#the only measurement i have for assignment for these is the vibes | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

greenishghostey · 2 years

Text

Peppermint Haze

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ content MDNI, bath sex, p in v, unprotected sex, handjob, hair pulling, fluffy smut, established relationship, Eddie getting to chill out, dirty talk, creampie, soapy boobs, winter themed porn, lots of grinding, this is really just mushy fluffy porn so yeh

Word Count: 3,361

Author’s Notes: Please pretend that bath sex is not a logistical nightmare and that bubble baths aren’t terrible for vaginal health. The cosy, comfy vibes were too good to pass up so here we are :))) DO NOT REPOST OR EDIT MY WORK

///

Hawkins always got indescribably cold by the middle of November. Snow would pile up on tree branches and sidewalks - becoming less of a Christmas card backdrop and more of a slushy inconvenience.

That was definitely the case at Forest Hills Trailer Park. The dirt track roads were frozen solid and covered in a thick layer of powder and wintery mush. A lot of the park’s residents took turns digging out sections of the roads since everyone still had to get to work. Winter wouldn’t stop the likes of Wayne Munson from making it to his Friday night shift.

Eddie and Wayne had been shovelling out Patty, their hippy elderly, neighbour’s grey hatchback when you showed up at their trailer. Friday night was date night, and the shitty weather meant it would be an evening in Eddie’s trailer.

Both you and Eddie had planned an extremely relaxing night since the week had been hell for you both. Eddie had been working late at the craft store because the holiday rush was beginning - he‘d kept you updated on his projects that mainly consisted of measuring fabric and lifting all of the heavy boxes. You had been dealing with an influx of school kids at the library - rushing to get books for their last-minute assignments and begging you for help finding specific titles. So, a little indulgent date was much needed for the pair of you.

Gloria, one of your coworkers, had gifted you with a small Christmas “spa” hamper as a thank you for all your hard work. It consisted of peppermint bath oil, vanilla body wash that doubled as bubble bath, and a cocoa butter lotion. It was all super nice stuff which made you feel a little bad for only having Christmas cards to give to your colleagues. However, the festive kit led to you and Eddie agreeing on your main date night activity.

A really really long bath. He was the one to suggest the idea after you gushed over the gift - the suggestion was mostly innocent, surprisingly. Honestly, you both just wanted to be all cosy and gross in the privacy of his home.

That’s how you found yourself submerged in an amazing soapy bath that smelled like heaven. Only your face was poking out from the bubbles as you breathed deeply - floating and listening to the muffled sounds of Eddie rummaging around his room for tapes. He said he’d made a tape, especially for the evening, making you melt even further into the minty bliss. Your sinuses were going to be so clear after this.

Eddie barged into the steamy bathroom in his usual loud, sort of clumsy way. The tile floor was more slippery than he’d anticipated so he had nearly crashed into the room. You poked your head up and gave him a little wave from the bubbles - hair soaked and a touch of foamy stubble on your jaw.

Once your sleepy eyes focused on him properly, you saw that he was butt naked while fiddling with his stereo on the counter.

You leaned on your forearms on the edge of the bath. “I don’t tell you enough how nice your butt is.” You sighed, smiling up at him when he glanced at you.

“I’d say it’s a little better than “nice”, at least “premium goods” status.” Eddie huffed jokingly, now slapping his stereo in an attempt to get the tape deck to stay closed. He was a firm believer in if you smacked technology around a little and showed it who’s boss then it would work. “Babe, you’re objectifying me while I’m trying to set a romantic mood, all for you.” He shot you an exaggerated pinch glare over his shoulder.

In reality, he really liked when you ogled him and made him feel hot. “This is a small bathroom and your ass is right at my eye level. Get over it, dude.” You smirked, sinking back into the warm water.

“-I bet you say that to all the boys,” purred the voice from the stereo. Damn, Eddie knew how to set a weird, but really good mood. Meat Loaf wasn’t exactly his usual music choice, but he knew you loved a good ballad.

“Hey hey! See? A few loving taps and viola, she sings.” Eddie grinned, turning to you with a flourish of his arms, “kinda like you.” He sniggered as you splashed some water at him.

“Hurry up and get “the goods” in the water. I’ll give you a head massage.” You sighed, letting your body sink back into the water.

Eddie laughed again, softly, and dipped his foot in the water - testing the temperature so it wouldn’t burn his balls. He slowly sank down, the warm water being a stark contrast to the chilly trailer outside the bathroom.

“By all means, take your time there.” You chirped, forming a bubble beard while you watched him. Eddie was so pretty in the steamy, honey light. A small sheen of sweat painted his chest, and he couldn’t hold back a giggle when he saw your foamy facial hair.

“Once I’m balls deep, I’ll be all good. Don’t rush me.”

You snorted, “not the first time I’ve heard that.”

“Give me like… ten minutes and you might be so lucky, sweetheart.” Eddie winked, finally sitting down fully in the bath with a deep, satisfied groan. The sound shooting down your spine and fuelling the budding ache between your thighs. “I’m a fucking genius for this idea. God.” Another groan faded into a purr.

“You’ve really outdone yourself. Using my work present for your benefit. What a gentleman.” You sniggered, hiding behind the suds when he lightly kicked your leg.

“Let me soak in peace, woman.” He grumbled, trying to hide his sleepy smile and failing.

You watched Eddie quietly and full of adoration. His eyes were closed and his face had relaxed significantly, any harsh lines or fatigue melted away with the steam from the bath. Eddie allowed himself to slide fully into the water, soaking his wild curls and pushing his bangs out of his face. He started working his calloused fingertips into his scalp. You watched, unblinking, as his large brown eyes rolled back into his skull and he sighed.

Eddie had said he needed ten minutes but you weren’t going to be able to wait that long.

You wiped away your soap beard. As much as Eddie adored you being a goof with him, you knew when it was time to get serious. Both of you knew where the night was heading, so you may as well speed things up a little. The cosy air and the melodic cries of Meat Loaf were perfect.

“Eds? C’mere. Said I’d give you a head massage, and I’m a lady of my word.” You stated, giggling as he quickly started to twist himself around, making the porcelain squeak.

Eddie situated himself between your legs and rested his wet hair on your chest. The bastard even started twiddling his thumbs while he waited for you to start, “I’m ready when you are.” He shot you a bright, toothy smile, swaying a little to really drive home his oh-so-innocent intentions. Eddie was always such a tease.

You gathered some of the vanilla and peppermint-scented foam and started lightly massaging Eddie’s scalp. Your blunt fingernails slightly scratched him as an added luxury, but mostly because you wanted to make him feel extra special. Eddie’s hair was such an integral part of him. Not only was it for his own self-expression, but he fucking loved when you played with it and pulled it just enough that a shot of pain coursed through him.

“That good?” You whispered, one of your hands wandering down his chest to caress his spider and demon head tattoos. The spider was your favourite. One time when he had picked up from a party after getting too drunk, you’d named it Edith, and kissed her goodnight. Eddie had damn near melted under you when you did that. You were just too sweet to him sometimes.

“I’d even go as far to say it’s nice.” Eddie breathed. The feeling of you rubbing his hair and scalp was the greatest high he could ever experience.

“Oh my god,” you groaned, pretending to be annoyed. “Change your tune and I’ll keep this hand going lower?” You breathed into his ear, your wandering hand now grazing the wispy dark hair on his belly.

“See, I don’t think you’re gonna stop either way.” Eddie groaned. He started nuzzling his head against your tits, leaving a few small pecks between them. “Promise I’ll make it worth your while later.” He sang.

“Aw, aren’t you just my best guy.”

“Would hope that I’m your only guy - oh f-fuck.”

You finally traced your hand down Eddie’s thick cock. He twitched under your touch, your pruned fingertips dancing along the prominent veins on the underside of his shaft. Eddie’s pleased whining and soft panting showed you that he wanted you to wrap a hand around him and drive him crazy. But your goal was lower.

Your warm hand caressed and massaged his balls as he let out a surprised moan. “God. Harder.”

The pressure of your hand increased as you rolled his heavy sack in your hand. “You’ve been saving these for me, haven’t you?” you purred, Eddie having shifted to starting mouthing at your hard nipples. “Neglecting your balls when you're jerking off because they’re all for me, yeah?”

“They need a woman’s touch, what can I say - shit, yeah, don’t stop.” Eddie groaned, almost shouting. Your hand that had been massaging his scalp was now slowly pumping at his cock. All teasing, soft touches - you knew it wasn’t enough for him. Eddie liked to be handled with an intimate roughness that only you could give him.

Eddie’s large hands were moving everywhere. Massaging your legs, squeezing your arms and running up your neck blindly. The distinct warmth and softness of your body were addictive to him. You were the first person to let him touch you everywhere - no grimacing, no catch. Just encouragement and admiration. Said admiration came in the form of a low moan when Eddie’s fingers caught on a piece of your hair and tugged.

“Babe, babe. We gotta stop or I’ll blow my load too fast.” Eddie huffed, pushing himself up and back to his original position across from you. He held out his arms wide, gesturing excitedly for you to come to him.

You really loved how excited he still got when it came to you. In any scenario, he was always happy that it was you.

Eddie grabbed your ass as you straddled him. Reaching up to bring you into a hungry, wet kiss. His mouth was restless. Lightly chapped lips pressed to yours, teeth nibbling on your bottom lip, tongue massaging yours just enough to drive you crazy - he always drove you crazy.

The flushed, hard head of Eddie’s cock rubbed against your clit as your hips wiggled in his lap. “Fu-fuck yes.” Eddie groaned, pulling you down on him more. Your warm-up was one of his favourite parts. “You want your cock? You gotta wait, sweetheart. I’ve barely gotten my hands on you yet.”

You whimpered, hips still grinding with more impatience. “But you're all wet and warm.”

“And now I’ve got to get you like that,” Eddie chuckled with a smirk. “Do me a favour. Get some of the bubbles and play with your pretty tits for me?”

“You just wanna see soapy boobs.” You quipped, already gathering large handfuls of foam in your palms. The mint and vanilla scent had weakened, but it was still comforting.

“I do. Now, get to it.”

Eddie had moved one of his rough hands down to your aching cunt. Pinching your clit between two fingers, and rubbing it with his thumb.

God, yes. You could feel yourself becoming slick under Eddie’s touch. Your clit slipped under his calloused thumb as your wet hard nipples rolled between your fingers. Both of you released any and all noises that felt right. The needy moans and heavy pants harmonised with the lapping of the bath water. Eddie loved watching you play with your tits for him, applying just the right amount of grip to the soft mounds to make you whimper and hiss.

Such pretty, sensitive tits were a heaven he wasn’t sure he deserved, so he was going to make sure they were looked after.

“Someone’s having fun,” Eddie chirped, picking up the pace of his massage to your clit. God, he was evil. How were you going to hold a conversation under this level of pleasure?

“Woman’s touch, right?” You moaned and ground harder onto his hand, catching the hot tip of his cock at the entrance of your weepy cunt. Eddie whimpered and his smirk melted into a delirious smile.

The grinding, the moaning and the messy kissing continued for some time. Both of you basked in the intimate little world you had created in the steamy, trailer bathroom. There was nothing but time for relaxation and ecstasy - the night was still young and outside was just so cold, it was too horrible to think about.

Eddie had started to angle his hips and yours so that the head of his swollen cock prodded your hole. When your movements synced up perfectly, his tip slipped into you - providing a delicious tease.

Large hands were now groping and spreading your ass cheeks. The occasional short, sharp slap joined in. “Can I fuck you? Please. I know we got time, but I need it.” Eddie panted, his eyes laser-focused on your soapy tits that were in his eye line. “Promise you won’t be walking for the rest of the night. Fuck, rest of the weekend if you let me.”

Now that was a tempting offer. “If you get to be inside my pussy now, then you won’t be leaving any time soon.” You smirked, playing with his soaking hair and twirling it around your fingers.

Eddie didn’t respond to you. He lifted your hips up, thumbs massaging your love handles and slammed you back down onto his cock. Your gasp fizzled into mewling as Eddie started moving to grind into your sweet spot. He really wasted no time when it came to making you feel incredible.

“Aw, there she is.” He teased, one hand running up your back to tangle in your hair. “You were getting a little mouthy there. But I’m gonna help you turn that brain off, isn’t that right?”

“Mhmm, please.” The sensations coursing through your sweating body were exactly what you needed. Big hands tugging lightly on your wet hair, Eddie’s fat cock fucking into your g-spot and his growling breath tickling your chest. You needed to stop thinking for at least a little while. You needed Eddie.

Eddie needed you - maybe even a bit more than air at that moment. The embrace of your hot, spongey walls always had him reeling. You allowed him to see you in a vulnerable light, and he did the same. It was like a small weight off his shoulders that he hadn’t fully noticed was there.

