish and only,” He breaks eye contact to glance at the clock above the board, “thirty seven minutes left before you’re on your own.”
“Alright Hale, what did you get for number four?” I deflate and accept his offer to save me from the misery of suffering through this stupid assignment alone.
Next
#jasper hale#jasper hale x reader#jasper whitlock hale#twilight fanfiction#twilight#jasper hale fanfiction#jasper whitlock#bless-my-demons#redamancy series#slow burn#female reader insert
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nineteen — no idea
fuck ur instincts — suna x reader & atsumu x reader
you and suna are just fooling around—so why does he care so much when you start falling in love with someone else?
previous — masterlist — next
word count. 1.7k
content. swearing, sex mentions, some angst, some fluff
You can’t seem to focus at all.
Maybe it’s the professor and the way she talks really slow. Maybe it’s Iwaizumi doodling dinosaurs into your notebook right beside you. Maybe it’s Yukawa (is that his name? You’re not quite sure) sitting right behind you, still trying to get the nerve to ask for your number. Fuck, maybe it’s the wind. Who knows?
Nothing is getting past your skull today. You groan, realizing you’ll have to go through all the material again later just to understand it.
“You okay?” Iwaizumi asks. He opens a pack of marshmallows and puts it on the table in front of the two of you.
“Yeah,” you tell him, sticking one in your mouth. “I’m fine.”
You know you should stop talking, that there’s no reason for you to continue, but your mouth has a mind of its own—
“I’m dating Atsumu.”
Your friend blinks at you. “You’re… what?”
You purse your lips. Oh, you realize, that’s why I can’t focus.
“Yeah,” you say again. “He’s kinda my… boyfriend.”
Iwaizumi stays quiet, popping two—no, five marshmallows into his mouth and very slowly chewing them. When they dissolve on his tongue, he eats another five.
“You don’t have to say anything,” you tell him.
He shakes his head, mouth still full. “Just let me process.”
When the professor dismisses the class, he’s still stuck in his seat, stuffing his mouth with marshmallows.
“Iwa.”
He holds a finger up. “Wait.”
You slump into your seat beside him, waiting for him to plow through the whole bag.
“Y/N?”
Yukawa.
You glance over your shoulder and find the boy looking at you shyly. “Yeah?”
“Right so I was wondering,” he says, clearing his throat, “do you wanna go grab some coffee with me?”
Iwaizumi cuts you off before you can even open your mouth. “She’s taken!”
Yukawa’s eyes grow wide. “Oh! Shit, okay.”
“She’s dating Atsumu,” your friend continues. “Miya Atsumu. Don’t wanna cross him, man.”
The memory of that day at the cafeteria seems to flash in the boy’s mind.
“Fuck, right, sorry!” he exclaims, quickly gathering his things. He bows at you quickly. “Really sorry. Bye.”
You gape at Iwaizumi. “What the fuck was that?”
He shrugs. “I’ve processed,” he says. He picks up his bag and walks out of the classroom, leaving you to rush after him.
“So?” you ask when you’ve caught up. The two of you are in the hall now, on your way to the coffee shop you’d promised to meet Oikawa at. “What do you think?”
“About?”
You elbow him. “Atsumu, dumbass.”
Iwaizumi opens his mouth to say something. Then closes it. Then opens it again. Then closes it. Then, “I don’t know.”
“What do you mean you don’t know?”
“I don’t know,” he repeats. “What do you think?”
“I don’t know.”
“Exactly.”
You get to the coffee shop and find your best friend already smiling and waving you over. You swallow the lump in your throat. You’re gonna have to tell him too.
Oikawa urges you into the seat beside him. “Took you long enough.”
“It’s Iwa’s fault,” you say automatically.
“Oh?” Iwaizumi raises his brow, sitting down across the table. “You sure about that?”
You wince when you realize he has the ammo here, not you. “No, it’s my fault.”
Oikawa puts his face in his hands and flutters his eyelashes at you. “Do tell.”
“Promise you won’t be mad?”
He squints. “What did you do?”
“Nothing!” you say. “Nothing bad at least.”
Your best friend crosses his arms and frowns at you. It’s like he’s trying to read your mind and, honestly, you haven’t been able to prove that he can’t.
“Tell me,” he says.
“It’s not a big deal,” you insist. “I’m just, you know… dating Atsumu now.”
“Like for real?”
“Yeah.”
“Like you’re his girlfriend?”
“Uh-uh.”
“He’s your boyfriend?”
You narrow your eyes. “Tooru.”
He throws his hands up. “I’m just checking!” he says. “Wasn’t sure if you meant it the way I thought you did.”
“What do you think I meant?” you ask, tilting your head as a bewildered expression takes over your features.
“I don’t know!” Oikawa exclaims. “You kids have weird ways of labeling relationships.”
“I’m literally older than you.”
He shrugs, smirking as he sips his coffee. “I’ve been in a relationship longer than you.”
You scoff. “Well, I’m gonna be better at it than you.”
“As if.”
You look over at Iwaizumi. “Iwa, remind me again about how Tooru was late for your anniversary dinner.”
The boy smiles, much to Oikawa’s dismay. “Yeah, he still kinda owes me for that.”
“I said I was sorry!”
Suna stretches himself out on the couch, flipping through the channels on the television. There really isn’t much to watch nowadays. “Why do you guys even have cable?”
Osamu grunts, shifting in his seat. “How am I supposed to know?”
“For the news,” Atsumu supplies, scrolling through his phone on the floor. “At least that’s what Ma says. She pays for it anyway.”
Kita walks into the room with Aran on his heels. “Remind me why we’re here again.”
“Atsumu has something to tell us,” Suna says, lazily hanging his head off the side of the couch. “But he’s being awfully quiet.”
The blond hushes him. “Just gotta wait.”
“For what? Pigs to fly?”
“Shhh!”
“My theory is he forgot what he was gonna say,” Osamu says as Kita and Aran pile onto the couch beside him. “He’s just too embarrassed to admit he forgot.”
“Ya guys are—”
Tap. Tap. Tap.
“Aha!” Atsumu exclaims, jumping onto his feet and bolting for the door. “Yer gonna eat yer words.”
He unlocks the door and opens it up to find you standing there, a nervous smile on your face as you poke your head in to see the others.
“Hi,” you say, removing your shoes and sliding into a pair of slippers they keep by the door.
“Told ya!” Atsumu says, slinging his arm around you and walking you over to the others. “It’s Y/N!”
“We know it’s Y/N,” Osamu deadpans. He looks over at you and grins. “Hi, Y/N, whatcha doin’ here?”
Your eyes flit over to Suna. He’s looking at you, his expression a mix of worry and confusion. He hasn’t seen you since the party, since the you called things off between the two of you.
You try to look away.
“Oh, you know,” you start, nudging Atsumu, “he has something to say.”
“Right!” He perks up. “Everyone, this is Y/N—my girlfriend.”
The room is a little hard to read. Osamu is clearly amused, Aran is a little concerned, Kita is somewhere between the two, and Suna is, well… not entirely there.
“Well, we kinda saw it coming,” Kita says eventually. “Right, boys?”
Osamu starts cackling. “Yeah, man. This isn’t the news ya think it is.”
Atsumu huffs. “How ‘bout be happy for me for once!”
“Good luck?” Aran offers you as Atsumu starts chasing Osamu around the house, trying to tackle him. “I mean, ya know what yer gettin’ into, right?”
You watch as your boyfriend chases his brother into the bathroom. “I guess I do.”
It doesn’t take long for them to settle down and start ordering dinner, Kita busy making sure everyone gets the right food and Aran heading out to get some ice. The twins get into an argument about whose turn it is to wash the dishes, leaving you and Suna in the living room.
“So,” you say, trying to clear the tension. “This isn’t weird, right?”
He looks at you blankly. “Why would it be weird?”
You let out an awkward chuckle. “Right. Why would it be weird?”
“Yeah. It isn’t.”
“I was gonna tell you—”
“You didn’t have to,” he says. His voice seems far away, like he’s speaking to you through a wall. “I’m happy for you. For both of you.”
He gets up from the couch and goes out to the balcony, leaving you there with a sick feeling growing in your stomach. You stare at your feet, overwhelmed by a sense of guilt and anger.
You don’t owe him anything.
It wasn’t anything.
It was just sex.
“Ya know, just ‘cause yer together now, doesn’t mean ya can just fuck on the couch,” Osamu says when he walks into the living room later that night.
Atsumu frowns, looking at the whole couch’s worth of space between the two of you. “We’re not even touching though.”
“Just sayin’,” his brother says, giving you both the evil eye, “I’ll know.”
You look up from the book you're reading as he makes his way to his bedroom. “Night, ‘Samu!”
“Night, Y/N,” he says, opening his door.
“How ‘bout me?” Atsumu demands, glancing between you and his brother. “Don’t I get a ‘good night’?”
“Did ya say ‘good night’ to me?”
“No.”
Osamu gives his brother a disappointed look before stepping into his room and closing the door behind him.
“Oh, we are so fuckin’ on the couch tonight.”
You let out a laugh. “Kinda tired, babe.”
Atsumu smirks, inching closer to you. “‘S’okay,” he says. “I can do all the work.”
“Such a horndog,” you giggle, lightly pushing his head away.
He sighs, letting his head fall in your lap. “Can I kiss ya at least?” he asks. “Tell ‘Samu we made out on the couch?”
You roll your eyes. “Just one kiss.”
He grins. “I’ll take it.”
Closing your eyes, you lean down and catch his lips in a gentle kiss. The angle is a little awkward and the contact is sloppy, but you don’t mind it. You can taste the mint of his toothpaste and smell the cologne he’s wearing.
Everything about him is just Atsumu, all that he is. Wonderful and terrible enough to make your heart beat out of your chest.
You pull back and find him smiling at you from ear to ear.
“Hi,” he says.
“Hi,” you say back.
“How do ya feel ‘bout all this?”
“Honestly?” You bite your lip. “It feels right.”
He nods, taking your land in his and placing a light kiss on the back of it. “I think so too,” he tells you. “Feels exactly the way it’s supposed to.”
You use your other hand to play with his hair, still damp from his shower. “I really like you, ‘Tsumu.”
He leans into your touch. “I really like ya too.”
“Glad we’re on the same page,” you say, smiling down at him.
“Oh, ya have no idea, sweetheart.”
notes. how’s everyone doing :D
#hqbaby.fyi#hqbaby#haikyuu#suna rintarou#suna#suna rintarou x reader#suna x reader#miya atsumu#atsumu#miya atsumu x reader#atsumu x reader#haikyuu x reader#suna rintarou fic#suna fic#miya atsumu fic#atsumu fic#haikyuu fic
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best friend dina, teaching gf ellie, how to help when your overstimulated!!
omg. that’s so sososososos cute (fem reader)
“i dunno, i feel like — i don’t know. like i’m not doing enough to help her. sometimes things happen, or things get too loud or she gets too hot or cold and she just… shuts down. she gets all panicked and i feel so fuckin’ helpless. she looks all lost and scared and small and she’s looking to me to help her, but i… don’t know how.” ellie ranted, sat wearing an old dirty white tank top and her jeans leaning against the wall, her elbows resting on her knees. dina sat curled up in her seat where she’d been reading previously before her best friend ellie had interrupted to come and hang out.
• “well, atleast it’s clear she really trusts you. i mean it seems like a suuuper vulnerable place to be in.” dina sat forward, invested. she adjusted her ponytail, feeling hot from the summer heat that had crept in.
• “yeah, joel helped her out once when i wasn’t there. said she was over…overwhelmed? nah that wasn’t it.” ellie thought, picking at her lip wracking her memory.
• “overstimulated.” dina clarified, the tone in her voice indicating that this had given her some kind of realisation over the situation. “oh, poor thing. she is quite emotional huh, i’ve seen her get pretty worked up. yeah that makes so much sense.” dina pouted sympathetically touching her chest making ellie frown curiously.
• dina explained what it meant, ellie nodding along feeling like she should be taking notes.
• “you just need to comfort her, el. but be… mindful of what she needs in that moment. ask her.” she advised and ellie stood up, dusting off her pants and stretching her legs.
• “yeah, okay. shit — i’d be totally lost without you D, i’ll catch you later okay?”
• ellie’s now standing in the doorway to your shared room, playing with her hands as she watches you almost analytically for a moment before you notice her stood there. you’re drawing in your notepad, feeling a lot calmer from when you’d had a bit of an overstimulation fuelled breakdown earlier in the day.
• “hi els.” you greet casually, your voice quiet and a little hoarse from exhausting yourself earlier.
• “hey baby.” she wanders in, coming to perch on the edge of the bed next to where you were sat on the floor with your back to it. she gently runs a hand over the crown of your head, peering over at your paper. small doodles of animals and flowers and trees, she smiles. “can i… uh, ask you something?”
• a small ‘mhm’ sounds from you and she continues, drawing in a breath. “so… you know when you have those… you know when you kind of… freak out a little.” she begins, cringing at her word choice. she sees your pen stop shading and you tense up every so slightly, saying nothing for a moment before speaking.
• “ellie… i’m really sorry. i’m really trying to get better at controlling my emotions. you shouldn’t have to deal with —” you started and she’s jumping up to sit on the floor next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder with her face turned towards you, pinched in horror and guilt.
• “hey! no, no — babe, that’s- that’s not where i was going with that. at all. ‘kay? i was gonna ask— how can i help you? i wanna be there for you, ‘ya know? but i have no idea what to do and i feel like i’m being a totally shitty girlfriend so… lay it on me. tell me what you need.” she explained herself breathlessly, chasing each word like she was worried she wouldn’t explain fast enough and upset you.
• you deflated, turning to look at her with wide watery eyes, your heart melting.
• “you’re not a shitty girlfriend ellie.” you pout, leaning in and kissing her. you then help explain how you feel, and some warning signs that you’re getting overstimulated so she can help get you out of any situations that might make you freak out <3333
♡
#anon#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams fluff#ellie williams headcanons#ellie williams drabble#ellie williams prompt
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Stuck Here A Little While
That’s right, I’ve finally done it. After teasing for months, I hecking wrote the fic. In this AU, Grian and Mumbo Jumbo are borrowers. If you don’t know what that is, go watch The Secret World of Arrietty or something.
I am more familiar with some of these people than others, so I am hoping my characterization for each is at least decent. [] Lastly, I want to mention the drawings I’ve included were doodled over the past few months as I’ve been thinking about the story. I hope you enjoy~
EDIT: I finally named the story.
Grian had just escaped being tormented by a stray cat, making it out alive, but bleeding profusely from a deep bite wound. He hobbled into an alley and sat against the wall. Blood was trailing into the street. He was unable to move much, so he was basically waiting to die. Just then, Lizzie was arriving home with some groceries and stopped at the sight of the blood. She followed it into the alley and found Grian. She pushed the shock of the sight to the back of her mind, as his wellbeing was clearly more urgent. She set her bags down and gently went to pick him up. As this developed, Grian was thinking to himself. He knows what humans are like, generally. That they’re just people. Some are dangerous, some are kind, some are manipulative. Borrowers are taught from a young age not to mingle with humans, because even if one seems friendly, it’s not worth the risk of being tricked. But in this case, he had no choice. So he was desperately hoping this was a nice one. She carried him inside and set him on the kitchen counter by the sink. She told him to stay calm and assured him she was going to take care of him.
She said, “I’m going to lift your shirt up to see the wound, okay?” As she worked, she kept communicating with him, so as not to scare him.
“This is really nasty. How did this happen?” She asked. Grian explained that he had been caught by a cat and barely got away. Lizzie cleaned and disinfected the bite, then had him keep pressure on it while she got bandages. After he was wrapped up, she grabbed a bottle of paracetamol and laid a pill on the counter. To Grian’s horror, she brought out a big chopping knife. She used it to cut the pill, and half of it crumbled into a lump of powder. She asked him to take a pinch of it. She then filled a shot glass with water and stuck a coffee stirrer in it. She apologized that it was still awkwardly large, but it was the best she could do. She gave him the water and instructed him to use it to take the pain medicine. She then asked for his jumper so she could try and get the blood out of it. This was a task she didn’t need to speak to him about, and it was going to take a few minutes, so they finally had a moment of quiet to take the situation in. After a pause, Grian spoke up, “Thank you for helping me. I don’t think I would have made it.”
“Of course!” She replied, a bit anxiously, “I mean, you looked like you really needed help. I wasn’t gonna just leave you there. I’m Lizzie, by the way.”
“Oh, right. Uh, my name’s Grian.”
There was another pause before Lizzie asked him, “I’m sorry. This- I don’t know if this is a rude thing to ask, but… What are you?” Grian was taken aback.
“I- I’m a borrower. I don’t- do I look like something else?”
“No, but, well… What’s a borrower? That sounds more like an occupation than a species.” He couldn’t believe his ears. Lizzie had never even heard of borrowers. She didn’t know what they were. I mean, he supposed it made sense, but it had never even occurred to him. All borrowers are taught not to talk to humans and to stay out of sight. How in the world were humans supposed to know they were around? She really didn’t know anything. He was going to have to start from scratch.
“It’s sort of both.” He informed her. “We’re called that because we borrow things. Small things that humans wouldn’t miss. Like tissues, a bit of sugar, some string, that sort of thing. We use those things to feed ourselves and build our lives. We live in small, isolated communities. We have to. If too many of us are in one place, we get too noisy, and they find us.” He stopped, realizing what he was beginning to say. He wasn’t sure how to talk to a human about how much of a threat humans are to his kind.
Lizzie pressed the shirt between her fingers under the stream of tap water, and the stream turned red briefly. “So… you’re saying there are more of you. And that you’re all over the place, but no one has ever noticed you?”
