#I USED TO DO SO MANY COLOR OVERS WHEN I WAS LIKE 11. SO THIS FELT VERY FITTING TO CELEBRATE S2 BEING SO CLOSE. LMAO | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hydrobunny · 1 month ago

Text

everyone thinks that they know us

tags: confessions, getting together, friends to lovers

a/n: written from the idea made by the amazing @yangx2isawhore :3

--------------------

it's exactly 11:34pm when the ringing of your phone wakes you up.

jolting up from your bed, you blearily glare at your phone screen. the contact name of SHIDOU‼️ burns into your eyes.

you hang up.

a second later, it rings again.

"what."

"y/n!" as always, shidou's voice is just a little too loud for it to be acceptable. "how mad would you be if i killed rin right now?"

you pause. you look at the time. you consider the probability of him telling the truth.

"pretty mad."

"great!" and you can hear the grin in shidou's voice as he recites out an address. "you can come save him then."

although you were the one that had tried so hard to befriend rin itoshi, you were pretty certain that you hadn't signed up for whatever the hell this was.

you pull up at the address at a sharp 12:02 am, annoyance already settling in underneath your eyes.

the address is a mansion (why would you ever expect anything else), and the recognizable bass of party music blasts through the windows. at least a dozen different colored sports cars (you consider how much one would sell for) are parked outside of it.

you debate turning around. unfortunately, you think shidou might actually be serious about killing your best friend.

best friend. how did you get to this point? friend. didn't matter that you might have been in love with him- rin could never see you as anything more.

you knock on the door.

a man you might be able to recognize if you cared enough answers. his dual-colored eyes flit over you with interest.

"hey there, pretty," he says, and his voice is slurring with the unmistakeable touch of alcohol. "don't think you're on the invite list, but i can make an exception."

you scowl. "no thank you. shidou called me to come?"

he cocks his head. "what could someone like you possibly have anything to do with that psycho?"

"he-"

the psycho in question slams into two-eye's side, whooping. "took you long enough!"

you sigh.

shidou ryusei grins at you, positively buzzing with energy. the smell of cheap (why cheap? genuinely, why did he buy cheap alcohol?) beer lingers around his face.

"did you kill rin yet?"

the grin immediately wipes itself from his face. "getting there."

he whirls around, a warm hand latching around your own- and then he's pulling you through the hallways of this too-big house.

the music hasn't stopped for a second since you've got here. in many of the rooms, you can spot groups of vaguely recognizable people, all of them in various states of buzzed-to-plastered.

you wonder how professional athletes weren't any better than the frat boys that threw weekend parties. (well, the age range was pretty much the same)

"where are we?" you manage to shout into shidou's ear, as he pulls you further away from the heart of the party.

"sae's house!" he yells back.

"what?"

the two of you slam into another room- shidou shuts the door with too much force - and the music fades away into background noise.

rin's head snaps up at your entrance.

"rinrin!" shidou crows. "brought you another babysitter!"

rin stares at you with genuine confusion. his eyes are hazed over, his cheeks a light red. "what? y/n?" a red solo cup, ominously empty, sits by his hand.

"yes, yes," shidou replies, pushing you forward. "the only person who can somehow tolerate your presence is here!"

you slip out of shidou's grip. "what the hell is happening?"

he rolls his obnoxiously bright eyes at your question. "little itoshi's weirdly drunk and incoherent. which means big itoshi has to pretend like he cares. which means i can't force big itoshi to drink an enormous amount of alcohol! so now you have to watch this idiot!"

"i am not drunk," rin snarls towards shidou. "and i don't need a babysitter."

he attempts to get up from the counter he's perched on, and immediately wobbles. you debate whether it would be worth laughing.

before you can make a decision, another side door opens.

and sae itoshi meets your gaze with bored indifference.

"what- you!"

he raises an eyebrow. you're not sure how you got into this situation.

you wonder how you're supposed to react to meeting the one and only brother you've heard rin talk so much about.

some inner part of you immediately doesn't like him. the other part immediately notices how similar they look, and curse their sheer attractiveness.

either way, sae loses the little interest he had in you immediately, turning towards shidou. "is this-" he waves a hand towards you. "her?

shidou nods furiously. "junior is perfectly cared for now. now let's get out of here!"

rin glares at all three of you.

sae sighs. for someone who's supposed to be the host, he doesn't look thrilled at the prospect of socializing.

the elder itoshi turns his attention onto the younger. "you're fine with her?"

rin's eyes narrow further. he doesn't respond.

shidou takes that as his cue. his hands place themselves on sae's shoulders. "good talk, everyone!"

and with another slammed door, you are left alone with rin. it's more than a little awkward.

you open your mouth- he shoots you a glare. you can take a hint. (even if it breaks your heart.)

out of a bored curiosity, and maybe a little spite, you start opening cabinets. they're mostly empty (you wonder what kind of life sae lives).

rin's gaze follows you the entire way. it's intense enough to give you goosebumps.

eventually, you come across a pot of gold- a wine bottle, its cork untapped. there's a ribbon attached to its neck; you spy the JFU logo placed on top.

"he won't mind, right?" you ask.

silence follows.

you open the bottle. if you're going to be stuck here anyways, why let it go to waste?

surprisingly, it's rin that talks first. "why'd you come?" he mumbles out, stumbling over a syllable.

you shrug, taking another mouthful of the wine. (it's good. too good. damn rich people.) "shidou said he was gonna kill you."

“shidou has your number? you responded? why'd you care?" he blurts out in a tsunami of words. immediately after, he looks away with reddening ears.

you eye him with slowly growing amusement. there's a buzzing in your stomach that's slowly stripping your self control away. "yes. and yes. and because we're friends."

rin tch's, still refusing to meet your eyes. you think he'll keep talking, but he doesn't.

so you take another swig of the wine bottle. maybe rin can be the one to reach out for once.

but- like always- you're the first to crack. after a possible fifteen minutes of brooding silence, you sigh.

"what's going on with sae?"

rin's gaze snaps to your face. "what about him?"

you raise your brows. (you think you meant to raise only one. you can't really tell.) "i thought he didn't fuck with you."

rin's face scrunches at your words. "what?"

you groan, sliding down from your perch onto the floor. "you know? i thought- well, he looks like he cares."

he stands up. "he doesn't."

"sure."

he stares at you with a complicated expression, and then makes his way over to you. you blink up at him.

"i don't like you talking to him," rin says, seemingly more lucid than before.

"wasn't really my choice." you shoot him a smile, raising a hand. he lifts you up to standing with it.

from how close you now are, the two of you are almost touching. if you weren't as delirious on wine as you are now, this would be much more distressing.

even now, it takes all of your will to maintain eye contact with him.

"you don't like me talking to him?" you mumble out.

rin tilts his head. "no."

"can i ask why you came here then? or why you got plastered off cheap booze?"

he opens his mouth, then stops. and then- "you're not doing much better."

you clear your throat. more than the wine, it's rin who's clouding your thoughts. his faint cologne- so much more evident at this distance- intoxicates you.

"that didn't answer my question."

his eyes narrow. "i felt like it."

you frown. "what situation are you in that made you want to get drunk with shidou?"

and his eyes flicker down. to your lips.

"what do you think?"

you stumble; rin's hand places itself in the small of your back. signature itoshi teal burns.

you're both drunk. you're in his brother's house. and yet-

and yet, you're both here, and rin itoshi is leaning down into you.

his lips meet yours desperately, his breath catching over and over again. your hands tangle into his hair- he groans wordlessly.

you separate with a gasp.

"are you- what?" you manage, face ablaze.

rin looks just as disheveled. "y/n."

"rin."

he steps back, eyes roving from wall to wall. "fuck. fuck, im sorry. i thought-"

that's not the right words you wanted to hear. you step forward, the wine bottle long forgotten behind.

"you thought right," you blurt.

rin stares at you. a flush sits over his face.

"i thought you wanted to just be friends. that- that you didn't want me." you say.

surprise, and horror, flicks in his eyes. "what?"

you cough out a laugh. "not very smart off the field, are you?"

rin's mouth opens and closes, much like a fish. you think he's going to speak-

he closes the gap between you two, and his lips meet yours again.

between gasps, he mumbles a "i could never not want you." into your form.

and you sigh out your own declaration of love

somewhere in the house, a door slams. someone whoops in exhilaration.

but in this room, it's just you and rin. alcohol tinges both of your breaths. you're both drunk on something bigger.

#hydrobunny #blue lock #blue lock x reader #blue lock fluff #itoshi rin x reader #rin itoshi x reader #rin x reader #uhhmmm at no point did i know where this was going #kinda wordy which prob means this won't do so well but whatevs #thank you to that one commenter that motivated me to get off my ass and start writing

701 notes · View notes

tinydefector · 6 months ago

Note

I was just interested if you were a suckered for the clothing and fabric and perfume trope as I am. In the sense where fabrics and a abundance of organic flora was considered more common for higher class cybertronains but that even then it was pretty scarce. Imagine a bot or con after getting over their fears or mild disgust of the squishness of humans so to speak the next few things they notice is how many types of hair there are. How many styles and how many different ways to dye said hair. It drives them nuts the feel such softer fibers all together to make a more denser form. Curled,staight,wavy it all catches their optics. Painted nails almost similar to paint for their frames. Tattoos so intriguing. A human willingly damaging their surface that is more fragile than their metallic frames. It's a living scar. And they can't help but slowly come to love it to when they see how much their human complain does. But fabric? God they almost get drunk off of it. When they get a hug they shiver at the smooth article that brushes on their frame. The variety. So many styles and colors. So many meaning behind patterns and techniques. They can't help but almost grow jealous hearing how far back a simple stich can come from in human history. Humanity dressing itself in plush silks and flimsy polyester but it's all gold compared to what the cybertronains have come to crave. Imagine them having made themselves smaller so they could be inside your living space and they can't help but notice all the fabrics. All the plush surfaces. Their in heaven fully convinced they're going to meet the great primes. And if you had a scented burning candle? Sweet or citrus they can't help but want to inhale deeply to capture the scent. Perfumes? God their drunk whenever a human walks into a enclosed space because all mechs and femmes are fighting themselves to not snatch you up and keep you. If you use scented body wash or scented lotion then can practically taste it on your skin if you are near or hug them. They crave it when it's late at night and they've got you sobbing and thighs shaking as they kiss and lap at your scented thighs. And if theirs multiple humans in a space? That almost has a bot slurring their words as iff they just had the best energon. Just some thoughts haha I'm very sorry it's so long. I'm just a suckered for all these headcanons and just how while they may be disgusted and have hatred for humanity some fo them can't help but swoon for so many qualitys of their human companions that are nothing like their skin. So soft and complaint and so very warm at heart.

So I do have some fics on this stuff one is

Ratchet x reader. Involving perfumes effecting cybertronians like a sex potion or sex pollen.

Then I have

Starscream x reader. Involving the infamous dress and him testing out different outfits on his partner.

This small collection of bots reacting to nipple piercings (was like my first fic I ever wrote here)

_________________

I am quite a sucker for the clothing and fabric and perfume trope. I really enjoy writing cybertronians who adore seeing their partner drapped in shimmering fabrics. Becuase to the human its could just be a satin sheet, but to the cybertronian it is luxury, it showcases so much about you and every chance they get they love getting to just feel or touch the fabrics.

Imagine: your cybertronian is sat on theirs berth which is a mix of almost foam matting(yoga mat/ expanding foam) They don't lay on just metal but it's not particularly comfortable for their human. So one day, they introduced them to memory foam, and its like the bots world has opened up. It becomes a soft, comfortable recharge. But as you start bringing sheets, blankets, and your pillows, it makes the bots feel as if they are falling in love. They love it when you drape the soft fabric over them and make yourself almost a next on their chassis with the soft bedding. To they it feels like a luxury that you are pampering them even if it's just to make yourself more comfortable. It's the fact you leave them in their suite on their berth take makes their spark clench in delight knowing you'll be coming back.

I also tend to write cybertronains have alot more nasal sensors and detectors to the point they can break down the partials to annalise them. The smell of fresh lining is something that effects them almost like catnip with a cat. They will roll around in the fabric optics wide. Engines roaring in delight. As their joints squeak and clank against the walls.

I also love writing that Fabric was something that only the Highest of society had on cybertron, but mainly due to have small the fibers are it is extremely hard for cybertronains to replicate the material, so it fetched for high prices when Imported from organic planets. If you were of the lower classes, you would be lucky if you had a tarp or some sort of soft plastic as it was also still very sort after. So you can imagine how the cybertronains reacted once on earth, even while undercover. Fabric is such a huge part of human culture that cybertronians, when they find even just a pretty scrap of Fabric, keep it as a token. As if to say "frag you" to the universe.

But I can also see a human finding the stash of Fabric cut off's and offering to sew them all together in an almost patchwork like blanket for their bot and you can bet your ass you will have that cybertronian on thier knees worshipping you for it.

______

"Hey, we have hail forecasted," their voice calls out to the vehicle parked in the driveway. The cybertronian is rather quiet as they register what was said to them. "It isn't acid rain, so it won't be anything too bad." they try to argue only to have a large old blanket thrown over them. "Hey, what are you doing?" It sends shock throught their system having something so soft drapped over their frame.

"I'm covering you up so you don't get hail damage, I sadly can't get you into the garage at the moment so the next best thing I can do is cover you up with some blankets and a tarp so you don't get damaged by ice falling out of the sky" they explain as they throw another over the vehicle. Making sure to fully cover the bot before throwing a waterproof tarp over them, too. "Sorry, I don't have anything better than this, but it will keep you dry and our of harm's way." Those words hit their spark in a way they never would have thought it would. They are left almost speechless, cosy, and somewhat warm as the hailstorm rolls in.

