#I need to really change my sleep/waking schedule but man I really am not a morning person | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

faebaex · 1 year ago

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Tangled in Wonderland - A Simulation

author note: ... so this got out of hand and ended up being over 6500 words x-x really curious to see how you guys like it and react to the twist. i'm so anxious if you guys will enjoy it that i can't even right my usual rambly A/N!!

characters: Idia Shroud x GN!Reader, Ortho Shroud (Platonic)

Thump. Thump. Thump. Slam.

You sighed.

The sound of quarrelling which, through Ramshackle’s thin walls, sounded like it could be happening right next door to you.

The sound of a quiet but stern lecture, a voice full of authority that would not stand being questioned.

You rolled over in bed and checked the time on your phone. 7:00 am. On a Saturday. You groaned and rolled onto your stomach and buried your face in your pillow – not the best quality but comfortable enough – as Grim snored, spread out at the foot of the bed. You were pretty sure he could sleep through a hurricane.

Just why had you agreed to allow the NRC Tribe to stay here, again? Perhaps it was masochism?

But that didn’t do Vil any justice. He had warned you that tenacity was Pomefiore’s thing.

The morning after Vil had grandly declared that he had moved in was… Something. The best way you could describe it was that it played out like a fever dream. You had hoped it was, actually. You kept pinching yourself, hoping you’d wake up any moment. Of course, you didn’t.

You had woken the next morning to Vil knocking on your door. He was rather insistent, as he didn’t leave even when you ignored his knockings in favour of burying yourself further into the warm comfort of your bed. Finally, you dragged yourself out of bed and ripped open the door, glaring bleary eyed at Vil, who stood looking annoyingly immaculate for so early in the morning.

“I’ve prepared us some breakfast. I see you need time to get ready, but please do hurry. I have a schedule to keep.” Vil informed you, not even waiting for your response as he turned on his heel and walked down the hall. You grumbled and slammed the door shut, reeling both from the early morning veiled insult and the fact that somehow Grim had slept through it all, still snoring away peacefully on your bed.

You readied yourself as quickly as you could but took an extra few moments to smooth out your appearance more than you usually would. You’d be sitting opposite Vil Schoenheit after all, and you could really do without his comments this early in the morning.

You walked down to the lounge to see that Vil had indeed set the table up for breakfast. Mismatched bowls filled with yoghurt, berries, and some sort of… Seeds? A jug of orange juice also sat on the table, just enough for one glass each, along with a heartier jug filled to the brim with water. You had to admit, you hadn’t had such a healthy, well put together breakfast since you got there. Most days you had to forgo your breakfast entirely in order to stop Grim terrorising the school population before first period began. If this was Vil’s charm offensive, you could get behind it.

“This was the best I could do with your dorm’s… Limited implements,” Vil sighed as he drizzled a modest serving of honey on his own bowl of yoghurt before pushing the honey container towards you, “I would have brought my blender but I wasn’t if Ramshackle had running electricity.” Vil commented dryly, “does Crowley not ensure you have the needed facilities to live adequately? That man is shameless.”

Now this was a conversation you could get behind.

“Crowley doesn’t ensure anything ever.” You grumbled as you drizzled some honey onto your own yoghurt bowl under the watchful eye of Vil. The amount you put must have been satisfactory because he didn’t say anything, only began to mix his spoon in his own bowl.

“The prize money from the SDC would help change that. You could get yourself better kitchenware, maybe some more soft furnishings…” Vil began, and you rolled your eyes as you munched on some berries. Nice segway.

“Not interested.” You responded bluntly, although Vil didn’t seem too surprised by that. He picked up the orange juice jug, pouring you a glass first before filling his own, as manners would dictate. “Why are you so against the NRC Tribe staying here? You only stand to gain from doing so. Whilst there may be a bit of disruption, I’ve assured you that I would keep disruption to your routine to a minimum. I must say… I do find your stalwart refusal a little odd.” Vil stared hard at you now, and you tried not to visibly squirm from the intensity that he was studying you.

It seemed that all your efforts to not bring attention to yourself were doing the exact opposite in this situation. Vil found your behaviour odd, and Ace and Deuce had also found your behaviour odd when you didn’t attend the Pomefiore ballroom when you were requested to do so. It was rather annoying, actually, how all your hard work to be as unnoticeable as possible was turning out to be fruitless.

But if there was one thing you could rely on for a believable defence, it was the inherent selfishness of the Night Raven College students (and arguably, staff).

“Why should I go out of my way to help you? Regardless of what you offer, it sounds like a pain. I have to accommodate seven extra students? On top of all the trouble I get from Grim anyway? Sounds like a drag. Plus I enjoy having my own space.” You quipped back, your expression indifferent.

“Hmph. It seems like you fit in here more than you think.” Vil shot back sassily, an elegant eyebrow raised at your open self-centeredness.

All throughout breakfast you and Vil had an unproductive back and forth where he tried to gain some ground on getting the training camp to go ahead in Ramshackle. It was exhausting, but you managed to hold out long enough that breakfast was over and there was no reason to stay at the table any longer, for either of you. You were just leaving the lounge when there was a energetic knock on Ramshackle’s main doors. You sighed, wondering why someone else was now knocking on your door, but for all you knew it could be Ace and Deuce, wanting to walk with you to class. That reminded you that you needed to get Grim up too. Reluctantly, you walked towards the entrance, pulling one of the creaky doors open.