“That’s been the goal.”
“That doesn’t make any sense. For all the scientists and record keepers over all of human history, I can’t be the first human to have ever spoken to a borrower. Do you have some sort of camouflage magic or something?”
Grian raised his eyebrows. “Oh, no, you misunderstand! You’re not the first. In the grand scheme of things, we get found relatively often. Besides families becoming too large, being found is probably the number one reason borrowers move house. Growing up, we hear our parents repeat all kinds of horror stories about borrowers who-” He stumbled over his sentence, but pressed through, “Who- well, who encountered a human… and didn't… come back.”
“WHAT!?” Lizzie startled Grian with her volume. He flinched and then winced. The sudden motion disturbed his wound. “You’re telling me that humans have found tiny little men and then decided to HURT THEM!? WHY?” After getting her whole thought out, she saw how scared Grian looked and shrunk backward. “S-sorry. I didn’t mean to shout. I just- I just can’t imagine why someone would want to hurt you. You’re just… You’re just a little guy.” She had started to drift into a bit of a baby voice at the end there. Grian chuckled, and then winced.
Grumbling he said, “Aw, you’ve got to be kidding me! It even hurts to laugh.”
“Listen,” Lizzie began, “I know we’ve only just met, but you’re clearly in no state to go back outside. I can try to help you get back home or, if you want, you’re completely welcome to stay here for as long as you need. It won’t be any trouble, really!” Grian paused to think on this. Lizzie couldn’t help him get home, even if she tried. He couldn’t think of any way for her to access his home without tearing some things apart, and there was no way he was going to be able to drag himself to his house by himself. Even if he could, once he was there, there wouldn’t be anyone to take care of him. He wished he could just stay with his neighbor, Mumbo, but he knew that was just as unlikely. He found himself in essentially the same position as when she found him outside, in that he really didn’t have any choice.
He looked back up at her. “Yeah, I don’t imagine I can get anywhere else with or without help. I really appreciate it.” Lizzie was now patting the little yellow jumper dry between some paper towels. Unfortunately, she wasn’t able to get all of the blood out. It covered the lower right half of the jumper and had already dried at the edges. While the stain was much more faded from being washed, it was still clearly present; Although if you didn’t know any better, it almost looked like an intentional design. She set it down next to him.
“Sorry. I wasn’t able to get all the blood out. But at least it looks a lot better than when I found you outs- - Outside! The groceries!” Without another word, she sprinted out the front door to retrieve the bags she had left in the alley. Now that he was alone, Grian turned his head gently to look behind him. Behind the sugar jar he could barely see it. A little inconspicuous crack around the rim of a backsplash tile. He turned back to the jumper sitting next to him. This was his favourite jumper. There was no way, even able bodied, that he would have been able to do this good a job with the stain. As he put it back on, Lizzie came back in. She set the bags down and began to unpack them. Once everything was put in the fridge, she sighed in relief. As she folded the bags to put away, she asked him if he had eaten lunch. He said he was fine, so she told him she was going to retire to the living room and to give her a shout if he needed anything. It felt a bit impolite to leave him alone, but she was a little scared to move him. And she didn’t know him very well yet. She thought it best to give him his space. She didn’t shut the kitchen door behind her. From where Grian was, he could barely see Lizzie take a seat on a recliner, open a bag of pretzels, and turn the TV on. She kept it on low volume. Grian examined his wound again. He tried to stand, but couldn’t. At least, not without bearing severe pain. He winced as he tried to at least find a way to rest that was comfortable. The cold countertop did not make for a very good bed. Giving up, he called out.
“Lizzie!” She popped up from her chair and poked her head back into the kitchen.
“Yeah?”
“I hate to be a bother, I know you just sat down, but is there anything more comfortable I could rest on?” Lizzie looked around and thought to herself. She went to the linen closet and grabbed a couple of hand towels. She came back and arranged them on the counter like a bed with a pillow and blanket, with plenty of back support. She offered him a finger to hold for stability as he climbed onto it.
“This is much more comfortable, thank you.”
“It’s no problem. Again, don’t hesitate to shout if you need anything at all. You don’t need to be exerting yourself while that heals.” She returned to the living room to watch her show. Grian laid back and pulled the blanket up. He figured, as bad as he felt, the best thing to do was probably to try and get some rest. He closed his eyes and tried to clear his mind.
He had never been less tired in his life. A couple minutes passed. He opened his eyes. He knew there was no way he was going to get any sleep. He could faintly hear the TV in the next room, but couldn’t understand enough of the dialogue to follow the story. There was nothing else to keep his interest in this room. He bit his lip. He knew exactly what he wanted, but he felt terrible asking for it.
“Lizzie…” He called as timidly as he could while retaining enough volume to be heard. Lizzie got up and poked her head back through the doorway.
“Yeah?”
“I don’t want to be a bother. I- I mean I hate to intrude. I was just wondering… if you wouldn’t mind letting me come watch TV with you?”
“Ah.” She looked down and to the side, with what appeared to be a frustrated expression. Grian felt awful. He was being the imposition he feared to become.
“I-it’s okay. I’m sorry I even asked. You just go ahead and watch by your-”
Lizzie cut him off “What? No no no. Of course you can come! I’d love the company. I’m just trying to figure out how to transport you without disturbing your wound. I think I’ve got an idea.” She stepped into the living room and picked up a wooden lap tray off the ottoman. She brought it into the kitchen and aligned the surface with the countertop in front of Grian. Ensuring the surfaces were adequately flush, she leaned forward to hold it in place with her knee and hip. She held the near corners of the towel between her fingers and gently slid the whole make-shift bed onto the tray. She moved his water to the tray as well, then took the tray back in her hands and slowly carried it back into the living room, taking care not to spill the water or jostle the Grian. She set it down on the end table between the two recliners. She took a seat herself and turned the volume up a little. She unrolled her bag of pretzels and popped one in her mouth, then offered one to Grian. He held it in both hands and took a tiny little bite out of it. Lizzie had to remind herself that this was a grown man and just a regular old person. She had to fight the urge to absolutely melt because no matter what it was, everything he did was adorable.
An episode or two of TV later, the two heard a door open across the house. Lizzie recognized it as the sound of her husband, Joel, coming home from work. Grian also recognized that a new human had entered the house and tensed up. His instinct was to run and hide. But with that option eliminated, what was he meant to do? He stared at the doorway, frozen in fear. Joel entered the living room and Lizzie greeted him.
“Joel! The craziest thing happened today and you wouldn’t believe it if you couldn’t see it with your own eyes!” Joel hadn’t noticed Grian yet. He was a bit sarcastically indignant.
“Oh, I see. We just go straight to talking about you. No ‘How was your day?’ No, it’s fine!”
“Joel! Look!” Lizzie gestured to Grian, who was shrinking behind his towel-blanket, eyes darting between Lizzie and Joel. Joel stared in awed silence. He slowly climbed into the empty recliner to get a better look, gaze fixed on Grian the whole time.
Lizzie continued, “I went to the shop today and when I came home I found him bleeding out in the alley, so I brought him in and cleaned him up. His name is Grian. Grian, this is my husband, Joel.” Grian felt as if Lizzie was encouraging him to feel comfortable, but it was hard with such big eyes fixed so securely on him. He wasn’t able to formulate a reply.
Joel spoke slowly, in a quiet voice, “Hey there little guy… What are you?” Grian began to stutter the words out, but before he could make much noise Lizzie blurted it out.
“He says he’s a borrower! They’re just like humans except small, of course, and they-”
Joel cut her off, “Yeah, I know what a borrower is. I just thought they were make-believe, you know?” His gaze had now relaxed. He had looked at Lizzie to speak to her.
Grian finally piped up, “Y-you’ve heard of borrowers?”
“Yeah, I mean, I’ve heard of lots of mythical creatures from books and stuff as a kid. I used to have a book about borrowers. Is that surprising?”
“Only because Lizzie hadn’t heard of us. But to be fair you’re the second human I’ve ever spoken to, so I don’t really have anything else to go on.” Grian was intrigued by the idea of human literature about borrowers. He wondered what they knew.
Grian ended up spending the rest of the evening picking Joel’s brain about that book, learning what humans know about and correcting what it got wrong. When it got to be late, Lizzie and Joel got ready to head off to bed. Lizzie tried to make sure Grian would have everything he could need for the night. She left the remote next to him in case he wanted to watch some TV. She told him if he needed anything to turn the volume up real high, rather than straining his voice calling for them.
“Is there anything else? Another towel, something to drink? Anything at all?” Lizzie flustered herself trying to exhaust possible problems.
“There is one thing I’m worried about.” Grian hesitated. “It’s just… I had someone coming over tonight.”
Grian invited a guest over on his first day staying here? Lizzie was puzzled. “How did you- oh no of course you mean where you live.”
“Well, you see, that’s the thing. I wasn’t really sure how to bring this up… I kinda… live… here.”
Lizzie paused. “YOU LIVE IN OUR WALLS!?” Grian winced from the volume, and the embarrassment.
“No, not technically. I live… well, I think it’s under the living room somewhere. I-I do have passageways in some of the walls though, yes.”
Lizzie couldn’t tell how she should feel about this, other than being surprised. Angry, perhaps? “So this whole time! This whole time you already knew this place, huh! I thought I was bringing you into a big strange mysterious place but this is just home-sweet-home!”
“I wouldn’t go that far. I’ve only explored the areas I can borrow from. A lot of this place is really unfamiliar to me, especially lit up like this. I uh, I did already know your names, though.” Grian watched her expression get more flustered and became more embarrassed. “I probably should have said something right away, but I mean, this entire situation has been so bizarre. It’s not like I knew the best thing to do… Does this… change anything? Should I leave?”
That final comment brought Lizzie into clarity, and she calmed down quickly. “No, no, of course not! I still want you to stay here as long as you need to heal. You’re completely welcome here. It’s just- I mean you know that changes everything, right?”
“Does it?” Grian asked. Lizzie paused to think.
“I guess I don’t know.”
After a chunk of silence, Grian repeated himself. “So, I uh.. I was worried, because I had someone coming over tonight. If I’m not where he expects to find me, he’s gonna get worried, and he’s not gonna know where else to look.” Lizzie agreed that was not ideal and asked how she could help. Grian asked if she had a scrap of paper and something small to write with. She said she didn’t have any small writing utensils. He asked if she had any pencils she could break the tip off of. She brought him a pencil tip and a sticky note. He wrote a message down and folded it up. He instructed her to check behind the TV and down a bit for a hole. She turned the screen so she could squeeze her head through the gap, and spotted the hole in the wall about halfway between the TV stand and the floor. She slipped the note through for Grian’s friend to find. After confirming that Grian wouldn’t need anything else, she turned the lights out and went to bed.
Later that night, Grian was awoken by a rustling noise. He looked over towards the TV stand to see just what he was hoping to find. Mumbo Jumbo was crouched under the screen, scanning the room for Grian. Grian sat up a little, waved his hand in the air, and called out for Mumbo at a normal speaking volume. Mumbo was alarmed, and looked angry. He stepped to the edge of the TV stand and pulled a lever on the contraption he had strapped to his back. Two thin wire and leather wings sprung up and he glided over to where Grian was.
Mumbo whispered harshly, “Grian! Have you lost your mind!? What are you thinking, setting up camp in the middle of the living room like this? And if you don’t keep your voice down one of the humans might hear you!!”
“Mumbo! Mumbo, calm down! I need to catch you up on what happened to me today.” Grian explained to Mumbo that he was attacked by a cat and Lizzie saved his life. He’s too weak to try and go back home and Lizzie offered to take care of him. He knows they aren’t supposed to trust humans, because they could be deceived, but he doesn’t feel he has enough of a choice to doubt. Besides, Lizzie and Joel seem nice. Mumbo objects as much as he can, but Grian kind of has a point. Mumbo could try to help Grian get out of there, but it wouldn’t be a smooth process. Grian would risk getting even more hurt.
Mumbo asked if there was anything he could do to help. Grian explained to Mumbo about the pain medicine Lizzie gave him, and that it had worn off. Mumbo asked how she could possibly have given him medicine. Even the smallest human pills are too big to swallow and would be a sure overdose for a borrower. Grian looked at him with a puzzled expression. He had no idea how human medicine worked. He explained that she cut a pill and just had him take a pinch. Mumbo told him he’s lucky nothing bad happened and asked him where the medicine was. Grian told him it’s probably still a pile of dust by the kitchen sink. Mumbo glided into the kitchen. It was too far a distance to maintain the altitude needed to land on the counter, so he landed on the floor and pulled a device off his pack. He set the metal rectangular object on the ground and stood on top of it. He positioned himself a certain way to make sure his aim was good and then pressed a button on his pack. The device expanded quickly like a piston, sending Mumbo into the air with a trail of string following behind him. He stuck the landing on the counter and then pulled his device up by the string and reattached it to his pack.
Once on the counter he pondered the pile of pill dust for a moment before deciding it was useless to him. He climbed into the cabinets and found the paracetamol bottle. He was able to use the instructions and measurements on the label to determine, roughly, what would be an appropriate equivalent dose for a borrower. Looking around he spotted a chocolate bar, too. Little portioned piles of powder are difficult to keep track of, so that’d be useful for sure. Being a resourceful borrower, he was able to find the tools to cut and portion the pills, melt the chocolate, mix the pill powder into it, and cool his home-made borrower-sized paracetamol chocolates. He found a sticky note and wrote down dosage instructions for Grian. He dug a plastic bottle cap out of the trash and cleaned it off so he’d have something to carry the chocolates in. He cleaned everything up and glided back on over to Grian, again using his piston device to reach the end table. Grian was elated to have more medicine, and very impressed at all the effort Mumbo went through to make sure he didn’t overdose. Grian, knowing he’d be here a while and the humans attempts at borrower accommodations were sub optimal, also asked Mumbo to go to his house and retrieve some of his plates and cups. When Mumbo got back, they hung out and chatted for a while longer over a pretzel. They talked into the late hours of the night and ended up dozing off without realizing.
The next morning, Mumbo awoke suddenly at the sound of footsteps. He looked around in a panic, realizing he had failed to go home last night, and he was now exposed in the sun-lit human living room. He didn’t see any humans around. Hoping they must have just woken up, and not come out yet, he made a dash for the nearest exit. He slipped out without being seen, but as Joel came into the living room he did notice a bit of a rustling noise coming from the TV area. Joel looked down at a still sleeping Grian and noticed a few more items there than there were last night. He picked up the bottle cap to get a closer look at its contents. The text on the attached sticky note was difficult to read because it was so small. He set it down, looked at Grian for another moment, and then took one of Grian’s plates and continued on into the kitchen.
A bit later, Lizzie came into the living room as well. She leaned over Grian to check on him. She gently tried to pull at the towel to get a better look at his bandages. They were very dirty by now and needed to be changed. The tugging at the towel woke Grian up, and the looming figure set his heart racing. He flinched and let out a little scream.
“It’s just me! It’s just me!” Lizzie reassured him.
“You scared the life out of me!!” He scolded.
She apologized. Joel poked his head in from the kitchen to ask Lizzie if she wanted some breakfast. She did.
“Oh, Grian, you’re up! Wait one second.” Joel went back into the kitchen for a moment and then returned with Grian’s plate. It had two tiny strips of bacon cut from a full strip, a corner of a piece of toast, and a singular baked bean on it. He set it down next to Grian “I made you a plate.”
“Oh my goodness, thank you!” Exclaimed Grian. “Wow, this smells amazing!” This breakfast wasn’t much like anything he had had before. Grian was used to cooking with much smaller ingredients. Baked beans came in a can larger than him. It was hard to borrow meat because you can usually tell when some of it has been taken. So the meat he ate usually came from smaller animals or bugs that he had hunted. The only thing familiar was the toast, although he had only ever had home-made bread. He was trying store-bought bread for the first time. He didn’t think it was as good. After eating, Lizzie put her coat on and waved goodbye to the boys. She was off to work for the day. Joel cleaned up the kitchen and then brought some bandages over to Grian and asked him to lift his shirt.
“Yeah, I figured.” Joel said, “It’s gotten pretty nasty. Let’s get some clean bandages on you, alright?” Joel slowly removed the bandage, cleaned the wound, and wrapped Grian up in fresh cloth. After putting the first aid away, he got his coat on as well. He asked Grian if he’d need anything else while he was gone. Grian said he’d be fine. Joel let him know he worked close by and would try to pop in occasionally to check on him. Joel said goodbye and headed out. His place of work was very close by. Right next door, in fact. He worked as a part-time caretaker for his disabled neighbor. Joel let himself in with his key and called out into the house.
“Good morning, Scar! I’m here!” Scar rolled backwards from his office to poke his head out into the hall and wave.
“Mornin’ Joel!” They continued with small talk as Joel hung up his coat. Scar followed him into the kitchen to chat with him while he started on his tasks. Scar did need the help, but his favorite thing about Joel coming around was just having someone to talk to. He lived alone and it was hard for him to get out of the house. Joel got to a stopping point and excused himself to use the restroom. After doing so, while washing his hands, the medicine cabinet mirror mysteriously swung open and knocked him in the noggin. As he turned the faucet off and reached for the hand towel, he looked up at the open cabinet. To his surprise, standing on the top shelf and leaning against a bottle was a tiny little mustachioed man.
“So, you’re the one watching after Grian.”
“Oh, you must be Mumbo, right? Grian mentioned you, but I didn’t realize you lived here!” Mumbo fumbled his composure. He didn’t expect to be recognized.
“W-well listen up, bud! You better not hurt him, alright? Don’t underestimate me. I can make life very hard for you.” Joel leaned in and spoke a little more quietly.
“Does Scar know about you?” Once again, Mumbo was sweating.