________________

When it comes to hair colour, skin colour, and tattoos. It fascinates them so much to see such diversity and colour on a species they originally believed to be quite dull. It gets to the point when making their holoform avatars they love exploring and expressing themselves as if making a sims character. Even going as far as some get custom paint jobs of the tattoos, they get on their avatars because, for them, it's the closest thing they can have to tattoos. But think about you getting a tattoo in a shop right across from where your cybertronian partner is getting their paint job because it was a cute couples day out.

And don't get me started on how much cybertronians love human's hair. The fibers are so different to them and they love the feeling of it, they just have to be very careful when running a digit theought thier lovers hair as to not get it jammed in the joints causing you pain.

Another thing that cybertronians are fascinated by is humans' willingness to injure themselves in the name of beauty. From tattoos, piercings, injections, and surgery. In honesty, it's not that different from frame ulteration, but they don't know how a human can do it. The bots can turn their pain sensors off while humans are just soldier on through it.

I love the idea that the bots also horde car freshners that their humans get them. It becomes a full-on pokemon card situation of them trading double ups, begging their partner to get them others so they can rub it in their friends' faces. But air freshners weren't a thing until Earth, and the bots love how it makes their frame smell different from the oil, grease, and car smell.

But perfumes gods I love the idea that perfumes have a certain chemical reaction to Cybertronian systems to the point to turns them into a raging horny bot who can't get enough of how your skin taste and how desperately they try to literally lick the perfume off your skin as if it were the riches and most expensive high grade energex on the market. It also leads to a lot of personal working with the bots not being allowed to wear perfume/cologne. Deodorants don't affect them the same way, but they also enjoy how they smell quite a bit.

But yes I love the idea of perfumes pretty much working like a pheromone spray and don't get me started on actual pheromones spray, your not leaving that bots berth for atleast 3 days, they will bring you food, water and anything you want but it literally overrides their system protocol and makes them desperate to breed you.

In conclusion, DO NOT wear perfume or Pheromone spray near the bots unless you don't intend to be leaving the berth for at least 3 days if not more becyase they can and will keep you their.

________________

Let me know if you would like to be added to tag list (tagged for every fic)

Taglist

@angelxcvxc

@saturnhas82moons

@kgonbeiden

@murkyponds

@autobot79

@buddee

@bubblyjoonjoon

@chaihena

@pyreemo

@lovenotcomputed

@mskenway97

@delectableworm

@cheesecaketyrant

@ladyofnegativity

@desertrosesmetaldune

@stellasfallow

@coffee-or-hot-cocoa

@shinseiokami

@tea-loving-frog

589 notes · View notes

raven-at-the-writing-desk · 24 days ago

Text

book 7 part 11 thoughts! (nov 29th update)

***THIS POST CONTAINS MASSIVE SPOILERS FOR BOOK 7 PART 11 OF THE MAIN STORY!!*** This spans part 212 to part 226, focusing on Leona. Jack and Ruggie's parts can be seen here.

Please note: this is NOT meant to be a summary or a translation; these are only my initial thoughts on the events that roughly unfold. There may be details overlooked or misunderstood in this post, so PLEASE do not use this as a translation.

The gang lands in… Sunrise City again? Importantly, there is a new effect that plays which differentiates it from the Sunrise City of Ruggie’s dream. There are now dust and tumbleweeds.

Ruggie and Jack are totally fine with the turbulent flight over, since they’re used to bumpy rides on brooms while playing magift/spelldrive. Azul, however, is not doing so hot (because of the flight + weather). Ruggie takes pity on the poor octoboi and looks for a stall to buy him a cheap drink like tea or something. That’s when Ruggie notices something weird… the city is way more desolate than usual, and many of the stalls that are normally selling are no longer there or are closed up.

He tries to talk to some NPCs, but they notice he’s a hyena and hide out of fear. Well, that’s just… odd. So the group decides to scope out the palace (the most likely place Leona would be) to get to the bottom of things!

We arrive at the outskirts of the palace and the uh… coloring… is ominous.

Silver comments that they didn’t see any royal guards so the Sunset Savanna must be a very peaceful country :DD (… Oh, you poor, sweet, summer child…)

Ruggie tells him that no, this is definitely strange! Normally there would be many female guards around, in what world would it be easy to sneak into a palace undetected?! The current head of the royal guard is a female lion beastwoman, and most of the guards are females who are proud of their skill and strength. Many girls apparently do martial arts as children and then volunteer to be guards.

They come across some hyena beastmen who are laughing loudly. Their garb is that of Sunset Warriors, who, if you recall from Tamashina Mina/Cloudcalling on the Savanna, is a title that is highly coveted + honorable and earned through winning a Cat the Tail/Bead Brawl tournament (that people often train hard for). But these NPCs aren’t honorable or even that skilled to begin with, so Ruggie senses something is WAY wrong.

The NPCs become darkness (it seems the dreams are becoming a lot more actively aggressive in the Savanaclaw segments) and we beat them up.

The guards chase us but Idia uses his Mad Gamer Skills to hack open a door and then lock it so they cannot pursue us. We overhear some shouting and…!

OH MY GOSH… Kifaji finally gets s voice?!!?!?! He’s pleading with someone to take action because the country is starving.

We sneak over to the throne room (which looks frighteningly similar to that one scene where Scar is lounging on rocks which poor Zazu is caged)… AnD YUP TheRE GE iS 😭 LEONA THE pRINcE (KINg) OF sUNSET SaqvCANNA)

AD BfsvkugvukevuylFI GOYQELGQEGIOYOG7QEOfwp9FFG9Fw HORYKAM AFDK DFHBLAGIOEYEQOGAGENNAGOUIAG OOTL THAT KLSOoKKS NICE AFN HADBLADBIHLDBIADGBIADGIOYGOVUEGYAIOAGABHIG KFDGSBHJDGBHLAGBIAGEIBGE PLEA DSN SE DREES LIEK THOA T LMORE PODFTNETN DFSBKLAFJAFBHLGBIUPAGIVYAAPIDMK OT AS;OBUGDAIYOADGYIADGOVIYAGOIEGPBIQEG

[Brain buffering...]

SORRY WHERE WAS I

Kifaji mentions that Leona’s father has passed from illness, and tragedy befell his older brother, Falena, and his family (I assume Cheka and the wife are also out of the picture??) so Leona has now succeeded him. In this dream, Leona claims to have “cleaned up” the slums, pushed development, and mined the hell out of the country. They made a lot of money, but… at the cost of ignoring the advice of his advisors + the public’s opposition and destroying their environment. His style of ruling is just not sustainable.

Leona says he won’t listen to those who cling to old customs. Kifaji admits that Leona’s plans to improve the country were innovative but still…! This is too much. He tries to get Leona to see reason by reminding Leona that people AREN’T like chess pieces. People are so different and can work in ways you may not want them to. As king, Leona HAS to understand that and work with them regardless. Unfortunately, Leona refuses to acknowledge anyone but himself as competent.

Apparently those guards from earlier were the result of Leona giving jobs to people because they needed it. Leona being Leona, however, never gave them proper training and demands that Kifaji handle that.

OH MAn 💀 They hear shouting and it seems like there is a protest outside??

Dream!Ruggie is leading a crowd. He says stuff like how Falena was a better ruler than Leona ever was. They want food, they want nature back; they don’t want a king.

LMAOv???!!?!!?,) NOT LEONA GOING “damn, if they hate it here so much then they should just leave”????? 😭 THIS IS EXACTLY WhaT OUT OF tOUCH RICH poLITICIANs SAy WHEN PEopLE XOMPLaaiN AbOUT THEiR POLICiES

Leona orders Kifaji to shut up the protestors, he can’t nap like this 💀 Some things never change, I guess…

Ruggie takes them to the same luxury hotel we stayed at for the Tamashina Mina event (he expects Idia to pay for them lmao). It looks like not even this fancy place has any ingredients left though…

Idia retreads what he said in book 6; isn’t Leona the type to realize he’s in a dream? Yet he is deeply immersed in it. Silver wonders why Leona dreams of terrible things happening (like tragedy upon his family and the people hating him) if this dream is meant to be happy. Idia suggests that this is because Leona’s dream is like a sandbox game; ie Leona is “playing around” with the possibility it provides and clearly seems to be aware of the consequences that come with it (hence the terrible things Silver mentioned earlier). So maybe he’s catastrophizing…?

cbjsvsjwkw They talk about midnight snacking for a bit??

Idia talks about procedural generation and how the dream has to accommodate + load new maps as the player shifts around. But Leona doesn’t do that??? So it’s impressive or something cbsbbskskw I could be misunderstanding this part, I don’t know how tech stuff works 💦

They brainstorm some way to take away the king’s authority… and decide to use Cheka!! Ortho downloads a 3D model from Styx and Ruggie uses his UM to puppet it!

They try to break through the protestors and things get violent 😔 ashbfbiadiab LIKE ONE FO THE GUARDS HIT A MOM AND WAS ABOUT TO HIT YUU TOO BUT GOOD BOY SILVER PROTECTS US

Sebek, Silver, and Azul fight off the hyena guards while Ortho, Ruggie, Yuu, and Grim ride on Jack’s (wolf form) back to charge in. We finally get the incantation for Unleash Beast!! “Faster, sharper, stronger! Unleash Beast!”

Inside the palace, Leona demands meat and such from Kifaji. When Kifaji tells him there is none, Leona says go outside and get it 😭 THEN HE tHRETEnS TO FRY AnD EWT KIFAJI?????? AnD tHEN HE GRIPS KIFAjI BY THE cOLLAR WhEN HE SAYS FaLEnAmS nAmR… GIRL… YOU DiD NOT… NADSKILUASLBIADIBLD NOW HE'S ATTEMPTING TO SAND GRANMPS????

Ruggie barges in, TACKLING LEONA???? And pretending to be Cheka (with a really dumb voice LOL). But Leona clocks him right away and dispels the hologram. He accuses Ruggie of pretending to be Cheka to start a revolution and declares that this is punishable by death.

Kifaji protects us!! He uses fire to stop Leona’s attack, confirming him as a mage too. (That’s the first time the “darkness” in the dream has gone out of its way to help us rather than hinder us. Ortho suggests it is because the dreamer’s interpretation of the characters is important; the is could lead them to prioritizing their own behaviors rather than focusing on eliminating threats to the dream.) W AH 😭 Dream!Kifaji says he wishes for Leona to wake up from this bad dream…

Leona ran away in the brawl and is now outside the palace. He stews around and mutters that it isn’t his fault, so why did things turn out like this?

The hyena guards show up and pull Leona deeper into the dream. We of course leap in after him!!

Aaaaaand HERE WE ARE, a reality in which Leona and co. were successful in trampling Malleus or something... CRINGE CRINGE CRINGE how he gloats about his stupid ass plan that would NOT actually work irl. THANKS FOR REMINDNING ME ABOUT HOW CRAP BOOK 2 WAS, OJITAN... Azul has a moment where he laments that he had nooooo idea Leona would abuse the potion they made a deal over like this. He worries that Leona would have been too cocky and started taking out top performing students as well as athletes in order to pad out Savanaclaw's future in various fields.

AW JACKKKKK 😭 He says he can't stand aside and just watch this; the Leona-senpai he knows wouldn't be satisfied winning some fake game. Even when he has accomplished everything he wanted to, Leona isn't satisfied--so they've gotta snap him out of it!! aehjfaboboafevwtvaegp PUPPY... HE CARES SO MUCH ABOUT HIS DORM LEADER, AAAAAH

We confront Leona, with Azul claiming to have saved the Diasomnia team from his machinations. Leona notices there are two Ruggies and he starts to have that splitting 'I'm noticing things are off here" headache.

The Savanaclaw mobs start shouting and demanding to know what we did to "our king". DBHLFVLFEVIYOEAIAFE JACKGETS MAD AND SAYS LEOAN ISN'T "YOUR KING" HE'S "OUR DORM LEADER"!!!!! AAAAAAAHHAHAHHHHHAHHHHH H HHAHAHAHSH H HA HAHAHAHHHH H HHHHHHH H OTL

Leona wakes up and is a little prima donna about ita sdhlbaidbafa HE TELLS THEM TO WAKE HIM UP MORE DLEICATELY NEXT TIME... BITCH YLIKE YOU AHVE ANY RIGHT TO BE MAKING DEMANDS RIGHT NOW

Darkness, enter~ The group escapes it adgkhfihblffia BUT SEBEK SAYS DLEONA DESERVES THIS AND SILVER HAS TO STOP AND SCOLD HIM FOR SAYING THAT

Ruggie got caught and is now being sucked into the darkness. Leona runs back to grab him despite Ruggie's pleas to just run LH FABYOAFAEGAEG raARE WE GETITNGF TRI GELLA S ARE WE GETITNG GOOD LEADER BIG BRO L*ONA SAN WHO WON'T ABANDON HIS MINIONS EVER?a?? ? ?? ? ?????????? ?? ??? ? OTL The others warn Jack not to run over too, but he shouts that Leona and Ruggie-senpai are back there...

Leona throws Ruggie at Jack (who catches him) but falls into the darkness as a result. Welp, time to dive in after him!

ADFHBASBIYSAASD OKAY EHRE'S THE CRINGE I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR... Leona sees his OB self moping about how he'll never be king. aiubafpdasbas OB LEONA TALKS ABOUT HOW HE WANTS TO THROW FALENA AND CHEKA OFF A CLIFF A LA SCAR STYLE...

Leona says it's pathetic seeing himself like this, doesn't he have any pride? If he keeps complaining that no one understands him, keeps looking down on others, keeps desiring approval... That's just so miserable.