“This pussy - my pussy. F-fucking god. Lean back for me, I wanna see you, pretty girl.” Eddie had started to work you on his cock, thrusting slowly and so deep into your cunt.

You gripped the rim of the bathtub and leaned back, an amazing tension forming in your thighs. “Want - sh-shit - more, Eds.”

“Fuck yeah, I’ll give you everything, baby.” A thumb started flicking your puffy clit again and Eddie grinned up at you. “Uh-huh? Taking such a big cock so well, like a good girl.” Christ, he was almost too good at speaking absolute filth.

“Can - can you cum in me? Please. Please, oh my fucking god.”

The entire image of you on top of him set his blood on fire. Tousled, wet hair. Soap-dripping tits. Heavy-lidded eyes trained on where he was fucking you down onto his cock. You sparked something almost animalistic in him, and now you wanted him to empty his balls inside your cunt.

Huff. Huff. Groan. Eddie couldn’t find the words to respond to you. So, he fucked you harder, causing desperate pleasure to pulse through both of you. He tugged your head back and began sucking along the column of your throat.

“Gonna fill up my gorgeous girl. God, your pussy’s gonna be so fucking messy.” Eddie was essentially delirious by that point. The only thoughts in his head were fucking you, cumming in you and suggesting that bath sex became a regular thing. The vanilla-scented stuff had you smelling like some fancy dessert, the poor guy was losing his mind.

You wanted to be messy. Eddie was pounding into you so well that your mind was calm and blank. The bathroom could be swimming with sudsy water and you wouldn’t even know.

“Oh fuck, fuck,” you squealed. “Want to be full all night. Need it, Eddie. You need it too. Uh-huh?”

“That’s right, babe. Always so smart for me.” His voice sounded far away, but in the best way possible. Eddie had a single goal in his sight and the tightness in his balls felt so fucking amazing.

The way you begged always short-circuited Eddie’s brain. You were so lovely, so amazing. Hearing you say his name in your hoarse, needy tone made his cock twitch violently.

Your cunt clung to his thick cock, trying to milk him dry and chase your own orgasm. Your release washed over you in a pulse of heat and electricity - momentarily making your body go limp from the euphoria. It didn’t stop. It wouldn’t stop until Eddie did. His cock was splitting you open roughly as he used your sopping hole to cum inside.

“I’m gonna fucking cum.” He groaned, his jaw hanging slack. “Can you say my name, babe? Tell me who’s gonna fill you up.”

“Eddie - you, Eds.” A fucked out whimper is all you could manage. But it worked just as well, if not better.

Eddie came deep inside your slick cunt with a deep scream and a slurred string of curse words. Panting and water lapping were suddenly the only sounds in the green-tiled room. It was a sticky but not unpleasant atmosphere. You loved it.

You had collapsed onto Eddie’s chest as he ran a weak hand through your hair. “I feel all tingly.” You sighed.

“Like good or bad? Swear my jizz isn’t radioactive or anything.” Eddie snorted, his voice sounding sleepy. Christ, he was almost too warm, but like hell was he moving from his current position.

“I meant good tingly, like romantic tingly. Way to ruin the post-sex mood.” You huffed, flicking one of his nipples until he let out a little shriek.

“Okay, okay, easy there.” Eddie splashed some water up into your face. He was lucky he was so cute. “That was an incredibly romantic start to the night, in my humble opinion.”

You hummed in agreement as you lifted yourself off of Eddie’s softened cock, settling back to straddling his thighs. Bath or not, you were getting your post-sex cuddles.

“Want to be full all night. Need it, Eddie.” Eddie whined, mimicking your high-pitched moans as best he could. As much as you hated when he teased you like that, the impression was actually pretty solid. “That’s what you said. That’s love right there.”

“And I was being entirely honest.” You replied. “Bear my horny little soul to you and look where it gets me? Bullied.” The next few seconds moved by quickly. One second, Eddie was fixing you with an eye roll, and the next he was pouring foamy water over your head. “Dick!”

“Don’t worry, I’ll blow dry your hair before round 2.” Eddie grinned, moving close to you and pressing a kiss to your now dripping face.

“I want some of that conditioner stuff you use in your hair too.” Demands would have to be made as a form of repayment after your boyfriend tried to waterboard you. “The one that smells like coconuts.”

“I’ll braid your hair too, how does that sound?”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie Munson x fem!reader #eddie Munson smut #eddie Munson #smut #fluff #fic #eddie #stranger things #my writing

3K notes · View notes

elix8r · 1 year

Text

Monkey Bars (sjy) - Teaser

PAIRING: jake sim x fem!reader

GENRES: smut, fluff, crack, college au, frat au, enemies to lovers, exes to lovers, maybe the slightest bit of angst?

TEASER WC: 0.35k once again i have no clue how long this is going to be but from what i feel rn it’s gonna be another long one and it’s also going alot slower than pink whitney rip ૮₍•᷄ ࡇ •᷅₎ა

SUMMARY: Jake Sim was like the epitome of the perfect fourth-grade boyfriend. He had it all – being a year older automatically put him on the cool list (which in turn also boosted your popularity), genuinely kind, and very cute. But then, the earth-shattering truth that he was a two-timing cheater hit you like a ton of bricks. You caught him red-handed, holding another girl's hand and it devastated you beyond measure. So of course, in your nine-year-old mind, there was only one deserving punishment – a forceful push off the monkey bars during recess, resulting in a broken arm.

And so, the battle lines were drawn. You and Jake became sworn enemies, a feud that carried on even into college. You saw him as a total fuckboy who always knew how to get under your skin, while he saw you as a snobby bitch who thought she was better than everyone else. But fate, in its twisted sense of humor, had other plans. Out of a class brimming with a hundred other possibilities, it was Jake who ended up being your assigned partner.

Clearly, the world had favorites and you weren’t on that list.

THE FRAT DIARIES MASTERLIST

As Waka Flocka's "No Hands" reverberated through the pulsating house, your body instinctively moved to the infectious rhythm, the alcohol adding to the blissful sway. Suddenly, a strong arm snaked around your shoulders, and the intoxicating scent of cologne filled your senses. Your body melded snugly with theirs before they leaned in, whispering into your ear.

"What's your name?" His voice jolted you, instantly recognizable and sobering. Slowly, you turned your head to face him.

Jake fucking Sim.

Out of all the people in the world, of course, it was him. The realization seemed to mirror his own sentiment, evident from the annoyance etched across his face. Disgusted, you pushed him away, eager to distance yourself from his unwanted proximity.

"Oh, fuck no. Fuck off," you shot him a withering look, brushing at your shoulders as if trying to wipe away any remnants of his presence.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" His question only served to reinforce your belief in his sheer stupidity. You rolled your eyes, mustering up the patience to respond.

"Really, Jake? Why do you think you dumbass?" The realization hit you that Epsilon Nu was the frat Jake belonged to, instantly eroding any remaining respect you might have had for the house.

"No way you got a bid from AES," he exclaimed incredulously, disbelief radiating from his eyes. "Only hot and cool girls go AES, and obviously, you're neither."

"You've clearly become even dumber since high school 'cause it seems like you've forgotten that I'm a triple legacy," you emphasized, feeling your blood pressure rise with every passing second of the encounter.

"Whatever, get away from me," he retorted, his face still contorted with disdain, prompting a scoff to escape your lips.

"You're the one who came over to me, you asshole." With that, the two of you abruptly turned away from each other, stomping off in opposite directions, each eager to put distance between yourselves. The excitement and joy that had previously filled bid day were now replaced by a sour mood.

Leave it to Jake to ruin everything.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: jake is so mean in this story but i love him sm like it’s so fun to write when both your main characters are assholes lmao it adds spice like this is already such a different vibe than pink whitney despite being in the same universe but i love it (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)

#jake sim #sim jaeyun #jake sim scenarios #jake scenarios #jake fluff #jake sim fluff #jake sim smut #jake smut #jake x reader #jake sim x reader #enhypen #enhypen scenarios #enhypen x reader #enhypen smut #enhypen fluff #college au #frat au #fic: monkey bars

592 notes · View notes

rosewaterandivy · 10 months

Text

fightin' to get better

modern!eddie x f!reader

summary: eddie does his damndest to get us out of the study to take a frickin' break.

a/n: My blog is 18 +, minors DNI; purely self-indulgent smut and prosaic idolatry here, my usual brand of filth.

🎶 ooh, let you slide up your hand, uh oh, let go all of my plans 🎶

Grad school could suck a dick. A whole bag of ‘em as far as you were concerned. The entirety of your summer had been taken up by this final class— a subject you loved, but far too much reading and work assigned for the condensed semester.

Eddie thought so too.

The man was quick to chime in when you’d had a glass of wine or two and finally extricated yourself from the front room you’d claimed as an office. Couldn’t understand how you would be complaining one minute and then the second he adds his two cents, you’re defending the professor in question.

But then again, you’d always been tender-hearted.

Which more than explained your penchant for collecting strays, present company excluded, naturally.

“That’s it,” he says, fingers working to peel the damp label from the beer bottle. “First thing tomorrow, I’m gettin’ on the horn with this so-called professor.”

“Eddieeee,” you whine, lips falling into a pout. “Don’t do that.”

He leans into it really playing it up, an eye roll and scoff combo, head inclining to rest on your shoulder as he falls on you dramatically.

“Can’t have my best girl pulling all-nighters every other week.”

His voice was softer, not laced with his typical jocular tone. The bright images of the screen dance across your faces in the cool room. Eddie settles against you, warm breath fanning across your chest and neck.

He can see the subtle dark hues beneath your eyes, hates the evidence of your sleepless nights spent in front of the computer, nose buried in a book.

“I know,” you rasp after a beat or two. “I’ll get better baby, I promise. S’just a few more weeks and then I’m army-crawling to the finish line.”

He cracks a smile, unable to hide his elation at your accomplishment— at you.

Eddie Munson and his genius girlfriend, who would’ve thought?

—

So it really shouldn’t be a surprise a week or two later when Eddie wanders into the study to find you up at all hours of the night. Again.

“Babe—”

“Jesus Christ!” You jolt in your chair, startled by the sound, and slowly swivel toward him. A deep breath once you realize who it is, eyes adjusting to the darkness of the room.

And, sure enough, your boyfriend is standing there wiping the sleep from his eyes, sporting his Suspiria sweats and looking entirely displeased.

“God Eds, make a noise! You’re like Ruth Gordon just standing there with a tannis root.”

He crosses his arms with a sign, ignoring your barb. Ruth Gordon, with her blue eye shadow and head scarf? Puh-leeze.

“You said you’d be ten minutes.”

You shudder at the timbre of his voice— raspy and low, hitting the sweet spot that sends heat rushing to your core.

“Shit, I’m sorry, babe.”

Glasses discarded and hair askew, you sigh catching the time and start to pack it in for the night.

Eddie is surprisingly quick for someone snatched from sleep and dreaming, he turns your chair away from the desk and fixes you with a look.

The penetrating kind, where he squints and tilts his head like he just can’t figure you out. And yeah, he’s never really understood academia or why the books you’ve had to buy are always so damn expensive. But he does his best to support you, reminds you to eat and sleep more than he’d like because you have the tendency of getting too caught up and distracted.

His gaze softens, “C’mere pretty girl.”

Eddie picks you up and throws you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, despite your protests. Smacks your ass for good measure.

“M’gonna fall!”

“No, you aren’t,” he tuts, “Such a drama queen.”

He barrels through the dark house only to deposit you in the dimly lit bathroom. A shaft of light eeks in from a partially opened closet door, candles flickering on countertops catching their reflections in the mirror.

Right side up again, you pause and take a look around. The bathtub is filling up, bubbles growing in soft peaks of foam, and a bath bomb fizzles away, painting the water in candy-colored hues.

There’s a glass of wine and another of ice water, sweating against the ledge of the tub. An iPad propped up in the corner, your favorite show cued up and ready to go.

“Baby,” you say, turning back to him, voice barely above a whisper. “What is all this?”

He takes a step toward you, the slightest inclination of his chin prompting your hands to rise above your head. Eddie’s nimble fingers find the hem of your shirt and tug it upwards, soft fabric brushing against your skin only to be kissed with damp heat.

“Jus’ wanna take care of you,” he says simply, quietly. As if he’d rather do nothing else.

“Oh.”

His fingers alight on the waist of your shorts, thumbs hooking in and pulling down.

“Hmm.” He says, kneeling in front of you, brow quirked and eyes seeking yours. “Feelin’ lucky today or—"

The heat rises in your chest and neck, hands flying to cover your face while he lazily peruses your bare form.