“No.”
“Wow… You’re being very brave right now.”
“Huh?”
“You don’t even know me and you’ve come to confront me like this? AND you’re trusting me with your secret? I mean, I could just walk out and tell Scar about you right now. And if I don’t, I’m here all the time. I could reveal your secret at any time. It’s respectable, I think. You must really care about Grian.” It was at this time that Mumbo accepted to himself he never really had the high ground at all. He almost felt as if he was getting smaller with every word. None of this was going the way he had planned it in his head. He reached behind a bottle and flipped a lever that activated a contraption that pulled the cabinet door shut. Joel flinched. He reopened the cabinet, but Mumbo was nowhere to be seen. Joel couldn’t figure out how he’d left, either. Mumbo retreated to his house and stayed there for the rest of the day. Joel decided not to mention this encounter to Scar, but he did tell Grian about it. Grian laughed at Mumbo’s expense.
Joel visited Scar several days a week to help with various things around the house. Besides this, Scar didn’t really have all that much social interaction. It was hard for him to leave the house because of all the accessibility accommodations that had to be considered for any trip. There were a few routine places he went. Joel accompanied him on grocery trips, for example. He was the type of person to delay the checkout line because he was chatting with the cashier. At home, he found various activities to keep himself busy. He was a big fan of movies and he liked to play video games. Mumbo, when he first decided to move in below Scar, thought the wheelchair situation would prove to be very convenient for him. It meant there was a lot more of the house that wouldn’t be touched by humans, and therefore more space to play with. This turned out to not so much be the case, because of Joel.
Mumbo was an engineer. He liked to design various machines to make his life easier. While other borrowers might make do with a human item that was close enough to what they needed, Mumbo preferred to melt down metal and plastic and make exactly what he wanted. He had built a glider he used to get between higher surfaces without having to climb from the ground. And he built a piston device to help him get up to counter tops quickly. This device was a real pain. It was so finicky. Some nights it worked perfectly. Others, it was totally useless. Today, Mumbo was sitting on top of the kitchen cabinets behind a couple of decorative plants. He had several spots like this where he liked to tinker and watch Scar. Often, Scar wouldn’t even be doing anything interesting. He just found it easier to focus with him in the room. Scar was organizing his medicine at the time. Mumbo was trying to disassemble the device, planning to start from scratch with a new blueprint. His grip slipped and the device burst open with explosive force. The platform launched right into Mumbo’s gut and sent him backwards forcefully. He was flung off the cabinet top and right into the center of the kitchen, but unexpectedly stopped short of the floor. He sat stiff, frozen, staring wide eyed back at what stopped him. He has been caught on Scar’s extended hand. Had Scar not reacted so quickly, Mumbo would probably have been injured by the fall onto the tile floor. Scar was panting a little bit and had a very earnest worried expression on his face.
“Are you okay?” Mumbo didn’t say anything. Scar waited for a bit. He could see how scared Mumbo was, and he knew this wasn’t supposed to happen, so he gave him a minute to answer. But after a long pause, he still hadn’t said anything.
“Hello?? D-did you break something? Are you okay?? Say something!”
“Y-yeah….” Mumbo could only slowly squeeze out the one word. Scar sighed with relief. He set Mumbo down on the table in front of him. The two of them were locked in eye contact. Mumbo’s brain was racing. He was trying to think if there was any reasonable escape. He was a bit stranded on the table. He didn’t figure he could get away fast enough from here. He wasn’t even wearing any of his borrowing equipment.
“W-w-what are you going to do with me?”
“What? I’m not gonna do anything to you! What would I even do??”
“B-but… you found me. In your house. Borrowers aren’t supposed to be found. I- I can’t just go back like nothing happened…” Scar looked down and let out a heavy sigh. He rubbed his hand on the back of his neck.
“Listen,” He couldn’t make eye contact. “I kinda… already knew about you?”
Dumbfounded, Mumbo spat back, “...what?”
“I’ve known for a long time. Probably the whole time.”
Mumbo could not believe his ears, “And you never said anything!?”
Scar was becoming flustered, “W-well you seemed like you were trying really hard to be sneaky and I didn’t wanna ruin it for you!” Mumbo was mortified. This whole time. This whole time he had been a complete failure of a borrower and somehow managed to end up with a human who didn’t say anything because he didn’t want to hurt his feelings. He wondered how many times he had been seen. When he thought he was completely out of view atop shelves, was he actually exposed? Could Scar hear him running through the walls? Could Scar hear him working on his machines?
“I’m really sorry,” Scar continued, “You clearly didn’t want to be seen so I did my best not to bother you. A-and that doesn’t have to change now. You’ve never been a bother or anything. You’re totally free to keep doing your thing. I promise I’ll leave you totally alone.”
Mumbo was looking down at his shoes, still trying to process the lie of the last several years of his life. Without looking up, he said, “I can’t leave from here.”
Scar looked at the height of the table. “Oh, right. Uhm. I can’t reach the spot you were in, but I can put you over by the toaster. There’s a hole there, right? Will that work?” Mumbo clenched his fists. Scar even knew about one of his entrances.
“That’s fine.” Scar offered his hand, and Mumbo reluctantly climbed onto it. Scar carefully rolled over to the toaster and placed his hand down next to it. Mumbo leapt off and left without another word.
The following weeks in that house were very awkward for the both of them. Anytime Scar saw Mumbo, he wasn’t sure if he still needed to uphold the habit of pretending he hadn’t seen anything. This caused a delay in his reactions, which made it more clear to Mumbo when he was seen, and just how often it happened. One day, Scar was pawing at a cabinet shelf for some formula. He had forgotten to ask Joel to move them forward while he was there. The rest were all closer to the back of the cabinet and he couldn’t quite reach them, or even see them from his chair. Mumbo happened to be working on something on top of the cabinets at the time. He was sitting right up against the wall, further back than normal, to better avoid being seen. He could hear Scar struggling. He sighed, set his device down, got up, and made his way to the cabinet entrance. Sure enough, the entrance was almost totally blocked by formula cartons almost as tall as him. He leaned against one and pushed it forward until Scar could reach.
“Oh, thank you!” Scar was surprised to see Mumbo intentionally interacting with him, even if in a hidden capacity. Mumbo didn’t reply. He was walking back toward the back of the cabinet to move another carton when Scar, still feeling blindly around, accidentally grabbed him. They both flinched and Scar yanked his hand back out of the cabinet.
“Sorry!” Scar shouted. Mumbo didn’t reply. Scar still needed a few more cartons of formula, but he went ahead and started pouring the first one into the bag before getting more. He tried to pour slowly. When he was sure he didn’t hear any more rustling in the cabinet, he reached back up and got the rest of what he needed.
Another week went by with the two trying to avoid acknowledging each other, tension growing. Mumbo was on a credenza in the hall, standing behind a vase. He tripped and stumbled backwards into it, knocking it over. He and the vase both tumbled onto the floor. The vase had landed upside-down on top of him. He tried to lift it, but it was too heavy. He tried to tip it, but the shape made it impossible to get any leverage. If he had some tools on him he could think of a few ways to get out of this. But he didn’t. Stumped, he tried to sit down to think. He couldn’t even do that, because the narrow neck of the vase prevented him from bending his knees very far. It crossed his mind that, as unfavorable as it was, he did have one option. And it was probably his best bet at the moment.
“Scaaar…” Mumbo called out weakly. Scar rolled into the hall.
“Mumbo? Was that you? Am I hearing things? Where are you?” Mumbo was apprehensive to answer. Scar began to roll down the hall when he noticed the vase and its contents, some plastic reeds, scattered on the floor. “Ah,” He said to himself. He rolled beside the vase and gently tipped it up. As soon as there was a gap big enough to squeeze out, Mumbo made a break for it. He ran away desperately, looking behind him to make sure he wasn’t being pursued. In his haste and carelessness he ran right into the reeds and got tangled in their leaves. After several seconds of struggling while Scar watched patiently, Mumbo freed himself and kept running, this time watching where he was going.
The next day Scar was sitting at his computer, reading, when he heard Mumbo’s voice come from behind him.
“Scar?” Scar turned and looked around the room until he spotted Mumbo sitting atop a floating shelf. Specifically one that was too high for Scar to reach.
“Yesterday, when you helped me, you said my name, didn’t you?” Mumbo asked.
Scar was confused. “Did I? I can’t remember exactly what I said, why?”
Mumbo pressed, “When we first spoke, we didn’t tell each other our names, did we?”
Scar was starting to catch on. “That doesn’t sound right. I’m sure you introduced yourself!”
“I already knew your name because I hear you and Joel speaking all the time. But I’m sure I never told you my name.”
“I think you’re misremembering…” The both of them were starting to get flustered.
“Scar, I was just curious. It’s worse that you’re obviously trying to hide something. How did you know my name?”
“W-what was your name again anyway? I can’t seem to recall…”
“Come on, I’ve broken my rule to come out and ask you this.” Mumbo insisted. Scar sighed. Mumbo was right. As much as he hated disappointing Mumbo, he deserved a straight answer.
“Sometimes… when Grian comes over, I can hear you two talking. Not entire conversations or anything! It’s muffled. But enough to pick up your name.”
Mumbo dropped his face into his hand. “And Grian’s.”
“Yeah.”
Mumbo let out a heavy sigh. “Okay. Thanks.” He turned around and slipped back out of sight. Scar felt bad about revealing another harsh truth to Mumbo, but he was also a little excited. This was the second conversation he had ever had with Mumbo, and Mumbo was the one who initiated it! As much as he didn’t want to bother Mumbo, he had always wished they would become friends one day.
A few days later, Scar was at his computer again when Mumbo made his boldest move yet. He glided down towards Scar and landed on a push handle behind his head. Scar jumped when he sensed the presence. He was only able to turn his head far enough to see Mumbo out the side of one eye.
“Well, hello there!” Scar said, bewildered. “You’re awfully close all of a sudden!”
“It’s fine.” Mumbo said, “I know exactly what I’m doing. I know my reflexes are faster than your reach. I can get away from here faster than you can try anything.” He had planned it out in his head. If Scar tried to reach for him, he would hop off the back and glide straight for a mouse hole across the room. He was confident he was in no danger at all. Scar raised an eyebrow.
“Oh, really?” He found Mumbo’s overconfidence cute, and was instinctively motivated to undermine it. “Well, what if someone came from BEHIND YOU!!” Scar shouted quickly, gesturing to behind Mumbo, who flinched and looked where Scar gestured. With his guard down, Scar reached up and grabbed Mumbo off the handle. He yelped. Scar only held him for a second and set him right back down, laughing all the while.
“I’m sorry, I had to!” He chuckled. Mumbo stumbled to regain his balance, then pushed off the handle towards the mouse hole. Scar’s expression dropped. Mumbo’s glider failed to catch air properly and he hit the ground, landing very short of his goal. Scar’s expression changed to fear and he started to turn his chair around.
“Are you okay!?” He called out. Mumbo didn’t reply. He was desperately skittering across the floor, trying to scrape his way out of sight as soon as possible. Scar tried to stop him, but couldn’t catch up before he disappeared behind the drywall. Scar sank. He laid a longing hand against the wall and pounded his forehead against it a couple of times.
“Stupid.”
He should have known better. Mumbo was finally gaining enough confidence to try getting close to him and the first thing he did was take advantage of him. Stupid.
Scar didn’t hear anything from Mumbo for a few days. Whenever Joel wasn’t around, he’d announce to the air how sorry he was. He’d write little apology notes and leave them by Mumbo’s access holes. He wrote about how bad he felt and why what he did was wrong. How he promised not to let it happen again. And about how much he’d like to see Mumbo again. Any time he went to check, the notes were untouched. And any time he called out, there was no response. After several days of no trace, Scar called out saying that he was starting to get really worried that something had happened to Mumbo. He asked that Mumbo would please just give him a sign that he was okay. The truth was Mumbo had heard every plea and read every message. Unfortunately, no matter what Scar said, what happened reinforced what Mumbo had always been taught. No matter how nice they seem, humans are dangerous, and they’re not to be trusted. Mumbo was inside the office wall. He still found it easier to work near Scar, but he couldn’t risk being close enough to be heard or seen. Mumbo sighed. He stepped toward the entrance to a shelf, carefully looking out to make sure he wouldn’t be seen. If anything, this whole situation had done a lot to improve his borrowing skills. He reached his arm out toward a thin book on the shelf and nudged it until it fell off. Scar whipped his head around to see the source of the noise. He had hoped to find Mumbo, but just a sign that he wasn’t dead was still a whole lot better than nothing.
That night, Mumbo went to visit Grian. Grian’s condition had improved a lot over the past few weeks. He was slow, but he could walk now. He still spent most of his time on that living room end table. Mumbo waited until Scar, Lizzie, and Joel had all gone to sleep and made his way over. After some hellos and small talk, Mumbo explained to Grian what had happened. He told Grian about how it reinforced what they had always been taught.
“I had to learn it first hand. No matter how nice they seem, humans are dangerous, and they’re not to be trusted.”
“Well, that’s a load of rubbish.” Grian scoffed. Mumbo was taken aback.
“How can you say that after what I just told you?” Mumbo sputtered.
“Oh, come on. You say that like something terrible happened. You got grabbed. For a second. As a joke. Are you even hurt or anything?”
“W-well, n-no.” Mumbo was indignant, but he wondered if Grian had a point.
“Then I don’t see what the big deal is. Take it from someone who’s been at the mercy of humans for weeks against his will. Yeah, they’re big and scary, but they mean really well. If Joel or Lizzie actually hurt me I’m pretty sure they’d implode. One time Lizzie accidentally poked my rib while redoing my bandages and it made me wince and she apologized like a HUNDRED times! I kept telling her I was fine! … My point being, I didn’t want to come here, but when I’m all better, I don’t plan on leaving.”
Mumbo was having a hard time trying to keep that nice idea from breaking through the hard shell he’d put up. It could be a fluke. Just because Grian trusted Joel and Lizzie didn’t automatically mean Mumbo should trust Scar. But looking at everything, it was getting harder to justify not trusting him.
The next day, Scar was at his computer again, playing a game. Mumbo was standing at the edge of the shelf entrance. This shelf was the last safe place he had spoken to Scar. The last place he had been where nothing went wrong. He took a deep breath and stepped out onto the shelf. He looked down at Scar’s monitor, trying to figure out what exactly he was looking at. He took a deep breath, and looked at Scar.
“Hey, Scar.” Mumbo practically mumbled. Scar quickly tapped the escape key and his eyes darted around the room until he found him.
“Mumbo! You’re back!” Scar tried to contain his excitement. He was elated and relieved, but he couldn’t scare Mumbo off again.
“Yeah. I just… needed some time to think. Uh.. whatcha doin there?” Scar turned to look at his game. It had been only moments, but he was so caught up in Mumbo’s return he had already forgotten.
“Oh, I was just playing Minecraft. Do you… know what computer games are?”
“Sort of. I mean, I’ve seen you do this from a distance, but I don’t really get what it is.” Scar explained to him the gist of how video games work and told him about how Minecraft is a sandbox game where you can do all sorts of different things depending on your play style. Building stunning buildings, farming hours away, fighting enemies, or even building complex machines. The machines part really piqued Mumbo’s interest. They set off into a more relaxed, naturally flowing conversation. They both felt like they were finally, for the first time, having a good interaction. Until Scar started to struggle to get his words out. Within minutes, he started to cough and choke so frequently he couldn’t finish a sentence.
“Mate, are you alright?” Mumbo worried. Scar couldn’t answer, and his face was turning pale. Mumbo was panicking. “Scar!? What’s happening? What should I do??”” Scar tried to pick up his phone, but his hands were shaking. Without stopping to think if it was safe, Mumbo jumped off the shelf and glided to Scar’s desk. He pressed the button on the side of the phone and saw it needed to be unlocked. He had seen Scar do this before with his thumb print. He looked back at Scar. Scar was fading. Mumbo reached for his hand, which was still on the desk, and pulled his thumb over to unlock the phone. He opened the phone app and tapped the first name he recognized: Joel. When he heard Joel pick up he didn’t even wait for him to get out a hello.
“JOEL SCAR’S NOT BREATHING I THINK HE PASSED OUT WHAT DO I DO I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO PLEASE”
“I’m on my way.” Joel hung up the phone and showed up within the minute. When he came inside he was already on the phone with the emergency services operator. Mumbo stood back and watched him as he explained the situation and checked on Scar’s condition, seeing if there was anything he could do before the ambulance arrived. Mumbo’s own heart was pounding so loud it practically drowned out the hasty noise of the room.
“Yes. Yes I’ll stay on the line. One second.” Joel turned to Mumbo. “You did the right thing calling me. The paramedics are on their way, you should go hide.”
“B-but, i-is Scar g-going to-”
“Seriously, they’ll be here any minute! Go!” Mumbo hurried off behind the desk and found a nearby hole to scurry off into. He positioned himself at an opening near the ground where he was sure he wouldn’t be spotted. He was terrified to the core, and he had to see what was going to happen. The paramedics came pouring in. Faster than Mumbo could even process, they had Scar loaded into the back of the ambulance and were on their way. Joel followed directly behind with Scar’s wheelchair and some essentials. Before Mumbo could even get a grip on the situation, he was sitting alone in a vast empty house, and it had never felt so soul crushingly lonely.
A while later, Lizzie came home from work. She asked Grian where Joel was and he told her he had stepped out a few hours ago because of a phone call and never came back. Lizzie called Joel and, after apologizing for not calling sooner, he explained what happened and that he was at the hospital with Scar. Scar was stable, but he wasn’t going to be ready to be discharged for a good while. Lizzie asked him to come home but he insisted on staying in case anything changed with Scar.