“Bonjo—”

You slammed the door shut.

“That was rude. Rook is here to walk with me to class. He also is delivering my blender.” Vil scolded, having followed you partially to the entrance, obviously predicting that it was Rook. You groaned loudly regardless of this, bumping your forehead lightly against the entrance door’s old wood. You had to deal with Rook Hunt now too? This was getting out of hand.

Grudgingly, you pulled open the door again, not bothering to mask your expression of displeasure as you stared at Rook, who stood with his usual enigmatic smile on your doorstep, with a blender tucked carefully under his arm.

“Ahh Trickster! How delightful your disgruntled expression looks first thing in the morning! Magnifique! Like a raging storm cloud threatening the blue skies! And Roi de Poison, as radiant as ever! Like the brightest of suns in comparison! Oh, how I wish I could burn this image into my mind forevermore!” Rook enthusiastically sang, and it was as if you could feel your mood plummeting in real time.

“Oh give it a rest…” You muttered under your breath, having to duck out of the way as Vil breezed past you and grabbed the blender off of Rook. “Yes, that is quite enough of that, Rook. There is no cloud on this earth that could threaten my shine.” Vil commented, disappearing back into Ramshackle to no doubt deposit his blender in the kitchen. “Of course not, beautiful Vil!” Rook eagerly agreed.

Now why were you catching back handed insults from both Pomefiore housewardens?!

You grumbled under your breath about this, but Rook didn’t seem to mind or care. He continued to smile at you, watching you with those ever-observing eyes.

“You seem agitated, Trickster! But might I say, you do look beautiful this morning. A fine colour to your cheeks and a wicked glint in your eye! I see that your shared breakfast with Vil has done wonders for your complexion and spirit already.” Rook continued, managing to look harmless and sly at the same time. Quite the feat.

How exactly did he know that you had breakfast with Vil?! Had he been watching you? You cursed internally, swearing to yourself that you’d buy some thick curtains for Ramshackle out of your next allowance. But knowing Rook, that wouldn’t be enough.

Instead, you glare at Rook and point a finger at him, which he watches with glee, as if he is enjoying the situation. “Stop talking.” You say firmly, and he holds his hands up genially, not at all offended at your shortness. In your opinion, Rook Hunt was a whole valid reason on why you didn’t want the NRC Tribe to stay at Ramshackle.

“Rook, it’s time for us to go. I don’t want to be late.” Vil declared as he strode out of Ramshackle, and you had to agree with Rook in that the run down exterior of Ramshackle didn’t take away from Vil’s shine in the slightest. It was quite amazing, and also kind of irritating. “You should leave shortly too, being late would be unbecoming of a dorm Prefect.” Vil sniped over his shoulder at you as he began to leave with Rook. Rook gave you a hearty parting wave, “farewell, Trickster! I do hope to be sharing a dorm with you soon!”

Not at all ominous, thank you Rook.

“And don’t forget about Grim.” Vil called, not even bothering to turn towards you as he continued on in the direction of Night Raven’s main school building.

Oh, damn it. Grim! You rushed back upstairs, on a mission to get Grim out of bed and out of Ramshackle before you were late and Crewel chewed you both out again.

After that, Vil was a semi-permanent fixture at Ramshackle. He would return in the evenings, no doubt after running the NRC Tribe ragged during practice, and then he would put you through your paces. He’d critique most of the things you did, and it wasn’t like his words of advice were unhelpful, it just didn’t help that they were delivered with the trademark Schoenheit sass. More often than not you were left reeling because he delivered his flyby judgments with such poise and poison, you were suddenly gaining a new appreciation for poor Epel.

Eventually you relented and agreed to allow the NRC Tribe to stay at Ramshackle until the SDC, but under very strict conditions. You would be receiving Vil and Rook’s share of the prize money if they won. You were not to be disturbed under any circumstances by the members of the NRC Tribe, and they were strictly forbidden from entering your bedroom. Groceries would be provided for the duration of the training camp. You also made it clear that you would not be responsible for any shenanigans that Grim pulled off during their stay, so not to even bother pestering you about it. And lastly, you would not be attending the SDC.

It was a difficult decision for you to make, but you realised that with Vil hounding you about allowing the NRC Tribe to stay, you were perhaps interacting with Vil way more than you potentially would during book five’s story path. A foul thought crossed your mind, Vil overblotting because negotiating with you had eaten into his preparation time for the SDC. At least with these conditions, you effectively minimised your role in book five to pretty much nothing, and if book five’s story decided to run its course like normal, then it was nothing to do with you.

Vil had stared at you with a knowing look when you first came to him telling him that you would agree for the training camp to go ahead, but his face slowly fell into a judging frown once you got to the end of your conditions.

“You don’t want to see your friends perform at the SDC? You do realise this is one of the biggest events of the school calendar? There might not ever be another opportunity for you to witness such a spectacle, let alone one that your friends are performing in. Not to mention… They’ve been working so hard.” Vil questions you, his tone almost scolding, and his eyes wrought with curiosity as to why you’d be so callous to the two who you’d known the longest since arriving here.