Not so much luck as it was sheer exhaustion that informed your sartorial choices and distinct lack of underwear today, but you’ll take what you can get.

His breath ghosts along your thighs, muscles tightening inadvertently, the coil in your stomach winding taut.

As you step out of the shorts, Eddie turns off the faucet and herds you back against the sink. A brief lift and you're sitting on the countertop, legs splayed, head falling against the cool mirror behind you.

Eddie buries his head between your legs, and smothers praises between your thighs.

Eddie's pretty sentimental with oral— kissing, kissing, kissing— can't stop his lips from meandering, can't stop his mouth from savoring. He noses against your slit, tongue darting out to taste. A low rumble ripped from his chest as the slick muscle works against your petaled heat, savoring the arousal gathered there.

He gets dizzy off it. Selfish for it. It all goes to his head— whimpers and moans falling from your candy-pink mouth, a prolonged whine of his name.

Left, then right, back over again. Drowsy roaming paths, curving and bending, pleased when you arch into his mouth, forever wanting more. Licks you for hours like you’re the last bit of sweetness in the world, savors it long and lazy and delicate.

"Sweetheart," he sighs, pulling away briefly. Lips ruddy and wet with your slick, smiling slow and dangerous, “You’re fucking delicious, baby.”

You moan on his clever tongue and the sloppy sounds he makes. He's always stunning— eager and devoted to the singular task of lapping at you like a starved man.

Two fingers twist inside before he turns them back and shoves them in his own mouth. He repeats this again and again, like pulling a secret from your body that only he’s allowed to enjoy.

“Yes,” he sighs, “Fuck yes. Fuck—mmm—"

It's as if you're on the precipice of a coming storm, pressure building, and rising, too, in your belly, as he works into your body, heavy-lidded and transfixed on your beautiful face. Deeper until you’re shaking, pulling your legs up over his shoulders, getting him closer, closer, closer.

Your toes curl.

"Eddie—"

You shatter like a splinter of lightning. It bursts across your skin—a bright, brief halo—before it’s gone, chased by the explosion of swollen clouds. He muffles a loud fuck! into the meat of your ass, while his fingers continue to corkscrew inside of you.

He's wet down to his wrist, coaxing vestiges of arousal from you, and rises to kiss your open, panting mouth, your exposed throat. Eddie's lips turned wicked and desperate when he asks, "Think you can gimme another one?"

Nodding dumbly, bath and freshly laundered sheets completely forgotten, you watch as he all but yanks you down further, ass now hanging off the countertop. Swings your legs over his shoulders and dives back in, your cunt now positively flooded due to his velvet tongue.

On the bright side, this all-nighter was exceedingly better than the one you had planned; you wouldn't have it any other way. Well played Eddie Munson.

Well played.

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #🏃🏻‍♀️💨#Spotify

130 notes · View notes

raayllum · 29 days

Text

i also just want to point out that whatever Aaravos is doing in the posters with the cube can't, I think, just be "the cube is vibing with him while they look into primal magic" for two reasons. The first is that both posters give strong indication that, from the books and world around them, primal magic is being channeled/stored into the cube itself (perhaps for its recognition system). The second is that the cube doesn't glow white for the bulk of the primals at all, particularly sky.

Earth is a vivid green, Sun is yellow, Ocean is also blue (just a bit darker maybe), with Moon and Star getting closest to that white colour.

But even Star's light is tinged with purple and appears more deeply purple unless you're zoned in on it.

It also wouldn't make sense for something like the Sky poster to have moon magic by any measure, especially since the Sky rune itself is glowing. And it could also be they want to highlight which rune is glowing In General without assigning its specific colour, which - fair enough! Art is hard and there's a lot to keep track of (i.e. the runes on the poster cube also aren't as risen as they are in the show, for example). That being said: there's one scene where we see the cube only glow with pure white light like that, and it's this:

Just something to think about

#the key of aaravos #mini meta #analysis series #i'm feeling perfectly hinged today thank u #tdp spoilers #for promo art so just in case

41 notes · View notes

fullmetalscullyy · 8 months

Note

dearest emma could you bless us with some protective/arguing royai like the kind of “why would you put yourself in danger!!” “to protect you” “that’s my job!!” vibes 🥺🥺 if you would be so kind and inclined 👀

u bless me with the most stunning of prompts. i only hope i can do it justice 🩷

read on ao3

summary: and i bear it willingly // for you

rated: t | words: 2274 | tags: royai, post-canon, ishval, post-ishval, guilt, survivors guilt, romance

“I will not have this argument with you again, sir.”

Her response is calm. Measured.

Professional.

Riza knows he hates it. Knows he despises how detached she sounds about her own life. In reverse circumstances, she would feel the same regarding him.

But things are different.

She lost the privilege to put her life above anyone else’s in Ishval. Whereas he has to continue on, to make it ahead of the others and usher in the change they need.

This is her burden to bear.

She watches as the frustration bubbles out of him. It manifests in a multitude of ways. Ways she’s been attuned to for years. Since they were children. Now they are alone and the team has been dismissed for the evening, he ejects from his chair. He turns his back on her and Riza watches as he runs a hand through his hair. It disrupts the strands and leaves them sticking up in all directions. Even with him facing away, Riza can picture the way his eyes tighten with strain. How his jaw tightens as he bites back words he so desperately wishes to voice but won’t – whether it is due to professional reasons, Riza is unsure. That is the only mystery hidden from her now.

She knows.

Riza understands.

They once had an eerily similar argument beneath the streets of Central. It’s almost like déjà vu as she stands here now, but there is a startling difference between them. There always has been. He is the most important piece. The valuable player which cannot be sacrificed – while she is the one who can.

(In her eyes only, it seems.)

That is irrelevant, he would insist. Because to him, she could never be something to throw away. To him, she is the most important thing.

The most precious thing.

Riza remembers the tears, the impossible promises he whispered in her ear as she lay there, dying –

She remembers how he told Havoc he’d see him at the top after he lost the use of his legs – and how that vision came true. How determined he was to see it happen.

Perhaps….

No.

Their wants and desires, no matter how burning and all consuming they can feel sometimes, were forfeited when they stepped foot on the eastern sands in Ishval. They count for nought nowadays. After everything, they are irrelevant. Just pawns in a game which he needs to be the figurehead of. To ensure no one lives through what they did. To ensure such a rise to power cannot happen again, even as they now know the truth of what was behind it.

And really, the assignment today was easy. Easy for them, as a team. There was no real threat. But things still turned slightly south. And Riza knows after almost losing her the way he did beneath Central, Roy still struggles with the concept of it, and that stray bullet today sparked a new bought of worry. A new slew of worries. Nightmares. She knows he still fears it even though they both know they have no right to.

But in the end, they’re both human at their core.

Monsters, but human beneath all of that and all they have committed.

So, Riza understands his worry. His concern. She sympathises with it, because Riza knows if their positions had been reversed, and it had been him who’d thrown himself in front of an attacker on her behalf, Riza would be just as angry. Incised.

Scared.

In the silence of the office, the feeling permeates the room.

When the Colonel turns around –

No.

When Roy turns around –

The weight of everything settles upon him. The threat of her loss. The perceived misjudgement on his end.

“Why would you put yourself in danger?!” All his feelings burst forth from him, now they are finally alone. Without abandon and without hesitation. Anger. Fear. Helplessness.

And of all the questions, that’s what he leads with.

“To protect you.” Riza answers him evenly, but on the inside, she is quaking. For she too had almost lost it all on the Promised Day. Herself… And him. When he’d passed through the gate, she’d never felt fear like it. And as she recognises his struggle, his strife, she cannot help but relate to what she’d once felt too in a similar situation.

True, debilitating fear.

“That’s my job!”

Silence fills the room.

It sucks all the air from the room.

…

As her superior, yes, it is. He has a duty of care.

But…

It is she who is the bodyguard. The expendable one.

The less important one.

They’d been through this.

“Sir –”

“I ordered you to live, Lieutenant,” he interrupts. Tone demanding. Sure. Solid. As he always is and as Riza had always admired of him.

He rarely interrupted her. In fact, Riza couldn’t remember a time he ever had before. Even as excitable as he was as a child. He was always ready to listen and let her speak – a novelty Riza had never been offered before him.

“I ordered you not to die.” His eyes are as hard as flints as he stares her down, unflinching in his resolve.

“Sir, it is my job to protect you. That has never changed,” she offers softly. “That has always been my duty to you.”

“Yet, I still gave you an order, Lieutenant.”

He was determined in this, it seems.

Riza feels…

She doesn’t know.

She understands, and yet, how can she do her job, the position she signed on to do, if he is always going to berate her every time for it? Especially now, with the added history from within those cursed tunnels on top of it?

There had to be some give somewhere.

Riza doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to see that option, but it doesn’t matter. For both their sakes, for the sake of all they forged ahead to accomplish, it has to happen. There has to be a relent, otherwise they’ll both be stuck in this office until the end of time, going back and forth with one another.

So, ever the dutiful soldier, Riza accepts his berating. His harshness (which is really his worry). She should demand better, Riza knows this, but what right does she have, really? He can’t reach his goal without her, and she can’t do it without him.

A never ending, impossible cycle.

One of them has to give eventually.

Riza has learned that over the years most of all. Otherwise, they’ll never progress.

“Of course, sir.” She dips her head low in acknowledgement and shame. Even if she can’t wholly, truly, admit her own fault to it, it is the only way forward for them. So he can achieve their goal. “Apologies, sir.”

He offers nothing further. Riza says nothing either.

She isn’t particularly finished in her work for the day, but exhausted and needing away from this office – and all the knows she inherently must sacrifice, despite it going against her deepest and most hidden, unvoiced fears – Riza acquiesces and collects her things.

And she leaves.

* * * * * * *

A knock sounds at Riza’s door late that night.

She isn’t expecting anyone. Her training over the years dictates she collect her gun and watch the shadows, but Hayate’s ears perking up, accompanied by a happy smile, his bark and a whine, indicates it’s a friend.

His best friend, actually.

Surprise laces Riza’s blood as she peers through the peephole, then opens the door.

Her Colonel smiles at her.

“Forgive me, Lieutenant,” he murmurs quietly. “I owe you an apology.”

He owes her no such thing.

Silly man.

Still, this is a conversation for private walls. Not the confines of the hallway of her apartment building.

“Come in, sir.”

As she takes his jacket Hayate jumps around him excitedly. His second favourite person in the world is here with him, so how could he not? As Riza ushers her Colonel through to her living room Hayate follows on his heels obediently, never letting him out of his sight as he gazes adoringly up at Roy.

“Would you like a drink?”

“A water would be lovely, thank you.”

Hayate is in his lap, receiving constant pets, when Riza finally hands the glass to him.

“You say you owed me an apology?” Riza ensures she inflicts enough confusion into her tone once she’s finally settled into the corner of her couch, knees tucked beneath her.

Roy nods. “I was harsh with you earlier today.”

“You were fair. It was understandable.”

“No, I was unfair. I was selfish.”

Riza shakes her head, already exasperated. They’re already jumping into their back and forth, it seems. “Sir, no.”

“Lieutenant.”

When he says her rank like that… As if it is her name. Like a caress, deep within the night. Where only sleep and warm sheets keep them company.

“I was unfair.”

Riza opts for silence, letting him speak.

“I…” Roy clears his throat. “I still struggle with you leaving me. In any kind of capacity. As you can probably imagine. As you have admitted to me you feel similarly in the past. Which is why I issued you that order. Which is why I feel like…” He laughs quietly to himself. Bitterly. “It may have saved your life. If I am so naive to think so. But sometimes it is nice to indulge.” He lifts his eyes to meet hers. And the emotion within them is stark and bare. “I cannot live on without you, Riza. That is why I was so harsh today.”

The whole room grows still.

Unfair? Perhaps.

But Riza knows fear intimately. It knows no rules, no boundaries.

“I was terrified.”

He admits it so shamelessly to her face.

It is always a hidden thought within Riza’s mind. After all she’d witnessed on the Promised Day, it sparks a thought of… something, a hope, but never something to this magnitude. It is difficult for her to reconcile those types of thoughts to her entire being… That she may hold that sort of magnitude, worth, importance, to another… And yet, this man across from her, after all they’d endured, admits it so easily to her. Shows it so easily too, in his actions within their workplace. Simply because he cannot openly voice it in public.

She was the expendable one. As a child. As an adult –

Not to him. Never to him.

“I apologise. I was unnecessarily harsh.”

“You never are. You are always kind, sir.”

Far kinder than she ever deserved.

He blinks at her, before a laugh leaves him. “Kind,” he echoes.

A hint of bitterness laced within.

“Yes, Roy,” Riza replied earnestly. “You always were. Always are.”

He appears to infer what she means behind her words. Realisation washes over him, and he nods.