He does what the other OB boys have done and proceeds to punch his Phantom into the dirt. Leona tells himself that he'll get his "own throne and country someday". (As has been alluded to many times before, this doesn't refer to a literal kingdom but a metaphorical one; ie he will try to find satisfaction through routes other than the crown.) AND HE ACCEPTS THAT HE WILL ALWAYS HAVE THAT BITTERNESS INSIDE OF HIM WISHING TO BE KING... HE ACCPETS IIITTTTTTT T T T TTTTTtTttttttTt OTL

Leona returns back to his original dream, where it has started to rain and the sun has come out. Kifaji runs up to him with the morning report and reminds his prince that everything the light touches is his domain.

Leona says it’s unnecessary and someone like him doesn’t have a claim to the throne. To this, Kifaji smiles and praises Leona for being so clever OTL HE DOESn’T GET MAd anD TRY TO gET LEOnA TO SlEEP AgAiN… "So you've finally noticed [...] that this is a dream. As expected of you. my king." WHAT SO DREAM!kIFAJI KNEW ALL ALONG????? WAS THSI A PEICE OF LEONA'S CONSCIOUSNESS THAT WAS AWARE AND DECIDED TO MANIFEST AS KIFAJI TO SAVE HIS OWN ASS?????? ? ? ?? ?? ????

LMAOOOO Leona says if he ever becomes king irl he is firing Kifaji ASAP (but we all know he won’t 😭). Using King’s Roar, Leona renders his fake kingdom to sand… and Kifaji looks on so proudly 😭 telling Leona to go to “the place where he should be”… 😭 YOu’RW KIDDIng ME EiGHTvvvvv’nnnnn’nnnM!!!????

Leona reunites with the group and… asdbaislda sort of makes up with Ruggie? He asks for forgiveness but doesn't specify for what (I'm guessing for the sanding?). Ruggie jokes about adding "interest" to Leona's tab but ultimately forgives him.

WHOA, new Jack crying sprite?!?!?! (Like a tsun, he insists he is not crying.)

He thinks about the noble Leona in his own dream… and how terrible his senpai are irl… but Jack says he prefers the real Ruggie and Leona any day. He’s so happy they woke up him.

NUUUUUUuUyyUuUUUUUU 😭 RUGGIe - AnD LEOn a COMFORT CryING JACKKkKKKKKKKKKKK

After that, Ortho explains everything to Leona and Leona gloats a little about how he always thought Malleus would go and do something dumb like this. When Ortho invites Leona to join their party, Leona says he passes and would rather nap. He claims he’s exhausted cuz he saw sooo many unpleasant nightmares, so he’ll wait here ‘til everyone is ready to punch Malleus. Azul can handle things for him.

But then Ortho points out that Ruggie, Jack, and especially Azul took a lot of damage in his dream. Azul is battered quite a bit because he was busy dispatching royal guards! This guilts Leona enough for him to change his mind and join us.

Aaaand that’s if for this update!

Mmm... Part of me feels validated because many of the ideas I proposed in this analysis of Leona vs Falena's ruling styles were showcased in Leona's dream. For example, Leona disregarded public opinion, prioritized development without considering the input of advisors, and everyone grew to resent him because of that. When Tamashina Mina first came out, a common sentiment was siding with Leona and declaring that his plans would better the country + he would make a much better king that Falena when, clearly, development is a very delicate and not-so-easy thing to achieve... I'm glad that Twst took a realistic approach to this. That’s not to say I think Leona would really be a shit ruler or that things would get as bad as they do in his dream. I just don’t think he’s prepared to handle that presently. It’s good that he’s now focusing on graduating and he applied for that internship that will bo doubt help him gather the knowledge and skills he needs to help his country. If he keeps working hard, I’m sure he can be the sort of person that brings the rain to the savanna.

I thought the idea to pretend to be Cheka and return to claim the throne was interesting, but ultimately it went nowhere since Leona immediately knew it was a fake. This felt more like an excuse to have Ruggie and Jack use their mouse mandated UMs for the dream segments... I wish they had actually done more with this. Maybe I'm biased because I think Ruggie's fake Cheka voice was hilarious www

There were TONS of Lion King references in this dream, HOLY CRAP. AND LEMME TELL YOU, IW AS SLURPING IT ALL UP. Not because I like the movie (I think it's alright), BUT BECAUSE I'M AN AVID ZAZU X SCAR SHIPPER... (They're peak enemies to lovers, don't @ me) OTL (TO BE CLEAR THOUGH, I DO NOT SHIP LEONA AND KIFAJI. Please don't mix them up!!)

Speaking of Zazu and Scar!! It was cool to see Kifaji in the dream...! His role was so refreshing too. I loved that he wasn't actually hostile, protected us, and actively wanted Leona to "wake up" from this bad dream. I think that's so reflective of the real Kifaji too... He's stern on Leona but it's only because he cares for Leona's wellbeing and wants to see him at his best, not constantly brooding over what he cannot have. And the fact that dream!Kifaji knew all along it was a dream and wished so hard for Leona to wake from it... it implies to me that, for all the shit Leona slings at Kifaji, he actually relies on the old guy as a source of comfort. Kifaji was probably his one and only friend in the palace and one of the few people who continued to believe in him... BEST BIRD GRANDPA, HANDS DOWN.

I'm sliiiightly disappointed that Leona wasn't awake the entire time; this definitely felt like a missed opportunity but at least Idia addressed what he said back in book 6 and provided a reason for it (even if I think the reason is flimsy). This might be cope on my part, but I think... part of Leona's self-awareness came through in how dream!Kifaji manifested. Maybe, just maybe... that Kifaji is the one shred of hope Leona has left for himself... Not just the part of him that knows this is a dream, but also the part of him that believes he can change and be a truly "good" ruler... AGAIN, PROBABLY COPE BUT LET ME DREAM.

Another character I felt really shone this update (besides Kifaji) was JACK. This shocks me because I don't really like him as a character but MAN, did he shine... He was the one who noticed Leona is unhappy even within his own dream where he has everything he could ever want. He's the one who shouts at the dream!mobs that Leona isn't THEIR king, he's HIS dorm leader. ANKDBHLADBILAIBA ASND THEN HE CRIED AND GOT ALL TSUNDERE ABOUT IT... THE SENPAI RUSHED TO COMFOR T HIM AJKDHAKHAFVAFVOEFUQEFTLFIHAFLEFWTUEOFIYPAFOB THAT WAS ADORABLE!!!! 😭😭😭 This update and the last really showed me Jack's true appeal...

asbkhlabiylfailyveioyqegi I LOVE HOW HTHSJ UPADATE JUST ENDS WITH ELONA SAYING HE'S GOING TO FUCKING TAKE A NAP... but then he gets off his ass and joins us after everyone reminds him how tired the others are and how hard his underclassmen worked to get through to him. HE'S REALLY NOT BEAITN GHT E "I DON'T CARE ABOUT THE KIDS BUT I SECRETLY DO CARE ABOUT THE KIDS" ALLEGATIONS . CVL;,SKJ'NGD;OBGDBIEGIFQWVGUEQVQE UQEO YFy vao ygFWOI Vf OTL

Not sure if I 100% get why this part had to be update separate of Ruggie and Jack’s part…? I mean, Kifaji helping us out and Leona having some amount of self-awareness was nice but I don’t think it was major enough to warrant waiting another week to see.

Next up is Heartslabyul which is in early December. It’s coming up quickly!

331 notes · View notes

hollow-forest-creations · 2 months ago

Text

Grocery Bag Tail Tutorial!

Buckle up, this is a long one lol! Also please mind any typo's. We're very dyslexic.

(Note: While I feel this craft can be relatively straight forward and repetitive once you get in the rhythm, still be prepared for this to take a several hours to complete)

Step 1:

thread a long piece of thread on a needle to roughly the length you want your tail to be. (A little bit of extra length is always good. This can be trimmed later.)

Step 2:

Measure out a 5"x5" (127mm x 127mm) square template out of paper, (This will roughly end up being the width the tail is around.) then fold it in half.

Step 3:

Cut the bag into a rectangle shape, preferably not including the label for a solid color. (Or leave it, that's up to you!) (Also, I like to save the access trims from the bag for other projects)

(Hint: If you paint a light wash of acrylic paint on the bag at this step you can change the color of the tail ;3 )

Step 4:

Fold the rectangle once vertically, and once horizontally.

Step 5:

Cut along 3 of the folded sides but NOT the side where they are all attached! (This is so it remains one solid piece) Fold It back out and it should have cleaner edges. (Once again I like to keep the trimmings for use in other projects.)

Step 6:

Fold the rectangle towards you and roughly to the size of the folded paper template (see step 2) Trim three edges; the one closest you you, and the side edges. NOT the top!

Step 7:

Hold the bag in the middle of the non-cut side and cut strips into the CUT sides of the bag. (it should end up looking like the second picture)

Congrats! You're over half way! Keep it up, you got this!

Step 8:

GENTLY pull each piece apart and lay them out. if done correctly up to this point, they should look like the image above. Repeat steps 3-8 until you have a decent amount of these. (You should make around 10-15 of these before moving on to the next step.)

Step 9:

Pile each of the squares on top of each other, then thread them through the center once one way and then back close to the center a second time. Make sure to leave some extra thread. (See the second image.) (Don't string it back through the same hole or it wont hold.)

Step 10:

Tie a double knot with the end of the thread and the other part of the thread still attached to the needle.

Step 11:

Trim the access from the side not attached to the needle. (Do NOT cut the thread attached to the needle! (It should look roughly like the second image.)

Step 12:

Tie a piece of string to the thread and double knot it. Trim extra. (this will help bulk it uses so you wont need to make nearly as many squares.)

One more step!

Step 13:

Slide the knot down to the the end where the bags are, then string another square.

Continue this process of alternating tying a knot of string and adding a plastic square until you are satisfied with the length! Simply tie it off at the end when you're done! (trimming at the end for shaping the tail can help too)

If anyone makes this and wants to post it, please tag us! we'd love to see! This method can most likely be used with other materials as well so get creative!

Also:

-Let us know if anyone finds a way to improve on how to make these more efficiently.

-If anyone has any questions about the tutorial, please let us know in the comments, and we'll try my best to answer. -Max

#alterhuman #alterhumanity #therian #adult therian #otherkin #furry #otherhearted #therian community #therianthropy #therian crafts #therian tail #recycled art

214 notes · View notes

gi4hao · 9 months ago

Text

🗓️ ᡣ𐭩ྀི ˎˊ- anniversary dates with seventeenྀི

hyung line version! (scoups -> woozi)

had a really sunny weekend so please enjoy these sunshine-fueled scenarios!

— seungcheol

turns out your anniversary took place during a vacation together, a week-long holiday near the beach. on the d-day, he refuses to say anything about his plans, no matter how many times you ask, to the point where you end up blindfolded as he leads you to his surprise. when you take the blindfold off, the only thing you can see is a white boat awaiting on the shore. at first you’re scared he might have actually bought the boat, but he ‘only’ rented it for a private dinner. the sun has just started to set and you’re glad to have picked one of your cutest outfits because you just know he’s going to be taking as many pictures of you as he can. you might be admiring the sunset, but he'll be admiring you the whole time.

— jeonghan

he truly racked his brain to find the per-fect date idea. on the day, he keeps you guessing with more than vague hints (like “we talked about doing that one day” as if you didn’t talk about literally doing everything together). but he’s confident in his surprise and rightfully so: at first you think it’s just a regular picnic, which would have been fine on its own, but as more people start to gather around you, you realize that a lantern festival is actually taking place here tonight. together, you scribble your wishes and dreams for the future on your lantern. and you love how he’s not even trying to hide what he’s writing: one thing about jeonghan, he’ll never try to conceal anything about his feelings for you.

— joshua

this one has a proud smirk plastered on his face the entire morning, hinting at a surprise. you get in his car around 9am and drive for about twenty minutes until he stops in front of a fancy looking building. “you know how we always talk about moving to a bigger apartment yet never actually visit anything? well i figured today would be the day…”, he tells you excitedly. and it’s only when the realtor meets you on the street that you realize joshua has actually booked a visit. more than one, in fact: throughout the day, you visit four apartments, walking from one to the other hand in hand, already fantasizing about what life is going to look like for the two of you.

— jun

both having a busy schedule, you recently told jun you missed having a proper dinner together and it’s given him the best idea for your anniversary: a nice dinner together without the practical difficulties of going to a fancy restaurant. when you come back home that evening, you find your place tastefully decorated with various candles, flowers and fairy lights. as for jun, he’s done his hair the way you like it best, dressed in an outfit you love, wearing the same perfume from when you first started dating. with a sheepish smile, he guides you to the balcony where the table is set, revealing the stunning city view from your apartment.

— hoshi

his plan for today is to make you feel as loved as ever, and that requires day-long dedication, starting with mandatory prince.ss treatment all morning. around 11, he tells you it’s “time to go” although you still have no idea what he’s talking about. but a 45 minutes drive later, you can make out the blueish color of the sea in the horizon. with him by your side, you know it won’t be just any beach day: picnic on the sand, a long walk along the shore spent saying “look, it’s us!” when you see two relatively close rocks, and most of all, soaking up the sun together in the water, all while being that clingy couple who cannot stop swooning over each other.

— wonwoo

this morning, wonwoo wakes up particularly early to cook breakfast for the both of you. you’re already awake by the time he’s done, but he looks so adorable trying to balance the tray while opening the door with his foot that you pretend like you’re still asleep. later, he surprises you with a gift which looks… a bit odd. you didn’t really expect a QR code. but you scan it anyways, and then everything starts to make sense: the QR code brings you to a website, a shelter website more specifically. “are we…”, you start, a huge smile already on your lips. “going on a shelter date to get a cat? absolutely”, he replies, glad you’re enjoying his surprise as much as he hoped.