You kept your expression indifferent, giving an excuse that loud spectacles weren’t your thing. You did feel bad that you would miss Ace and Deuce’s big moment, but there was no way you could allow yourself to get dragged into a potential overblot situation again.

Of course, all of that felt meaningless now, considering that they weren’t even complying with the conditions that you had set out.

You could vaguely hear Ace complaining to Deuce about having to be up so early despite Vil technically giving them the morning off, whatever that meant. You hoped that the voices would eventually die down and you could get a couple hours more sleep, but the banging, thumping and voices went on and on. You even attempted to pass sometime by playing around on some mobile games that you had downloaded, a guilty pleasure that was a temptation too hard to resist when Crowley gave you the phone. But the noise never abated, and with a disgruntled sigh you got out of bed and decided to get ready for the day.

It felt weird being on campus so early in the morning on the weekend. It was mostly empty, which you assumed had to do with most students forgoing breakfast to sleep in, although there were a few early risers milling around campus. Some were heading towards the gates, likely heading out to town, whilst others made their way to the many other facilities that Night Raven had to offer. You yourself had decided to visit the mystery shop on a whim, thinking you could pick up a snack or two for during your breaks at the library.

You were walking up the path towards the shop when some… Large boxes came floating out the door… You stopped in your tracks, blinking several times. Were you that tired that you were seeing things now?

“Sorry Prefect, I don’t want to accidentally bump you!” Said a chipper voice coming from behind the boxes, startling you and making you hop out of the way. Behind the boxes was one Ortho Shroud, and suddenly the floating made sense. Not so much the boxes, though.

“Ah, my brother got a little caught up yesterday and forgot to do his usual food order, so I came to the mystery shop to pick up a few supplies to tide us over!” Ortho told you as he saw you eyeing up the boxes in his arms in confusion. He floated towards you where you stood off the path, and gently placed the boxes down, and they were nearly as tall as you were! Just a few supplies?!

“What are you playing?” Ortho asked enthusiastically, and you belatedly realised that you had one of the mobile games you had downloaded open on your phone, and muscle memory made you want to close it down immediately, but Ortho’s big, excited eyes made you feel too guilty to do so.

“Oh, uh… It’s just a game I downloaded, I don’t know much about it…” You fielded awkwardly, hoping to brush the topic away but Ortho only floated closer to get a better look at the screen.

“My brother plays that one too!!” Ortho gushes with glee, the sudden burst of elation catching you a little off guard. Really? This didn’t seem like Idia’s type of game… You swear you vaguely remember him saying he wasn’t that into dating sims… Although, you did suppose this one wasn’t a conventional dating simulator at the very least.

“But what happened to your screen?” Ortho asked, ripping you out of your thoughts, his head tilting to the side curiously. Now that did make you lock your phone to attempt to hide your shamefully cracked phone screen. Kalim, that’s what happened, you thought dryly. “Oh it’s nothing,�� you said quickly, “I just had a small accident with it. It still works just fine!”

“Let’s get my brother to fix it!”

Oh no.

Ortho was beaming at you, eyes sparkling at the idea. You could feel your heart sinking.

“Oh no, no. I wouldn’t want to bother him! It’s totally fine, I promise!” You said hurriedly, hoping to derail the idea and make a quick escape, but it seemed like the idea had already firmly taken root in Ortho’s brain.

“It wouldn’t be a bother! My brother is really good with machines, he’ll get it fixed in no time! Plus, you two can talk about that game together! I’m sure he’d love to know there was someone else on campus who likes the same game as him!” Ortho encouraged.

Ah. So that was what this was about.

Book six had Ortho really encouraging Idia to share his gaming interests with the other students at Night Raven. Considering that the Ignihyde chapter was the next in line after book five, it did make sense that Ortho was taking this coincidence and running with it, considering you had just made it a thousand times easier for him to do so by just happening to like the same game as his beloved brother.

… But how were you supposed to say no to those eyes?! How were humanoids allowed to have such heart wrenching eyes?! It wasn’t fair.

You chewed on your bottom lip in indecision. It would be useful to get your phone screen fixed, even to stop Vil’s sassy barbs that he kept firing at you whenever he caught sight of it (something something “your belongings are a reflection of you” something something, blah blah). And this was Idia you were talking about here. He would probably freak out as soon as Ortho brought you to his room, fix the phone as quickly as possible and kick you out. Win, win?

“Okay, sure.” You relented, watching as Ortho lit up even more at your positive response. You swear you saw his hair get brighter. “But I can’t stay for long, I have other things planned for today.” You stated firmly, giving yourself an escape plan if needed. Ortho still seemed delighted regardless, moving once again to pick up those ridiculously large boxes he had been carrying. You followed suit, picking up the box from the top of the pile, much to Ortho’s surprise.

“It’s okay, I can carry them!” Ortho assured, but you shook your head, adjusting your grip on the box. It was a little heavy, but nothing you couldn’t handle. “Nah, I can’t let you carry them all by yourself. Besides, this is the least I can do if you’re going to fix my phone for me.” You remarked casually, beginning to walk with Ortho towards the Hall of Mirrors.

“You’re very kind, Prefect.” Ortho hummed, seeming quite taken with your courteous gesture.