“I always wished I could be more.”

…

Maybe if things were different…

“I know.”

Riza knows.

If everything was different, she would have taken matters into her own hands by now.

“I would have married you, you know.”

Riza is stunned into silence. He’s never spoken so brazenly before.

“I would have saved up every cenz I ever acquired and approached your father for permission to do so.” His face turns up towards the ceiling as his hand runs soothingly down Hayate’s back. The pup is drowsy with the attention from him. “Even if he said no, forbid it after my defection to the military, I would have found a way. I would have forsaken my path and opted for one he approved of… I think.” His smile turned wistful. “Regardless, I would have returned for you.” His eyes were burning like hot coals when he turns to face Riza. “You always were, and always are, everything to me, Riza Hawkeye.”

She is left in a stun. Her throat runs dry. Eyes pricking with heat, but nothing falling.

He has never admitted it to her so openly before.

There have been inklings, of course. Hints she could have easily picked up on, because how could not have? But…

The mention of it causes her heart to swell.

Makes it ache.

…

For what could have been.

For what they could have both had together.

…

But now…

He loves her.

As he loves him.

Quietly. Supportively. In a way that they will both endure to ensure the other lives. Survives. Sees their joint goals realised.

Together.

“Really?”

“Of course.”

His reply is instantaneous. The words barely left her mouth. It is as if he’d bottled them up for years beforehand, ready to let them loose at the earliest opportunity.

Despite the age-old fears which wage wars within her mind, how could Riza argue or doubt his quick words? The determination in his face? The resolve within his eyes?

“Forever?” Riza whispers it, despite herself. Like an uncertain child.

But Roy indulges her, as he always does. As he always understands her.

“Yes.”

“Together?”

“Until the end of time, Riza. Should the universe permit it.” His gaze meets hers, filled with absolution. “I would never leave you. Not willingly.”

Her heart soars.

Threatens to burst from her chest.

“And I too, Roy. Forever.”

His smile softens. He leans forward, closer to her on the couch. He is now hovering over Hayate.

“So, live then, Lieutenant. That’s an order. So we may live together.”

Upon her couch, in the privacy of her own home, his lips are but a breadth from her own.

It makes her breath hitch.

“Forever.”

Riza smirks at him. “It shall be my honour, sir.”

Before she kisses him.

likes and comments are much appreciated!! :)

read the rest on ao3

#royai #royai fic #royai fanfic #megthemighty #ask #writing prompt #emma writes #also i'm far too deep into my cups to properly edit so if u see any mistakes..... no u don't :)

29 notes · View notes

wrenhavenriver · 2 years

Note

the "there's a hole in the world" line really gets me too!! I can't pin down why, it just conveys this sense of melancholy that dishonored is so resplendent with to me. do you have any personal interpretations about the line?

Yes, it's absolutely a melancholy line. It evokes a very specific flavor of despair for me - that realization of "this world is held together by rubber bands and chewing gum" that comes from seeing all the entrenched injustices and senseless cruelties and uncontrolled disasters recurring day in and day out. It's that semi-hysterical moment of sinking realization that maybe nobody really is flying the plane, so to speak, and that things are terribly, dangerously wrong.

But that despair isn't an endpoint. The full wording of the quote as it appears in the first Dishonored--"You wanted me to decide. You asked me to do it. There's a hole in the world," scrawled on the floor of Granny Rags's old apartment, possibly written by her--also speaks to me of someone being cornered into a certain life and given an ultimatum to conform or fall in line, being told that that's just how the world is, how things are, so it's how things always have to be. And that person then looking at that decision that's been made for them and saying, actually, you're full of shit, everything that you tell me is set in stone--these rules and roles--are arbitrary and changeable and rotten, and I don't have to participate in them. Or, as the Outsider describes: "I watched her consider [her suitors], measure their worth, and find them wanting. Then she made a different choice"--in essence, she chose a different life than the one that was meant/allowed for her. If there's a hole in the world, in the very fabric of reality, how could something as petty as a society’s prescribed mores and roles and systems of power, however entrenched, be exempt, immutable? Again, as the Outsider says, “eventually all bridges [must] tumble down.” This conversation between two guests at Lady Boyle's party--the same mission you find Granny Rags' apartment and the "there's a hole in the world" graffiti--also sums this up quite neatly:

Guest One: We found out what the whales could do and it made us an Empire. This is the beginning of a golden age! Guest Two: Do you know they've found the ruins of another city under this one? Before the Overseers, before anything. I bet they thought they were living in a golden age, too.

And while Granny “Slackjaw Soup Potager” Rags isn't exactly a, uh, benevolent character, she's hardly the only example of a person staring down the role that has been assigned to them and realizing that there’s a choice to be made, one that certain people are very invested in them not realizing they have at all. Because honestly the game as a whole is built on that premise. Corvo experiences some of the most acute suffering the world has to offer (the love of his life is murdered in front of him, his young daughter is kidnapped, and he's publicly blamed for both things and then imprisoned and tortured daily for months), and then Havelock hands him a blade and tells him that "Assassination is dark business, but sometimes good men have to do bad things to make the world right," when Corvo’s whole adult life until now has been about protecting people, not killing them. And, to be clear, you can kill all those targets--so long as you aren’t unnecessarily brutal about it on the way, you can do so and still get the best ending for the city and keep your allies’ esteem--but that’s also what the main loyalist trio, and to an extent the world as a whole, expects of Corvo and assumes he will do, what he will want. You’ve suffered this pain and that loss and that violence, so of course you’ll want to kill persons A B and C (and doesn’t that align so nicely with my goals...).

But the Outsider, for one, isn’t all that impressed with you if you do. For all that he plays up the “impartial observer, just here for the show” vibe, his language in high chaos shrine speeches is often less than favorable (a very lukewarm/unconvinced “I suppose I should thank you” for killing Campbell in mission 2, a sarcastic “what [other] choice did you have?” for a lethal mission 5, questioning if Corvo even knows why he killed Daud in mission 7). Because, after all, that is the expected route, the way the world “works,” the exact thing the Outsider’s had a front row seat to for thousands of years. It’s when Corvo ignores those expectations and takes the route that hasn’t been planned out for him by someone else that the Outsider--among others--is most impressed. It’s what sparks the Outsider’s delighted “You fascinate me” and the quiet awe of Daud’s “And you choose mercy. Extraordinary.” It’s Callista’s relief and joy that a man who was meant to be an assassin on a single-minded mission took the time and trouble to save a life--her uncle’s--on the way to possibly taking someone else’s. It’s even Pendleton’s mitigated grief at the possibility of seeing his brothers again and the remaining Boyle sisters’ thanks for having a family left at all.

tl;dr: uhhhhhhhhh it's about despair and societal injustice and that feeling you get sitting on the toilet at 2 in the morning when you can’t sleep because the world seems to be collapsing but it’s also about autonomy and hope and saying fuck you to people who say that things have to be this way because they want to control you for their own ends, and how existence is fundamentally chaotic and full of suffering but the fact that it’s all a bunch of made up bullshit means that you’re free to make things less bullshit, yes this post represents ten years of overthinking about this game where are you going

tl;dr for the tl;dr:

#this is probably incoherent but i've been staring at this screen for like an hour and a half so. yeet #asks #misopossum

139 notes · View notes

subrenaspade · 1 year

Text

Twisted Wonderland x Reader :No Place For Children Prologue

This story is just some cute fluff I thought that some of you all would enjoy. There might be some cursing, that's all I can think of at the moment. The reader does have a bit of a backstory, giving her a little bit of OC vibes, but besides some background elements the rest is up to you. I only write Female, if that bothers you I'm sorry, I'm used to writing female and I keep having to go back to take away she/her pronouns.

I do plan to make a series but more along the lines of while in this dorm for one chapter then while in this dorm for this other chapter.

A little background about the MC in my story so you're not all too lost. The MC used to suffer from androphobia (A fear of men), that has to do with some past trauma That I might go into more detail about later on if I decide to continue this story. The MC is also a Orphan losing her father at four, then her mother at fourteen, so there will be mention of family. The MC spent all her time in foster care, due to her mother being an orphan herself and her fathers family disowning him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I read over the list of ingredients we are supposed to use for the potion we were assigned to make. This lesson was a little different since our first year classes were all merged, leaving each group with seven to eight in each group. Obviously I and the One brain cell trio grouped up with Epel, Jack, and Sebek. I knew better than I really did, but I still let myself get talked into joining this disaster of a group.

“Do we have the hog snout out?” I asked, turning around to look at the group. Sebek was arguing with Ace and Grim about who would win in a game of basketball, some unknown athlete to me in this world or Malleus (who I am 95% sure doesn't know what basketball is…. Maybe Sebek too). Epel and Deuce were talking about their next meet for track and next game of spell drive. The only one who seemed to pay a little attention to me was Jack, whose ears perked up a little at my question. He walked to the laid out supplies and looked at me giving me a nod.

“We should be ready to start the spell.” Jack said loudly to get the others' attention. They all looked at the two of us who returned their wide eyed stares with deadpan faces.

“Right! We are making a spell to increase one's height.” Sebek's voice bellowed, earning a SHHH!! From the other students around us. I rolled my eyes and smiled at the baffled expression he had.

“Okay, since I have no magic I will help with stirring and measuring out the ingredients.” I said as I passed the page with the spell on it to the rest of the group.

“Sounds good to me. We can all cast the spell and some of us will stir with you while some of the others can help you with the supplies.” Epel said, looking at the group. Grim jumped from Ace’s shoulder to the high chair we had out for him since he wasn't allowed to touch the ingredients (Last time some of his hair got caught on some of the ingredients and ended up turning us all into beastmen for a few weeks).

At first everything was going okay, no arguments, no bickering, no clumsy mishaps. However, that all ended when Deuce muttered the wrong word, causing the potion to turn green. We all stopped as we held our breath. Slowly the potion started to steam, coming to a rolling boil. We all stepped back from it with wide eyes. I saw that Grim was still looking into the cauldron with a fascinated gaze. I gasped as I rushed over grabbing ahold of him, much to the protests of my group mates. At that moment the cauldron started to shake as if a time bomb was about to go off. I saw it turn pink and in an attempt to save Grim I flung him at Jack who caught him on instinct.

The second I saw Grim land in Jack's arms, I heard a booming puff sound. Smoke surrounded me and as much as I tried to hold my breath, I was too shocked to do so for so long. I succumbed to the drowsiness that engulfed my entire being….. Letting the exclaims of my friends and Professor Crewel be the last thing I remembered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~Third POV~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Everyone was able to avoid the smoke that had only engulfed the perfect. With a wave of his pen, Professor Crewel had summoned a huge gust of wind to push the smoke out of the room. They all watched the area they last saw the Perfect, just before the explosion of magic.

“(Name)! Are you okay!?” Ace called out into the cloud of magic. Finally the smoke was all cleared out and all they saw… was a pile of clothes on the ground.

“O-Oh no! I-I killed (Name)!!” Deuce almost wailed. The pile of clothes moved, making everyone gasp. Through the layers of fabric and cloth a small head poked out. A little girl with messed up hair and tired (color) eyes that scanned the area as if dazed. Even though this was a child they all knew who it was the second thE little girl peeked out of the baggy clothing.

“(name)?” Was all that they could say. The girl who was still dazed tilted her head at them all as if confused. She reached up and rubbed her tired eyes.

“Where am I?” She muttered, seeming to look around for someone.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN WHERE ARE YOU?” Sebek screamed. To everyone it sounded like thunder breaking through the silence, However to the little girl it was like a tornado hitting the ground. She threw her hands to her ears and let out a whimper. This had seemed to wake the poor thing up, cause her eyes widened as she registered completely she was not where she was supposed to be. She flew to her shaky legs like a doe taking its first steps. The shirt and coat she was wearing made a dress on her.

“Mom!!” The girl called looking frantically around. Her eyes were starting to turn watery and her lip quivered as she tried not to cry in panic.

“H-Hey it's okay..” Jack tried to ease the girl's fear, however his big structure seemed to only scare the girl more as she whimpered, stepping back from him. Jack's tail tucked itself between his legs and his ears flattened against his head. He stepped back trying not to take the scared little girl's reaction to heart.

Crewel started to usher the other students out of the room to try and make less eyes on the petrified child. While he did this the group of guys that the girl (Unknowingly) called friends stayed to try and calm her down. Though none of them seemed to have any real success in doing that.

Finally Ace let out a sigh and kneeled in front of the small child who was at this point huddled in a corner at this point. He looked her in the eyes as much as she would allow and urged himself to let out a calm and gentle voice, trying to hide his own fear and the weaver in his voice.