“It’s getting late. If it’s this serious his family should come stay with him.” Lizzie reasoned.
“He hasn’t got any family close by and he doesn’t deserve to be alone. I think I’m gonna end up spending the night here.”
“Joel, no! Then you’ll just be leaving me alone!”
Joel smirked. “Don’t you think you can share me for just one night?” Lizzie rubbed her brow.
Lizzie realized something, “Wait, you said Grian’s friend Mumbo was the one who called you? Where’s he now?”
“He’s still at the house. Where else would he be?” Joel said.
“He’s not with you?” Lizzie asked.
“What? No! Why would I have taken him with me?”
“Because he’s obviously worried about Scar? Tell me you at least have a way to contact him and he hasn’t just been in the dark since you left!” Lizzie pleaded.
“That was not the most pressing thing on my mind at the time, Lizzie.”
Lizzie sighed. “Fine, then. It’s decided. You watch after Scar, and we’ll watch after Mumbo. I’ll see you in the morning. I love you.”
“Love you.”
Lizzie sat down next to Grian and asked him how much of that he caught. He said he caught the gist of it and asked what she had in mind for Mumbo. She said she wasn’t sure yet. She was going to play it by ear. She said she’d probably need some help, if he was up for it. She offered her hand and he climbed on. She hadn’t taken her coat or shoes off yet, so she headed right out the door. She held Grian close to her as she walked, keeping him inconspicuously tucked partially behind her coat in case there were any passersby. She walked up to Scar’s door and tried the knob. She shook her head. Joel had carelessly left it unlocked. She gingerly stepped inside and shut the door behind her. She softly called out for Mumbo. No response. Grian pointed out the credenza and asked her to bring him there. She set him down and he swung open the door there made to look like an outlet cover and stepped inside. Grian hadn’t traversed a wall corridor in a while and he forgot how treacherous some of them can be. They’re spaces for passage only, not meant to be stayed in. They can be a bit difficult to traverse. Grian thought he’d at least check Mumbo’s house. This was the closest entrance to it. He carefully climbed down the staircase and looked around the rooms. No Mumbo to be found. He climbed back up and reported back to Lizzie. He suggested they try checking out some of Mumbo’s other favorite spots. He admitted he didn’t know all of Mumbo’s entrances, but hopefully he knew enough of the important ones. Lizzie tip-toed down the hall while Grian called out for Mumbo. After a couple of calls they heard a weak reply coming from the office.
“Grian?”
Lizzie stepped up to the edge of the doorway and knelt down to let Grian go in on his own. Grian limped over to Mumbo, who saw Grian and stepped out of his hole to meet him halfway.
“How in the world did you get here all by yourself? And what are you doing out in the open, those doctors could be back at any minute!” Mumbo asked.
“It’s okay, Mumbo, no one is coming!” Grian reassured him.
“Don’t say that! You don’t know that!” Mumbo snapped back. Grian realized how what he said sounded.
“Mumbo, Lizzie brought me here to tell you that Scar is going to be okay. He’s in the hospital. He’s breathing.” Mumbo stepped back and let out the biggest sigh he had ever sighed.
Grian continued, “Joel told Lizzie more about his condition. I just kind of overheard the gist. Joel is gonna stay with him until he’s well enough to come home.”
“He’s not coming home yet? Why?”
“Like I said, Lizzie knows more than I do.”
“Well then go ask Lizzie already!” Mumbo pleaded.
“Why don’t you go ask her yourself? She’s just waiting out in the hall.” Grian offered.
“Grian. So far, every time I’ve spoken to a human something terribly wrong has happened.” Mumbo moped. Grian put his hand on Mumbo’s back, pressing him in the direction of the door.
“No, every time you’ve spoken to Scar! You’ve never spoken to Lizzie before! I’ve spoken to her lots of times and nothing bad has ever happened. You should give it a whirl!” Grian was admittedly growing impatient about Mumbo’s apprehension towards humans. He strained his injured muscles a little giving Mumbo a shove that sent him a few more steps towards the door. Lizzie piped up from the hall.
“You don’t actually have to come out here right now, if that makes it easier.” Grian was a little annoyed. She was kind of undermining him. Mumbo was slightly alarmed. He hadn’t realized how close she was. But, if anything, knowing how far he had come without realizing only gave him the confidence to close the gap. He started forward. The moment she came into view and he perceived her stature he did an instant 180 back into the office.
“What was that?” Complained Grian. It was the realization that for the handful of times Mumbo had spoken to humans in the past, it had been at eye level or higher. He was not prepared to address a human from the ground.
“Just. Wait here. I’ll be right back.” Mumbo said before heading back into the wall. A minute later he reappeared on his floating shelf. It was far out of reach for Scar, but just noticeably above eye level for Lizzie. He invited her into the room.
“Oh, there you are! It’s nice to finally meet you!” Lizzie beamed.
“Why isn’t Scar coming home?” Mumbo asked.
“Right. That. So I didn’t get a lot of details from Joel, and I don’t understand a lot of this medical mumbo jumbo anyw- haha hey, Mumbo Jumbo!”
Grian glared, “Lizzie, come on.”
“Right right yeah, sorry. From what I understand, Scar’s condition is stable. Meaning he’s not completely better, he’s still relying on a lot of medical equipment, but he’s not getting any worse or dying or anything like that. I forget what Joel said the thing was called, but I think it boiled down to him getting over excited at the same time that his heart was doing something funky. That sounds even less informative now that I say it all out loud, but that’s about everything I was able to gather. Sorry.”
“Thank you.” Mumbo said. He tried to think of something more to say, but all he mustered was a second, “Thank you.” Lizzie knelt down and picked Grian up off the floor.
“Mumbo, come stay with us tonight.” Grian offered. “You shouldn’t be alone on a night like this. I insist.” Mumbo tried to think of a reason to say no, but couldn’t come up with one. He couldn’t come up with much at all. He was distracted still thinking about what he did to Scar.
“Okay.”
“Oh, really? I expected that to take some convincing. Okay, great! Uh, would you prefer to come over yourself the usual way, or I’m sure Lizzie wouldn’t mind carrying you. It’d be much faster. You probably don’t want to do that though, huh?”
“I don’t mind at all!” Lizzie added. Mumbo closed his eyes.
“Yeah, I probably ought to go with you.” Mumbo admitted.
“Wait, really?” Grian said.
“You clearly want me to get more comfortable with humans. And I trust you. So yeah. I’ll do it.” Mumbo was pretty certain that if there wasn’t an active crisis taking up all his brainspace, he’d have the wherewithal to deny Grian. Lizzie held her hand up against the edge of the shelf. Mumbo first looked at Grian, as if to take note of how to do it, and then carefully climbed onto her hand. Lizzie made her way slowly and carefully to the front door and then stopped.
“I didn’t think this through. I don’t have a free hand to open this door or a key to lock it.” Lizzie admitted. Grian looked at Mumbo, who was usually the problem solver, but he just looked defeated.
“Mumbo,” Grian asked, “are you able to lock this door yourself from the inside?” Mumbo looked up at the mechanism to evaluate it and compared its height to the ground.
“Yeah, I think so.”
“I really appreciate your efforts, Mumbo. But I think the best solution here is for you to lock the door behind us and just meet us there.” Mumbo accepted and Lizzie set him on the doorknob before stepping out and shutting the door behind her. Mumbo turned the lock and glided down to find a way into the wall and make his way next door. A few minutes later he squirmed out from behind the TV and glided over to Grian, who was already settled into his usual spot. Lizzie came into the room and greeted Mumbo with some accommodations for him. She got some extra hand towels so he could set up a little bed as well. Grian and Lizzie made it their goal to get Mumbo’s mind off Scar for the night, since worrying about him wasn’t helping anyone. They chatted about all sorts of things, getting to know each other. Grian was relieved that Mumbo got on pretty well with Lizzie. He was visibly nervous the whole time and flinched every time she moved very much, but he was trying his best. Grian figured it was just a matter of time before Mumbo adjusted and got as comfortable as he had. After a bit, Grian said he needed to use the toilet. Lizzie scooped him up and brought him to the bathroom floor. He ducked under the sink cabinet and disappeared into it. He had a restroom in the wall back there piggybacking off the plumbing of the humans’ one. While waiting, Lizzie walked back near the end table to keep chatting with Mumbo. He cowered as she towered over him. She chuckled, which made Mumbo feel worse. She thought about how different he was to Grian. She figured when she first met Grian, he must have been scared for his life, but he didn’t express it so pathetically.
“What are you so afraid of?” She asked. Mumbo wasn’t sure how to answer. She scooped him up in her palm and brought him to eye level. Mumbo hated the feeling of her hand supporting him. He felt incredibly awkward and terrified.
“I’m not going to hurt you, little guy.” She failed to hide a smirk. She thought she’d tease him, just a little, and maybe the rapport would ease tensions. “It’s fair enough, you know. I could totally do anything I wanted, and Grian’s not even here to help. I wonder, what exactly is it you’re scared I’m going to do?”
“LIZZIE!” Grian’s voice shattered the growing suspense in the room. “What are you doing!?” Lizzie whipped around to see Grian standing in the bathroom doorway with a stern expression on his face.
“Grian! You missed the context! It was just a joke!” Lizzie explained in a panic. Grian wasn’t having it. He could see the look on Mumbo’s face.
“Not funny. Put him down. Now.” Lizzie hastily set Mumbo back down and then helped Grian back onto the table before taking a seat herself.
Grian worriedly asked Mumbo, “I’m so sorry about that. Are you alright?” Mumbo was very not alright. A lot had happened today and he was having a hard enough time as it was without Lizzie intentionally messing with him. Even so, he could recognize that Lizzie’s joke, despite being in poor taste, was just meant to be a joke. And he could clearly see from her expression that she was embarrassed.
“I-it’s fine. I’m fine.” Mumbo lied. He brushed Grian aside and stepped closer to Lizzie. “The truth is, I really do want to get more comfortable with this. I want to be able to talk to Scar without it sending my heart racing. But it’s still new to me and every time I look up at you or see a hand coming at me, my reflexes kick in and I go into panic mode. If anything, this is like, exposure therapy, or something. I think it’s good for me.”
“Yeah, gonna expose you to a heart attack.” quipped Grian.
“Hey, you didn’t stutter at all during that.” Lizzie pointed out.
“I-I didn’t?” Mumbo hadn’t even noticed. “Ha ha! I guess the exposure therapy really is working!”
Grian interjected, “That’s great and all, but I am genuinely worried about you getting overwhelmed, Mumbo. Lizzie, hanging out like this is fine, but you have to remember the rules.”
“The rules?” Mumbo asked.
“When I started to get well enough to walk again, Lizzie started letting herself get a little… grabby. We had to set up some boundaries. Mainly she’s not allowed to pick me up without asking.” Grian turned to Lizzie, “Those same rules apply to Mumbo, too, okay?”
“Yeah, that’s reasonable. I’m sorry, Mumbo. We’re still good, right?” Lizzie held out a finger toward Mumbo. He stepped back and just looked at it, holding his hands up defensively.
“It’s supposed to be a handshake.” Lizzie clarified. Mumbo took a deep breath and slowly reached forward to shake her finger.
“Yeah.” He said, “We’re good.”
Shortly afterward Lizzie retired to bed. Grian told Mumbo that if he was willing to help him through the corridors, they could stay in his house that night. There were a couple of actual beds there, where it would be more comfortable. Mumbo agreed. Grian was excited, because it had been weeks since he had been able to sleep in a real bed. The two carefully navigated to Grian’s house. Grian almost seemed to have magically healed faster, the way he was moving about the place. He was just so excited to be back in the comfort of his own home again. He got out clean linens and prepared the guest room for Mumbo without much trouble. Soon, the two were off to sleep. This was the best sleep Grian had gotten in weeks. It was not so much the case for Mumbo.
Mumbo dreamt that he was back in Scar’s house, standing in the middle of the hallway. Scar rolled into the hallway and turned to face Mumbo.
“There you are.” said dream Scar in a haunting distorted voice. He started towards Mumbo, who made a beeline for the nearest hole in the wall. No matter how fast he ran, he didn’t seem to be getting any closer, and Scar was steadily gaining. Mumbo was stopped in his tracks by Scar’s fingers closing tightly around him and raising him up off the ground. Mumbo writhed and wriggled until he could get his arms free. He tried to rip the massive fingers off himself, but they wouldn’t budge. Dream Scar reached for Mumbo’s face with his other hand, grabbing him by the cheeks and positioning his head forcefully. Dream Scar’s grip on Mumbo's face tightened and tightened until, suddenly, Mumbo woke up.
Panting and sweating, he bolted upright. He looked over at the watch mounted to the wall. A quarter after three. Still catching his breath, he laid back down. He held his hand out in front of himself and looked at it. There was something about hands. He tilted his hand away and remembered shaking Lizzie’s hand. Well, shaking her finger. The whole night had a theme of ignoring how scared he was. He had hoped if he kept pushing past it, eventually, it wouldn’t be scary anymore. He closed his eyes and tried to go back to sleep.
A few hours later, a loud crash woke Mumbo suddenly. He jumped out of bed and ran out of the room to investigate. He ran into the kitchen and saw Grian standing there clutching a couple of pans, with about five more still settling on the floor.
“Are you alright?” Mumbo asked.
“Sorry! I didn’t mean to wake you. I was trying to be quiet but I dropped some pans.” Grian explained.
Mumbo sighed and went to help Grian clean up. Grian was scrounging around for something to make for breakfast. It had been a while since he had cooked and he was still excited about being back in the comfort and amenities of his own home. Mumbo insisted Grian sit and let him do the work. They chatted as Mumbo started picking through Grian’s pantry, tossing out things that had gone bad while he was away. Then, they heard a muffled voice shout from above.
“Grian! Where are you? Can you hear me?” Lizzie called from the living room. Mumbo and Grian looked at each other.
“Yeah?” Grian called back. It felt a bit wrong to be so loud in his house. They heard a shuffling. The ceiling creaked and a little dust spilled down. Lizzie’s voice was closer now.
“I’m headed out for groceries. Did you want me to get you anything?” She asked. Grian thought for a moment.
“A pretzel?” He asked.
“Pretzels. Got it. I’ll be back in a bit!” She headed off. Grian and Mumbo chuckled about the strangeness of the interaction and got back to chatting. Mumbo managed to scrape together enough food to have a bit of a disappointing breakfast. Grian was still pleased at the familiarity of the taste. He liked human food, but it was a pretty different flavor palate from what he was used to. They cleaned up and got dressed, then ventured back upstairs to meet Lizzie when she came back home. They slowly made their way through the corridors. As they neared the kitchen, they heard Lizzie come inside. Good timing. Mumbo pulled back the kitchen tile and crawled through, then helped Grian through behind him. As they walked out from behind the sugar jar, Lizzie had just finished putting the food away and was going to stow her shopping bags. She turned around and jumped at the unexpected sight of Grian and Mumbo standing there to greet her. She popped open the bag of pretzels she had just bought and handed one to Grian. He snapped it in half and offered the other half to Mumbo. Lizzie put the bag away and told Mumbo that Joel called her while she was at the shop. She told him that Joel said Scar would be coming home sometime today. She clarified that he didn’t have to go right away, and if he wanted to he was welcome to stay with them until Scar arrived so he wouldn’t have to be alone.
“No,” Mumbo said with haste, “I want to be there when he gets back. Thank you so much for everything, really. I have to go.” He set his pretzel half down and scurried back into the wall without paying much attention to Grian and Lizzie bidding him goodbye. He had been kept in suspense for so long. He couldn’t bear it. He had to see Scar as soon as he possibly could. He got back home and climbed onto that credenza in the hall by the front door. Time passed painfully slowly. And yet Mumbo spent two more hours sitting still as a rock, eyes locked on that door. Mind spinning.
Finally, he heard the sound of car doors on the street outside, and familiar voices. Sure enough, the door opened and Joel pushed Scar inside. Scar looked the way he usually did after longer hospital visits. He still had the hospital wristband on. He looked noticeably tired from the stress, but, most importantly, healthier. As the door shut, Mumbo stood up and shouted.
“Scar!”
Scar and Joel both looked at Mumbo and froze. Neither of them knew what to do. Scar wondered if Mumbo had somehow not seen Joel standing behind him. He awkwardly tried to discreetly point Joel out. Joel wondered if Mumbo had finally gotten up the confidence to introduce himself to Scar, or if he had just gone insane.
Joel tried to play along, “OH MY DAYS, IT’S A TINY MAN!”
“He knows. You both know.” Mumbo clarified. Scar and Joel looked at each other. This only raised more questions for the two of them. The most present one for both being ‘since when?’
Mumbo continued, “Scar, I’m so sorry. I-I didn’t mean for this to happen. I didn’t know-”
Scar cut him off, “What are you talking about? What did you do?” Mumbo looked at him with the biggest, saddest eyes.
“They told me your heart got sick because you were over excited. I-It happened when I came to speak to you…” Mumbo explained. Scar finally put it together.
“You think this was your fault?”
“Isn’t it?” Mumbo sniffled. Scar rolled a little closer, being careful to maintain a certain distance.
“No, Mumbo. You’re not the reason I got sick. I promise. In fact, if you weren’t there to call for help, I probably wouldn’t be here right now. You saved my life.” Scar reassured him. Mumbo stared at his shoes, processing. He looked back up at Scar.
“Really?”
“Definitely.” There was another pause before Mumbo accepted this truth.
“Can I see your hand?” Mumbo asked without making eye contact. Scar held up his right hand.
“This hand?” He asked.