The walk to the Hall of Mirrors from the mystery shop wasn’t long, and as you stepped through the Ignihyde mirror, you realised that you’ve never actually really seen the inside of the Ignihyde dorm. Sure, the game lets you buy Ignihyde backgrounds such as the entrance and the lounge, and you can get Idia’s dorm room as a background on his birthday, but other than that, the Ignihyde dorm has largely been a mystery compared to the other dorms. You had no idea what to expect.

It was… Very white. And shiny. Kinda made you wish you had brought a pair of sunglasses. The hallways were deserted, and you felt like you stood out like a sore thumb. You suddenly started to feel uneasy about the whole thing.

You followed closely behind Ortho as he led you to Idia’s dorm room, not trusting yourself not to get lost. He seemed to know exactly where he was going, even with the boxes he was carrying partially obscuring his view.

“Ortho, are you sure this is okay?” You asked, unable to hide the unease in your voice. Ortho didn’t stop, continuing to float along the hallways and making turns where necessary. “Don’t worry, Prefect! It’ll be fun! We’re almost there!” He insisted, and you very much felt that you and Idia were about to be in for a very unfun time. Ortho suddenly turned and opened a door that you would have missed if it wasn’t for him, as it blended into the wall so well.

“Idia, I’m back!” Ortho announced, floating in nonchalantly. You followed awkwardly, managing to bump the door closed behind you and place the box you were carrying on top of the other ones that Ortho had left by the wardrobe.

You took a moment to glance around the room. It wasn’t… As messy as you thought it would be. Wow, the background you can buy in the game really doesn’t do it any justice. That or Ortho cleaned up.

“Ah Ortho! Come check this out! I finally beat the final boss in that boss rush and got some cool new— Gah!!”

Idia had swivelled in his chair to look at Ortho but saw you instead and almost tumbled straight out of it with the way he flinched backwards, face morphing into terror. You gave him a small smile and waved awkwardly, but that only seemed to make it worse.

“I invited someone over!” Ortho stated cheerfully as Idia ducked behind the high back of his chair to avoid being seen. Rather fruitlessly too, considering you could still see his characteristic flaming hair.

“I-I can see that, Ortho! W-w-why did you invite an extrovert into my room?!” Idia complained, trying to keep his voice low but not really succeeding. The interaction was so odd to watch that you wondered if you should leave but settled for looking away instead. Ortho didn’t seem bothered at all, smiling at Idia like nothing was wrong.

“This is the Prefect from Ramshackle! I ran into them at the mystery shop, and they helped me carry our shopping back! Wasn’t that kind of them?” Ortho rambled on, floating over to his brother. Idia seemed to pluck up the courage to peek over his chair to get a better look at you, prompted by Ortho’s words, but when you looked back towards him, he shot back down in his chair, the ends of his wispy hair turning bright pink.

Wait, was he blushing?

“B-but Ortho…” Idia stammered out, but it seemed that Ortho had no mercy for him today.

“The Prefect’s phone screen is broken, and I told them that you could help fix it!” Ortho piped up over Idia’s stammering, his smile taking no prisoners, “you can help them, right Idia? Something so simple won’t even take you ten minutes.” Ortho encouraged, beaming smile still on his face.

Talking tech seemed to kick Idia out of his fluster somewhat, and you could hear Idia’s back thump against his chair as he opened one of his desk drawers and started rifling through it. “Tch, typical normies with no protection on their device, then crying when it gets bodied. So noob coded…” Idia muttered under his breath like he’d forgotten you were right there as he finally found what he was looking for, pulling the kit he was looking for out of his drawer and placing it on his desk.

Ouch.

He pushed his keyboard back, assumedly making space to him to work. “Gimme. The quicker I fix it, the quicker they leave, right?”

“Prefect isn’t a normie! They play the same game as you!” Ortho retorted and you cringed, as you sincerely hoped that wouldn’t get brought up into conversation before you could leave. But apparently, Ortho had taken it upon himself to defend your honour from his brother. Lucky you.

“Show him, Prefect!” Ortho compelled you, and you would almost find it funny how he was basically strong-arming Idia to have an interaction if it didn’t involve you. You sighed internally, powerless to Ortho’s big eyes, and walked slowly towards Idia’s desk, loading the game up on your phone. You held it up, arm outstretched so you didn’t get too close and give the guy a heart attack.

“It’s this one. I don’t play much, but this is the game I play the most. I at least make sure to login every day to get the bonuses and stuff…” You mumbled awkwardly, not actually understanding why you felt so awkward either. It wasn’t like it was a big deal. But suddenly your phone was snatched from your hand, and you were startled to see that Idia had grabbed it.

“You play this too?! I’m so into this at the moment. How far are you in the story? What cards do you have? Who is your favourite? Ugh, this screen totally kills the vibe. Hang on, let me just…”

You blinked in surprise as Idia rapidly fired off multiple questions about the game at you before putting your phone on his desk and hunching over as he got to work. It was like he was a completely different person. You knew it was the case that he could become very lively when he got to talk about his hobbies and interests, but seeing it happen in person was… Truly something. You looked between him and Ortho, with Ortho looking absolutely delighted about the interaction, and gesturing for you to take a seat on Idia’s bed whilst he worked.