— woozi

to him, this is the perfect day to show how much your relationship means to him, because he fears you might not know it well enough (you do). so he’s got a little something prepared… the first part of his plan is to fake an apology: “i’m really sorry, i completely forgot…”. second part is to say he’ll take you to movies another day, which you accept, still half-upset. and finally, last part is to welcome you home on the d-day, takeout ready on the table but most importantly, with a homemade outdoor cinema right in your backyard. thick mattresses, fluffy pillows and a large white screen facing a brand-new projector, he went all out to make sure you feel as cherished as he always does.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

459 notes · View notes

m1d-45 · 2 months ago

Text

room 11-13

summary: albedo is weird. no, not just weird- disgustingly strange.

word count: ~2.5k

-> warnings: implied stalking [him -> you] ; he is a weird creep!! brief + non described mentioned nudity (of reader, within a drawing)

-> gn reader (you/yours) in a modern au !

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay || @cupandtea24 || @genshin-impacts-me || @chaoticfivesworld || @raaawwwr || @ryuryuryuyurboat || @undrxtxd || @rainswept || @wanderersqt || @rozz-eokkk

< masterlist >

your roommate was… interesting, to say the least. not that you really had many expectations—unlike apparently everyone else, you didn’t come to university with a plethora of friends packed in your bag. you had no names to list on your housing contract, no familiar faces to look forward to when you came home, just you, a handful of cardboard boxes and a lingering sense that you’d forgotten something.

there was nothing you could pin about him. nothing in specific, no one catalyst you could point to. sure, you don’t see him often, but that isn’t inherently a bad thing. there’s nothing wrong with not going out much, there’s nothing wrong with being a quiet person when you’re living with a stranger. the common room is clean, the sink is (relatively) empty, and none of your things in the fridge have been eaten. he really, by all standards, should be a perfectly fine roommate, but…

albedo was a quiet man. you first met him when you moved in, delicately pouring exact amounts of water into a small tins over the sink without a single sound or stray droplet. he looked up, you exchanged names, and that was that. the rest of your day was spent unpacking in your room, barely hearing the click of his door closing.

you never quite asked what he was doing that first day, but you could put two and two together. he had a habit of leaving pencils or erasers or other supplies on the coffee table, and you often ran into him when he came out of his room to fetch them. you’re not quite sure how you never see him in the living room when you never told him your schedule, but… well, whatever. it didn’t take a genius to know that the guy with charcoal smears across his hands was an artist. and, if you’d somehow missed those, you sometimes ran into half-used palette in the fridge, beads of paint in a myriad of colors sealed neatly in plastic containers, changing every time you checked.

you weren’t sure why they were always there, as you’d definitely seen one when he was in the dorm, but… well, it’s not really your business, is it? maybe he’s busy, maybe he doesn’t want to paint, maybe he’s taking a nap, who cares. you grab what you need and go back to your room; there’s more important things to worry about than a stranger’s hobbies. honestly, you shouldn’t spend so much time thinking about him. you could hardly claim to know someone you never saw.

well, except when you did see him.

you grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge as you came back from your chemistry lab, not minding the usual palette of paint beside it. also as usual, you heard his door open as he remembered some random item, not minding the sound of his footsteps as you receded into your own room-

“wait! ah- please…”

you forgotten what his voice sounded like. it’s mostly out of shock, not recognition, that you turn around, seeing him lingering in the entrance to his half of the dorm. his hair is loose around his shoulders, catching the light from the window and glowing gold. his apron is stained with a rainbow of paint, matching the perpetual lines across his hands, and he seems a bit too nervous to be talking with someone he’s been living with for a few months now.

“…i couldn’t make it to the lab today,” he starts, words measured and not at all like his original call, practiced instead of panicked. “could i borrow your notes?”

…you’re in the same chemistry class? you’d never noticed. then again, you’re not sure you could pick him out of a crowd—it’s not like you two were exactly close… but giving him your data was honestly a non-issue. normally you wouldn’t think twice about it, except if he was in your lab section then he should know the rules about missing them.

“you’re going to have to retake the lab anyway, aren’t you? my report won’t help you at all.”

he blinks, like he’d forgotten that fact, and you half hope that’ll be the end of it. you still have your own work to get to, after all.

“still… it would give me something to reference, so when i do it i’ll know if my results are reasonable.” his brows are drawn, genuinely worried, crystal blue carrying a surprising amount of emotion despite the careful cadence of his words. “i’d greatly appreciate your assistance on this matter… i don’t have a reliable way to contact anyone else in the class.”

it only takes you a few moments to weigh the pros and cons. at worst, your partner can back you up if he tries to steal your work. at best, nothing happens and you’ve earned a bit of goodwill.

you shrug, taking off your bag and setting it on the counter, unzipping the main pocket and digging for your lab manual. you find it and flip to today’s lab, mentally wondering what an artist would think of the irritated scribbles down the side of the page. whatever the case, you hold it out toward the hallway he was before, only to find him barely a foot away. he’s stood over your shoulder, letting your manual bump into his chest without a flinch, without an ounce of the worry from before.

without an ounce of anything at all, really. his face is flat, empty, just staring down at the words in front of him without seeming to read them at all.

“…sorry,” you start, “i didn’t hear you-”

“don’t be sorry.” with a blink, he’s back, taking the manual with a gentle smile. “thank you for your help. i’ll return it by tonight.”

“…yeah, take your time.”

you’re not going to question what or why whatever happened did. it’s.. just easier if you don’t. you grab your bag and go to your room, focused on anything else.

you don’t find it in the common area, on the coffee table or by the sink or in any reasonable area. he doesn’t knock on your door to return it. no, instead, you trip over it the next day as you leave your room, squinting in the dark to see it laying on the carpet, a note taped to the front.

yeah, you’re not reading that. not now, at least. you’re certain albedo is a nice guy, if socially awkward, but… you can give him the benefit of the doubt later. you shove the note in a drawer and forget about it, going to class. if you just ignore it, you won’t have to deal with it.

it must not have been anything important, because he doesn’t ever bring it up again. it’s almost as if nothing happened. there’s a new pencil on the common room whenever you walk by, he ducks his head and smiles sheepishly when grabbing it, and nothing is new. you try to look for him in the lab, if only to be courteous, but never find him. it’s not a big class… but whatever, you’re not too familiar with his face anyway. after a week or two, you stop trying.

it’s wishful thinking, really.

you have to do a double take when opening the fridge one day, the paint on the palette looking, from the corner of your eye, like a human hand. it’s just skin-toned paints, delicately mixed into a color that somewhat looks like yours.. by the looks of it, he must have fussed with the tint for a while. normally there’s only small bubbles of paint, but this is excessively fine refinement.. he must just be a perfectionist.

you can’t leave your room without running into him. not just like before, with brief intersections as he grabs what he’s forgotten, but actual interactions. he sits on the couch, drawing in a small notebook, asking you about your classes like he’s not supposed to be in his own classes. sure, he could be taking some online, but it’s like he never leaves the dorm.

he asks as usual, one day, what class you’re going to. when you finally gather your courage and ask why he himself isn’t going to the lab, he startles, like he’d forgotten he was attending. there were plenty of reasons why he wasn’t going—maybe he was in a different section of the class, or he had a car and had reduced travel time, or quite literally anything other than silence. but he sat there, staring at you like you were the one who had mixed up your schedule, with the same painfully empty look as before.

you left soon after that.

if asked to describe albedo in three words or less, you’d fumble for a few moments before landing on “fine, but weird.” if asked to do so with any other level of detail, you’d probably end up saying the exact same thing.

and that’s fine. you didn’t really expect to become best friends with your roommate. but for archons’ sake, he’s just so… uncanny.

you’ve never seen any other food in the fridge but yours. you cannot remember ever seeing or hearing him leave or enter the dorm, or ever remember not seeing some sign of him being there. his door was perpetually closed, the faint sound of scratching coming from behind it, and he’d just… freeze at random. like he recedes into himself, leaving a hollow husk until he returns, eyes left as flat disks set into an unfeeling face. there’s nothing inherently wrong with not showing many expressions, but whatever he’s got going on is far more concerning than that.

so really, who could blame you for being curious? his sketchbook is just there, laying open on the table, only partially masked by the small bag of supplies next to it. the door to the bathroom is closed, you really shouldn’t be invading his privacy like this, but it’s not like he even bothered to close it.

still, it’s wrong.

still, having something solid to point to could really help if you ever need to make a complaint to an RA.

oh archons, this is such a bad idea.

before you can convince yourself not to, you walk over and sit in his usual place on the couch, picking up his sketchbook and gritting your teeth through the fact that there’s no way this is morally justified.

the current spread is plain. it’s entirely in pencil, repeated iterations of different kinds of jewelry. rings, with ornate spirals and diamonds along the sides, leading into a gem of many different cuts. some simple stud earrings, some hoops, a necklace draped around a half-drawn bust, the chain sketched to look like blooming flowers strung together. there’s some notes in another script, but other than that, it’s entirely normal. there’s nothing weird about a guy that draws bracelets in his spare time. but your mind itches to find a justification, searching for proof, and you’re already in too deep. despite your better judgement, you turn the page, doing your best not to drop it when you do.

it’s you.

you, at least six times on two pages alone. smiling, waving, fixing your hair, by the seven you feel faintly sick, fingers digging into the pages as you try to rationalize what you’re seeing.

it could just be a one off. maybe you have a particularly interesting face to draw? except the next page is the same, and so is the next, and you flip through them all with the edge of your thumb and it’s all you.

all of it. every single page that has ink on it has your face. from the very front to the very back, with only a page or two of white left, and it’s clear that the jewelry was an intentional decoy. there’s a spread dedicated to just your hands, one to various outfits he’s seen you in, one- archons, one in various stages of undress, barely granting you the dignity of keeping them from the waist up. the worst part, really, is how accurate they are, clear proof of just how much time he’s spent staring at you.

you recognize his voice now, quiet and measured as he calls your name. that could just be your heart in your ears, though.

he has that same blank expression again, standing in the doorway, looking between you and the book. you’re certain he can see the paled fingertips of your grip on the cover. “do… do you not like them?”

“…what?”

he settles back into himself, sad, shoulders slumping and eyes downturned. “they’re just practices, i promise. the actual painting looks much better…”

bile threatens the back of your throat. “the painting?”

“yes, the painting. the one i mentioned in my note…”

…the note. his note. the one you didn’t read. the one he gave you after a grand total of one significant interactions, before which you all but considered him a ghost. and he decided that making a painting of you was a normal thing to do?

“…it makes sense you forgot it. i can’t imagine i’ve ever come close to properly capturing your beauty… it doesn't matter the medium, i never seem to get it right...”

he crosses his arms, picking idly at his lips with one hand, like he’s discussing a particularly annoying problem on his homework and not the fact that he has drawings of you topless. after a few moments of mumbling, he shakes his head. “i’ll do better. i promise i will. one day i'll draw something that finds even a fraction of your perfection.”

you don’t care. all you want is to get out of here, to lock your doors and try not to call the cops while he’s in earshot. “it’s fine, albedo”

the lie is a poison that seems to sting him upon arrival, a ripple of shock crossing his impassive expression. “it's not fine, not at all. how can i call myself an artist if i fail to impress my muse? please, give me time, i promise i can do better-”

“it’s fine,” you repeat, setting the sketchbook down and realizing with another stab of disgust that he’s written your name on the front cover. you stand, hands buzzing with the echo of what you’ve witnessed, not caring for the crestfallen look on his face. “…you’re a talented artist,” you grit out.

and you’re going to be sick.

153 notes · View notes

incorrectbatfam · 11 months ago

Text

Types of obnoxious batfam stans

Written by an obnoxious batfam stan

Not really a rant but something I've noticed over the years interacting in different spaces and I've decided to make your problem now.

Please note that I'm not saying there's any "right" way to be a fan because we all suck by virtue of being comic nerds, but there are certain kinds of batfamily fans that stick out to be in particular.

Anywho, here are 12 kinds of annoying batfam stans that you've probably run into and you better get a laugh out of it *points gun to your head*.

1) The Newbies Who Never Heard of Google

There's no shame in being new to something. It's a phase that we're all guaranteed to go through, whether we're 11 or 101. However, in this day and age, so many things can be easily googled that you don't need to shout every question you have into the VVorld VVide VVoid. If you need comic recs or a reading list, google it. If you wanna know a character's origin story, google it. If you need to know the color of Batman's underpants in a particular issue in 1965... well that's probably too specific for Google but Reddit will definitely have an answer.

2) The Middle School Authors

Before the 13-year-olds get up in my notes, I'm not saying everyone that age writes like this. Middle school is a state of mind. These fanfic writers usually stand out in a few ways.

They're oftentimes first-person POV or reader-insert. Give Y/N a break, she's tired.

The grammar is stunningly atrocious. I get if you're inexperienced or if you're writing in a second language, but we are in the prime era of autocorrect. If you need help, it's right there. Also, fuck c*nsoring b*d w*rds and fuck "unalive."

The characters do things that are out-of-character because the author is projecting their own personality. Bruce Wayne is a lot of things but he does not listen to the fucking Mountain Goats.

There's a lack of experience or research when it comes to certain topics. That's not how physics works. He can't walk that injury off. And that's definitely NOT how you do the horizontal hokey pokey.

3) The Neckbeards

Unfortunately, these basement-dwelling mouth-breathers tainted the image of what a comic fan is, though that's been changing recently. Still, we've all seen them. They gatekeep via pop quizzes, 'cause obviously you're not a real fan unless you know what page 10 of Batman #138 smells like. They give unsolicited commentary on people's cosplays, nitpicking the guys and being gross toward women. And heaven forbid the comics add a little diversity.