“Doesn’t matter.” Scar rolled closer to the table. Mumbo stepped back to make room and Scar laid his hand down in front of him. Mumbo put his hands around the tip of Scar’s index finger. He had been overwhelmed by emotion since yesterday. He realized that he wasn’t fully sure what he was doing. Maybe this was like a hug? Whatever it was, he just knew he needed it.
“I’m really glad you’re okay.” Mumbo said. Scar smiled.
#borrowers#bans art#grian#mumbo jumbo#goodtimeswithscar#ldshadowlady#smallishbeans#Stuck Here A Little While
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(Not such a) Bad Idea
Larissa Weems X reader-
Songfic based on bad idea by girl in red, loosely. Reader is a final year university student and often frequents the Weathervane for their impeccable coffee (it’s just for the free Wi-Fi). Larissa is the principal of Nevermore academy and often frequents the Weathervane for their impeccable coffee (it’s just for the peace and quiet).
Or
Two dumb gays in love and Marilyn meddles.
Huge thank you to @h-doodles who majorly helped me with the plotline with this one. Honestly cannot thank you enough, I hope it meets your expectations :) <3
-
It was a typical Thursday Morning for you, early enough for the Weathervane to be open, which meant you could claim a booth and work on your thesis statement. Typically, the weathervane was a quite café but for some reason, today it was packed and there was no seating available elsewhere.
Just as you had frequented the café, there was also an extremely tall lady, with ocean blue eyes and always wearing pristine clothing. You would often catch her eyes and she would smile at you, which would make you feel like you were going to faint. God, to see that smile in the morning would give you enough motivation to get through the day, and you would yearn for it long after she was gone.
Almost as if your thoughts had summoned her, in she stepped, noticing how busy it was and she approached the counter, giving her order. Her order is placed in front of her, and you notice her eyes wander around the café and eventually her eyes lock with yours.
You do your best to hide the fact you were staring by turning your focus onto your laptop, a flush growing on your cheeks.
“Hello.” You hear a British accent say and you look up, almost fainting because the woman who you had just been staring at has approached you. Oh my god, she’s British. “Is there any chance I could share a booth with you? Its quite busy in here today.”
“Oh- Yeah, of course, I don’t mind!” You say, probably too enthaustically, but she doesn’t comment and instead you decide to offer up your name “I’m Y/N.” You smile.
The woman smiles wider at you, “Larissa.” She returns, and you feel your face flush. Oh my god, even her name is ethereal. You grin as you turn back and begin to type away.
Moment’s pass, before your eyes raise to see Larissa watching you curiously, and you feel yourself blushing. Larissa takes a sip of her drink before nodding her head to your laptop.
“What are you working on?” Larissa enquires, as her eyes crinkle with her smile. You nearly stop breathing at the realization that she’s speaking to you.
“Me? Oh, uhm, nothing interesting, just my thesis statement for Uni.” You smile and Larissa rolls her eyes lightly with a smirk.
“Of course, it’s not interesting, otherwise you wouldn’t be staring at me every time I come in.” Larissa teases and you feel your ears grow hot, and your eyes grow wide in shock.
“Oh, sorry! I mean no offence!” You say urgently, realizing you’re probably embarrassing yourself even. You try to focus back on your laptop, hoping the floor will swallow you up. Larissa lightly pushes your laptop so its half closed.
“Oh, believe me, it’s quite the compliment actually.” She states with a smile before chuckling. “Gosh, its going to sound rather silly but sometimes, I hope to see you staring to figure out if I’ve made the right outfit choice.”
You’re certain if you blush anymore, you will faint. “Oh, I bet you’d still look good in a trash bag.” You manage to say before you can stop yourself and Larissa chuckles, and you smile yourself.
“Well, Y/N, thank you for that wonderful insight. I’m sure my wardrobe will thank you.” Larissa smiles before checking her watch. “I suppose it’s time for me to leave. Goodluck with your thesis, Y/N.”
Larissa stands to leave and begins to turn away and looks at you again, “You’ll be here tomorrow?” She asks and all you can do is nod.
-
Friday morning couldn’t have come quicker for you, and you excitedly sit down in your booth, jittering with excitement as you see Larissa enter. You lock eyes with her, and she smiles at you from across the café. You open your laptop and at least try to pretend that you are focused on something other than her.
Larissa grabs her order and sits opposite you in your booth, and you smile at each other.
“Morning.” You smile, looking up from your laptop and Larissa is wearing a sage green dress with a golden chain necklace, complete with a golden watch and you swear you can faint. “I suppose you didn’t feel like wearing a trash bag today, huh?” You joke, your face flushing.
Larissa chuckles lightly and she has you enchanted by the sound. She takes a sip from a drink as she raises her brow at you.
“Oh please, you’re too nice to me.” Larissa states and you take a sip of your own coffee before you close your laptop. Larissa looks at you questioningly, “Off for the day?”
“Oh, no. I’m gonna be here for a while but there’s no point in pretending anything else has my attention when you’re sitting in front of me.” You grin, you have no idea where the confidence has come from, but you decide that since Larissa has decided to sit with you for a second time, it’s the confidence you need.
Larissa chuckles again and smirks at you again. “Careful, you might convince me to never leave.”
You grin at her cheekily, you’re sure your cheeks are flushed but you decide to ignore and begin to speak, “you say that as if it’s a bad thing. Perhaps I don’t want you to.” You say, and Larissa smiles before taking another sip.
“You never told me what your thesis was on.” She states and shuffles somewhat close to you, and you look down at your laptop before looking back up at her.
“Like I said yesterday, nothing too interesting. But I’m currently writing about Rene Descartes influence on modern philosophy, seeing as some consider him the father of modern philosophy.” You say and roll your eyes.
“Ah, and this does not interest you?” Larissa questions, her hands finding themselves onto the table.
“It’s not so much that it doesn't interest me, but I am not too keen on modern philosophies, I know, I know, they paved the way for society today, especially with the way he connected geometry and Algebra, but I suppose at heart, I’m more of an ancient Greek gal.” You say with a light grin, and Larissa looks intently at you, a light smile on her lips. “Sorry, I’m boring you.” You say, and Larissa’s hand reaches out to touch your arm.
“No, I find it quite refreshing how passionate you are.” Larissa states and her hand doesn’t move from your arm, you grin up at her.
“Soo, what about you? What do you do?” You ask and Larissa smiles a tight smile before looking up at you.
“I’m the principal of Nevermore academy.” She says proudly and she watches as your eyebrows furrow together, and she removes her hand from your arm, anticipating some sort of backlash.
“Nevermore? I don’t think I’ve—Oh! Nevermore, the academy for outcasts? Wait, sorry, is outcast the right word? I dunno if I got that right, erm but yeah, I’m sorry if that’s offensive! But also, principal? That’s awesome!” You say, and watch as Larissa breathes a sigh of relief, and you eye her curiously.
“Yes, outcast is the correct term. Although, some would not consider it ‘awesome’, but I suppose that’s their problem.” Larissa states and you look at her.
“Some people just like hating people.” You state, “Like how some people hate me cause I’m gay, but I think that sort of hate just makes you more accepting. But you being the principal of Nevermore academy is awesome.” You smile comfortingly, as you place your hand hesitantly onto Larissa’s.
Larissa checks her watch and frowns before looking at you. “I’m sorry, darling but its time for me to go back to the academy.” Larissa says before standing, “May I see your phone?” She asks and you nod, handing her your unlocked phone, she types in something before handing it back to you with a smile.
“You have my number now, message me if you get bored with your thesis. I hope I can help with the boredom.” Larissa smiles, hesitating slightly before placing a kiss on your cheek. She then begins to leave, looking over her shoulder before waving with a smile.
Okay, so she called you darling, and then kissed your cheek, and THEN gave you, her number. You can die happily now.
-
You submit your thesis statement draft Friday evening and take out your phone to find the contact Larissa saved. You click onto it and begin to type out a message.
‘I submitted my thesis draft.’ You type and send almost immediately, excited to finally have a reason to message Larissa.
You see the read icon almost immediately and then the typing icon. You stay on the chat and watch intently as the typing icon appears and disappears three times before the message comes through.
‘Does this mean I won’t see your beautiful face in the morning now?’ Is the response and you squeal, squeal. Squeal at the response. You begin to type out your response.
‘No, luckily for you, and unluckily for me, it was only the draft, I still have to submit the real thing ☹’ You type back ‘Plenty of boredom on my part still, and many mornings left in the weathervane.’
‘I suppose you’re not too busy to attend the Harvest festival with me next weekend?’ Is what Larissa says and you swear you feel as if you can faint, this woman is too much and you love it.
‘only if you promise I can win you a prize.’ You respond and there is a grin on your face.
-
The weekend and week pass quite quickly and eventually the day of the harvest festival arrives. You and Larissa had been in the Weathervane nearly every single morning, except for Sunday, because you decided to take the day to have a break, due to Larissa’s encouragement.
You are dressed already, after much changing and tweaking but you decided on your final outfit change that it would have to do otherwise you would drive yourself crazy.
You pull out your phone and begin to type out a message to Larissa ‘hey, did you want to meet out front?’
You place your shoes on and feel your phone vibrate in your pocket. You look to see Larissa has messaged ‘Nonsense, I’m outside yours, we can walk there together.’
Your stomach does butterflies as you almost sprint to your front door and open it and see Larissa standing there holding two cups of coffee. You shut your door as you look up at her and nearly choke on your own breath.
She’s wearing a light green dress that cuts off just off above her knee, hugging her in all the right places, and a matching jacket, her hair pinned up in its usual pristine style.
“Hi.” You say, nervously shuffling on your feet and Larissa smiles lightly before stepping closer and handing you your coffee before kissing you on your cheek.
“Hi, sweetheart.” She smiles, as she pulls back. Your cheeks feel hot, and you look up at her through your eyelashes. “You look absolutely divine.”
“Me?” You manage to say, before looking down at your feet, “What about you?” You ask.
Larissa’s hand cups underneath your chin, as she brings your eyes up to meet hers, a smirk playing on her lips “Where’s the shyness come from, darling? Did I make the right outfit choice?”
“You look like a goddess.” You say, and Larissa grins down at you. You move your eyes away from hers and Larissa lets go of your chin.
“A goddess? That’s a new one.” She smiles and takes your hand into hers as you begin to walk. “Is that from all your university study? Is that where you’ve learnt to sweet talk?”
“Oh, no, it’s not sweet talk if it’s the truth.” You smile shyly up at Larissa and she grins at you, before taking a sip of her own coffee.
-
It’s a few hours into the night and you and Larissa have been endlessly flirting, lingering touches, longing looks.
You manage to catch a glimpse of a game booth that would let you win prizes, and you grab Larissa’s hand and excitedly pull her towards it, and you look back at her with a grin.
“I believe I promised to win you a prize.” You say and Larissa’s arm wraps around your shoulder.
“You don’t have spend so much time trying to win me a prize, when you’re already here next to me.” Larissa states and you look at her, and bite your lip, trying to ignore the heat that flushed throughout your body.
“I promised.” You repeat and Larissa’s eyes soften as she lets you wander off to the stall. She watches as you speak to the man running the booth and laugh along with him, and you look back towards her with a grin. She’s standing a distance away from you, not wanting to approach, content in watching your excitement.
She watches as the man hands you the throwing balls and you throw the first one, knocking down nearly half off the cans down. She watches as you grin and look back towards her and Larissa cannot help the yearn in her heart.
Your second throw leaves only one can left, and she watches how your tongue sticks out in concentration on your last throw and Larissa grins as you get the last can on the last throw, you jump excitedly and the man running the booth allows you to pick out your prize.
You throw another glance towards Larissa with a smile as you pick out your prize, her prize, and hide it behind your back as you make your way back towards her.
“That was impressive.” Larissa grins and you look up at her with a huge smile. You move your hands from behind your back, showing two matching bear keychains.
“I picked this cause, even if I’m not with you, or you’re not with me, you’ll see it and be reminded of me.” You say and hold out one to her, keeping the other for yourself.
Larissa doesn’t say anything as she takes the keychain from your hand and stares at for a moment before her hand is on your cheek and crashing your lips together.
You respond to the kiss immediately, and Larissa’s hands find your hips before she pulls away and rests her forehead against yours.
“I think we should go back to yours.” She says, slightly out of breath and you nod in agreement, speechless over this woman.
-
When you wake the next morning, Larissa’s arms are wrapped around your waist and you smile softly before checking the time. 07:04am. You shuffle so you’re facing Larissa and she looks even more beautiful than you could have imagined. Her hair is undone from it’s usual style, laying bare into the pillows underneath it, her face is bare from any makeup and you’re close enough to see every freckle that has graced her face.
Larissa stirs slightly before opening her eyes and looking at you. “Morning, sweetheart.” She says, her voice laced in sleep. Her hand reaches up to your cheek and she places a light kiss to your lips. “Do you know what the time is?”
“Oh, its just passed 7.” You say, leaning into Larissa’s touch. Larissa’s eyes widen in shock before she’s making her way out your bed quickly, speeding to pick up her clothes that are strewn about from the previous. “What’s wrong?”
“I have a meeting with the mayor at 8! Did you see where I put my phone?” She asks and you take it from the nightstand and hand it to her. “Thank you.”
There is a slight nervousness to her nature that you shrug off due to her being late, you get out of the bed and watch as she gets dressed quickly, amazed at how she can pull herself together so quickly.
“Where are you meeting him?” You ask Larissa, standing in front behind her as she uses your mirror to fix her hair into its usual style. She turns back to look at you, her hands pausing their movements.
“At a café in Burlington, I left my car at the academy, so I’ll have to get a taxi.” Larissa says, stepping closer to you. “I’ll message you.” She says, before kissing your cheek and leaving.
-
Days pass and you have yet to hear anything back from Larissa. You had left her a message, in which she had just read and not responded. You take the hint, no matter how much it hurts, and you do not attempt to message her.
It’s Wednesday morning and you’re sitting in your usual booth. You notice how Larissa hasn’t come in during the mornings anymore. You sigh lightly as you take out your flash drive and spare a glance to the bear keychain you had attached to it.
A shadow darkens your laptop and you feel hope swell in your chest, at the possibility of it being Larissa but as you see another figure, a lady in which you hadn’t seen before at this time of the morning, who had red hair and was wearing glasses, along with a baby blue cardigan over a summery dress. You smile lightly.
“Hi.” She says, almost nervously. “May I sit here?” She asks, and you look around the café and notice hoe the seating is unusually full. You nod and smile. “I’m Marilyn.”
“Y/N.” You return, with a shy smile. You try to focus on your work but notice the lady, Marilyn, staring at you. You bring your eyes up to meet hers and she smiles softly.
“What are you working on, Y/N?” Marilyn asks and you look at your laptop. Déjà vu from the first time you and Larissa spoke. You frown lightly and look back towards her.
“Just my thesis for Uni.” You return, shortly. You don’t mean to come across as rude but you know that the last time you had been nice to someone sitting with you at the booth, you had a one night stand, and she avoided you since.
Yet, your heart still yearned for. Marilyn’s eyebrows furrow together as she watches you together, throwing a glance at your bear keychain.
“I hope you don’t mind my saying so, but you seem quite upset.” Marilyn states and you bite the inside of your cheeks. “I mean, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to but since I’m just a stranger, it might be nice to talk about.” Marilyn shrugs lightly, taking a sip of her drink, and you notice it in a to go cup.
You sigh, contemplating and decide that it would be nice to talk about it. “I, uh, met someone. I thought we were getting along great, we went to the harvest festival together, she kissed me, and then we went back to mine together. I haven’t heard from her since, haven’t seen her since even though she usually comes here in the morning.” You admit, and Marilyn looks at you comfortingly.
“I have a friend, who’s in somewhat of a similar situation.” Marilyn states, “Well, not exactly the same, kind of the opposite, and she’s the avoider. But she did so for a reason.”
You close your laptop and look at Marilyn whose hands are resting on the table and Marilyn smiles softly, looking at you with warm eyes.
“What reason would that be?” You ask, taking a sip of your drink, before avoiding her eyes.
“Well, see the person she was seeing was quite a bit younger than her, and after they got together, she just felt insecure about her age, about the difference in the stages of their lives. I mean, my friend has her career and knows that she wants to stay in her job for the rest of her life, but she confessed to me that the person she was seeing hasn’t even finished studying yet. She’s scared that this person won’t wanna be with her once she realizes the difference.” Marilyn says and you watch her, your eyes feel as if they’re growing wet. You don’t say anything immediately, noticing the similarities.
“Well, has she asked the person she’s seeing? Cause, you know, the woman I was seeing was quite the bit older than me and that was never a problem for me.” You shrug before sighing again. “Guess she just wanted some fun. It was a bad idea.”
Marilyn nods along, listening to what you say before checking her phone for the time. “I’ve gotta go now, will you be here tomorrow?" She asks and you nod.
-
A week passes and you and Marilyn become quite close friends, often giving each other separate advice. It’s evening time for as you type away on your laptop, its nearing closing time but you have just one more argument to write before you can leave.
You hear the door to the café open and you look up, seeing Larissa enter. Almost immediately, her eyes are locking with yours and you look back at your laptop, saving the file and closing it up before you get up to leave.
You make it halfway to the exit before you hear your name being called. “Y/N!” Larissa says, taking long strides, and you look back towards her, moving back slightly as she stands in front of you.
“Oh, hi.” You say, before pulling out your phone, pretending to check the time. “I’ve got to go, but it was nice seeing you.” You say, with a fake smile.
You turn around and leave the café, making sure you do not glance back, yet you yearn to, to turn around and you hope that Larissa will call out your name, but your heart drops as you walk down the street, and she still hasn’t called out your name.
You feel used. You feel sad and used. Did what you have mean nothing to you?