“Oh, uh… I’m not very far in the story, I cleared the prologue but that’s about it. I don’t get the chance to play often… I don’t get many chances to roll the gatcha either, I never have any currency…” You answered. You didn’t really know any of the characters well enough to say what cards you had or who your favourite was, so you kept quiet on that.

“Sounds like you’re still in noobville. I’ll teach you how to play, but first I have to… Whee hee hee…” Idia volunteered, his voice pittering out as he got more entranced on working with your phone. The room lulled into silence, and you began conversing with Ortho instead, random giggles and mumbles from Idia in the background as you and Ortho chatted. Midway through one of your conversations with Ortho you noticed that Idia had been working on your phone for way longer than ten minutes. Now, you had no idea how long it took to replace a phone screen, you were no engineer. You also factored in that Ortho could have just been bigging up his brother’s ego when he said it would only take him ten minutes, but did it really take that long to fix? It felt like you had been in here way over an hour…

Ortho was projecting some clips of his favourite video games when Idia finally swivelled around, brandishing your phone with a manic grin.

“The freshly refurbished Prefect Custom Gamer Deluxe! I replaced the screen and reinforced it so it won’t break again but still has high grade touch screen sensitivity. I upgraded the battery to a larger capacity model so that you can game for longer, and of course a 2TB memory card. The original memory was awful, where did you get it? Sam’s bargain basket? Kek.” Idia gushed about your newly juiced mobile, fully in his element, “I didn’t know what your preferred colours are, so I didn’t add any custom lights. Blue’s good, though.” He commented, and that is when he finally caught you blinking at him, staring rather blankly.

“… Did you get any of that? Sigh, noobs OTL…”

You didn’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth, so you quickly snapped yourself out of vacant stare and quickly spoke, “I think so… It means I won’t have to delete anything to update my games anymore, right?”

That seemed to be enough, because he was smiling that startingly sharp toothed grin again. “Exactly.”

The room fell into silence again, with Idia seeming to realise that he’d burst out into a rave about his interests. He held out your phone towards you awkwardly for you to take, and you stepped forward quickly to take it, but Ortho was faster.

“Show the Prefect your cards on the game you both play!” Ortho insisted cheerfully but forcefully, clearly not willing to let this interaction between you and Idia ends just yet. You don’t know if it was because it was a game, or because he had been suitably warmed up from the tech talk, or Ortho’s wide, eager eyes. Maybe even a combination of all three, but either way, Idia agreed.

“So… Uh… Did you hear all the aggro online about what’s happened?” Idia muttered as he waited for his game to boot up. It booted up a lot faster than yours usually did. Is that what he did to your phone? If so, you weren’t going to complain.

“Can’t say I have…” You answered honestly, and Idia scoffed lightly under his breath. “Oh right. I forgot you’re a casual.”

Why did it sting when he said it like that?!

Idia spent some time giving you some tips on free ways to get in game currency so you could roll on the gatcha more, and even recommended some social media accounts you could follow to get information on future events so that you could plan your resources and gatcha rolling accordingly. It was… Pretty helpful, actually. It was oddly nice to just chat innocently about a hobby for once, instead of constantly having to have your guard up in case someone tried to screw you over.

Idia made you boot up the game on your own phone (which you were pleasantly surprised to notice loaded up just as quickly as his own) and took a look through your card collection. He wasn’t impressed (“do you even statgrind?”) but gave you some advice regardless on who your best cards were and the more effective way to power them up, so you didn’t get locked out of the story when you progressed.

“Now show them your cards, Idia!” Ortho suggested yet again. You hadn’t missed his thrilled expression as you and Idia had been chatting, realising that he was likely delighted that Idia was talking to someone in person for once. But he was being awfully pushy about Idia showing you his card collection, even when the conversation didn’t need to be facilitated by him…

The tips of Idia’s hair went bright pink yet again, and you couldn’t resist raising a brow. What was he so embarrassed about? They were just cards, right? Idia tucked his chin in, turning his screen away suddenly. “I-I-I don’t know, my collection is pretty a-average…”

“No way! You have so many cards, show them!” Ortho tugged on Idia’s arm, with Idia trying to hide his phone in his lap, “or I’ll just project your cards for the Prefect to see!”

Idia sat up straight, looking very panicked at Ortho’s oddly specific threat. “O-okay, okay! Let me just…” He tapped away at his phone, and you had no idea what he was doing, but eventually he turned the screen back to you, showing you his card collection in all its glory.

Wow. He had tons of SSR cards. Even some UR cards… By the look of it, he seemed to only go for the ultra-rare cards of the same characters, so they must be his favourites. You looked at his card collection, nodding appreciatively and making a comment here and there, but otherwise you didn’t really have much to say. Idia’s hair was still tinged pink, and even his cheeks had an awkward half blush for reasons that escaped you.

Out the corner of your eye you saw Ortho staring at you rather insistently, as if he was urging you to keep the conversation going. Just why were you allowing yourself to be exhorted by this kid? Clearly, Ortho Shroud’s powers of compulsion know no bounds.

“Who is your favourite character?” You blurted out, hoping that would satisfy. To your surprise, Idia’s hair burned brighter, the pink flaring up at your question.

“O-oh, um… I-i… I can’t show you, because of… You know, all that aggro online…” Idia mumbled under his breath, looking down at his lap. What was up with him?