4) The Moviegoers

Nothing inherently wrong with getting into the fandom via the movies, nor is there anything wrong with sticking to that. I just feel like we're two different species of Galapagos finches, you know?

5) The Christopher Nolans

Separate from casual fans of the Nolan movies. I'm calling them the Christopher Nolans because these people have a tendency to reach for the grimdarkest thing possible. It's like they cannot fathom Batman having any other emotions besides punching and gargoyle brooding.

6) The Canon Purists

Wanna share a fun headcanon? NO, because Stephanie Brown never used cherry lip balm in the comics so therefore that must be the absolute truth. These people are a stickler for comic accuracy to the point where it's like... why bother interacting with the fandom in the first place? The worst part is when they're adamant on following a single continuity and refuse to consider anything else. This is comics we're talking about. Everything either has been or will be canon at some point.

7) The Fanon Worshippers

On the opposite end of the spectrum, we have the people who base their entire perception of the characters on something either they pulled out of their ass or that their mutual with 16 followers came up with, despite evidence directly contradicting it. I love WFA, but I feel like that's partially responsible for further perpetuating certain popular myths. Also, these fans tend to focus solely on the batfam/their ships. It's one thing to have some people in the foreground vs. background, but put some respect to Bart Allen's name you goddamn cheesecakes.

8) The Golden Age Dads

These guys aren't really obnoxious. I actually find it kind of cute how they think Jason Todd is still dead.

9) The Chronically Online

I have a rule of thumb when it comes to discourse: if it's not something I'd hear about at a bar, it's not worth my mental energy. Some people haven't gotten the memo, though.

These are either the well-intentioned but misinformed teenagers or grown-ass adults beefing with children because they don't have a life. They have takes that are oversimplified, rage-inducing, TikTok algorithm attention-grabbers that no one cares about in real life.

Don't get me wrong, we've got a bunch of issues in comics and fandom that are worth discussing. However, there comes a point where you're splitting hairs and need to go the fuck outside. I'm not gonna link the post 'cause I don't wanna call them and their 7 notes out, but the other week I saw someone saying Stephcass was a racist ship because something something colonialism parallel. You gotta be Elastigirl to have that kind of reach.

10) The Corporate Simps

I love comics. I appreciate the writers and artists. However, you will find my carcass in a ditch before you catch me licking the boots of DC/Warner Bros. Basically, these fans, fewer as they are, can't seem to fathom that their favorite franchise can (and does) put out some steaming motherfucking garbage.

11) The Hot Cosplayers

Not actually annoyed, I'm just a little jealous. Stop being hotter than me, please and thank you.

12) The One With A Punchline For Everything

Wait–

540 notes · View notes

suckerfordylansstuff · 4 months ago

Text

Not a date - Steve Harrington

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Henderson!reader

Summary: Dustin is certain you're dating someone. You, on the other hand, are not so sure.

Word count: 2.5k

Notes: As you can see we're changing the style with this new post. You could consider this kind of a small prequel for "A date like no other", but mostly, I just wanted to write more of Dustin and Y/n's relationship (more will follow, inspiration has hit me). Plus, it was fun playing detective. Hope you enjoy! 💕

!This piece goes along my Steve Harrington series "New Journey", but can also be read as a standalone!

Timeline: After the winter dance, but before their first date.

“I have gathered you here today on an important issue.” Dustin was pacing around Mike's basement while all the rest of his friends followed him with their eyes “It is crucial that we take upon this matter with focus and determination. Not to mention stealthiness since a bit of spy work is going to occur.”

“Dustin, why are we here?” his dramatics had Max over the whole thing very quickly.

“It has come to my attention that my sister, my own blood, has been seeing someone behind my back and simultaneously lying to me about it.”

“And?” Lucas asked, not understanding his friend’s anger.

“What do you mean and? This is it!”

“You’re mad your sister has finally found someone?” Will was trying to understand Dustin’s motives.

“I’m mad she hasn’t told me about it. I mean, why would she do that? I certainly tell her everything.” his pacing hasn’t stopped from the moment he entered the basement.

“Maybe because she wants to focus on the new relationship and not on her little brother’s obnoxious opinions?” Max told him with a smile, making Dustin stop in his tracks.

“You’re new, you don’t get a say.” he pointed in her direction and continued his pattern on the floor.

“Dustin, what do you want us to do?” Mike sighed when he saw Dustin place large papers on top of a chair, opposite to them, a pen in his hand as he settled beside them. It reminded him of their teacher, and not in a good way.

“I want you to come with me and spy on her.” he removed his first blank paper, revealing a calendar with colorful dots on certain days “It all started a month ago. I realized she began going out a lot more than usual. I mean I love my sister, but let’s be honest, she doesn’t have many friends.” he pulled out another paper, this time a pie chart with all the colors they had previously seen on the calendar “So, I began tracking her behavior. When she would go out, when she would return, and try to figure out with whom. So far, I’ve noted 14 outings in the span of 29 days… She went out with Jonathan twice, once with Nancy, once with you, Max, and you, Eleven, for girl’s night. Three times with all of us and another three with me. That all makes 10. The other 4 are a mystery to me.” with each sentence, each ‘clue’, he was pointing the pen at every chart so the rest wouldn’t get lost

“When she hangs out with friends, I have noticed Y/n coming back at a decent hour, say around 10:30, at least 11:00. However, when she’s ‘on her own’ those hours defer.” the new paper showed the said hours with a big question mark at the end “I have caught her sneaking into the house well after 1:00 am! Clearly, she’s not out there on her own. But I haven’t been able to figure out with whom. I checked with both Nancy and Jonathan telling me that they had not seen her those specific days. She’s clearly with someone doing something, but when I ask her about what she did and where she went she outright lies to me, saying she was with Jonathan and/or Nancy.” he let the last paper fall flat on the chair, the pen rhythmically hitting his other palm “It is our mission to figure out who she is meeting on these days, so I can evaluate if I need to step in and help her.”

The kids all looked at one another, trying to see if they wanted in on this. His thinking could be correct, but the thought of him being wrong and giving them the chance to mess with him is what sealed the deal.

“Alright, we’re in.” Mike announced for all of them. Dustin’s face immediately lit up.

“But how do we know when their next meet-up is?” Lucas asked him.

“Already ahead of you my friend.” he began organizing the papers he had used, stacking them into his bag before putting it on “I overheard Y/n talk with my mother, saying she’s going out. Again, wouldn’t outright tell me with whom. So that’s why I came here, to find out if Nancy had any plans. As it turns out she did. But not with my sister, with Jonathan. Right?” his eyes fell on Will.

“Yeah, they are hanging out at ours.” Will confirmed Dustin’s words.

“Okay, so that excludes them from this ‘secret meet up’.” Max thought out loud.

“Precisely.” they were now getting out of the house from the basement’s door, making their way to their bikes.

“So… Where is she?” Eleven asked, her small voice was now loud enough for all to hear, turning their heads at once to look at Dustin.

Dustin wasn’t sure at the beginning where his sister would be. She had mentioned she would leave around 8:30. Now, he had left earlier to check on her small lie at the Wheeler’s, so their first stop was at his house to check if her car was still there. It was, which meant either of two things. She either walked to their meeting place (which was unlikely of her after everything that had happened to them, walking somewhere alone was a no-no for his sister). Or the person she was meeting picked her up. It left a lot of options open so he decided to head inside with the rest and look for more clues.

His mom greeted them, chatting a bit with the kids while Dustin looked around for any indication as to where she went. He noticed that her sneakers were missing, telling Dustin that they weren’t going somewhere fancy, so maybe their destination was the theater or maybe grabbing a bite somewhere.

“Hey, mom. I was thinking of eating the leftover pizza from last night after I come back. Y/n didn’t eat it, right?” he looked over at his mom, Tews on her lap as always.

“Oh, no, Dusty, she specifically said that she didn’t want to have anything since she’ll be going out to eat with her friends.”

Bingo.

Dustin excluded from the options list the diner where you used to work. Too many people knew you there and the secrecy wouldn’t last. So, they began roaming around the town trying to get a glimpse of you. They succeeded after a couple of tries. Lucas had caught a glimpse of your figure inside the burger place. You were sitting in a corner booth in the back of the store, your face bright, not only by the lights of the place but by your present company as well.

“Holy shit. Dustin was right.” Max climbed out of her bike, staring at the older sister of her new friend.

“Of course I was. Can you see who she is with?”

“No, his back is turned.” Lucas tried to wiggle around in an attempt to see who was with you. They couldn’t go

We’re gonna have to get inside.” Mike noted and Dustin agreed.

“Not all of us, we’ll draw attention. Will, you’re coming with me.” the said boy wasted no time and followed his friend toward the entryway.

“Why him?” Mike called out, annoyed he wasn’t getting in on the action.

“Because he’ll be quiet, unlike you.” Dustin whisper-yelled.

They get inside and make their way to the end of the front counter. When they peaked at the back, they had a clearer shot at the two figures. Dustin could clearly see your big, bright smile, but the guy you were with was sitting opposite of you, meaning they could only see his back

“We still can’t see his face.”

“Wait… I know that hair.” Dustin’s eyes squinted as he focused on the person in question. The waiter had approached them, his lips moving, probably asking them if everything was okay. It was then when the mysterious guy turned his head, making him visible to him, a relieved sigh falling from his lips “Oh, it’s just Steve.”

He and Will went outside without alerting you, joining the others once again.

“Okay, people, crisis averted. It was only Steve, just a friendly meet-up.” he announced to his friends before he grabbed his bike, ready to return home.

“Sure.” Max smirked his way, suddenly making a frown appear on Dustin’s face.

“Uh… Dustin? I don’t think this is very friend-like.” Mike was pointing to the restaurant. Dustin turned and met the horror. Steve had now switched his seat, joining you on your side. His arm was around your shoulders, your faces way too close for his liking. And then it happened. Steve kissed you.

Dustin was waiting for you to return back home. He was in the dark, his mother fast asleep, not realizing her own son was stewing hot. He was ready. Ready to tell you he knows your secret and ready to express his anger. He liked Steve, he didn’t like showing it, but he did. He was funny and honest with him, and a guy. He had a guy friend. Someone whom he could rely on when seeking advice. He knew he could come to you about everything, but sometimes he felt too embarrassed to say certain things. He was getting older, more ‘mature’ as his mother had said, and Steve had been through those things before, therefore could give him the advice he needed.

He liked Steve, but now he was afraid he was going to lose him… and you. You always wanted to be in a relationship and now that you were in one, you were going to spend all your time with each other, forgetting all about the party and mainly him. Or you would eventually break up and he would have to choose your side, his sister’s, and forcing him to say goodbye to his friend.

It all felt unacceptable to him, so he had to tell you about it.

Finally, he heard a car stop outside. After a couple of minutes, your keys were daggling as you opened the door. He watched you come inside, a lingering smile on your face as you took off your jacket and placed it on the hook beside the door. You were in the process of taking off your shoes when he decided to intervene.

“Hello, sister.”

He startled you, a small yelp coming from your lips as you squinted your eyes to see where your brother was hiding “Dustin? What are you doing in the dark? Do you know what time it is?”

“Do you?” he countered back, catching you by surprise

“What?”

“How was your night?”

“Oh… It was really fun actually, thanks for asking. But this still doesn’t answer my question as to what you’re still doing up.” your arms were now folded in front of your chest, thinking you had the upper hand here.

“Oh, I just had a simple question really. Who were you with?”

It took you a second to form your question, confusion rising inside you “What?”

“I was over at Mike’s today and I stumbled upon Nancy.” Dustin stood up from the armchair and walked closer to you as he explained “I asked her if she was on her way to come get you, but she told me she wasn’t meeting with you. She was actually going to meet up with Jonathan for a date at his place.”

“Oh…” was all that came from your lips.

“I know who you met tonight. I followed you and found out you are secretly dating Steve.” his finger was accusingly pointing at your figure. He didn’t know what reaction he was really expecting from you but it certainly wasn’t what you said next.

“I’m not dating him, Dustin.”

“Wait, what?”

“We’re not dating.” you shrugged your shoulders and sat down on the couch.

“But he kissed you. I saw it!”

“I don’t know what to tell you, okay? It’s all very confusing.” your head your resting on top of your palms. You looked defeated, confused, sad, a whole different side of you than the one he had seen at the restaurant. He slowly approached you, sitting next to you. You looked up and saw him looking at you, a silent invitation to explain “It all started after we dropped you off at the ball. We happened to dance a little and it ended in a kiss. After that, we’ve been hanging out as much as we could and, yes, I admit, some kissing has gone down, but I don’t know what we are.”

Dustin noted that your voice was small but your feeling big “Do you like him?”

You looked up and locked eyes with your brother. You hadn’t been able to tell no one this, and you had no idea how much it was eating at you to get it out before this conversation “Very much.”

“Then I’m certain it will all work out.”

And just like that Dustin had forgotten all about his speech. He could still remember the way you smiled at him, thanking him with a big hug. It was the same smile when you picked up the phone, a couple of days later, Steve’s name falling from your lips. It was a soft one, your focus entirely on the voice coming from the phone, from his friend. When you finally hung up, a small shriek sounded all around the room. After just a moment he found out you were excited, beyond excited because he had asked you out on a date.

“Didn’t you go on one like yesterday?” he had asked.

“This is the first time he uses the word date, Dustin. The first time!”