Unbeknownst to you, Larissa watches you leave, her hands gripping onto the keychain you had won for her, her cheeks growing wet as she realizes how much she has hurt you.
-
The weekend arrives and Marilyn invites you out to a bar, just for a friendly drink she had said. You enter the bar, which lighting is low and you notice Marilyn is at the bar, grabbing drinks and you approach her with a small grin.
“Hi, Marilyn.” You smile and Marilyn grins at you, looking up at you from over her glasses. You notice her taking two drinks from the bartender and thanking him, you furrow your eyebrows at her in confusion as Marilyn smiles.
“Hi, Y/N. I hope you don’t mind, but I invited another one of my friends.” Marilyn smirks, and hands you one of the drinks she has ordered. It’s a glass of red wine and you smile at her taking a sip.
“That’s fine, any friend of yours is a friend of mine.” You smile, and Marilyn grins as she leads you to a table, your eyes are more focused on the bar, and you almost bump into Marilyn as she stops, grinning like a fool as she looks at you.
You move your eyes to the table and to your absolute surprise, Larissa is sitting there is a low-cut dress and her usual golden chain. She stands once she sees you. “Y/N.” She says and you look at her.
“Hi, Larissa.” You say, slightly tense, and Marilyn places her drink on the table. She shuffles slightly before speaking.
“I see you two have already met, which is great because I need the bathroom.” She grins and she rushes away.
“Wait, Marilyn!” You call after her, and she ignores you, as she walks through a crowd. You look back to Larissa and swallow. Jesus, even when you’re mad at her, she still has the ability to make you speechless. You frown as you connect the dots. “You’re the friend Marilyn was telling me about?” You ask, and Larissa steps closer to you. You don’t back away this time, and Larissa takes this a win.
“So that means, you are also the friend that Marilyn was telling me about.” Larissa says and her eyes soften. Her hands find yours slowly, in fear of you pulling away. You don’t and Larissa breathes a sigh of relief before speaking, “I never wanted to use you for fun, Y/N. I just—What I felt- what I feel- is very real and I was scared you’d think I was too old for you.”
You step closer to Larissa, looking up at her through your eyelashes. “I never would have thought that.” You say softly, and Larissa removes her hands from yours, placing them onto your hips. “I was, I am, falling for you, Larissa. You hurt me.” You say, and your cheeks grow hot as Larissa’s grip on you tightens.
“I am sorry, sweetheart. It was never my intention. But after I left yours in a hurry, I thought, I thought, you wouldn’t want to see me because of the workload I have, and I though you might’ve wanted more excitement.” Larissa says, her face coming closer to yours, “But, I have to admit that I am falling- No, I am in love with you, I’m in love with the excitement that radiates from you, the shyness that have when you see me, the passion you have for university, and the I love you.” Larissa confesses, her breath tickiling your lips.
You breath hitches as you close your eyes, before opening them again to see Larissa’s ocean blue eyes staring into your soul. “I’m in love with you too. I love hoe passionate you are about your career, I love how much you care about your students, I love the way you always make me feel so nervous.” You say and Larissa brings your lips together, in a soft, caring, loving, passionate kiss.
You eventually pull away and rest your foreheads together. In the distance you hear Marilyn yell. You both look over towards her as she’s grinning madly before she shouts, “I did it!”
You and Larissa look at each other before giggling.
Fin
#larissa weems x reader#wednesday#larissa weems imagine#larrisa weems#omg these bitches gay#fluff#fluffy asf#nearly died writing this#platonic marilyn thornhill x reader#marilyn thornhill#marilyn is not laurel
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hi sorry if im being a bother but like. how do you be creative? or just have creative ideas in general? your art is always so unique and interesting and so different but I always feel like im never creative or have no ideas. idk if it has to do with me just not being able to focus easily but if you have any rescources or tips or anything really that helps with being creative, if it isnt too much of a bother, could u share them? ty sm
so this has been sitting in my inbox for months, i’ve been wanting to answer this when i had time!
here’s some stuff that helps me:
- an inspiration board by your workspace of other’s work and things you find out and about that interest you and doodles of your own
- writing down simple poetry or prose that you can later attach ideas to
- planning out concepts and compositions more akin to how one would assemble a collage ie. layering very visually different subjects and text
- exploring other mediums! sometimes ideas come better in 3d than 2d for me, this also applies to the work of others you view, i adore some good textiles or photography or films, and leading off that, follow lots of artists!
- let your interests motivate you! wildlife and paleobiology and queer love and my fav video games always make me want to create
- lastly be kind to yourself!
social media especially dictates creatives should always be pumping out perfect, innovative work but sometimes you just need a quiet week. sometimes you gotta make “meh” work and not post it or have a messy, illegible sketchbook. thats how art truly goes.
i can struggle with focus too, i can catch myself pacing for an hour straight or sitting down for two hours and getting 20 minutes of work done and other adhd brain shenanigans but i try my best to be kind to myself and try to create an environment to accommodate that.
treat yourself with respect too, art is a process and journey and we deserve to enjoy that act of creation and vulnerability and expression 💛
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Porcelain Doll
Walter White x Student! Reader
a/n: this is shorter than usual for my fics but lmk if you guys would like chapter two as this was sooooooooo fun to write (one where maybe Walt makes a move on the reader after arguing with Skyler about Ted... ;) )
word count: 1.8k
WARNING(s): Teacher - Student relationship, the reader is big brain, Walt is conflicted icl but when is he not conflicted? nothing inappropriate yet just an allusion to mutual sexual and romantic attraction. READER IS 18 but she is STILL a student so it's a taboo relationship nonetheless
“Are you listening to me?”
You looked up at the man standing in front of your desk, his weight pivoted to one side as his arms were crossed and folded. His green knit sweater looked warm, smiling, you wondered what it’d look like on you, and whether or not he’d find it attractive to see one of his best students wearing his clothes.
“Yes, sorry, I just… zoned out for a moment” he sighed and brought a hand to his chin, where his forefinger and thumb grazed the scruff of brown facial hair in thought.
“I don’t think you are, y/n”
You go to open your mouth but close it again when he raises his hand as if to tell you to be quiet.
“Your grades are slipping again, you’ve gone from an A+ to a D in less than a few weeks, we’ve only just gone over the molecular structures and bonding and you seem to have gotten the working out right but answers wrong… I don’t get it, it’s like-“ and then there’s a pause, and you fiddle with your nails- eyes staring down at your lap as Mr White seeks out the right way to put it, “it’s like… you know what to do, but you’re just intentionally changing the answers from your correct working out”
You scoff, and he furrows his brows, glasses catching the artificial light in their lenses. “Maybe I just don’t understand what to do with my working out once I’ve finished with it,” you argue “There are so many different routes you have to pursue to find the final answer, maybe I just picked the wrong one” shrugging, you rest your forearms on the desk, tipping forward slightly as you do. You draw shapes across the cold surface with your fingers.
“Yes but you set it out in such a way that it doesn't make sense for you to pick the wrong one, there are other students who make a mess organizing their answers- they scribble out and write over until it’s almost impossible to make sense of,” his hands motion toward two imaginary groups as he illustrates his point, the hair above his upper lip shifts as he speaks.
“But your answers are structured in a way it’d be near enough impossible for you to not know which answer is the final one, do you understand my concern?” You nod, and the embarrassment of being found out seeps through the wall of pride you’d tried to sustain. “You’re my brightest student, so it’s just surprising to see such an obscure mistake in your work”
Your cheeks burn warm and red, you hope he doesn’t notice- it’s pathetic, really. Crushing on your teacher, a cliche that a lot of people found insulting. You’d tried to suppress your feelings for him, but the little chemistry jokes he’d make sometimes in class alongside how enthusiastic he was about the subject was enough to make you swoon. It was adorable, and you wanted to just pinch his cheeks. He’d acknowledge your potential in the past: ‘excellent as always’ along with other kind messages was scribbled across a majority of your homework and tests, a crudely drawn smiley face with glasses doodled alongside in matching red ink.
But as of recently, he’d been paying less attention to you and your work. Occasionally, you’d stay behind once the bell had rung to ask him chemistry questions and chat, but now whenever you did he’d just shut you down with a dismissive ‘I’m busy’ or a ‘maybe tomorrow’ despite ‘tomorrow’ sometimes being a Saturday.
You knew he’d still speak to Barry for failing, so you figured that maybe you’d have to start messing up for him to start talking to you again. It was selfish, sure, but you wanted him to like you, to like talking to you as you did with him.
“I-I’m sorry, I’ve just been a bit..” you try to find an excuse, but when you can’t you purse your lips together- your eyes scrunched shut as you prepare yourself for what you’re about to ask, “Mr. White, have I done something wrong? I-I know that’s weird to ask but- hear me out, okay?”
His green eyes widen momentarily, he stumbles for a reply but eventually finds that an ‘Alright’ slips past his lips with as much decorum as a baby giraffe trying to find its feet.
“I like your lessons, a lot, they’re my favorite part of the day, and-” your hands tremble against the surface of the table, so you ball them up and push them down to rest atop your thighs. “I can imagine you're busy, but I feel like I’ve done something to annoy you- you know? Like when I used to ask questions after lessons and we’d talk…” your eyes don’t dare meet his, and you feel like you’re going to start crying as the shame and embarrassment bubbles in your chest.
“You’re the only person I actually feel comfortable opening up to, and I know you still talk to Barry about his work when he messes up, so I figured I’d-“
“-You decided to intentionally write the wrong answers on the tests to get my attention…” he’s in disbelief, and you look up, eyes meeting him as he shifts his weight onto his left leg and pinches the bridge between his nose.
“Yes, it’s stupid, but I really like talking to you, Mr. White, I like talking with you about Chemistry and I like listening to your… weird teacher stories, and shitty-“ fuck, “-interesting, jokes… I love spending time with you"
You exhale, finally, as it feels like you’ve been holding your breath for the last five minutes. Relief overtakes the shame you’d felt, and the anxiety of opening up. It was done now, there was nothing you could do to take back what you’d just said. It wasn’t an outright statement admitting your unrequited feelings for him, but he was smart enough to infer that you liked him more than you’d liked anyone else.
“I-I’m sorry for making you feel like that, Miss l/n” he starts, leaning against his desk as you meet his stare- one that’s so familiar but now is like looking at a stranger. “I’ve been busy, I- you know I’ve told you about my wife, right?”
Swallowing back the word you’d been trying to ignore, you nod, “yes,”
“Well, you know that it’s been hard to stick around here after hours because of the baby- there’s just a lot going on at the moment,” and the fact his wife is cheating on him, but he refrains from mentioning that.
“Oh, congratulations” in an ill attempt to sound happy for the man you were in love with, you manage to sound more disheartened than you would’ve initially.
“Thank you,”
There’s another awkward silence, you look down at your feet, picking at your fingers. Walter moves from his desk to around the side of yours, he leans his hand on the table and sighs, you hadn’t even noticed he was there until his Clark wallabee shoes slip into your peripheral.
“Look, you’re a lovely young lady and I enjoy talking to you, but you’re my student, you're smart enough to know how wrong that is,” he waits for a reaction, and you nod, glancing at him as you take your teeth between your lower lip. Now you really feel like crying. This is a nightmare, you should’ve just said your imaginary dog died, maybe then you’d avoid this awkward conversation.
“And believe me when I say I’m flattered,” more than flattered, actually. You were an attractive young woman and he’d be lying if he denied having thoughts about you that were similar to those of when he’d first set eyes upon his now wife. Yet still, he valued his job, and he loved his family. Despite how much of a bitch skyler had been recently, they were married, and if someone found out about him having an affair - let alone an affair with a STUDENT - he’d be done for.
“you’re young, you should be focusing on yourself and your future, with that head on your shoulders you’ll without a doubt do amazing things. And I’m not ‘just saying that’ to appease you.”
You look up at him, and he’s smiling in a way you’d smile at someone who’s just lost something precious and dear to them.
“I-I didn’t mean to feel like this, I just… I love everything about you it’s hard not to like you, I- I've always liked older guys, no offense or anything but.. it really is difficult,” you pause, and he goes to add something but you cut him off before he can, “This was stupid, a stupid idea I know and I should’ve just waited it out, but… can I ask you a question? And be honest with me, please, I won’t tell anyone.”
For a moment he contemplates, but eventually gives in. The look of desperation that glimmers in your eyes as they glaze over with tears was enough to push him over that edge. You had this crush on him, you really did think he was perfect. God, he felt horrible. How little you knew of what he’d done.
“Do you- if-“ you sigh, turn to face him, hands in your lap as your cheeks flush- almost matching the red ink that graces your failed test paper, which still sits on the table between the both of you. “If I wasn’t your student, hypothetically, and you saw me in a bar or out in public and I talked to you, would you like me back?”
He wants to say no, but deceiving you after all that is dishonorable. He figured that you deserved the truth after being so open and honest with him now.
“Yes, I think”
You forget you’re sitting in a classroom when you move your hand to his left, which is pressed against the table. Tracing the pads of your fingers over his knuckles- feeling the gold wedding band that fits him perfectly, you smile and he smiles back.
It does boost your ego a little to know that had you not been his student, you would’ve had a chance with this man. God, it sounded silly now. Crushing on your 50-year-old chemistry teacher. He was a person behind that facade, a father and a husband.
Despite how selfish you could be, you wouldn't force him from that. He was a good man, intelligent- you valued his word.
“You… don’t think… less of me now, do you?”
He chuckles, it’s low within his chest and he reaches to brush your hair back with his fingers. You close your eyes and melt into the warmth that’s there. He does it with such care and delicacy, as though you’d break beneath the slightest amount of pressure.
A porcelain doll, pure and fragile.
A/N: alright that's that! let me know what you guys think down below and lmk if you're all up for a part 2...
#walter white x reader#walter white x student!reader#walter white#breaking bad#brba#breaking bad x reader#walter white x you#walter hartwell white#walter white is pussy whipped on the dl#reader has daddy issues 100%#teacher x student#teacher x reader
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Curiosity Killed the Cat
Ledger!Joker x Reader
Warnings: Mention of child abuse and domestic violence
Summary: One night you get a little too curious and try to pry J’s past out of him. He gives you some information but there are some things he’s just not ready to share.
Author’s Note: I’ve been piecing this one together for a while now but I really got to work last night and this morning. So here’s y’all a little Sunday snack. Aaaaaah the angst in this oneshot. Don’t hate me too much 😅
Taglist: @alittlesmartcookie @unholiiness
You and J were curled up together in your cozy bed one Saturday evening. J rested his head on your shoulder and hummed softly. It mimicked that of a cat purring. You basked in his warmth.
You were so lucky to be the one J chose to love. Most people wouldn’t get your relationship but you were fine with that. It was a bond that only you and J would understand.
You kept him grounded and from falling too deep into insanity. If something happened to you, he’d be lost forever.
And yet, you only knew a fraction of the complex man known as the Joker. He was still very much shrouded in mystery. Who is he? What is his name? Where did he come from? What was he like before he became a criminal?
You only knew what J told you and that wasn’t much. You knew when he was younger he grew up outside of Gotham (though you didn’t know where), his father may or may not have been abusive, he liked to skateboard, and was an outdoorsy kid. Between then and becoming the Joker, you knew nothing.
You understood that it was to keep himself a secret and, though he wouldn’t admit it, it pained him to get into his past. He wouldn’t even tell you what happened in Arkham. You hoped one day he’d tell you everything.
Why not get information out of him now? You had to start somewhere. Tonight was a good time because J was in a good mood. So you gathered your courage and spoke.
“J, what’s Arkham like?” You asked meekly.
Joker seemed surprised at your question. He was quiet for a while. Your heart sank. You hoped you hadn’t upset him. It was a sensitive topic after all.
“Uh, why do you ask?” He finally spoke.
“I-I’ve heard how horrible it is and I worry about you.” You replied.
“Well, it’s not that bad. When you’re locked up in a cell by yourself, it gives you time to think. People say that isolation makes you go crazy but that’s not true. Well, not for me at least. First of all, I’m already ‘crazy’. That’s why I’m there to begin with. Second, I like being left alone. If they forced me to socialize in the common area or go to group therapy, then I’d really lose it.”
“What did you do all day? That seems like it would get pretty boring.”
“Yeah, it did. When I wasn’t drugged all to hell, I mostly just doodled in the journal they let me have. They didn’t give me anything sharp to use of course. They gave me crayons. I guess they thought I couldn’t do any damage with it. Jokes on them, I could do a number of things with those. But I, uh, controlled myself because I didn’t want them taken. I also daydreamed a lot. When you’re that bored, you can’t help but try to escape reality for a while.”
“Did they mistreat you?”
J chuckled darkly.
Your eyes widened.
“Yes and no. My doctor seems to care about my well being. He makes sure that the nurses tend to my wounds when I’m brought in. He even had those asshole guards fired when they beat me to a bloody pulp. But then again, I was beaten, drugged constantly, they force fed me when I didn’t eat, stuck needles in me, and shoved pills down my throat. You know, the usual stuff.”
Your face softened. “I’m sorry J.”
“Pfft. What’re you sorry about? You didn’t do anything.”
“I know. But I still feel bad. Nobody should ever be treated that way.”
J sighed softly. “If only the rest of the world thought like you, y/n.”
You smiled as he hummed into your chest. It was quiet again until you remembered what you hoped to accomplish.
“What was your father like?” You asked randomly.
J stared up at you for a moment.
“Why are you asking me all these questions, bunny?”
You played with his hair and tried to figure out how to best answer him.
“I don’t mean to upset you, J. It’s just that I know so little about you. You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. I’m just curious.”
“Yeah, well, curiosity killed the cat.” Joker muttered.
His tone had gotten meaner. You hated when he did that. But you expected it, given that you were getting into his dark past. He was going into defensive mode.