Either way, now your curiosity had been piqued.

“Tell me about the drama.” You asked, although you supposed it came out sounding more like a demand. Idia looked up at you suddenly, staring at you for a long moment, “… a-are you sure? It’s pretty long…” He mumbled, and you nodded anyway. Perhaps this would finally satisfy Ortho and then you could make your exit.

Idia’s demeanour entirely changed again, his elbows landing on his knees and he leaned towards you, his hands caging his phone. “This has been big news in the community. Like, God tier discourse. Everyone has come together to try to figure out what is going on, scrubs and tryhards alike. People have been mining the data files, I’ve tried hacking the serv—”

“Wait, wait, wait!” You stopped him, waving your hands to get him to slow down, “tell me what happened before you talk fandom dramatics.” Idia rolls his eyes but acquests.

“So a couple of months ago, something happened to the game. I’m not talking a limited time event or anything like that. I’m talking one day, every logged in for the next daily login period, and a character was missing.” Idia informed you, and you raised your eyebrows at this.

“Like, gone?” You questioned, and Idia nodded, frantically enough that his wispy hair bounced a little. You scratched your cheek, finding yourself slightly intrigued in this despite just doing it to get Ortho off your back. “I don’t think I follow what you mean…” You admitted, almost a little sheepishly, “how can a character just be gone? Wouldn’t you still have their cards?”

Idia, to his credit, didn’t seem to be bothered by you not following, only nodding along eagerly with your train of thought. “Right? But that is where it gets even weirder…” Idia begins to tap at his phone again, changing the filters on his card collection before turning the screen back towards you again, “because the cards are still there, but the character is missing.”

The sight was eerie, almost ominous. You deduced this character must be one of Idia’s favourites, considering how many cards he had, all maxed out. It made sense why he was so invested. But the cards themselves, they were…

Empty.

The cards were still there, in his collection. The background of the cards was still visible, even the other characters that appeared in the art were still there. But the character the card belonged to? Gone. Just an odd, inky smudge left in their place.

“That’s…” You couldn’t finish your thought, finding yourself at a loss for words at the bizarre, oddly chilling sight.

“Right?!” Idia hissed, really getting into the conversation now.

“Surely it must be some sort of event, right? Something to do with the story?” You tried to reason, and Idia shook his head wildly.

“That’s what we all thought, at first! Maybe they were springing some big event on us that none of the info trading accounts had managed to dig up. Sure it was a bit early for a Halloween event, GG developers, but it wasn’t like that hasn’t happened before.” You nodded along to Idia’s logic, this was exactly what you had assumed. The creepy feel of the cards definitely gave a Halloween vibe.

“But the official game pages never posted anything about it. And they weren’t responding to comments or messages about it either. So, we started to wonder if it was an update gone wrong, or a bug, and the devs were going to patch it. But still, we heard nothing from any official channels.”

You were staring at Idia, transfixed by this odd phenomenon. You’d never had anything of the sort happen in any of the games you had ever played, that’s for sure.

Idia’s cheeks flared a little pinker as he continued, “I-i have every one of that character’s cards, so I was able to check that it wasn’t just one card that had the issue, it was all of them. Other players reported the same issues, so that’s how we knew it was a game wide issue. The devs finally issued a statement, some vague BS about how they would be troubleshooting some issues with the game but not exactly what they were trying to fix. I personally think the devs have no clue what’s going on. Which is stupid, who doesn’t know what’s happening with their own software? Is it amateur hour over in that studio…” Idia finished, starting to mutter under his breath.

You mulled all this information over. Wow, clearly fandom drama in Twisted Wonderland was way more over the top than in your world.

“That’s really… Wow.” You hummed, which you thought summed up the situation quite well. You were pondering over it, eyes back on your own phone as you opened your card collection back up. You guessed you hadn’t noticed because you hadn’t rolled any of that specific character’s cards in the gatcha. You were kind of grateful, actually. It probably would have given you a fright.

“Uh…” You heard Idia hum, and you looked up at him, seeing him watching you with an apprehensive expression, “I have something to show you, if you want to… See… But you might find it weird…” He said slowly, his posture more hunched than before.

“Oh, okay?” You nodded, waiting for him to continue. You wondered if you were making him uncomfortable and had overstayed your welcome, considering Idia was starting to become more withdrawn again. His social battery was probably starting to go flat. You’d leave after this, you decided. Maybe quicker, if he was going to show you something really weird.

“The character is gone from the game’s cards, but they still appear in promotional materials that were posted online. Do you… Want to see?” Idia asked hesitantly, and whilst you found the way he asked the question a little odd, you had no reason to decline.

“Sure, why not? I feel like I’m invested now.” You smiled at him, but he didn’t smile back, only turned his gaze to Ortho. “Ortho, can you project the promotional art?”

“Easy! Searching promotional art… Loading… And, done!”

… … …

You felt your blood run cold instantly and you couldn’t stop the look of petrified horror that froze upon your face.