He secretly smiled at your antics, even if in front of you he called it gross. When you returned home after that so-called ‘first date’, bliss was written all over your face. The next day, you all were meeting with the party for a campaign, the first time you would include Steve in your game. The first time he would see you two together officially for the first time. It was funny seeing him make all the wrong decisions and getting himself killed in the first thirty minutes. It was hilarious seeing you and him bicker about what you should do next. Steve making it his business to judge you all based on your actions. And it was certainly sweet when he would cheer with you after a successful roll. It didn’t seem all that different to him; your behavior.

It was after the campaign when Steve was talking his ear off on the way to their house about what movie you should see at the next movie night with the kids, that it truly hit him. Nothing would change. You would still be his sister and Steve would still be his friend. It couldn’t be that bad. Especially, if he saw his sister so happy every day.

If you want to be tagged just ask!

Taglist: @bookscoffeandotherstuff @i-am-the-coffee-queen @bi-andready-tocry @enchantedcruelsummer @daddystevee @elite4cekalyma @hayadora @hannarudick @thecaptainsgingersnap @lookalivesunshine-x @sarasmismyonlydefence @astream-ofconsciousness @the-haikyuu-hoe @mileven-reddie @mochminnie @synonymforlame @teamkiall @samanthadegaro @the-passionate-freak @thesailbells @i-mmunity @marvelouspottering @mrs-diggory @mydarlingharry @beepbeephargrove @mikariell95 @sweetdreamsshifter @paninipress @anolddayslover @10minutesofscreentime @bookfrog242 @onecrazydirectioner @harrycanyonmoonn @grippleback-galaxy @doctorsgirl262 @mayonesavegana @inkpot-winters @le-who-zer-her @mysticgardenpolice @untitledarea @kahhorri

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington fanfic #dustin henderson #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x you

180 notes · View notes

shotos-wifeyy · 6 months ago

Text

A hard day of training. shoto is exhausted and upset. you want to make him feel… a little bit better.

NSFW WARNING

You’re sitting in shoto’s dorm, clicking away at your computer and writing stuff down at his desk. Aizawa gave you a last minute assignment, you are trying to finish it so you can help shoto with his when he gets home. it’s very late, maybe 11:00pm and you have school the next morning.

Shoto eventually walks in, panting and sweating in his workout clothes. he groans as he wipes his face off with a towel and collapses on his bed.

“well hi to you too.” You scoff.

He raises a thumbs up before waving you off.

“what’s up your ass?” you ask.

He sits up, leaning on his back hands and staring at you. “my father.”

“Him again? what now.”

He nods and sighs, running a hand down his face. “He thinks he has so much power now that i’m doing the internship with him.”

“didnt he make you do the internship with him?” You ask, tilting your head.

He groans and flops back down “don’t remind me.”

You frown and get out from his desk, sitting down and crawling over to him, he eyes you from where he lays. “what?” he asked, unamused.

“i’m worried about you” You whisper.

“There’s nothing we can do about it” He sighs. “You gonna sleep in here? if not i would head out so i can sleep.” He shuts his eyes.

He’s never been one to push you out so easily, so you know he’s had a rough day. “want to get it out of your system?” You ask.

He raises and eyebrow as he looks at you, only opening one eye. “what? by beating up my father? i wish.”

“no i mean like….” You nudge him. He just looks at you confusion written on his face. “like… doing stuff your father wouldn’t approve of.”

“arson?” He replies.

“no” You pout.

“Murder.”

“no??!”

“Drugs… no! selling illegal drugs?!”

“shoto!” You drop your jaw “i ment sex?! jesus your mind is corrupted.”

He blushes heavily and sits up. “As much as i would love to have sex with you right now, i can barely move my legs.” He frowns.

“damn. never thought i’d see the day you would turn me down for that. are you toga?” You mock, tilting your head.

He groans. “this again? My favorite color is white, my favorite food is cold soba, and my size is-“

“WOAH okay okay your not toga!”

He looks at you in confusion. “You’ve seen it many times. why don’t you want me talking about it all of a sudden?”

“shoto istg”

After a bit of banter you help him to get changed and settle down with him, you wrapped in his arms.

“You sure?” You ask, pouting slightly.

“yes i’m sure.” He also kind of pouts. “aizawa will be upset if nither of us can walk tomorrow… i don’t want to drag you into that”

“lame” you snuggle your head into his chest. he places a soft kiss on your hair.

You run your hands over his chest, reaching under his shirt. his breath hitches but he dosent protest. You slowly move your hand down and he grabs your wrist.

“Y/n, Don’t tease me right now.”

“i’m not teasing!” You pout. “i want to make you feel better…”

He looks at you, a kind of look that can kill a man. He pushes a stand of hair behind your ear and leans his head back onto his pillow, dropping your wrist.

You slowly slide your hand down, placing with the hem of his boxers as his breath speeds up slightly.

You keep your eyes locked on his face to watch his expressions as you slowly slide your hand down and wrap around him. he sucks in a shaky breath, one hand moving to hold your thigh, the other softly grabbing the sheets. You bite your lip. He lifts his hips, practically begging for friction.

“thought you said you were too tired?” You giggle.

“Shut up, y/n…”

You move your hand softly, up and down, nice and slow, ignoring the small amount of precum on your hand from when you teased the tip. He clentches his teeth, trying to hold back noises as he grips onto your thigh.

You sped up a bit, tightening your grip, hand hitting his leg slightly. he lets out a soft moan, hand gripping onto the sheets as he arches his back into your hand.

“fuck y/n..” He breaths, moaning.

“mm.. does that feel good lovey?” You speed up.

He tries to say something but can’t even get a word out as he moans and pants. You slow down, making sure to get all of his length for a few thrusts of your hand, before moving back up and fast again.

He’s jerking his hips into your hand, rubbing hard circles into your thigh and gripping occasionally. After a while of you speeding up and his back arching he speaks up.

“i-i’m so close-“

“Come on… let go~” You sooth.

He lets out a breathy, loud moan of your name after a few more strokes. a warm liquid seeps onto your hand and you grin, touching him a bit more to help him come down from his high.

You get up to the bathroom and wash your hands, coming back with a rag to wash him and his bed down. he’s panting and staring at the ceiling as he slowly comes back to reality.

When you finish cleaning and fix his boxers, he pulls you onto his chest and snuggles his head into your neck.

“thank you..” He mumbles, hot breath hitting your skin.

“of corse my love…” you pet his hair tenderly, kissing his forehead.

“when i feel better…i’m gonna pay you back for this”

Your eyes widen. “t-that’s not nesacary-“

He locks eyes with you. enjoy walking while you can. you’ll be out of commission for a few days soon.

for now, your snuggled up in his arms. the only sound is your soft, in sync breathing.

“think your father would approve of that?” You ask.

“definitely not.” He huffs.

“hurray!”

#mha shoto #my hero academia #my hero acedamia #shoto todoroki #shoto x reader #shoto x y/n #shouto x you #shouto todoroki x reader #todoroki x reader #shouto x reader #smut

248 notes · View notes

cosmerelists · 2 months ago

Text

Favorite Video Game Genres of Cosmere Characters

As requested by @thesternest :)

1. Silence

Silence: Don't know why, really, but I like casual games, games that are just like real life. Silence: Something about doing your daily life, but in game form--very relaxing. William Anne: Uh, mama? I think "Silent Hill" is a survival-horror game. Silence: It is? How so?

2. Marasi

Marasi: [Looks around nervously] Marasi: I...well, I like first-person shooters. Marasi: I-I just like to pretend I'm in the Roughs, like Wax! Marasi: I don't want to be Wax in real life or anything, but...it can be fun in a game!

3. Dalinar

Dalinar: In real life, war is a terrible necessity. Dalinar: In games, war is fun. Dalinar: ... Dalinar: I like tactical RPGs.

4. Vin

Vin: Huge fan of platform games. Vin: Jumping from ledge to ledge, controlling my speed and trajectory, occasionally swinging from hooks or managing double jumps... Vin: It's just like moving through the city as a Mistborn! Elend: Your high-score is RIDICULOUS, Vin! Vin: I'm also REALLY good at it.

5. Yumi

Yumi: I wasn't allowed video games for a long time, but now that I can play them... Yumi: [eyes sparking] I've become a HUGE fan of visual novels! Yumi: It's like Seasons of Regret, only *I* can be the one making the choices!

6. Leshwi

Leshwi: Like many Fused and Singers, I find myself quite taken with Rhythm games. Leshwi: Now that it is no longer appropriate for me to fight the Windrunners, I do like to challenge them to Dance Dance Revolution instead. Kaladin: OH COME ON I DEFINITELY HAD THAT Leshwi: I always win.

7. Steris

Steris: I used to think games were a waste of time, but then Wax introduced me to these construction simulators. Steris: My city is a paradise with excellent infrastructure, logical layout, and plenty of greenspace. Wayne: You should try to mod that makes a tsunami hit your city! Steris: Oh please, I beat that mod yesterday on my first try.

8. Navani

Navani: Recently, I've gotten into Tower Defense games. Sibling: I can defend myself, thank you very much.

9. Vivenna

Vivenna: Love a good roguelike. Vivenna: It's something about trying it over and over again until you're perfect. Vivenna: The victory is sooo sweet when you've worked hard to achieve it, dying many times. Siri: Oh me too!! I especially like Hades--the art is AMAZING. Vivenna: (scoffs) You mean a rogue-lite? Siri: I'm telling you--you should try one! Getting powerups in between runs is pretty sweet. Vivenna: Hedging out a difficult victory after hours of blood, sweat and tears is also fun! Siri: If you say so...

10. Lightsong

Lightsong: Soooo addicted to Candy Crush. Lighsong: Can't even tell you why. Llarimar: Perhaps your divine eye is drawn to the bright colors. Lightsong: Whatever makes you feel better, Scoot.

11. Adolin

Adolin: Lately I've become completely engrossed with life simulators. Adolin: I make my character get up, make breakfast, go to work, go on dates, learn the piano... Adolin: WHY IS IT SO ADDICTING?? Shallan: This may be a sign that your actual life is incredibly stressful and the allure of a simple, daily life is drawing you in? Adolin: No, that doesn't sound right... Shallan: You want to date a bisexual vampire? Adolin: ...That could be it.

12. Rlain

Rlain: I'm quite taken with these cozy farming games. Rlain: You just build a nice farm, meet the villagers, explore around. Renarin: Rlain, please, it's been six hours! Rlain: Just one more day...

13. Tress

Tress: I've been enjoying survival games! Tress: It's fun to gather and cook and build a base! Tress: A little bit unrealistic, because the rain doesn't make anything explode, but I guess they wanted to make it easier than real life, not harder.

14. Shallan

Shallan: It has to be MMOs for me. Shallan: I like a game where I can do pretty much anything I want. Shallan: Advance the story, collect every type of mushroom, fill in the whole map... Shallan: Plus, I like leveling every class and giving each one their own outfit and personality. Veil: You named the rogue after me, I see. Shallan: It's a compliment.

15. Kelsier

Kelsier: There's only one type of game for me: and that's a game where the name of the, uh, game is survival. Kelsier: And I especially like it when you have to survive as a team. Kelsier: Especially against great odds--like lots and lots of real-life players. Kelsier: Yup, yup. Kelsier: It's all about Fornite for me.

#cosmere #cosmerelists #Dalinar #Shallan #Adolin #Rlain #Leshwi #Vin #Kelsier #Shadow #Tress #Yumi #Vivenna #Lightsong

147 notes · View notes

feyhunter78 · 7 months ago

Text

Chapter Ten - In the cold light of day, many things are bound to change.

Ch 11

The drinks had addled his mind, but not as much as the scent of you, the feel of you, the taste of you has. He wishes to taste you again, and again, to hear you scream his name, to feel your teeth bite down on him, marking him as your own.

You drew blood, his ferocious lioness, broke the skin of his arm, marked him well. He hopes it stays, if not he will have to bring you to climax again and again until it does.

Jon curls his arm around you, basking in the warmth of your skin, in the way you draw nonsensical shapes on his chest. Your hands are so soft, your nails perfect, there has never been dirt or blood under them, and no callouses cover your palms. Those very palms which he brings to his lips, kissing them reverently. The sun shines down on you, the call of the morning birds floating in through your open window.

“Now, will you tell me who got you drunk?” You ask, smiling at him with the radiance of the sun.

“Both had a hand in it, though I must admit the presence of Joffrey did not help matters.”

You sit up, the smile slipping from your face, a storm cloud pulled over the sun. “You must leave, now, now Jon, back to your post.” You slide from the bed and gather his tunic and your stockings, throwing the flimsy fabric under the bed and his tunic to him, then you rummage around for a night shift, quickly slipping behind a folding screen and changing.

He pulls his tunic on, just in time for the knock at the door, your aunt’s voice calling through the door.

“Dear y/n, are you awake?” Her voice is sickly sweet, and it makes his head ache.

You grab a robe and wrap it around your night shift, throwing yourself into a chair by the long dead fire, pretending you had been reading.

Jon opens the door, giving the Dowager Queen a bow, ignoring the way the world spins as he lifts his head once more.

“Aunt Cersei, is there something I can help you with?” You ask, looking up at her with an undeniable air of innocence.

She scans the room, her eyes narrowing at Jon. “Leave us.”

Jon bristles, but at your nod leaves, taking his post up at the door, looking around before pressing his ear to the crack in the wood.

“Is it not odd that he spends so much time in your chambers?” He hears your aunt ask.

“I do not think so, Uncle Jamie spends much time with you in your chambers, and that is not odd.” You say, your voice light, your tone cheery.

“We are siblings y/n, of course it is not.” Cersei’s words have ice threaded within, and Jon bites back a laugh. You always know just what card to play.

“People will talk y/n, you must stamp out this childish affection you have for him, it will scare away potential suitors.” She scolds, her heels clicking as she moves about the room.