Joker sighed.
“Fine. My father was horrible, y/n, He was a raging drunk. He beat me and my mother senselessly. One thing I remember very vividly was him breaking a glass bottle over my head. I should’ve gone to the hospital but he wouldn’t let Mom take me. I probably have a scar on my scalp.”
J paused to gather himself and his thoughts. Then he told another story.
“Another time when I was around 16 or 17, he was relentlessly beating Mom. I can’t even remember what triggered him. I could hear Mom screaming from my room. So I went out there and pried him off of her. He then turned his rage towards me but at least Mom was safe for a bit. When he finally quit kicking the shit out of me, he went to the liquor store to get more booze like nothing happened. Bastard…”
You didn’t know what to say. Maybe this was a bad idea.
“My mom was the sweetest woman ever. She didn’t deserve any of that. I tried to stop what I could. But I was so young and I could only do so much.” Joker said with a sad sigh.
“That was really brave of you. I’m sure she appreciated it.”
J just nodded. He seemed lost in thought. You had the biggest question spinning in your head but you knew to ask carefully. This might just set him off.
“J, what happened to you? Why’d you become the Joker? What changed you?”
The expression on Joker’s face made your heart break. He jerked away from you, darted into the bathroom, slammed the door, and locked it. You wanted to cry. You felt so stupid.
Way to go, y/n. You scolded yourself as tears welled in your eyes.
“J, I’m really sorry! I overstepped. I shouldn’t have gotten so personal. I know how much it hurts you but I did it anyway. That was so selfish of me. I shouldn’t pressure you to open up. Please just come out. I’m so sorry.” You pleaded with him.
At first there was no response. Then after what felt like hours, you finally heard Joker groan and stand up. He unlocked the door and opened it. He glared at you.
“There’s a reason why I don’t talk about it, y/n. I hate thinking about it. But it’s all I think about. It haunts me day and night. It’s in my nightmares. I don’t want to think about it any more than I have to. It would also reveal my identity and I can’t do that. I’ll tell you everything someday. Just not right now. I’m not ready.”
“Okay. I won’t ask about it again. But I’m always here if you want to vent.”
“I know bunny and I appreciate it.” J said and pulled you into a hug. He kissed the top of your head.
“I’m so sorry.” You mumbled into his chest over and over.
“S’okay, bunny. I’ve moved on. I know you didn’t mean any harm.” J reassured you.
He crawled back into bed and you followed him. You nestled close to him, burying your head in his chest.
J didn’t answer all your questions but you learned some more about him. He put up with so much yet was so full of courage. Even if he was a murderous psychopath, you had never met anyone braver than him.
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Golden Wings
Pairing: Wednesday Addams X Reader
Word count: 2.34k
Summary: You're a new student at Nevermore. What happens when you get involved with Wednesday's stalker mistery?
Hello. First time writing for Wednesday so she's probably OOC here. Like always, if you see a mistake, please let me know.
A/N I have used the look of the Dark Faes of Maleficent 2 for the story (Picture here)
The story happens after season 1 of Wednesday. Everything happened the same except Weems death.
You welcome the cold feeling of the stones in your wings. You’re facing the quad, your back pressed to the wall as much as you can, trying to avoid contact with other students. It’s the first day of the semester at Nevermore, and your first year here. After the defeat of Crackstone, the school got a bigger reputation among the outcast, making it more crowded than before. You feel the looks that some students give you, whispering among themselves. You can’t blame them, it’s not every day that they see a Fae between them.
Your kind tends to stay reclusive, just interacting with yourselves. It’s been like this for a while. You’re one of the oldest types of outcasts that exists, and one of the most dangered. Your ancestors were persecuted before the others, being an easy target because of your appearance. Your wings and horns always made normies uncomfortable, and your powers on the elements caused fear. They would call you Demons, using that pathetic excuse to kill you all.
Nowadays, just a few of you survive, living in small packs. In the north, the Tundra Fae, white-winged humans that can control the weather. In the south, the Desert and the Jungle Fae. They both can speak with animals but their appearance is different. While the Desert have light brown and black feathers, the Jungle Fae have very colourful ones. In the west, the Forest Fae, the smallest pack. Their wings tend to be dark brown and they can control plants.
You’re a bit different though, your parents were a Forest and a Desert Faes, so your wings and powers are mixed. Your feathers are different tonalities of brown. From a very dark one, to an almost sand-like colour that when hit by sunlight becomes golden, and your horns are tall and twisted, like black tree roots.
You listen to director Weems’ speech, welcoming all the new students, before grabbing your class schedule and your dorm key from a teacher. Ophelia Hall, room 45, tells you before going away. You look everywhere, trying to find the way to your room. You ask for directions in the main hall, but it’s packed with noisy students making it impossible for you to understand them.
You wander a little bit, trying to find the way on your own, when a student stops you with a hand on your shoulder. “Hi, I’m Enid! You look like a lost puppy. Need help finding your dorm?” A tall blonde asks you. She has a bright smile on her face, jumping on her toes from excitement. “Yes please.” She starts walking to your dorm, you by her side. “OMG. I’m sooo excited for this year! You’re a Fae right? I’ve never met one before! How come you’re here? Not that I don’t want you here is just that I’m curious. You are a quiet one, aren’t you? Sorry, I know I can be a little overwhelming, my roommate always tells me I talk too much.” She says without breathing, giving you an apologetic smile. You have yet to speak, looking at her with widened eyes.
You arrive at your dorm, opening the door and letting Enid inside. It’s small, with just a single bed, a small closet and a desk. “An individual room. How lucky! I have to go now, I will see you around.” You sigh when the door closes, a little bit tired. You unpack your things, happy that you don’t have to share a room with anyone, and decide to rest on your bed for a little before grabbing dinner.
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The next morning, you go to your first class. You sit at the back, not wanting to draw attention. You’re doodling in your notebook when Enid comes to you. “Hi!” “Hi Enid” “I’m happy to see you here! Also, I forgot to ask your name yesterday.” You look at her before telling her your name. She starts rambling about how you are going to have most of the classes together when the professor enters and Enid is forced to go to her table. Just as he was going to introduce himself, a short ravenette girl enters. She mutters an apology before searching for an empty seat. The seat next to yours being the only one free.
You look at her in silence. Her skin is pale, her face dotted with cute freckles around her nose. You can see she has a little bit of dirt on her cheek. Before you can continue gawking at her, she looks at you with a murderous look “What?” “Oh, nothing! You just have a little bit of dirt on your cheek.” You stutter before paying attention to class.
You spend the rest of the class in silence, taking notes and muttering under your breath the answers to the questions. Just before the class ends, the teacher announces you will need to do a group project for the next week. Everyone gets excited and starts to choose their partners. You look around the class, trying to find someone to join.
“Howdy roomie!” “Enid, don’t” The ravenette says with a warning tone. “Oh come on Wednesday! You have to do the project like everyone else.” “I prefer jumping from our balcony than wasting my time working with these poor excuse of humans” “Well if you say so, but I thought you wanted to keep your academic record perfect.” Enid says with a grin. You see how Wednesday slumps for a second, before going back to her stoic pose. “Fine, but I won’t take responsibility for my future actions” “Don’t worry, it’s just me, Yoko and Divina. You can join too if you want” Enid says to you. “Thanks” You give her a little smile before grabbing your backpack and following them out.
You meet Yoko and Divina in your next class. They’re nice, and you think you can become friends easily. They don’t really mind that you don’t talk a lot, so you feel comfortable just hearing them talk and humming from time to time to let them know you’re listening.
They invite you to seat at their table for lunch. After grabbing the food, you go to the quad, seeing that Wednesday and Enid are already seated at the table with other people. “Guys, this is Y/N, she’s a new student. Y/N, these are Bianca, Ajax, Xavier and Eugene.” Divina says before taking a seat. You give them a little wave and a smile. “Can I ask something?” You ask looking at the group. All of them, except Wednesday, look at you and nod “I thought you would sit with your own kind? Don’t get me wrong, is nice to see you interact with others. It’s not like that for us.” “We used to spend most of our time with our own, but after what happened last year, we all became closer.” You nod and start eating, their conversations going to the back of your mind, when Enid’s question grabs your attention.
“Oh, Wednesday! I forgot to ask you before! Where were you this morning? You usually don’t get late for class” “I went to the forest to try and find a clue on the stalker” She says in her usual monotone. Well, that explains the dirt on her cheek, you think before realising what she just said “Wait, what? You have a stalker?” She gives you a deadpan look “Yes” “How can you be so chill about it?” “It’s thrilling actually. The school would be boring without a mystery to solve” Enid grimaces “Wednesday, I think we all had enough mysteries last year. I still think you should tell Weems about it.”
She’s going to retort when Bianca speaks, trying to change the topic. “So Y/N, why you decided to come here?” “Oh well, after the incident with Crackstone, some Faes thought it would be good if we start interacting more with other outcasts, but they’re still afraid of normies. I decided coming here was a good start. I could show them that it’s not that bad.” You answer rubbing your neck. They ask you a few questions about Faes before you all finish your food and go back to class.
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After dinner, you find yourself in the greenhouse again. You’ve been coming here every day for the three weeks you’ve been in Nevermore. You love feeling the power of the plants surrounding you thrumming through your veins, it makes you feel as if you were back home. You’re lost in your thoughts when you hear the door open.
Getting up from the floor, you walk to the entrance, where you see Wednesday with Thing perched on her shoulder. “Wednesday? What are you doing here?” “I need your help in the woods.” You make a confused face. It’s true that during these past weeks, you’ve become close with all of them, especially with the girls (While working on the project, you bonded). But, you and Wednesday haven't had a lot of interactions. You’re both quiet and she’s very reserved, even more so than you, so you thought that if she needed help she would ask Enid or Bianca, not you.
“What happened?” “The stalker is getting more aggressive. They started to threaten the group, including you, and I haven’t been able to find anything about them.” She says with an exasperated tone. This is the most emotion you've seen her express, which lets you know it’s a serious matter. “Ok, what do you need me to do?” “They have been sending me these photos.”
She gives you her phone, where you can see a bunch of photos of her with your friends. The latest one is of her, Enid, Bianca and you returning from Jericho. “It’s from this evening. They had to make it from the forest near the road. Maybe there’s a footprint or something that I can use to track them.” “Have you tried tracking the phone where the messages were sent?” “Of course Y/N. I’m not a rookie. They use a burner phone.” You raise your hands in surrender after seeing her murderous look. “Ok, ok. I was just saying. I will help you, but why me? Why not Enid?”
She walks out, looking back at you “Come on, we don’t have the whole night.” You follow her to the woods in silence, waiting for an answer. “After what happened last year, I’m not taking any chances. I don’t know what is the stalker, and I don’t want to put them in any more danger. You are stronger in nature. If they decide to attack us tonight, I know you can protect yourself.” “So you only chose me because of my powers?” You ask a little upset, feeling like she’s just using you. She sights, stopping before looking at your eyes. “You are extremely intelligent Y/N. I heard you in class, you know all the answers. So no, I haven’t chosen you just because of your powers. Now, can we stop this sentimentalism and focus on our task at hand?” She starts walking again without waiting for an answer.
The rest of the way, you two walk in silence, alert for any suspicious sound. When you arrive at the point where you think the photo was taken, you split to try and find a clue. The ground is uneven and full of rocks, making it hard to walk without tripping over. The rain from these past days makes the rocks slippery, and you almost fall a couple of times before something catches your attention. “Wednesday! I have something.” “In one of the rocks, there are three fine scratches. “Claws. Your stalker is a werewolf.” You say with a little smile. “They probably tripped and used their claws to hold themselves.”
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It’s been a month since that night. You’ve been helping Wednesday as much as you can with the stalker, whether it’s analyzing the photos for any pattern, looking around the school for anyone suspicious or covering her when she decides to leave school. But since that night, you haven’t been able to discover anything else. You just know that they’re a werewolf, and a student at Nevermore.
You two don’t talk that much, preferring to work in a comfortable silence, but spending so much time at her dorm has helped you know a part of her that she usually doesn’t let other people see (like how she interacts with Enid, she’s way softer with her when the door is closed), and you can’t help but start to feel warm when you think about her. Unbeknownst to you, Wednesday’s feeling a similar way. She trusts you completely, which is rare for her. But she knows you wouldn’t cross any boundaries with her. She likes that you give her space when she needs it, and you always try to make her feel comfortable.
You’re in her room when she receives a new message from the stalker. You see how her eyebrows furrow when she reads it. “What is it? It’s another photo?” You ask worried when Wednesday doesn’t say anything. “No, they want me to go to the woods at midnight.” “They told you why?” “They want to make this ‘game’ more interesting. They will leave a clue in there for me.” “Well, I suppose I will meet you in the greenhouse tonight then.” “No. They want me to go alone. If they see someone with me, they won’t leave the clue.” “What? You can’t be serious right now Wednesday. It could be a trap! I’m not letting you go alone.” “I won’t, Thing will follow me. If I’m in danger, he will help me.” You sight, knowing you can’t change her mind. “Fine, but I will be awake in my dorm just in case you need me.”
You go to your dorm after that. You lay on your bed, disconnecting the phone from the charger, and see the screen flash with a new notification.
Unknown 16:30
The bait is ready
You reply quickly before turning it off.
Be careful, Thing will be with her
#wednesday addams#wednesday addams x reader#wednesday addams imagine#wednesday addams x you#wednesday addams x female reader
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Thank you for being so reasonable! Honestly mutual respect goes a long way, it's just hard to interact with any gen/nonship artists in dmc fandom if you have any kind of pro fiction/anti censorship online presence because it's like doing russian roulette where 5 times out of 10 they're chill and don't care as long as you don't force stuff on them (very fair!) and the other 5 they'll stay quiet if they have a big following, but spread rumors behind your back and silently direct hate mobs in dms to call you out for being a "degenerate" (wish i was making that up or being paranoid), so it's always better to ask than to be blindsided! Sorry if it sounded like a weird question, but like I said been burned before and your art is so nice!
It’s not a weird question don’t worry, I’ve been on that side of things as well and have gotten pretty paranoid! But i promise it’s absolutely fine and I knew what to expect when I head dived back into doodling dmc stuff. So it’s on me to do what I reasonably can to avoid things that bother me and to leave people to do their own thing 🫶
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We Love Steve Part 2
Steve got up shortly after Eddie left. And would have sneaked away if it wasn’t for the message on the door.
“Gone to Hellfire Club, be back later. I know you. Don’t you dare leave until I get back. I’m serious. I will hunt you down.
-Eds” With a little doodle of a devil sticking his tongue out.
He let out a little laugh. He had to admit that maybe Eddie did love him. He had been so shocked by the confession...Steve was so sure that it had slipped out accidentally. But Eddie had meant it.
And he loved Eddie, loved being with him, he made the buzzing in his head distant. Almost quiet.
He was wondering if he should go back to the sofa or go lay on Eddie’s bed when the door opened to reveal Eddie coming back.
Steve blinked. “Eddie?”
Eddie flashed him a smile. “You weren’t thinking about going anywhere, were you, big boy?”
Steve blushed and shook his head, holding up the note. “I know better than to disobey my boyfriend.”
Eddie’s face lit up and a small smile found its way to his features. “Good.”
“I was just trying to decide, sofa or bed,” Steve said softly.
“Bed,” Eddie decided immediately. “We both need rest after the night we had.”
As they lay there comfortably, Steve in Eddie’s arms, he murmured. “I’m sorry I ruined your guys’s game.”
“It’s okay,” Eddie said. “I’ll make it up to them next Saturday. I just couldn’t concentrate knowing you were here by yourself.”
Steve kissed his cheek. “Thanks.”
Eddie kissed his lips and Steve melted.
Eddie caressed Steve’s hair until the boy had fallen asleep.
*
Max waited until everyone was settled before she spoke.
“Right, here’s the detz,” she said. “Steve thinks that he stops giving us rides to basketball or to the movies, or anything like that, we’ll stop calling him.” There were a lot murmurs, but she held up her hand. “Just wait, it gets worse.”
“Worse?” Dustin croaked.
“He also thinks that if he stops letting us have parties at his place, we’ll stop calling,” Max continued. “And then there’s the real kicker. The one that upset Eddie so much that he couldn’t concentrate.”
“Must be bad,” Lucas said. And everyone nodded.
Max pursed her lips. She wasn’t exactly sure how to say it. “Steve thinks he’s too stupid for us to want to hang out with him and that we wouldn’t if he hadn’t saved our lives.”
The room was dead silent for the longest moment in Max’s entire life, before the room exploded in protests.
She let them go on for a bit before she calmed them down.
“But none of that’s true,” Dustin said, tearing up.
Will shook his head. “When was the last time we had a party that wasn’t at Steve’s?”
Everyone looked at each other, begging for someone to say something that was at least recent. But no one could come up with anything.
“Or when was the last time we invited Steve out to movie or to go to the mall and didn’t make him drive?” Max asked.
“But he has the biggest car, next to Eddie’s van,” Mike complained.
“So?” Lucas asked. “You’re parents have a pretty big car, Nancy could drive us. But we never ask, because we assume Steve will just agree to it.”
Mike looked down, disgruntled.
“Everyone calls him stupid or dumb, but is he really?” Erica asked.
Again they all fell silent.
“He’s really good at tactics,” Dustin murmured.
“He figured out the song at the mall,” Erica mentioned.
“And then there’s how many times he’s hit his head,” Will said softly. “That’s bound to have caused problems.”
“All the times he’s protected us,” Dustin agreed.
“So are we all in agreement not to call Steve stupid, just because he isn’t book smart?” Max asked.
Everyone nodded.