Projected onto the muted walls of Idia’s bedroom, in crystal clear clarity, was the promotional art of the character that Idia had been telling you about, just as he had asked Ortho to do. There was no inky smudge replacing their appearance, and they were posed rather dramatically, the norm for promo art. But something about it had your heart stopping in your chest and your hands trembling in your lap…

The promotional art…

The promotional art looked exactly like you.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #idia shroud #idia shroud x reader #ortho shroud #twst idia #twst vil #vil schoenheit

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thatfreshi · 1 year ago

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OH THANK GOD anyways I think it'd be funny if astarion just found out his also elf lover was younger than he thought lol. Like vampy brain think "oh elf? Must be like 100 something at least" but nah they about as old as he was before the big bite lol

Recommended Song: Beneath the Mask - Adriana Figueroa, FT. Insanetherain

You and Astarion love waking up together. Despite the fact that he doesn't have to sleep all that much, he likes to, as long as it's with you. Even so, if he can't sleep, he'll lie next to you, his eyes wandering over your peaceful form. Most mornings, he wakes up before you. Or most nights. Your sleep schedule has gotten quite chaotic, living with a vampire and all. Then evening in particular, you wake up to his loving stare, eyes that tell all. You remember when they said nothing, when you could only hope to understand him.

"Good evening my sweet."

He goes to kiss your neck, clearly a little peckish. You feel one of his fangs graze your skin.

"I just woke up my love, give me a minute. So desperate, gods..."

You shove your face back into the pillow, exhaustion unwavering.

"I"m always desperate when it comes to you my dear."

He's right beside you, his sweet voice resonating in your veins, dripping into your blood like honey.

"At least you admit it."

He nudges you, urging you to get up from your slumber.

"Come now, you don't need any more beauty rest. You're perfect."

You move to look at him again, smiling like a little kid, wondering what you did to find this man. Well, technically you got kidnapped by mind flayers, but that's besides the point.

"I guess I should get up. Won't be young forever."

"Oh, you flatter yourself. You're not that young."

As you stretch in the moonlight through the window, you turn to give him an odd stare, raising an eyebrow.

"Aster, what do you mean?"

A laugh lies on the end of your sentence.

"Why, you're decades old at this point. I know us elves are supposed to live for a long time, but you're not some spry little thing."

You just continue to stare at him, confused. Is he kidding?

"Astarion, just how old do you think I am?"

"A hundred or so, maybe more, maybe less."

He then realizes it has never once come up in conversation. You don't really talk about ages all that much, as that often leads to birthdays, and you don't really celebrate birthdays either, considering Astarion doesn't remember when his is.

"Wait, have I really never asked how old you are?"

"Nope. I guess it doesn't really matter."

"Well, please share. I have to add it to my 'Encyclopedia of Tav'"

You get a little nervous, wondering if this will change anything. Clearly you're both mature people, but you hadn't thought of just how far apart you were.

"I'm only thirty."

He sits up.

"Are you- you're being serious? You're thirty?"

"No, I'm clearly joking about my age to get a rise out of you Astarion."

You roll your eyes at him. He looks off for a moment, clearly pondering something.

"You... you have so much time."

"Yeah, I guess so."

"Well, in that case, we have plenty of nights to spare."

He wraps his hands around your waist, pulling you on top of him. You smile, intertwining your fingers with his, holding hands against the blanket. You lean over by his ear.

"Might as well make the most of them."

#baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #astarion #astarion x reader #fluff

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irndad · 11 months ago

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* Dandelion - finally hearing the other person laugh after a period of hardship

Why am I always in the mood for hurt/comfort??? Does this say something about me??

hello my sweet apple pie !!!! this is far more comfort than hurt and i hope that's okay :))))))) it's all fluff LOL flower prompts

“You look nice,” he hears himself say. She does. Very nice, in fact. The sight of her is very tempting, actually, the polyester purple blanket that he’d had since college draped over her lap. She smiles at him lazily, eyes all warm and fond and there’s something just so sweet about it.

Strictly, Carmen does not have to work tonight.

He knows this. When he’d met her, Carmen knew that he wouldn’t really be able to resist the siren song of her company for very long. He can still remember the moment they met, dim lighting at house music at a friend’s party. How odd is it, that he even ended up at something like that? She was all warm disposition and lovely eyes, joy written all over her like she couldn’t be bothered to hide it. He doesn’t even remember what he said that was funny, but he does remember how she tipped her head back, joy overflowing till she couldn’t hold it back, and he saw her lovely neck. The pride of making her laugh like that. He wants to feel that way all the time.

So, yeah. He couldn’t really avoid seeing her.

He has a headache. He knows he’s not good company. Somehow, she’s not the kind of thing he can deny himself even when faced with how much he does not deserve it.

He tries to makeup for being in a relationship while doing this restaurant thing, tries not to repeat past mistakes. He tries to be up earlier, do his prep work on time, tries not to get behind. He’s actually pretty good at it, and somehow- it’s a Saturday night, and he’s ahead of schedule. He could theoretically stay in with his girl tonight.

His girl. He’s not sure he’s allowed yet, still tentative about scaring her away.

Her makeup is a bit faded and her hair is in a clip. He tries not to think of the image of her rummaging around his drawers, nimble fingers quick and lovely, finding the clip he kept just for her in his bedside drawer, along with a few other things she might need.

“Thank you,” she replies, looking up at him with the sweetest smile he thinks he’s ever seen, “You look nice too.” She outstretches her arms, hoping for an embrace and- fuck it.