“If it scares them away then they are clearly easily frightened, I do not wish to marry a coward.”

“Do not confuse jealousy with cowardice, sweet girl.”

“I am not.”

“Do not think me a fool, I know it is enjoyable to take a guard to bed, but you are unmarried still, you cannot take such risks.”

He lurches away from your door, leaning against the wall, his head spinning. When was the last time he had drank so much? Surely it has been years, and the occasional glass of wine he has with you was clearly not enough to keep up his tolerance.

It is hot in the hall, his skin feels feverish, and he pushes up the sleeves of his tunic, before realizing how it exposes the bite mark on his arm. He strokes his fingertips over the skin, smiling to himself. Then the guilt comes, barreling towards him like a battering ram. What has he done? Stripped you nearly bare, feasted upon you, and marked you like a savage. What was he thinking? Shame comes next, overtaking the heat lingering from the alcohol, coloring his skin, and worsening the pounding in his head.

He needs to apologize. As soon as Cersei has left your chambers, he will do so. Will ask that you forgive him, that you pretend it had never happened, he was so close, too close, dangerously close to taking more than a simple taste. If you had asked him to bed you? He does not think his strength of will would have held. Perhaps if he was sober. But then he never would have done as he had without the courage gifted to him by an overindulgence of spirits.

He stands behind you as all gathered watch Margaery and Joffrey join hands, smiling and laughing at the players. You pick at your food, your hair curled gracefully, your wrists, fingers, neck, and ears adorned with jewels, a show of wealth, of power by your father.

“Do try to eat, My Lady, or you will not have the stamina for dancing.” He urges softly. It is not dancing he fears you will not have the stamina for, but placating Joffrey. It is his wedding; all must bow and grovel before him.

You do as he asks, averting your eyes when the dancers make a mockery of your father, of his injury during the Battle of Blackwater.

Margaery’s laughter rings high and clear at something Joffrey says, and a dislike for the woman grows in his chest. He knows she is playing a part, but could she play it in a way that does not worsen your pain?

Gifts are brought out, swords, books, gold, jewelry, spices, all tossed aside by Joffrey who demands more and more. It is not until the gifts have run out, and the music begins again, does Joffrey call for you.

You approach the head table, curtsying and congratulating him on his wedding.

“Cousin, I noticed I did not receive a gift from you.” Joffrey says, toying with a wine glass in his hand.

You put on a secretive smile, your mask slipping into place. “Ah, yes well, I gave it to your Lady Wife directly, it is for after the wedding.”

He laughs, beckoning you further forward, his arms outstretched. “A loyal subject you are cousin, your generosity is noted.”

You return his embrace easily, placing a kiss on his cheek. “Your happiness is my own, My King.”

“I shall have to return your generosity. I know my mother spoke to you about lining up some new suitors for you, after the wedding celebrations have finished, I will send out a notice to all our bannermen.”

You blink in surprise but keep a radiant smile on your face. “I thank you, but please do not rush your festivities for me.”

Jon can see the ease in your form when Margaery embraces you as well, holding you a moment longer than needed before pulling back with a bright smile. “You honor us, dear cousin.”

“I hope she strangles him with my gift.” You grumble, once you are far enough away from the head table, smoothing out the nonexistent wrinkles in your gown.

“Her arms are far too small, perhaps her brother will do it for her.” Jon jests, pride swelling in his chest at your small smile.

He watches as you dance, catching your eye mid-twirl, your fingertips barely brushing against your partner’s. You look so beautiful, and he is impatient, bouncing slightly on his heels, knowing that he has claimed your next dance. The song ends and Jon wastes no time, nodding at your previous partner and taking your hand in his, falling in step with you as the music swells, a new song beginning.

“You did not tell me your aunt spoke of new suitors.” He says, his fingers splayed on your midback, hidden among the throng of dancers no one will see.

“I did not because it will not come about, she will forget, or my father will dissuade her.” You say, leaving his arms for a moment to spin out, your skirts flaring around your ankles like waves, the fabric a muted red, the embroidery golden, but duller. It is more bronze, catching the sunlight in a way that reminds him of Grey Wind’s eyes.

You spin back into him, and his hands ghost over your hips before returning to their proper place. “Let us pray he succeeds.”

You smile, a true smile, he knows you love dancing, that it lightens your heart. “If he does not, then will many houses lose their sons? Your blade will taste blood once more?”

He cannot help but smile back, leaning into your game as he lifts you in time with the others. Your weight is nothing, a mere feather to him, and for a moment you look like a goddess suspended in the air. “Yes, I suspect you will find me far more bloodthirsty than before if I must stand by and watch little lordlings fall all over themselves to impress you.”

You giggle, and brush your fingers over his forearm, where the imprint of your teeth still remains, much to his delight. “I think I am perfectly capable of enduring a bout of blood thirst from you.”

He goes to retort, to teasingly call you a little minx, his personal temptress, his beloved and beautiful tormentor, when a giant pie is wheeled out before Joffrey and Margaery.

You stop, along with most of the other dancers, to watch as Joffrey cuts into the pie, doves scatter into the air and servants whisk plates of pie around. A plate is set before your place at the table, from the spot Joffrey had cut into, and you pick it up, but decline another other on Jon’s behalf.

“Perhaps I wished for a slice of pie, My Lady?” He teases, his voice low, mindful of those around you.

“You will not like it; the latticing is flavored with almond oil.” You take a bite, then wrinkle your nose. “Gods, that is awful, and I like almonds.”

His heart lurches in his chest. You remember he does not like almonds. He had said it only once, during his first year in your service, and yet you remembered.

“Now you see why I avoid them.”

You put your plate down and took a sip of your wine to wash out the taste.

Then Margaery screams, the sound shattering the merry ambiance, startling the wine glass from your hand. Joffrey is choking, his face turning red then purple, his hands at his throat as Margaery screams again. Jon faintly hears Lady Olenna Tyrell’s call for aid, then Joffrey falls, crashes into the table, his face and fine doublet covered in pie. The kingsguard rush forward, the maester as well, lifting the boy-king as Cersei’s eyes sweep around the room. Accusations are flying around the room until finally someone is able to escort the Dowager Queen away.

You sit frozen, your eyes locked on Joffrey, your gown splattered with wine. A flash of gold, Tommen, Jon notes, darts past, unnoticed by you.

“Ser Jon, escort my daughter back to her chambers.” Tyrion orders, his hand on Ser Jamie’s forearm, the far taller man leaning on his brother and the table for support.

Ser Loras has gathered Margaery up in his arms, guiding his sister away from her deceased husband. The guests, still frightened and confused, arguing amongst themselves as the kingsguard try and fail to calm them.

“Tommen, where is Tommen?” Ser Jamie asks, his eyes wide, wild with fright as he vaults over the table.

That startles you into action, and you follow him, screaming your cousin’s name.

Jon moves to follow as well, but Tyrion’s hand on his calf stops him. “Jamie will protect her, if need be, the wheel has already begun to turn.”

His heart is in his throat, hands clenching and unclenching, his eyes constantly moving, scanning the Great Hall.

Finally, you reappear, Ser Jamie at your side, Tommen in his arms, the boy’s face red and wet with tears. You coo over him, his smaller hand in yours as you walk back to the side table, keeping Joffrey’s body out of Tommen’s sight.

Tommen is eight namedays old, but he looks younger held in his father’s arms.

“We should retire to the Queen’s solar; our family must stand together if we are to survive this tragedy.” Ser Jamie says grimly, his jaw set, his eyes a dark shade of emerald like yours are filled to the brim with unspoken emotion.

“Well said, Brother, the pride must stand together.” Tyrion says, giving Tommen a small smile.

Jon falls behind you and your family, hand on the pommel of his sword. Was this part of the plan? He cannot imagine Lord Tyrion would poison his own nephew, no matter how horrid the boy-king was.

The Dowager Queen’s wailing could be heard through the door, and Ser Jamie passes Tommen off to you, the boy now on his feet sniffling, and holding onto your skirts.

“Allow me a moment.” Ser Jamie says softly, easing the door open and slipping inside.

You smooth down Tommen’s hair. “It is alright.”

Tommen nods solemnly, far too solemnly for a child so young. “Now it is.”

You bite your lip and look up towards the ceiling, tears collecting on your lashes.

Jon longs to reach out, to comfort you, but he cannot, not here, not now.

The door to the Dowager Queen’s solar cracks open, and one by one the Lannisters head inside. Jon moves to join you, but Ser Jamie stops him, taking a step further into the hall and closing the door behind him.

“Jon, if I might speak frankly with you?” Ser Jamie looks down at his boots, his eyes red.

“Aye.” A pit forms in his stomach.

“I am sorry.”

“For what, Ser Jamie?”

The eldest Lannister purses his lips, a habit of yours as well, one Jon has never known where it came from, but now he does. “I have not done right by you; I have encouraged you to make the wrong choices.”

If a woman is your heart’s desire, then it matters not if she is married, if you are, if you have vows or codes preventing you. A man must always seize his heart’s desire lest he dies never having known, never having even tried.

Ser Jamie’s words to him those many nights ago as they shared drinks and stories had emboldened him, given him the strength to go to your chambers and act.

“Honor, duty, it will keep your head attached to your neck, and it will keep your heart in your chest where it belongs.” He places his hand on Jon’s shoulder. “I like you Jon, you are a good man, an even better swordsman, but she is my niece…”

“I would never dishonor her.” Jon says, and it is true, he would not, he had slipped, overly indulged himself, but soon Tyrion would announce your betrothal, and his actions would not seem dishonorable, not even in his memories.

Ser Jamie’s grip on his shoulder tightens, and he looks Jon in the eyes, a desperation in them. “I know you will try not to, but y/n is a Lannister, she is more my sister her aunt, than her mother. They are persuasive, stubborn, and beautiful, many men have fallen at their feet, many more will. Ensure you are not one of them, not again.”

“You know?” Jon asks, before he can stop the foolish words from escaping.

“I all but sent you to her that night, I wanted…” He looks away, and Jon is struck by the shame, the agony he sees in the older man’s expression. “I wanted her to know what it is like to be loved. My sister will marry her off to a wealthy house, it is what she thinks best for y/n and there can be no promise of love in her marital bed, but with you? I can see you love her Jon, and I fear she returns your affections, so I hoped that perhaps one night would be enough to sustain her in her years to come. I did not think of the consequences.”

“I did not take her maidenhood.”

Shock ripples across Ser Jamie’s face.

“I will not chance leaving her with a bastard, I will not tarnish her name.”

Ser Jamie’s head drops, a sigh of relief audibly flowing through him. “You are a good man, Jon Snow. Better than I.”

“My Lady speaks of you fondly; she does not think you a bad man.” Jon says, and it is true, you adore your uncle, even if what he has done with your aunt disgusts you.

Ser Jamie smiles sadly and squeezes Jon’s shoulder before he lets go. “My sweet niece, beautiful and perfect, everything like her mother in looks, but in her ability to forgive me? That is all, Tyrion, I do not deserve the grace they give me.”

“Then it rests upon your shoulder to act in a way that makes you deserving of it, does it not?”

Ser Jamie laughs, the sound hollow, stained with grief, worn down by time. “I suppose it does.”

Jon inclines his head towards the door. “Shall we?”

“I must ask you to wait out here, this is a family matter.” Ser Jamie says, his voice soft, almost apologetic.

“I understand.”

“Worry not, I am sure y/n will bite my head off for separating the two of you.” Ser Jamie then gives him a smile and pulls open the door, disappearing inside.

TL: @mostclevermiss, @solacestyles, @2valentines, @sharknutz, @idohknow, @bdudette, @pluraldoggo

#meg's writing #jon snow imagine #jon snow x y/n #jon snow x reader #jon snow x you #lannister!reader #jon snow

157 notes · View notes

lefteagleblizzard · 28 days ago

Text

𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢 𝔴𝔢 𝔩𝔬𝔰𝔱

Mike Schmidt x male reader

A request that I received from a friend on tumblr. ‘The reader has to leave for a week roughly, when he comes back Abby is obviously excited and wanting to play with the reader the rest of the day. But all Mike wants to do is have you under him writhing in ecstasy. Basically it's Mike having blue balls for most of the fic until the end when it's night and he *politely* hugs the reader while they frantically make love’

Tags: Part 10 of this miniseries of Mike Schmidt x male reader. No use of Y/N. Age-gap (5 years) between you and Mike. Male reader. He/him pronouns used towards the reader. Mike is missing you deeply. A tiny bit of jealousy. Mentions of phone sex. Smut. Top Mike. Bottom reader. Anal sex.

Words count: 3000 words

Part 1-Part 2-Part 3-Part 4-Part 5-Part 6-Part 7-Part 8-Part 9-Part 11

Can also be found on wattpad and ao3

The moment you stepped through the door, Abby's squeal echoed through the house. You barely had time to set your bag down before she came bounding toward you, her little arms outstretched. She wrapped herself around your waist in an enthusiastic hug, nearly knocking you off balance.

"You're back! You're back!" she cried, hopping on her toes as if to emphasize the sheer force of her excitement.

You laughed, ruffling her hair affectionately. "Missed me that much?"

She pulled back, her face a mixture of indignation and joy. "Of course I missed you! You've been gone forever!" She tugged at your hand insistently, her small fingers gripping tightly. "You have to see what I did while you were gone. I drew a lot! And I made one for you and you have to see it."

"Abby, take it easy, you're going to knock him over," Mike's voice came from the kitchen, casual but unmistakably warm. "He has been gone a week and you've got him chained to you already?"

"I missed you too," you said with a grin before kneeling down to meet Abby’s eye level. "Have you been good while I was gone? Not driving your brother too crazy, I hope?"