“But what about the rest of it?” Lucas asked. “We have to do something nice for Steve, show him that we do care. Because Eddie’s right. He does so much for us, but what do we do for Steve?”
“When’s his birthday?” Erica asked.
Everyone looked around.
“No one knows when his birthday is?” Max asked incredulous. “Not even you, Dustin?”
Dustin shook his head. “I’ve never really thought about it.”
“Nancy might know,” Mike muttered. “I’ll go ask.” He got up and went upstairs.
“This is a bad start,” Will said. “If we don’t even know when his birthday is. He knows all of ours.”
Mike came down the stairs a few moments later. “No go, guys. Nance doesn’t know either.”
They all stared at him in shock.
“Would Robin know?” Lucas asked. He was starting to get desperate now.
Max shook her head. “I doubt it.”
“Shit.”
It didn’t matter who said it, only that everyone agreed.
“Eddie?” Dustin asked, raising his head. “Cause even if he doesn’t know, it wouldn’t be weird for him to ask.”
Max nodded. “I know Steve works tonight, so I’ll head over to Eddie’s and let him know the plan. And if it’s already past, then we’ll just throw a surprise party for him anyway. We don’t need a reason. But his birthday would be a good excuse.”
“I’ll ask my mom if we can have it here,” Mike said from the bottom of the stairs.
Everyone nodded.
“Maybe we can get Gareth and Jeff in on it,” Erica suggested. “Have it be after a D&D session. Invite Robin and Nancy, maybe Jonathan and Argyle too. So that when Steve comes to get Dustin and Will we can surprise him.”
“El, too,” Mike added. Erica nodded.
“And they can park at our house,” Lucas added. “We’re just around the corner, everyone can walk over so Steve isn’t spooked by all the cars.”
“Looks like we have a plan,” Dustin said.
“Now all we need is a date,” Max said.
*
Eddie and Steve were lying in bed that night, cuddled up together.
“I’m still sorry about ruining your game yesterday,” Steve said. He had come over after work and had flopped face first onto Eddie’s bed, completely exhausted.
“Don’t be,” Eddie said. “You have been holding that inside you for so long, it was only a matter of time before it exploded. I’m just glad it was at me and not one of the kids or Robin wouldn’t have been able to handle it.”
Steve just buried his head further into Eddie’s shoulder.
“Red stopped by, they’re all really worried about you,” Eddie continued.
“I never intended to be a burden,” Steve murmured.
Eddie twisted his body so he could look Steve in the eye. “You aren’t. What you are is too stubborn to ask for help and let me tell you as a former member of that club, it’s shitty place to be.”
Steve sighed. “I’ll try to ask for help more often. I’m just so used to not having anyone around to lean on.”
Eddie knew that the Harringtons were never home, he just never realized how badly it had warped Steve.
“Well you have me now, darling,” Eddie said softly, kissing the top of Steve’s head. He paused. “You know what I just realized, I don’t know when your birthday is.”
Steve groaned. “No one does.”
That brought Eddie up short. “Wait, no one? As in none of your friends in the history of ever, no former girlfriends, none of the kids know? Not even Dustin?”
Steve just shook his head.
“Why?”
“It’s on a holiday.”
Eddie frowned as he tried to figure it out. “Let’s see. It’s not one of the holidays that are different every year, because then it wouldn’t matter most of the time. It’s not Christmas, you love Christmas.” He tapped his finger on his lips.
“Oh I know!” he said excitedly.
“Don’t say it,” Steve murmured.
“It’s Halloween!”
Steve got up and drew his knees to his chest. Eddie forced himself to sit up too.
“That’s why you hate Halloween. It’s not because it’s spooky or whatever it’s because it’s not an ‘appropriate Harrington birthday’, is it?”
“Yeah.” Steve buried his head in his arms.
“Well it’s a good thing you have a boyfriend that loves Halloween and can make it extra special for you,” Eddie said with a grin.
“You don’t have to,” Steve murmured to his knees.
“We’ll just have to see about that...” Eddie said. And tackled Steve back to the bed tickling him until Steve begged for mercy.
Part 1 Part 3
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//~John “Soap” MacTavish hcs~//
A/N: Oh this man something else. Johnny gets all the baddies👁👄👁. I’ll probably make a weekly schedule at some point. König oneshot is coming soon too. I’ve been feeling sick so imma leave this here but I’ll get better.
Drop down requests and follow!!
Contains: sex, drinking/drunk soap, comfort, some little angst, Ghost being annoyed, chaos
MINORS WATCH YOURSELVES!!!
Enjoy!<3
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• Oh this cocky bastard
• You liked him first. He knew and teased you or flirted with you a lot
• But he would never make you feel like he was playing with your feelings
• So if he misbehaves or says something dumb in public you probably hit him and tell him to be quiet
• 141 feels sorry for you. Ghost is grateful you put Soap in his place
• When he gets home from a mission he will literally wake you up with no hesitation. Walks into the room and turns on the lights.
• “Bonnie, wakey wakey love I’m home!”
• You groan in annoyance with your eyes still closed. “Johnny it’s 2 am, but god…screw it”
• You get out of bed then jump onto him and he places his hands under your thighs and kisses you.
• If he sees you crying or just mentally exhausted he’ll wrap his arms around you. Will try cracking a joke or just anything to make you laugh
�� Doodles or sketches in his time. It’s a fun hobby and for his creativity. Buys notebooks or sketchbooks at the store there’s no more space to put them
• He’ll get drunk and it’ll be the most fucking hilarious thing ever
• Ghost has to bring him home because he can’t be on the street. Absolutely not
• “Ghost?” You look next to him and see your boyfriend clinging to the masked man.
• “Take him. Mate had too much bourbon” Ghost is clearly tired and annoyed
• Soap would look at you and loudly whispers to Ghost. “She looks like Y/N, wait you were supposed to take me home L.T.”
• You’ll laugh at him for sure. Ghost throws him onto the couch and he’s already knocked out
• Oh how it’s hot in the bedroom 🧍♀️
• He’s a switch. Likes seeing you in control at times.
• If you have something sexy or new on then forget it. He’ll rip it off and get to action. (R.I.P your money)
• Praises you well and how he moans because of how tight it is for him
• Aftercare? He’ll most likely fall asleep on your chest when you’re done
• Please look after him when you shop
• You might need to put a leash on him
• Wanders around the stores and you can’t find him the next 30 minutes
• You were in line with the cart waiting for him once and he brought a NERF gun.
• “No, put it back.” He won’t stop. “Pleaseeee bonnie, it’s a new edition!!”
• You look at him with an almost offended look
• “You have a job with real guns and explosives is that not enough for you? Put it back.”
• yeah…
• You gave in and bought it for him
• Nightmares are present at times. Like 3-4 times a month
• You found him in the bathroom once against the wall hyperventilating
• You kneel in front of him and pull him to you. His response was to wrap his arms around your waist and he tries to catch his breath
• “Breathe Johnny…you’re safe with me baby, c’mon let’s go back to bed yeah?” He’ll nod and you lead him back to the bedroom
• You’ll give him water and lay next to him and he falls asleep hugging you with his face in your chest
#john mactavish#cod modern warfare#modern warefare ii#soap mw2#mw2#call of duty#ghost call of duty#ghost mw2#call of duty mwii#soap mactavish x reader#soap cod#cod headcanons#cod x reader#mw2 x reader#cod smut#soap x reader#soap call of duty#mw2 soap#cod mw2#soap x you#simon ghost riley#john price#gaz cod#kyle gaz garrick#alejandro vargas#mwii x reader#call of duty modern warfare
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Can I get a trans Pickles x reader?
Hi, yes, I'm sorry this took so long! I’ve been working constantly this week, and on top of that, I wanted this fic to be its best (a lot of restarting half way through because I couldn’t continue it, and alooooot of proofreading—haha!) That being said, all other writing will be slow because I am a slow writer! Other than this one (it's on the shorter end of the spectrum), expect a thousand and up in word counts! That being said 2.0 please don’t be discouraged from requesting more! I love all of the ideas coming from you when I’m not writing something myself in the meantime! And yes, I will continue the ABC! List both SFW and NSFW! Someone's gonna have to show me how to make a master list.
Trans! Pickles x Reader
Summary: just your state-of-the art Pickles comfort. Pickles has trouble asking for help when he needs it the most. Oh, and the reader also works with the show's production team.
Warnings: depictions of gender dysphoria, implied familial transphobia, description of surgery scars, reader with no specified gender
Word Count: 1,014 words
Pickles had always been open and rather accepting of everyone he'd ever had a conversation with, you included. Always the one to help others relax, always the one to listen, always the one to hold you with open arms. Something in you has always had the inclination in the back of your mind that he was projecting that same protection he craved for himself, but any time he starts to open up, something conveniently happens to interrupt him, or he shuts down completely. Always the reliable one, always putting everyone else first, always the rock.
You and Nathan were the first to notice his spiral when it first started. First, he was unusually snappy over little things when they were recording. He started waking up earlier and earlier, until he seemed to stop sleeping all together. Despite your pleas to take care of himself or talk to him, he kept insisting everything was okay. Always stable, always responsible, always cool.
His mask slipped completely one day during a show; maybe it was the lights, maybe it was the heat, maybe it was the fans glaring eyes staring at him like they knew something. The show was cancelled that day, and he locked himself in the broom closet in the makeup room. And now here you were, sitting with your back against the door, listening to the muted sniffles as pickles tried to hold it together. Always collected, always relaxed, always…quiet….
"I’m sorry..." Those were the first words you heard from outside the door; you weren't even sure he knew you were there. You sat up straighter and faced the door now, one hand on the cheap wood that separated you. "Don’t be sorry, dude. Nathan and Skwisgaar have handled the situation with the fans."
"No- no… y/n-- I'm sorry for shutting you and everyone else out... I'm a fuckin hypocrite."His voice cracked and shuddered again; you could hear him shifting uncomfortably before he spoke again.
"The band didn't deserve this... You sure as hell didn't deserve this—hell you made this show happen tonight, and I blew it."
You didn't know how to respond for a second; this was the first time you'd ever heard him so broken before. Lost in your own head, you almost didn't hear him knock on the door the first time to get your attention.
"Are you still there?"
"yeah—! Yeah, I-I’m still here, doodle... Can I join you in there? We can keep the lights off—"
Before you even finished your sentence, the door had opened, and Pickles' strong arm had pulled you inside. Just like you offered, the lights remained off. But you could still make out his outline in the shadows, and that was enough for you as you took his hand in yours.
The two of you stayed that way for what felt like forever, before the redhead took a deep breath and said, "My mom called me some days ago... "I guess I had left a drunk voicemail or somethin’— called me an even bigger disappointment than the day I told her I..." He choked up and pulled his knees to his chest. Your heart broke at the sight as your eyes adjusted and you could see him better. He looked like a kid again, dejected and lost. "I know I can never make her see me that way, but I’ve tried everything else to get her to love me—even just the facade of who she wants me to be."
There was a thunk as Pickle let his head fall back against the door. He pulled his hand away so he could push his palms against his eyes in an attempt to force his thoughts into order.
"I didn't mean to fall this far... Man, I'm fucked, aren't I?"He laughed humorlessly before his eyes met yours in the dark: "I'm supposed to be the one helping anyone else with this... I'm fuckin' famous; I stopped worrying about how I'm perceived. If you told me when I was 16 that I didn't have to live my life in a binder—I'd fuckin laugh at ye…."
A hand took yours and brought it to his chest, and though it was over his shirt, your hand could almost feel the scars on his chest. You'd memorized it well; it didn't define who he was, but it did make him beautiful in your eyes.
"I hear you, loud and clear, Pickles." Your words felt hushed as his heartbeat thrummed against your fingertips, but he understood you well. Fresh tears welled in his green eyes as he pulled you fully into his lap, hiding his face in your shoulder. Moments like these usually require very few words; any string of sentences couldn’t convey what either needed to say exactly what they wanted anyway.
Your hands cupped Pickles’ face, your fingers gently massaging the weak spot behind his ear. He groaned appreciatively as both of you sat like that; the sounds of the show getting cleaned up were hardly muffled through the thin door.
"Oh man… Charles is so gonna have my ass." He groaned weakly when he decided he was done sitting in the rank ass broom closet.
"Don’t be so sure... Nathan will get to you first," you tried to tease, shoulders easing slightly at the sound of his familiar scoff, "he's been worried about you too... Don’t tell him I told you."
You could still sense his unease as his chin moved; he was looking at the wall now.
"Hey, look at me." You pulled him back to you, his face now clear in the shadows, as you skillfully wiped the fresh beads from his eyes.
"You’re not alone any more... You made it," you reassured him lovingly. "We can be strong for you sometimes."
Pickles hugged you tight, taking his first smooth breath since he'd calmed down. You kissed his head and down his cheeks before ghosting your lips over his. He smiled against you; his smile was always contagious. You had to suppress a giggle before giving him exactly what he wanted, holding him as you did.
#metalocalypse#dethklok#x reader#dethklok x reader#pickles the drummer#pickles x reader#pickles the drummer x reader#trans pickles#might write something self indulgent after this#savory or sad it’s yours to decide#what’s next?
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hii! can i request a fic with johnny cade x fem reader where theyve liked each other for years but haven’t confessed and act like a couple so the gang teases them for it and they do it until they finally become an official couple?
❦︎ I Like You, Do You Like Me?❦︎
Johnny Cade x Fem Reader
Ever since you were little kids, you and Johnny had been hand in hand before being friends with the gang. You two where each others first friends, had the first day of school together, first sleepover, first everything. But as you got older in elementary you guys became close with the greasers, and soon became one of them. Even though Johnny was in a greaser gang he still was the same boy you met when you were kids.
As you got older and got into middle school, that’s when people outside the gang started asking if you two were dating. Which was always awkward when asked because you’ve like Johnny since you’ve met him. Not just as a friend.
When you got into high school the dating allegations died off, except in the gang. Everyone would tease you guys, even Darry.
But recently Johnnys been acting really weird. Like more quiet, ands always with Ponyboy. At first you didn’t mind but now you’re scared he hates you or something.
“Am I annoying him? What’s the deal?” You finally ask Ponyboy. Pony looks confused and weirded out by your question.
“What do you mean? Johnny doesn’t hate you? You guys are best friends” Pony responds.
“Then why does he barely talk to me now, and only ever hangs out with you. It’s fine he hangs out with other people, but now he NEVER hangs out with me, did i do something wrong?”
“What no! It’s not that at all, im not aloud to tell you why..” pony looks anxious not being able to look for an excuse and having to tell the truth without actually saying anything.
“What?” You say but Pony’s walked away.
“Whatever!” You say walking back to your house.
After a few hours your laying in bed then hear clicks on your window. You walk over and it’s Johnny outside waving for you to come down.
You went down and immediately asked “so do you hate me?” Johnny looked shocked.
“what no!” He replayed.
“Then why do you keep ignoring me Johnny? And just spending all your time with Pony?”
“It’s because I’ve been working on something with him. It’s for you” he looks embarrassed and hands bouquet of hand picked flowers, and a long piece of paper. You take a closer look and it’s a love letter.
“I’ve loved you since the dawn of time, since the sunrise, since we met. I’ve been to scared to confess to you my feeling because im worried it would ruin our friendship, and I’d rather drown in my love for you then loose you. I love you so much Y/n, and im sorry if it’s selfish of me to tell you this but I can’t contain my love for you anymore, it feels like im going to explode. I love you but that doesn’t mean you have to love me back I just need you to know that.”
After reading Johnny’s letter there was a lot more of poetry, doodles, and more little notes. You’re tears started falling onto the paper and you grabbed onto Johnny, he held you tight as you sobbed into his chest.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything I didn’t mean to make you sad or anything” you cut him off with a kiss.
“I love you Johnny, I’ve loved you since we where kids don’t apologize”
The next day you made it official, and made the dating rumors true. The gang freaked out at first but now just teases you guys.
You two were soulmates waiting for the right moment.
#the outsiders#johnny cake#ralph macchio#johnny cade x fem reader#johnny cade fic#johnny x reader#johnny cade x reader#girlblogging
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Autistic Vash HC’s
I’ve been writing knives stuff so I wanted to write Vash stuff too to compensate <33
This is like college au btw
(Written by an autistic writer)
-Vash doesn’t get super overwhelmed by noise- at least he doesn’t show it. He gets frequent headaches and doesn’t want to be a bother or be left out, so he stays. Even if it hurts
-knives ends up dragging him away
-when you get headaches though, or get overwhelmed, best believe he doesn’t care if he’s left out at all, his ‘friend’ needs to be somewhere quiet asap!!
-he’ll sit outside in silence w you, much like knives in this matter. But he’ll be more direct, “how do you feel?” And “are you ok? Is there any way I can help?”
-god the way he looks so worried for you 😭 <333
-you guys have a shared study playlist (he has a private one w songs he thinks you’ll like and asks Meryl or knives on if he should add them bc he wants you to like them)
-he’s got unhealthy snacks for u, and is willing to share if you doodle something cute on his notes
(If you’re bold enough to draw a heart he’ll be thinking about it for DAYSSSSS)
-he tells knives about you when getting ready for the day (when knives is checking the pantry + fridge and when Vash is tying his boots)
-you’re both oblivious idiots totally in love
-you get mistaked as a couple w how sweet you two are- giggling, laughing, teasing, but you both turn red at this, adamantly refusing.. he’d never like you, right?
-he’s such a nerd and you love him for it and when u tell him stuff he’ll listen intently. You both admire each other’s passion
-he offers you his hand jokingly up the stairs and you take it, nervously. “Uh, I was uh- joking- uh-“
“Oh! Sorry-“
“I don’t mind though! Ahem; let the valiant gentleman escort you!”
(He’s ecstatic)
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