“(Name) right?” The girl perked up at her name, shifting her eyes to meet his head on. He smiled at her. “I’m Ace… Ace Trappola. Sorry, we were trying to be more quiet….. But got carried away. Your mom had to go on a business trip for a few days… Do you remember that?” Ace asked, letting the white lie do its thing. The girl's eyebrows scrunched together in confusion as she tilted her head. She shook her head. “She must have forgotten to tell you then. Your mother is a doctor right?” He asked. (Name) gave nothing away, waiting for him to continue. “She had to go to another hospital far away to help someone. She said it was urgent. You're here since the hea– I mean Crowley offered to babysit you.” Her shoulders loosened up as if the white lie that Ace fed her gave her a form of comfort like a blanket.

“H-How do I know you're not lying?” She asked and adjusted her posture a little as if she was ready to defend herself. Ace felt a cold sweat run down his neck… how can he show her that it wasn't a lie…. Even though it was. He finally thought of something, he met her eyes.

“Remind me…. How old are you? 4? 5?” He asked. She pursed her lips as if trying to figure out what he was playing at. She held up five fingers, making his heart break a little for bringing up such a horrible time for her. “Your father…. He passed away not too long ago, right?” He asked. The girl's eyes widened and her lips quivered. She nodded her head as if speaking would cause her voice to break. “He used to sing you a song whenever you were sick or couldn't sleep… (Favorite song). It's yours and his favorite song.” He said. The girls looked down, nodding weakly at his question. He reached out and patted the little girl's head. “From what I heard… he was a really good guy..” Ace offered to try to comfort a child (Though didn't know) who had no one in this world outside of these school grounds.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Time Skip~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What is the meaning of this emergency meeting?” Riddle asked, agitated that his schedule had to be changed at such short notice.

“I am also curious… Mostro Lounge is about to get a big wave of customers… Having me and my vice house warden here will be difficult for the employees.” Azul started looking over at Jade who politely smiled.

All the housewardens and vice house wardens were gathered around Crowley's office. Crowely sat at his desk, leaning against his hands as if contemplating something. Finally he let out a long sigh, leaning back into his chair. “There seems to have been an accident involving the perfect…….” Crowley said in a grievous voice. Everyone tensed up at the statement.

“I-Is she hurt? Where is she, does she need medical care!?” Kalim shot questions out faster than anyone could answer. Crowley raised his hand up, making Kalim stop talking.

“I should inform you that she is uninjured…. However….. There is a bit of a problem.” Crowley stood up. He flinched slightly at the sound of thunder and lighting. Everyone turned to look at Malleus who seemed to be trying to control his rage.

“Where. Is. She.” Malleus glowered at the head mage who fought the urge to shake in fear.

“S-She is outside… Um..” Crowley walked over to the door and opened it, peeking out. “Crewel, bring her in please.” Crowley requested, stepping back as the white and black haired professor walked in. The second he stepped foot in the room everyone gawked at him. A child in a pair of shorts and a black shirt had her arms wrapped around his neck as he held her in his arms. Her messy hair had been straightened out. Her head turned as she looked at all the shocked boys in the room. Crewel set her down on the ground where she moved to hide behind him in a shy manner. She clung to his long furry coat as she looked over the new environment.

“Is THAT the potato..” Vil asked in shock. Crowely nodded his head, letting out a grieving sigh.

“There was an accident in Alchemy today involving some of your first years leading to her being turned back to five….. She had no memory of who she is now or who we are… Right now she is who she was when she was just a five year old girl..” Crewel stated, patting the little girl's head in an attempt to persuade her from hiding. She looked at him and nodded, though she still looked really nervous. She stepped out of her hiding spot and looked down to the ground fiddling with the hem of her shirt.

“I-I am (Full name)... I-It's nice to meet you..” She said in her shaky voice. She looked up at them through her lashes as a shy blush adorned her face. Her cute expression turned out to be too much for someone.

“AWWWWW You are so cute!” Kalim flung his arms at her. She yelped as he threw her up and nuzzled into her. She had tensed up at the sudden outburst and affection he was showering her with.

“KALIM! SHOW SOME RESTRAINT!!! YOU ARE SCARING HER!!” Jamil scolded in a firm voice. Kalim froze, pulling back to take in the shaken expression the little girl was giving him. He was about to place her down when another pair of arms hoisted her up.

“So what are we going to do with the herbivore?” Leona asked as he eyed the girl up and down. He held her at arm length, making it a really uncomfortable experience for her. The room went quiet, they all stared at her…. Like they were expecting something.

“Um….. can you put me down please?” She asked. Leona tilted his head at her as if asking what she was going to do about it. He let out a growl as she was yanked from his grasp. She looked up at the man cradling her, Lillia smiled down at her as if he was excited to hold her.

“She can stay with us obviously.” Lillia claimed, clearly excited to play the role of adoptive father.

“Well, we were going to dump- I mean entrust her to all of you. Crewel knows how to turn her back, however he needs an ingredient that will take about two weeks to get here. Until then she will stay a few days in each dorm, since it was a group effort from some of your first years to do this to her.” Crowley explained. They all snapped their heads in his direction.

“W-What!? What do we know about watching a child!?” Idia exclaimed through his tablet.

“You're all housewardens. You know, responsibility. We can't keep an eye on her all the time since we have a lot of work so you all should be able to watch one child for a few days.” Crowley chimed, making everyone, even the little girl who at the moment knew nothing about him give him a blank stare. I mean…. He could have worded that better. He coughed in his hand and straitened his posture. “She will stay in Heartslabyul for the next three days, then Savanaclaw, then Octavinelle, then Scarabia, then Pomefiore, then Ignahyde, then Diasomnia. In that order.” He pointed to the members of said houses as he went along. They all sighed when they realized that there was no talking him out of this.

“I'm sorry….” The little girl mumbled. They all looked at her, but Rook was the one to speak up first.

“What do you mean little trickster?” Rook asked.

“For causing so much trouble… everyone seems to be really upset with me…” She muttered looking down in guilt.

“I-It's not you! Not at all! It's just a lot to take in right now!” Kalim said, trying to comfort the guilt filled girl. She met his gaze with an expression that clearly declared that she didn't believe him. Lillia moved her around in his arms to get her to lean against his shoulder. He stroked her back and hummed a light tune. She moved her hands to cling to the fae’s uniform and nuzzle into the fabric on his shoulder. She couldn't explain it but something about the way he cradled her in a comforting manner made her tired.

“No one here would ever think of you as trouble, little one.” Lillia muttered. She let out a small hum, indicating that she heard him, though everyone was pretty sure that she didn't really hear what he said. He let out a chuckle as he started to rock her back and forth. “You seem to have had a long morning. Go ahead and rest for a little bit” He soothed her with his voice. After a few minutes of rocking the girl's body went completely limp in his hold as she fell to the temptation of sleep. Lillia let a huge grin plaster itself on his face, happy to have another chance to hold a child again. He looked back at all the young men in the room who gawked at him and his skill with children.

“How did you manage that?” Idia asked. Lillia let a chuckle ring out as he looked at all the shocked faces.

“Just have a way with kids.” He said, rubbing the sleeping girls back. Rook took a step closer getting a better look at (Names) face as she slept. He narrowed his eyes as he grinned at her, reaching out for a strand of her hair.

“I knew she would be the most beautiful little girl in the world.” Rook cooed quietly as he brought her hair to his lips, placing a gentle kiss.

“Hey, giant lizard. You were talking all high and mighty. Why are you hiding in a corner?” Leona glanced at the tall male with horns.

Malleus kept a watchful eye on the young girl, but kept a distance. He was used to people running from him or fearing him. However the one person in this world who didn’t fear or run from him didn't know him. He didn't know if his heart could take the cold rejection of the little girl who he considered his closest friend. He crossed his arms coolly as he brushed off the beastmans question.

Lillia gave him a knowing smile as he appeared beside him, gently shoving the little girl into Malleus’s arms. The girl shifted her head a little as Malleus wrapped his arms around her. Her eyes opened for a second, meeting his shocked gaze. She gently smiled at him as she closed her eyes, leaning into him. Though he was still stiff, his expression loosened slightly as the small child cuddled into him. A gentle smile showed on his face as he stared down at the (Name).

“You always surprise me..” he muttered quietly as he tried to mimic Lillia’s rocking skills.

“This brings another question, where will she sleep?” Riddle asked, watching the child.

“Well with the housewardens.” All the males looked at him again with wide eyes. Crowley placed his hands on his hips. “It only makes since, the housewardens have a room all to them selves, not to mention huge beds to boot. Sharing a little of that room wont hurt any of you.” Crowley explained. Before anyone could talk back, he straitened his posture and walked over to Malleus who still held the child in his hands. He moved his hand to stroke the childs hair out of her face. “A small thing with nothing, sleeping alone in a new environment will surely be a scary experience for her. However if she is surrounded by a bunch of strangers it might be overwhelming. Having one person will be good for her and comfort her.” He continued his explanation. If any of the boys had any objections, it died in their throats. It made since, to all of them. “Now, I do have some work I need to finish.” Crowley said, ushering the students out of the room.

“What about clothes?” Trey got in as they were shoved out.

“Oh, crewel Has that covered.” Crowley chirped as he closed his doors. The boys all sighed as they stared at the shut doors, then turned to the girl in Malleus’s arms. Trey moved forward, holding his arms out.

“I’ll go ahead and take her since she is coming to our dorm for a few days.” Trey offered. Malleus moved back a little, reluctant to let the child go. Lillia moved behind Malleus, giving him a pat on the back. A sigh left his lips as he begrudgingly gave the girl over to him. Riddle moved beside Trey, getting a better look of her.

“It's hard to believe this little girl is our (Name).” Riddle muttered as he crossed his arms. A sigh left his nose as he looked to the side with a scowl on his face. “Remind me to punish Ace and Deuce when we return to the dorm.” Riddle said to Trey, earning a nervous laugh from said man.

37 notes · View notes

not-alien-girl-v · 2 years

Text

Evans Height HCs

ok so i usually don’t do this but i’ve seen posts about this before and they only really rank the evans in height from tallest to shortest so today i’m giving actual heights that i headcanon let’s get started

Tate: ok he is cocky but not like an over 6 foot type cocky, but also not like a 5’5 kind of cocky, so i’m giving him a fair 5’10, only an inch shorter than evan actually is so it seems alright, because like he’s confident, but not in a super tall guy kind of way

Kit: i’m feeling like a solid 6’0 maybe even 6’1 if i’m being generous and i think he somewhat enjoys his height like he doesn’t try to make it his whole personality or anything but he’s comfortable in the fact that in some cases he can tower over people and in some cases he’s only just a little bit taller than others, but in general he’s a really confident guy so i feel like it’s just not something he’s ever concerned himself too much with

Frat Kyle: something about being a frat boy just screams 5’9 to me but in a negative way. like i mean this as an insult to frat boys, even though i love kyle with my whole heart, he is definitely not over 6’0 and i think he’d lie about his height just a little bit like he’d say 5’10 maybe 5’11 just to impress people a little bit. just don’t break out the tape measurer or else words will be had

Franken Kyle: now hear me out on this. he was given a new body. like completely new shit. madison and zoe did not know who the fuck they were putting together, they just saw a handsome face and ran with it. 6’1. i think something in the reconstruction gave him a few extra inches and it would really help sell the whole murderous monster thing to be taller than 5’9. i don’t know i just think it could happen

Jimmy: i think he’s 5’11. because i feel like we were sold the whole ‘other than his hands he is the most attractive man’ and i think that includes him not being super short or super tall. he’s a little on the taller side but just like. not all the way up there with it

James: bless his soul but this man is just a little guy. not like SUPER small. but he is probably 5’8 or 5’7. and let’s be real does it even matter id still smash no questions asked. but he just isn’t very large. hope you all feel these vibes. once again he has that confidence and he puts together his look very nicely and that’s what pulls all his bitches so it does not matter what his height is but let’s be real. 5’8 at the most

Rory: never seen this season. someone on tiktok assigned this season to my zodiac sign (aries) and that pissed me off so i’m giving him 5’6. deal with it. fuck gingers

Kai: i know a lot of people say this and that’s because it’s correct but kai is the tallest. like he is giving TALL energy. like 6’4 at least maybe even 6’5. and hear me out on this so precult he was just this weird nerd incel thing and he had the potential to be hot he just wasn’t doing that yet. have you guys met nerds in real life. some of them get pretty big i can speak from personal experience also it totally works out with his intimidation tough guy thing, just being an absolute mountain of a man, i’d be scared but id still smash

Mr. Gallant: twink. 5’7. let’s move on

Jeff: 5’6. shortest evan and it’s so obvious. he gives off little man vibes. i know i said some nerds can get kinda huge but he is not one of them. little man. let’s move on

*moment of silence for the lack of evan peters in 1984*

Austin: 5’8. he’s comfy with it. he’s cool. it’s no big deal and it’s just not his biggest concern in any way. unrelated but does anyone remember when he said ‘i’m hungies 🥺’ that ruined me. i can never forgive austin for that.