Abby giggled, then held out her pinky. "Promise I've been super good. Except maybe when I made Mike drop the spaghetti last night because I tried to do a cartwheel in the kitchen."

You glanced up at Mike, your smile widening. “Sounds like I missed quite a week.”

Mike rolled his eyes, though the faintest smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

"Sorry about her," his lips twitching into a faint smirk. "She's been talking about you all week. You'd think you were gone for months." His voice sent a pleasant shiver through you, low and steady but edged with amusement.

"She's fine," you said, smiling. "Honestly, it's nice to be missed."

He leaned against the doorframe, the dim lighting catching the tired creases under his eyes. Black hair messy t-shirt that clung to his lean but sturdy frame. His gaze lingered on you and only now did you realize how much you had missed him.

Abby, oblivious to the silent tension, kept tugging at your hand. "Come on! I need to show you something!" Her excitement bubbled over, her small hands pulling you toward her room with surprising strength. "I drew so many things while you were gone and you have to see them all!".

You glanced over at Mike, offering him a half-apologetic smile as his sister guided you by her room. He leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, his lips twitching between amusement and thinly veiled frustration.

Mike's brow arched slightly as though to say, ‘Really? After a week away, you're prioritizing her?’ But he didn't speak his protest aloud. Instead, he pushed off the doorway with a grunt, muttering, "Guess I'll just... wait my turn."

The room was a kaleidoscope of colors, with crayon drawings taped to the walls, scattered across the floor and piled on her tiny desk. Abby flopped onto the carpet, pulling out a stack of drawings with the urgency of someone sharing top-secret information. "Okay, okay! Look at this one first. It's Chica but I made her of a different color."

You chuckled, sitting cross-legged beside her as she thrust the drawing into your hands. “A total masterpiece."

Her eyes sparkled at your praise. "You think so? Look at this one!" She shuffled through the pile, pulling out another one that she eagerly handed to you.

"This one is us at the park," she explained, holding up a crayon drawing of the three of you surrounded by flowers and trees. "Those two are you and Mike holding hands! I drew it because you're always together."

You couldn't help but laugh softly, feeling a tinge of embarrassment but also a deep sense of affection. "You're quite the artist, Abby. I look amazing here. You're going to be famous one day."

Her eyes lit up at the compliment, and she beamed with pride. "Really?"

"Absolutely," you assured her, glancing at Mike. "Right, Mike?"

From the bed, where Mike had sprawled out with all the ease of a man trying to keep his patience in check, a low sound of approval erupted. He smirked at the question, his gaze flickering between you and Abby. "Yeah, kid. You've got some real talent. Be careful, though. Keep going like this and his ego's going to get too big." His dark eyes watched you intently, softening ever so slightly every time Abby smiled at you.

Abby's grin widened and she immediately dove into her stack of drawings to find more to show you. Mike's smirk softened into a fond smile as he watched her animatedly interact with you. He loved seeing you and Abby bond, though his gaze kept drifting to you, lingering on the curve of your back as you leaned forward, the way your lips quivered when you laughed and the soft glow in your eyes as you encouraged Abby.

A part of him felt guilty for how often his mind wandered, but he couldn't stop the flood of thoughts. He knew he should focus on the moment, but his body's reaction to having you so close after a week apart was impossible to ignore

He clenched his jaw, trying to focus on the mundane but his gaze kept wandering back to you. Your fingers brushed hers as you helped her shuffle through the pile of pictures, your laughter soft and genuine as you let her talk about her latest dream.

‘God, those hands...’ his eyes lingering on the way your fingertips moved. He didn't mean to stare, but the memory of those same hands clutching his shoulders, clawing at his back, sent a flash of heat straight to his core.

He shifted uncomfortably on the bed, feigning disinterest as his thoughts betrayed him. The view of the way you leaned slightly forward, the curve of your spine visible through your shirt made it ten times worse. He wondered, for the briefest of moments, what it would feel like to have you there on the floor, pinned beneath him, the softness of your moans muffled against his lips.

Abby leaned against your shoulder, holding up another picture. This one was clearly meant to be Mike, his hair a chaotic swirl of black scribbles. "This one's you, Mike! I made his hair messy because it's always like that." she exclaimed, holding up a surprisingly decent rendition of his perpetual frown.

"It's not always messy," he protested half-heartedly. He was leaning against the bed frame, one leg propped up, his head tilted lazily against the wall. You turned toward him with a grin. "She's not wrong, though."

Mike shot you a glare, though there was no real malice behind it. "I see you've both decided to team up on me. Great. Just what I needed after a long week." he muttered.

Abby giggled, unfazed by his grumbling as she kept eagerly pulling out new drawings she made

His eyes softened at the sight of you and Abby together. She was sitting so close to you, practically in your lap, her small hand tugging at your sleeve as she babbled on about her next masterpiece. It was enough to make his heart ache, both from the warmth of seeing you bond with her and the sharp sting of jealousy that you weren't paying attention to him.

He let his head fall back against the wall, staring at the ceiling as he tried to shake the frustration bubbling in his chest. He shouldn't feel like this. Abby was a kid and she deserved every bit of your attention. But damn it, he'd missed you. A week without you had felt like an eternity and now that you were here, he had to sit back and wait?

His fingers twitched at the memory of the previous night at work. Alone in the security office, watching the flickering monitors, the silence stretching endlessly. It had been another slow, uneventful shift, the kind that made every second feel like an hour.

One second he was leaning against the chair, the next he got up and grabbed the nearby phone and dialed the number of the structure you were in.

He'd called you on impulse, not even sure you'd pick up so late.

"Mike?" Your voice had been groggy but laced with concern. "It's, like, two in the morning. Are you okay?"

The sound of your voice had been a balm to his frayed nerves. “Yeah," he'd said, leaning back in the chair, the phone pressed tightly to his ear. "I'm fine. Just... bored. Wanted to hear your voice." His tone had shifted, growing rougher, more deliberate.

There'd been a pause, and then a soft chuckle. "You miss me that much, huh?"

He hadn't denied it. He couldn't. Instead, he'd let the words tumble out, his voice dropping to a husky murmur as he told you how much he'd been thinking about you. And God, the way you'd responded, your voice growing softer, breathier, as the conversation took a turn he hadn't dared hope for.

By the end of it, he'd been a mess, stroking himself as your whispered moans filled his ear. He'd closed his eyes, picturing you on his lap, your hands clutching his shoulders, your body rocking against his as he thrust up into you over and over. He could still hear your voice, the way you'd gasped his name when you came. It had been enough to leave him breathless, slumped in his chair with his hand still wrapped around himself.

The memory of your voice, the way you'd whimpered his name through the phone, sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through him even now.

"Mike, you're not even looking!" Abby's voice snapped him back to the present. She was holding up another drawing, her brow furrowed in mock frustration.

He adjusted his position on the bed, praying Abby wouldn't notice the tension in his body, forcing a smile. "Sorry, kiddo. Let me see."

The hours dragged on, but for Mike, every second felt like an eternity. He loved how natural you were with her, how effortlessly you fit into their little world. But the selfish part of him, the one that had spent countless sleepless nights imagining your body pressed against his, was losing the fragile grip it had on its patience.

Night had finally fallen and Abby, despite her earlier determination to stay awake and keep playing, had succumbed to exhaustion. She lay nestled inside the fort she had spent the better part of the evening constructing, pillows stacked precariously, blankets draped over chairs and furniture, her breathing slow and steady. Mike had taken care to tuck another blanket securely around her, brushing her hair back gently before stepping away.

You stood near the doorway, arms crossed, watching the scene with a fond smile. There was something endlessly endearing about seeing Mike in dad mode, his gruff exterior softening as he ensured Abby was warm and comfortable.

"She's out cold," he murmured as he joined you at the door, his voice low to avoid waking her. His gaze lingered on her for a moment longer before he gently shut the door behind him.

When he turned back to you, there was a shift in his expression. Without a word, he reached out, wrapping his arms around your waist in a firm but measured embrace. His face nuzzled into the crook of your neck, his stubble brushing against your skin as his breath came hot and steady.

"Finally," he murmured, his voice husky. "My turn."

You chuckled softly, though your breath hitched at the weight of his tone. "What, you missed me that much?" You tried to keep your voice light, teasing, though your heart raced as he held you.

He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, his dark gaze smoldering. "You have no idea." His fingers pressed into your lower back, pulling you closer until your bodies were flush. "No more interruptions. You're mine now."

Mike's hand never left your waist as he guided you down the hall toward the bedroom. His grip was firm but not rushed, his thumb stroking small circles through the fabric of your shirt. Once inside, he kicked the door shut with a soft thud, the sound sending a thrill down your spine.

He turned to you, his eyes tracing over your face before sliding lower, drinking in the sight of you like a man starved. "I've been waiting all day for this," he said quietly, voice low and rough. "All week, really."

He leaned in and captured your lips with his own. The kiss was deep and consuming, tongue brushing yours, coaxing a soft moan from your throat.

He broke the kiss only to press his forehead against yours, his breathing uneven. "God, I missed you," he muttered, his hands sliding under your shirt to touch the bare skin of your back. "Every damn second you were gone, I was thinking about you."

Mike eased you onto the bed, his weight settling between your legs as he kissed you again. His hands worked your shirt over your head, tossing it aside before his lips moved lower, trailing down your neck, your chest, each kiss deliberate and hungry.

His fingers skimmed the waistband of your pants, pausing for a moment to look up at you. "Let me take care of you," he murmured, his voice thick with longing.

He leaned down, his lips pressing against your collarbone, your chest, the soft skin of your stomach. Each kiss was hot and deliberate, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. His stubble grazed your skin, a delicious contrast to the softness of his mouth.

When he reached your waistband, he paused, glancing up at you through his lashes. "Can I?" he asked, his voice rough but laced with tenderness.

You nodded, your breath hitching as his hands worked your pants and boxers down in one smooth motion. The cool air against your heated skin made you shiver, but that sensation was quickly replaced by the warmth of his hands as they smoothed over your thighs.

He took his time, his gaze never leaving you as he pressed open-mouthed kisses to your inner thighs, his stubble brushing against the sensitive skin.

"So perfect," he whispered, his voice barely audible, his breath hot against you. "I've missed this so much."

His hands spread your legs wider as he continued his exploration, his lips and tongue teasing you until you were trembling beneath him.

When he finally pulled back, his pupils blown with desire, he reached into the nightstand for the small bottle of lube you both kept there. The sound of the cap clicking open sent a shiver of anticipation through you.

He poured a generous amount onto his fingers before setting it aside. His eyes met yours as he coated his fingers, the intensity of his gaze making your breath catch in your throat.

Your body was trembling with anticipation as you felt his hand slide between your legs, his fingers gently parting your thighs. The first touch of his slick fingers against you made you gasp, your hips instinctively arching off the bed as he began to prepare you. His movements were slow and careful, his fingers working you open with a patience that made your heart swell with affection.

"You're so tight," he murmured, his voice dropping to a near-growl as he worked you open. "God, I've missed feeling like this."

He took his time, making sure you were comfortable, that you were ready, before he added a second finger, then a third, each one stretching you further, preparing you for what was to come.

You could feel every nerve in your body alight with pleasure, every touch sending sparks of electricity through you.

When he finally pulled his fingers out, you couldn't help the whimper that escaped your lips, your body aching for more.

He reached down to unbutton his own pants, quickly shedding the rest of his clothes until he was just as bare as you were.

He settled between your legs, his body pressing against yours. You could feel the hard length of him pressing against your thigh.

His words sent a flush of heat through you, your hips moving involuntarily as you chased the feeling of his touch. His free hand gripped your thigh, holding you steady as he added another finger, his movements deliberate.

"You're doing so good for me," he said, his voice softening for a moment. "So good."

The first stretch was intense, a mix of pressure and pleasure as Mike slowly pushed inside. He let out a low, guttural sound as he buried himself to the hilt, his hands gripping your hips tightly. "Fuck," he muttered, his head falling forward against your shoulder. "So tight. Feels even better than I remembered."

He paused for a moment, letting you adjust, his breathing ragged as he fought to hold himself still. "Tell me if it's too much," he said, his voice low but tender.

"It's good," you whispered, your hands sliding up to his shoulders. "Go on."

You clenched around him, drawing a sharp groan from his lips. His movements started slow, his hips rocking gently as he let you adjust. But as your hands found their way to his back, your nails digging in slightly, he couldn't hold back any longer.

Mike's pace quickened, each thrust deep and deliberate, his breath hot against your ear. "You feel so good," he rasped, his voice raw. "God, I've missed this. Missed you."

Your moans filled the room, mingling with the sound of his ragged breathing and the rhythmic slap of skin against skin. Every movement, every touch, felt electric, the built-up tension of the past week spilling over in waves of pleasure.

Mike leaned down, his lips brushing against your jaw as he murmured, "You’re taking me so well... so perfect."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, your hands clutching at his shoulders as he drove into you with a newfound urgency. His hands roamed your body, touching, gripping, as if he couldn't get enough.

By the time you both reached your peak, you were a mess of tangled limbs and breathless moans. Mike collapsed beside you, his hips stuttered, grip on you tightening as he buried himself to the hilt. His groan was deep and guttural, his body shuddering against yours as he spilled into you, pulling you close against his chest as you both tried to catch your breath.

His fingers traced lazy patterns on your back, his lips brushing against your temple. "Don't ever leave me for that long again," he said quietly, his voice still rough from exertion as he tightened his arms around you, his breath evening out as he held you close.

Note: If you liked this story please leave a comment, I love reading them <3. Up next i’ll post another Mike Munroe fic ;)

137 notes · View notes