#evan peters fanfiction #tate langdon #ahs #american horror story #kit walker #kyle spencer #jimmy darling #james patrick march #rory monahan #kai anderson #mr gallant #jeff pfister #austin sommers

85 notes · View notes

phantomrose96 · 2 years

Note

Heya! I've been reading ABOT for the last couple weeks, i even got my partner reading it too! it's the first mp100 fic i've read and i think it's spoiled me rotten with how good it is. /pos i just wanted to say thank you for writing so much and giving us such a fantastic story to read. it even made me cry at one point (Teruki's backstory) which is crazy because i almost never cry over fics!

i did want to say it's funny, my european partner could tell you were more familiar with american cooking because reigen used imperial measuring cups/spoons, and used a pot rather than a rice cooker -- i mean no shade by it, we love your writing and storytelling, just something i found interesting as a reader.

Anyway i hope you have a lovely day and i look forward to reading more of your work in the future!

(ABoT)

Ahhhh (❁´◡`❁) thank you!!!!! It's absolutely my pleasure! I (and I hope this is apparent in the writing) really care about this story and I've been pouring a lot into it, so OTHER people getting invested with me is really gratifying. (And it's always an honor to get the "I cried and I don't usually cry" award.) I have... a lot of feelings about Teruki's character.

jfdbdf AAAF - Assigned American At Fanfic. It feels like there's this little gray area of like "the fic is in English, which you should just sort of assume is colloquially-translated Japanese" but on the other hand stuff like units probably should remain in the Japanese standard but some things slip through. I think my bigger gambles are certain setting choices I vibe with so strongly and then go "hmm, I hope this is not actually a kind of place which only exists in America." (me desperately asking Google to confirm that Japan has any of those kinds of Big Malls you find in suburban America, because 2020 quarantined me was yearning so hard for The Mall I was gonna die.)

But anyway, dfjhdf thank you!!!

#ask #abot #a breach of trust #if i REALLY wanted to in-universe-explain i could say Reigen's rice cooker got haunted and he had to bury it in concrete #leaving him to cook rice in a pot #and maybe he thrifted all his cookware second-hand from someone with imperial measuring utensils and reigen just approximates

48 notes · View notes

majorbaby · 1 year

Note

if your still doing these, my unpopular opinion is that a lot of the hype around characters that aren't Hawkeye, BJ and Trapper feels very shallow. There is only a few people that actually make thoughtful commentary or general fanwork about Klinger and Margaret. I give the benefit of the doubt to people who scream happily about very minor characters such as Nurse Kellye or Oliver, because they hardly appear, but otherwise? Seems fake.

oh yeah, the door is still open for anyone who want to send one in.

so this is highly subjective but i think i understand the vibe you're talking about. and while i don't think it's worth getting really worked up about, i think it's good to notice these things and point them out... that's generally my MO lol.

i'm trying to think of a way to put it in practical, even measurable terms... well, @thebreakfastgenie pointed out one time that margaret has a lot going on for her, canonically in terms of repression, but that trait gets assigned to BJ a lot (which in and of itself isn't wrong. i'm not saying anyone should feel bad about it) even though it's mostly a headcanon and margaret is right there looking into the camera telling us "i'm repressed"

with klinger i think his being militantly (no pun intended) anti-military, more so than any other character with the exception of hawkeye, who i would argue is his equal, tends to be overlooked. i even think he deserves more credit for this attitude than trapper does. like in the great fandom civil war of 'who was a better partner for hawkeye' klinger is the character who, imo, checks the most boxes: was there the whole time, did not leave without saying goodbye, shares similar core values, does countless acts of love and kindness towards hawkeye, direct action against the army...

most of the time, i don't think this is nefarious. like i don't think anyone is consciously thinking to themselves "i am going to purposely ignore margaret and make a meme or write a fic about repressed beej". i think it's unconscious bias, which is why it's important that anyone who notices it happening point it out and maybe generate the content you think is missing from the space. the more you introduce alternative perspectives, narratives and experiences the more likely it is people are to break from their standard ways of thinking. on the flip side of that, the more our 'notions' are reinforced, by media, by people in our immediate surroundings, by people online, the less likely we are to challenge them.

this is what "representation is important" was originally meant to do. unconscious bias is responsible for so many of our 'notions' that we can't really explain e.g. picture someone making dinner for their three kids, what gender are they?

now picture a character who has a close relationship with their best friend, they're very affectionate, and perhaps this character is a deeply repressed gay person - what gender are they? what race? what might their personality be like? what do you think they're like in bed?

there's no wrong answer. it could be a man or a woman making dinner, and neither BJ nor margaret have a monopoly on repression, but what are you more likely to think? you can play this game by yourself and no one has to know, but to your point, we tell on ourselves all the time, and other people can pick up on these things.

unfortunately movements like "representation is important" was tied up in a lot of like... yelling at people that they must diversify their tastes and to me this is counterproductive. people change very, very slowly and not in any lasting way when they're motivated by fear or shame. not only are some people more likely to become entrenched in their original views, but you also get what you're describing in your ask - this performance of caring about something in a very shallow way, but no tangible actions to support this, and back pats all around none more affirming than the ones we give ourselves. and that to me is even harder sometimes to unlearn. the idea that you're 'done' dismantling unconscious bias, which is a life-long process.

woooooof, sorry i got kind of carried away there. my final answer is: i agree, i just try to be tactful when pointing it out so as to not do more damage.

#race on mash #replies #re: mash #ask game #mash

19 notes · View notes

five-or-so-missing-children · 3 months

Text

//Pokemon AU Rambling Post

//Wow, this post is long.

Obviously, almost every kid wants to be a trainer. It's cool, like being a pro athlete. I think that also applies to most of these kids, too.

Derek, Chelsea, arguably Ron, and Jack would be the only ones to have actual "battle-ready" Pokemon given their age group, even if they wouldn't be anywhere above Lv15 at the very best.

That said, the only one of them I could imagine with a "proper" starter Pokemon is Derek, and that would be Rowlett. Back when TPC were teasing Gen7, I remember seeing Dartrix and immediately thinking of him, to the point I named my own Rowlett in Ultra Moon after him.

Chelsea would have a Ponyta - from Kanto, because Galar is too new-school. Lowkey Lass energy, probably might also have a Fairy-type that may or may not have been retyped yet, or some kind of Pika-clone. Something just to be cute on top of the more composed and competitive horsey.

Ron and Jack are surprisingly difficult to vibe check Pokemon-wise, but they also overlap a bit... Their Pokemon would be less flashy and impressive. I think Ron would have a baby Pokemon that he's super proud of, even if he is on the less brawny side as his friends at the present. Maybe a Pichu or Togepi. His dad worked very hard to get it for him. I am also inexplicably drawn to Wooloo but that may be my sheep bias talking so I will not say anything for certain.

Jack would probably get something extra from his older brother, Jeff, but nothing impressive. I'm drawn to a lot of Unova Pokemon for him, too... To give it some lore, let's say he picked an elemental monkey, and Jeff went, "You know what, I know how to make your team better," and got him something to cover a weakness. Maybe Blitzle if he picked Pansear, or Drillbur if he picked Panpour/Pansage.

He also feels like he'd have a Ralts. Somehow. But also, I feel that's a bit much/brawny for him.

Jeff is probably old enough to have probably caught a cute little Stufful and raised it long enough for it to evolve into Bewear, and it freaks Jack out sometimes with how destructive it can be.

Luke has Youngster energy. He scrounged together enough money to buy a ball and catch his own Patrat or Lillipup or a bug or something. He probably got a little injured in the process but he's fine, that's just how kids are. He also probably has a family dog Pokemon of some sort at home already.

Will would be the kind of kid though to have befriended something wild at a young age, and also have that thing have stupidly high potential. That said, he also has Espurr energy.

Maybe he'd also "share" something with Derek. Something his older brother caught him and is helping him raise until he's old enough. A bird or bug, perhaps. Natu?

Assigning every kid a Pokemon based on their animatronic would be too easy. :P Besides, there aren't any chicken Pokemon besides Torchic...

Though if I had to assign each kid a proper starter in some kind of "Nobody Dies AU", let's sayyy: Derek = Rowlett, Chelsea = Tepig, Ron = Chikorita, Luke = Charmander, Will = Squirtle, Jack = Piplup.

You also get long rambling about the PGs also because they are my favorite employees. As for my night guards, uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh sorry.

Porfirio is the kind of guy who doesn't stop until he gets what he wants, so the second he learned what shinies are, he would've thrown away hours of his life to get his hands on the perfect one, even as someone too young to have a Pokemon. So he has a Shiny Gourgeist he calls Dyniusia ("Little Pumpkin") almost as old as he is, and it's Super size for good measure. A tall purple Pokemon that kills people and loves to sing - just like its trainer! It's his prized possession and it totally gets him, so that's why it's the only living thing he treats with any genuine sort of affection and comradery. (I don't wanna make anyone mean to Pokemon, that's going too far.) Maybe he would've been a decent competitive trainer if he wasn't such an awful person...

Alexander, on the other hand, is the kind of guy who doesn't have the constitution to be a sporty trainer, but plenty of non-trainers have domestic Pokemon, and he would be no different! He'd have a Chatot. It always comes back to Chatot. He gets talkative when he's anxious, so having a chatty friend to bounce off of feels appropriate! Plus, my perception of Chatot being an organized managerial type has been heavily influenced by PMD... Unfortunately, it works as an emotional support Pokemon as frequently as it doesn't. He might complain to it about a certain person... and then it'll say those things right back to their face. It makes him die a little inside every time, but what can you do?

There would be a lot of Shuppet hanging around the pizzeria (since they're attracted to "vengeful emotions", such as those a group of murdered spirits would have), which… doesn't help its reputation.

Something something Lavender Town.

Something something Phantump.

I think someone should set a Drampa loose in Porfirio's house. I think only good things could come from that.

#long post #ooc tag

4 notes · View notes

letsplayballet · 1 year

Text

so uh. this post didn't get a whole lot of attention but it did get just enough for me to start trying to write some other scenes. this piece is pretty different vibe-wise, and i'm pretty sure it's not done, but i'm tired of looking at it so!!

~*~

“Have I told you that my father was a cop?”

Akira stops, losing his mental grip on the rest of the sentence he’d been writing for his literature assignment for Kawakami. Glancing up from the paper, he sees Makoto sitting tense as a coiled spring on his perpetually dusty couch, knuckles white on her pen, staring through the textbook in front of her as if she could see into the café below their feet. If it weren’t for Morgana’s perked ears from where he’d been half asleep on the table, Akira could almost believe that she hadn’t said anything at all.

It had been a little strange, when Makoto had shown up hours early for their planned infiltration of Futaba’s palace. She’s his teammate, and he trusts her implicitly, is willing to put his life in her hands- if she’d shown up that morning asking him to go backpacking across China with her, he would only have asked if it could wait until after they’d dealt with Medjed. But despite all this, they haven’t had a lot of time to spend together individually, and Akira gets the sense that there’s still a lot he doesn’t know about her as Makoto, as opposed to Queen.

And she hadn’t asked to do anything drastic. Hadn’t asked anything at all, actually. Just stood in the entrance to Leblanc silently, exactly 15 minutes after opening, until Akira (remembering all I am is a burden to her, remembering the faintest gleam of guilty relief in her eyes when telling them I haven’t seen my sister in days) finishes brewing coffee for the both of them and just as silently brings her upstairs to his room.

They’ve been working on their summer homework for nearly an hour, quiet but not uncomfortably so. This is the first either of them has broken the silence, and it’s pretty clear that whatever is on Makoto’s mind has been weighing on her for a while.

Realizing she’s still sitting there, tense and unmoving, Akira clears his throat a little. “Once, I think? You said he’d worked the beat in Shinjuku.”

Makoto lets out a long, measured breath through her nose, and her jaw unclenches ever so slightly. It’s another few moments before she speaks again.

“He was. He was actually a really instrumental part of the Shinjuku Cleanup Operation.”

She stops again. Bites her lip. Her pen shifts slightly in her grasp.

“I… Growing up, I thought of him as a hero, you know? Idolized him, even. I didn’t know much about his job, not really, but between the few things he shared and what I would always see on shows, I definitely had this golden, untouchable image of what he did. Hunting down criminals, bringing justice to the world… I wanted so badly to be just like him.”

There’s a faint, fond wistfulness to her tone that makes Akira intensely grateful for her still-distant gaze, forcing his breathing to remain calm and even as he gently sets his own pen down and hides his shaking hands in his lap. For a moment he’s overwhelmed –

that dark, ugly fury rising up in him, blinding, screaming see, you can’t trust anyone, as if anyone would give a fuck about you when you’re nothing –

the sense memories of hands too-tight grabbing pulling and concrete hard and cold against his face –

until his battle instincts kick in and he’s able to bring his mind back to his body in the (conditional, relative) safety of his attic room. This is Makoto. She’s not an idiot, and she’s not frivolous with her words, still learning she can say more than the bare minimum she absolutely needs to. If she’s saying all this, to him of all people, then there’s something important in there.

Thankfully, Makoto has lapsed into silence again, too lost in organizing her thoughts to notice his slip. He can feel Morgana’s eyes on him, though, and makes a mental note to block out his evening for that conversation just as Makoto continues.

“When he-” she pauses once more, swallows. “When he died on the job, a few years ago, I only became more motivated to follow in his footsteps. I was… so convinced that there was some nigh-unstoppable tide of evil out in the world, that the police were gallant figures holding the line, and if I joined the police I could…”

“You wanted to help people,” Akira says quietly, filling in as Makoto trails off. Like you needed to be helped, he doesn’t continue, because maybe he’s projecting, though the resonance of his bond with her makes him think he probably isn’t.

Makoto gives a little self-deprecating scoff, turning to look at him for the first time. “I’m sure I sound like some naive idiot, don’t I? I even-” she barrels forward, frustration entering her voice, before Akira can even think to say anything in response, “- I would see stories of corrupt officers, mistreatment, false convictions, and every time I would write it off, or come up with excuses. But then I met you, and none of my excuses sat right even before I tried to blackmail you about dealing with Kaneshiro, and when his men grabbed me off the street the cops at the corner just watched as they forced me into the car and -”

The pen in Makoto’s hand snaps loudly, causing all three of them to jump as shards of plastic clatter across the table.

There is a long, frozen moment where everyone stares at her still-clenched fist and the crooked end of the pen barely kept in place by her grip. It’s broken only when Makoto lets out a loud, shuddering breath and drops the ruined remains of the pen to the table. Morgana makes a quiet noise and stands, crossing the table and sliding into her lap as Makoto presses her own hands to her face in an attempt to compose herself.

Akira gives her a minute, gathering and tossing the pen in the trash and wiping up the few stray drops of splattered ink before sitting next to her on the sofa. He leaves a little space, just in case – but it’s quickly closed, Makoto pressing her shoulder against his, Morgana’s purrs loud and soothing between them.

#tbh this comes from a place of wanting to love makoto again #bc i do! i think she's got some great character to her #but she's also... kinda become a microcosm of my frustrations with p5 #(characters making poor decisions for the sake of plot; refusing to acknowledge problems as systemic instead of blaming individuals)#which is unfair to makoto #so the makoto in my p5 def ain't becoming a cop #this explores some of that and touches on some other things that i've already mentally changed but haven't written yet #and yeah. def not done but i need to sleep and it's done enough lol #my fic #persona 5 #akira kurusu #persona 5 protagonist #makoto niijima #morgana #(adding like. real tags this time. just for fun.)#p5 #p5r

16 notes · View notes

weird-dere-writes · 7 months

Note

life can be a struggle but you're doing amazing! Ichigo thinks so too!

being a college student isn't easy with all these classes, assignments, a capstone project, internship, the list goes on! 😮‍💨😔🩵

Thank you, my love 🥺. I’ve been doing my best; having good days and bad ones. It’s hard to believe in yourself at times or to give yourself the grace you deserve. But having Ichigo by my side has definitely helped me to cope during those hard times <3. He doesn’t know just how much I appreciate him and how happy I am to have him. Or maybe he does? Cus I am very physically affectionate in general.

AUGH and college is rough for real. There’s so much to do and so much expected of you and the pressure of what to do with your future is always there. Not to mention the bad vibes it can cause when you start measuring yourself to others and how put together they seem compared to you. Or the financial burden. It can be so so stressful.

I’ve enjoyed this reprieve from that experience since graduating earlier this year, but I do dread having to go back for my master’s rip.

Being that you face those things now, I want you to know you as well are doing so so wonderfully and that I am so so proud of you. You push yourself and you work hard every day, even if you may feel you don’t always do your best work. The looming presence of your study is always on your mind and having to carry that weight is hard. Remember no matter how dramatic you may feel, your struggle is real. And you are so strong and so precious for pushing through it and finding the time to smile while reaching for your goal 💜💜💜.

Byakuya is incredibly proud to stand by you and watch as you grow through this time. He is blown away by the sheer amount of effort you put into this endeavor. Even when the academic crazies hit, he is happy to step in and slow your thoughts down. To offer you a special warmth that can only come from him as he reminds you just how well you are actually doing. He loves you and he will be your academic ride or die until you walk across that stage >:3 🫶🏾🩷🩷🩷🩷.

I kith u 😚💋💋💋

#ichidere #moot ship ⛵️💛#byakujas ⛵️💛#burnishedcrown 🌸#twy’s inbox 💌

3 notes · View notes

maddieautobot273 · 7 months

Text

Silk & Cologne (46)

A Miguel O'Hara x OC series - Link to AO3 (X)

Chapter 46 - Tense - previous chapter (X)

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Female OC

Words: 4.03K words

Warnings: PG for flirting and romantic fluff, slight violence

Summary: Tighter security measures are put in place at the Spider-Society and Lisa worries for Miguel's well-being

///////

The last few days since Miguel brought me back home were. . . tense. Tense and weird. Everyone was on edge after Miguel released a debriefing on the situation with Harry and the collars. The other Spiders agreed to be vigilant and keep their eyes and ears sharp, but there were moments where I felt things were wound a little too tight.

The patrols that monitored the halls almost seemed intimidating whenever I went by. Before if I walked by, all the Spiders within the group would be friendly and say hi back. Now I was lucky if even one was relaxed enough to offer a simple wave.

There were more security cameras installed as well. One at almost every corner. To add more salt to the wound, there were guards posted at almost every entrance to every room in headquarters.

Depending on the room's importance, you had to give the guards your name and they would time stamp your arrival and departure from the room. I felt like I was walking through a secret government building and not a superhero headquarters. The hardest hit security checkpoint was Miguel’s lab.

Petra was assigned as Miguel’s personal security guard for himself, and his lab. Nobody went in or out without her knowing or her saying so. Not Princess Petra of Earth-423, but Petra Parker of Earth-2087.

Cyborg Spider-Woman.

Petra was half human, half cyborg and looked way more tough than Miguel by a landslide. With a metal cannon attached to her right hand, you’d certainly not want to get on her bad side. She fought in a war for years before Miguel approached her about joining the Spider-Society, and she’d never let you forget it.

“Hey, Petra,” I greeted with a friendly smile. “How’s it going?”

“It is going,” She nodded. “It has been quiet today,”

“That’s good! Quiet means all is well then,” I nodded in agreement.

“Perhaps, but perhaps it’s been too quiet,” Her eyelets of her mask suddenly narrow as she looks about the hallway.

I suddenly felt a drop of sweat seep down my neck as I attempted to laugh over the silence. “Don’t be so tense, Petra, if anything, it means you’re. . . doing a great job!”

Petra glances down at me, a sigh of relief fluttering through their mask. “I am glad to hear that, Miss Lisa. You are here to see Miguel, ya?”

“Yes ma’am,” I nodded my head, offering her a friendly salute.

“You know the drill,” She responded as she reached back and brought out a data pad. “State your name and time log,”

With a disgruntled sigh, I signed my name and time on the data pad. With my signature approved, Petra stepped aside, allowing me through. As I passed through those large doors and entered the darkly lit laboratory, Miguel’s previous reassurances fluttered through my head again.

It’s only temporary.

Whenever I wasn’t practicing for the show with my dance team, I’d try to pop into the Society to check on Miguel to see if he needed help with anything around HQ or just to have some company. As far as managing HQ went, Miguel had everything running like a well oiled machine. He had just returned from Petra’s dimension when I walked into his lab, and thankfully all was well.

With the Marvel Day Celebration getting closer and closer, our dance rehearsals were becoming more and more intense. Less breaks, more practicing. As our team’s leader, I tried to stay optimistic and keep the positive vibes flowing by offering tips and guidance whenever we struggled.

However, as Kasey was our unspoken, unofficial second in command, she had insights of her own. While they were logical and strongly sound, sometimes it would come off as too strong. Today has been especially rough.

Touga and Toya had misstepped and nearly trampled on top of each other. They argued, faces fuming. It didn’t sound like their typical sibling banter either. Hannah got in between them, but the more heated they got, the more I feared for her safety.

“You did that on purpose, baka!” Toya snarled. - idiot

“If you don’t shut up, what I’ll do next will be on purpose!” Touga growled back.

I managed to calm them down, but I was surprised no one else's feathers had been ruffled. At least nothing else was said out loud anyways. We decided to end practice there for the day, the air becoming too tense.

I needed a break. I wanted to come here. I wanted to see Miguel, and just. . . do something with him.

We barely had a moment alone to ourselves the last few days too. Even just to talk and make conversation as he worked and I’d sit with him to unwind after rehearsals. Someone and something else would always come up; “Miguel, you’re needed in hangar 8!” or “Miguel, Team 5 has come back from Earth-88 with their mission report!”.

All important things of course, and I’d never suggest otherwise to him. Especially with the threat of Harry and his scheme. It seemed tonight would be no different

Sometimes, it just felt like. . . I’m not as important as–

‘Mona Lisa don’t you even think about finishing that sentence,’ I suddenly sensed Miguel’s voice fluttering through my mind, snapping me out of my train of thought.

His voice had sent a warning chill down my spine, but still reassuring and playful all at the same time. I glanced over from my chair, seeing Miguel reading a report, an orange holographic screen in front of him at his workstation. Miguel peeked his head out from the side of the screen, offering me his charming smile.

“I’m almost done,” Miguel physically spoke up, his finger scrolling down the screen.

“Not trying to rush you,” My cheeks flushed from embarrassment as I tucked my knees up to my chest.

“I never said you were,” Miguel responded with a shake of his head.

“Then how would you know?” I playfully jabbed at him.

After a few more minutes of reading, Miguel waved away the holographic screen with a sigh. “Alright, done,” Hands on his hips, Miguel sauntered over towards me, and I couldn’t help the goofy smile that curled on my lips as Miguel knelt down in front of me. He pulled the chair closer towards him, leaning his arms against the arm rests of the chair as he looked at me, his chin resting on my knees, “Now you have my undivided attention,”

I smiled sweetly at Miguel, reaching over to brush my fingers through his hair. “How did it go today?”

Miguel tilted his head, leaning into my touch as he shut his eyes, “Busy. Multiple patrols and assignments, signing off on reports, if not for Jess helping me manage the load, I would have gone stir crazy hours ago,”

I noticed the dark circle undertones beneath his eyes. They didn’t seem as intense as before. Hopefully that meant he was getting decent sleep at least.

“And Petra?” I asked him out of concern.

“Which one?” he teased with a shit eating grin.

I flicked his forehead. “Don’t be coy,”

He laughed, shaking the flick off as he shot me a wink.

“Princess Petra is holding up just fine. Her dimension’s integrity is stable, and Izzy– Isabella, perdóname, has been complying and staying out of trouble,” Miguel sighed as he recalled the day's events. - Pardon me

“That’s good,” I nodded softly.

It sounded like Petra’s plea during the demon’s interrogation the other week had gotten through to Isabella. So long as she stayed out of the spotlight and Harry left her alone, her and Petra’s dimension would be fine. It had to be. I wouldn’t want their dimension to fall apart just like Gabreila’s did.

A soft, delicate brush of Miguel’s fingertips along the side of my tucked up thighs snapped my gaze back to him. There was a sweet, tired smile on his face. “We should do something tonight, just the two of us,”

His touch sent a shudder down my spine, the tiny brush of warmth giving me goosebumps on my skin as I smiled back, “Absolutely we should,”

“We could stay in, watch a movie? Here in my room or back at your place?” He offered.

“How about my place?” I suggested. “That way we can give you a bit of a break from all these screens,”

“Like staring at a TV screen watching a movie will be any different?” He chuckles softly.

“No holographic screens, or reading reports I mean,” I rolled my eyes at his remark.

“Alright, alright, so you supply the place and the movie and I’ll supply the wine?” He added with a playful glint in his eyes, his gentle brushes along my leg becoming slower, and taking longer strokes.

“I like the sound of that,” I smirked.

Miguel matched my smirk as he lifted his head up from my knees, leaning in closer towards me. “Perhaps, after the movie we can–”

“Sorry for the interruption, Miguel,” His proposal was interrupted when Layla’s form appeared nearby, an apologetic look on her face.

Miguel paused, registering Layla’s arrival before glancing back and forth between her and me. He sighed deeply, his free hand gripping the armrest of the chair. “What is it, Layla?”

“Specky is back with Patrol Team 3. Their reports on Earth’s 170 and 45 are ready for your inspection,” Layla explained, her gaze briefly shifting over to me as she pulsed similar looks of regret for the intrusion, “More anomalies popped up than usual in those sectors,”

“. . . Thank you, Layla, I’ll take a look,” Miguel nodded softly, Layla’s form disappearing.

Miguel glanced back towards me, his puffed lips sulking as his eyes screamed with apology, “I’m sorry, Lisa,”

“It’s okay, Miguel, really,” I reassured him, my hand caressing the side of his face. “It’s important,”

“So are you,” he muttered softly. Standing up, Miguel pressed a kiss to my forehead before pulling away. “I’ll meet you back at your place later tonight. 8 O’Clock?”

“I’ll see you then,” I smile brightly, sinking into the chair.

Miguel offers me another charming smile, blowing a kiss my way before turning around and web slinging off his platform. I reached out and caught the kiss in my hand, tucking it close. I imagined a piece of him was still with me after that.

I sighed deeply, my shoulders feeling heavy. I was left alone to my thoughts as I slowly twirled around in the chair, looking up at the ceiling. I was really hoping we’d actually get to do something tonight.

He’s trying though. Even with everything piling on, he’s still trying. Ever the gentleman.

I had to get out of the lab and do something to kill time and not just sit around. More like sit around and sulk. Is this what it feels like when you find someone and you love spending time with them so much that you’re sad when they’re gone?

I decided to pop by the training center and take a dip into the arena. To my surprise, Gwen and the others were there too. I hadn’t seen them all that much since the stricter security protocols were put in place, so it was good to catch up.

If they’re here. . . then neither of them are the bodyguards Miguel assigned as my security detail.

Just who and where were they anyway?

I invited Gwen to spare with me, performing more of my routine that I had done while fighting the Vulture earlier this week, in an attempt to make it up to the young Spider for missing out on my show. I think this was the most fun I’d had since this all started. Gwen seemed to agree as she used her musically inclined movements and knowledge to keep up with my tempo as we fought.

“Look at me now

Passionately intense specification

Almost like a heart pounding fiercely through the skin Exotic vox!~”

It was so refreshing sparring against someone who almost moved, fought and even danced with the same wavelength as me. I had the biggest grin on my face as we spared and another small crowd was beginning to form and watch us. It reminded me of my first fight against Miguel all over again.

“Eeny-meeny-miny-moe the view of the sunrise upon a presence

Set free the elusive feeling that's been playing hide and seek

Adios!

Becoming reckless~”

Gwen and I clashed blows with one another, before I was pushed back by a powerful kick by Gwen. My back hit one of the arena obstacles and as I was recovering from the blow, I found Gwen running for me, preparing to deliver a punch. I knew I had to do something to catch her off guard and throw her off her game.

So I pushed my arm up, firing a web sling to yank me into the air and as I briefly hovered over Gwen’s form, I whipped out a smoke bomb and threw it at her feet. The bomb exploded into the familiar, glittery pink smoke bomb, stunning her. “No fair!” She yelped as the smoke cloud expanded.

I landed on my feet near her, using the cloud to hide my movements as I occasionally threw blobs of webbing at her. The webs glowed along with my voice as I sang, projecting it in a way to appear distorted to hide my location as Gwen struggled to both find me and fend off against the webbing.

“Jabarabadabi a dual-faced deception

The ambitious one, got the juice it makes me jealous

Don't play tricks, don't loose your temper

Before reaching karma, let me wander and sway~”

“That is both cool and freaky at the same time, how are you doing that?!” The eyelets of Gwen’s mask widened as she frantically searched for me.

“Jabarabadabi a dual-faced deception

The ambitious one, got the juice it makes me jealous

Don't play tricks, don't lose your temper

Colorful butterfly!”

Finally when there was enough webbing to hinder her movements, I fired one more webling at her feet before shooting upwards. I yanked her along with me, hanging her upside down as I pulled her out of the smoke cloud before wrapping her up with another set of webbing. I offered her a playful grin.

“No escape~”

I took my bow as our audience applauded us. I carefully eased Gwen back down to the main floor of the arena before helping her out of the webbing. I showed her off to the crowd, and while cheeks flushed and noticeably shy, Gwen managed to take her own bow as well and the audience cheered.

I looked out into the crowd and gasped softly when I spotted Miguel in the corner. He offered me a proud smile and a wink before walking away. Continuing his work I suppose.

Other than our brief meeting, that’s all we’ve been really able to get out of each other the last few days. A glance. Even if I tried texting him on his gizmo, he’d respond much later after I sent the initial message.

He’d still respond however, so I couldn’t really complain much, could I?

“Okay, seriously, you need to send me a copy of your playlist so I can jam out to some of these songs,” Gwen’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts as I looked over at her, seeing the wide smile on her face.

“Sure! So long as you let me see you play,” I grinned back at her, “Hobie won’t stop talking about your jam sessions with him,”

“You should totally come sometime!” Gwen beamed happily before she relaxed, nudging me in the arm. “You know, until Miguel eases up anyways,”

It’s only temporary.

“You wanna hang out with us, Lisa?” Pav asked, his teeth beaming as he smiled.

“Sorry, Pav, I can’t tonight,” I shook my head, offering the teenager an apologetic look. “I actually have plans tonight,”

“Oh, more dance practice?” the young Spider-Man perked up.

“Actually, Miguel and I are having a little date night tonight,” I smiled softly, “Well. . . try to, anyways,”

“Oooh, fun!” Pav's eyes twinkled in delight.

A short laugh caught my ear as I glanced over at Hobie, hands stuffed in his pant pockets. “I’ll be very surprised if the boss leaves lab let alone HQ tonight,”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I raise a brow at Spider-Punk.

“He never said anything to you?” Hobie smirked. “Here I was thinking you two being together would loosen him up a bit, be more honest and not be so stuck up,”

“Hobie. . .” Gwen narrowed her eyes towards Hobie, her voice an audible growl of a warning.

If I knew anything about Hobie, sure he could be blunt and rude, and cause drama as he pleases, but he was also honest to a fault. He told things like it was. That was the part that scared me the most.

“Hobie, what’s going on with Miguel?” I asked him as I stepped closer, arms crossed over my chest.

Hobie smirks at me, his eyes scanning my face. “You know you almost have his stare down too. You’re starting to mimic each other now, that’s adorable~”

“Hobie, please,” I narrow my eyes at him, my voice on the verge of grumbling.

“Alright, alright,” Hobie raises his hands in defeat. “Just teasing you, Lis, nothing by it!”

“What’s going on with Miguel?” I repeated the question.

“The boss man has been working almost non-stop for the last two days. I’m surprised he remembers to at least manage 2 meals a day, but he’s barely gotten any sleep,” Hobie shook his head in disappointment. “I sweet talked Petra earlier this morning. Says the boss never left his lab. Not even to head up to his private room,”

I gawked at Hobie, eyes widening. “Are you serious?”

“I may be a lot of things, Musey, but a liar ain’t one,” Hobie stated.

Miguel hadn’t been taking breaks? Getting rest? Why didn’t he say anything to me before?

Promise me you won’t overwork yourself? ~ I Promise, Lisa~

“Miguel was hiding this from me. . .” I spoke softly, realizing the truth in those words.

“Maybe he didn’t want you to worry?” Pav spoke up nervously.

“But he promised that he’d take care of himself and not do this,” I stated, trying to keep myself calm and collective.

There had to be a logical explanation for all of this. Was the stress really getting to him this badly?

“Sounds like to me he’s already cracked,” Hobie shrugged his shoulders, turning to leave as he glanced at me over his shoulder. “Give him a gentle nudge to set him straight,”

Hobie left me surprised by this statement as he walked away. Pav and Gwen both offer me sympathetic looks and wish me good luck in figuring out how to talk to Miguel as they both go after Hobie. I scratch my head, stunned at what I had just heard.

I had to talk to someone. Someone that was close enough with Miguel to figure things out. I knew who I had to see.

I made my way out of the training area, down the multiple halls of the building and made it to the doors of Gabriel’s lab. If there was one person I could go to in order to prove Hobie’s statements were actually true, it had to be Miguel’s little brother. “Gabriel isn’t expecting me, but I need to speak with him,” I introduced myself to the guards at the door.

The guards looked at each other, nodding before pressing the button and allowed me inside. Once I was in, I found Gabriel tinkering away at his work console. He was working away on a gadget I couldn’t bring myself to even remotely figure out what when I approached him.

“Gabriel?” I spoke up, reaching to tap his shoulder.

“Ah!” He jumped in place, letting go of the controls on his console before pushing up his goggles away from his eyes. “Oh, Lisa! Hey, what’s up?”

“Have you been keeping in touch with Miguel the last few days?” I asked him.

“On and off yeah,” he shrugged, his eyes trailing off to the side as he briefly calculated the time in his head.

“And you wouldn’t happen to know if at any of those points in time you were checking on him, he was getting any sort of rest?” I pressed on.

“That wouldn’t surprise me,” Gabriel shook his head. “Even before becoming Spider-Man, Miguel was almost always focused on his work, working late hours, runs in the family,”

“I see. . .” I sulked, lowering my head as I crossed my arms.

So Hobie was right. . .

“What’s the matter?” Gabriel asked, tilting his head to the side.

“It’s just. . .” I glanced up at his face and I don’t know if it was the look he was giving me or the uneasiness flowing through me, but I found myself cracking either way. “Miguel promised me he’d be taking better care of himself with everything happening,”

“And you just found out he hasn’t been doing that,” Gabriel continued on, hands on his hips.

I nodded.

“Hobie told you?” Gabriel asked me with a knowing grin.

My eyes widened in surprise. “How did you know?”

“He may look like he doesn’t give a shock, but Hobie sees and hears everything. If there’s anything about anyone you wanna know about, Hobie is your go to guy,” Gabriel explained with a nod.

“So then he wasn’t pulling my leg,” I sighed deeply, my side leaning against the console.

“So, what are you going to do with that information?” Gabriel asked me. “Are you mad with him?”

“I mean. . . I’m upset that he didn’t feel like he could tell me how he’s been feeling,” I shake my head. “He wants us to do something tonight, but. . .”

“You’re thinking about canceling?” Gabriel realized.

I nodded hesitantly. “I just want him to actually take a break and get some rest. Is that such a problem?”

“Of course not,” Gabriel reassured me with a sympathetic look. “I know it may not look like it now, but Miguel has genuinely been loving your visits the last few days. Says it’s the one thing he looks forward to, because when he sees you, he knows your safe,”

“Really?” My voice was soft as I asked the question, my head perking up.

“Deep down he’s like a kid on Christmas morning. He even messaged me a few minutes ago asking what wine he should bring for your little movie night. Plus, I have a hunch you look forward to these little visits just as much as he does,” Gabriel wagered with a knowing grin.

“Even if it’s brief, it helps me unwind just being with him after my day is done,” I admitted softly, “Especially with my show just over a week away now,”

“Want my advice?” Gabriel spoke up, stepping closer as he leaned against the console beside me. “Don’t cancel on him. Hang out, just give him a gentle reminder,”

“You don’t think he’ll get upset?” I asked him with worry.

“Maybe a little tense, understandably with the current circumstances,” Gabriel nodded before glancing over at me. “But he does appreciate you looking for him and his well being. No one has gone to that much trouble for him since. . . Well, Xina. . .”

I sat there silently for a moment, thinking things over as I ached at the mention of his first wife. Has there really been no one else to look out for him aside from me or his brother? What about his parents?

He’s never mentioned them, come to think of it.

I slowly nodded my head. “Alright,”

“Alright as in you’re going to talk sense into him, or Alright as you’re gonna cut him some slack?” Gabriel asked me.

“A bit of both,” I answered, nudging his shoulder with mine. “Thanks, Gabriel,”

“Please, you’re dating my brother, call me Gabe,” he grinned.

I laughed. “Alright, thanks Gabe,”

“You’re welcome,” He smiled. “Good luck,”

With that, I took my exit from his lab, opening a portal back to my dimension. I arrived back in my apartment, looking around. I knew what I had to do.

/////////

Leave a like or comment if you want to be added to the tag list!

Tagged: @0eye0, @sadgurlstar , @uhnanix , @r1dd1kulus, @kirablommuwu @kenacole @kuinnoa, @devotedlyatomicdeer @hltendo , @r0sib3lleeditx @noahspector @senicrile @ahoeformyself

4 notes · View notes