It’s a little awkward, the positioning but god, she smells like the lavender perfume he and Sugar picked out for her, and he can’t stop thinking about it. You like nice too, she had said. A little ridiculous. He’s pretty sure he’s got anchovy juice on his shirt and smells like literal ass and he hadn’t had time to change before he got home, so really, he’s quite sure he’s not the most pleasant sensory experience.

And yet, she rakes her hands through his unkempt hair, graces him with a lazy, pleasant smile.

“How are you doing, Carmy?”

Her tone is warm, like milk and honey. He could drown in it, he thinks, spend years trying to pin down all of the melodic qualities of the ways she chooses to keep him company.

He ponders the question.

She looks so stunning, warm and pliant in his arms and god, it loosens the knot in his chest a little. This week has been fucking awful, none of his recipes tasting in the real world how he pictures in his mind, nightmares ever-present in his sleep, only eased by the mornings where he wakes with her pressed against his chest. He’s so grateful for the sight her, drinking her in like a man starved.

He takes her hand, gazing at it with reverence before pressing his chapped lips onto her delicate fingers.

“I’m better,” he manages to rasp out, blue eyes trained on her lovely face, “I think I’m doing much better.”

#carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto fluff #carmy berzatto fluff #carmen berzatto fic #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy x reader #carmen berzatto x You #carmy berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto imagine #the bear #the bear x reader

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keysorsomething · 11 months ago

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Hii!! Love your works sm sm always so happy to see you upload 😊☺️💞💓 Would you please spare us some cozy domestic Nikto hc’s? I feel like the man needs that sorta stability in his life (even if he might deny it at first) 🙏

Of course !! I'm always happy to yap about my fav boy <3 (adult man who has committed many violations of the Geneva Convention)

Request page !!

He's a man of habit and schedule

It helped him remember what to do, especially when his memory issues get really bad

You moving in completely changes it

For the first few months, you'd always scare him

You weren't supposed to be here! That wasn't how it was for as long as he could remember

Eventually, he gets used to it, and starts making enough food for the both of you and is no longer flinching whenever you walk into a room

Very militant. He wakes up at 5 am and goes to bed at 9 pm

He gets very upset if his sleep schedule has to be adjusted in any way, like you get home slightly too late

He's a decent cook

He's in no way a "you should open a restaurant" cook, but he can make some meals pretty well

Sometimes cooking gets hard for him because he knows it's something that his mom made for him, but he doesn't remember if he's making it how she did

Gets upset you'll never get the full experience of dating/marrying, like meeting and becoming "one with" his family

Especially if your parents are in the picture

Has a set routine for cleaning the house

You are to sit and do nothing while he is

He considers it interfering and not helping

Gets upset if something is placed an atom away from its usual placement

He can tell

Has no skincare routine

Not even rubbing his face really hard with just water

He just takes the mask off and goes to bed

If you try to clean his face he'll lean away like a baby you're trying to feed something it doesn't like

One time he did this he leaned so far back he fell over

Rodion kept making suggestive comments at him because he was limping

He just bruised his tailbone but

Rodion knew Nikto wasn't lying, he just likes making fun of his teammates

Nikto always forgives your "transgressions" (picking up something off the floor before he was cleaning that room, keeping him up, waking up early and cooking breakfast instead of him) in exchange for a quiet moment in bed, usually including backrubs

#call of duty #cod mw2 #cod mw2019 #nikto cod #nikto x reader #nikto #rodion cod #keys.headcanons

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internetscenarios · 3 days ago

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I saw your TGC post and I am begging on my knees for some flirty / fluff Isaac or Tanner content 🧎🏻‍♀️

Also side note I’m a such a huge fan of your writing and just the way you lay out your blog ugh LOVE

- 🦕 (idk if this one is taken)

yess absolutely!!!! ill do isaac for now since i haven’t written tgc in a while also tysm!!! 😢🤍 the madoka magica gifs pull it together LOL

also dw 🦕 isn’t taken <3

ill do like flirty pre relationship and in relationship hcs,,,,

isaac

pre-relationship;

♡ definitely says back-handed compliments, then flips it

♡ i think he’s more flirty over text than in person

♡ but he definitely is confident in person, i think he is just more outgoing on text

♡ you know how he acts with all the guys? i think he tames it down a bit with you but is actually more caring if hes doing anything with you

♡ he is constantly doing things for you like it is UNREAL

♡ like let’s say you have a favourite drink, the second you wake up it’s literally at your desk

if you live in group fart house that is heart emoji

♡ you and him just having really long conversations for HOURS.

during-relationship;

♡ the way he asks you out is probably so cute but like. non-chalant

non chalant dreadhead

♡ it’s probably during one of your long conversations you both have, like he just blurts it out

♡ so kind to you!!! you’ll be hanging out with everyone and they are all chatting away and being silly while you two are just sat there quietly talking

♡ if the guys are making fun of you he is literally going out of his way to defend you

“y/n. you freaking smell.”

“NO THEY DONT!!!1!1!1!”

he breaks down into to tears on his knees because he couldn’t believe tanner would SAY SUCH A THING.

♡ hes going out of his way to visit you basically everyday, lets say you live in a house/apartment, he is on his way before your even awake!!

♡ if you live in group fart house i feel like he changes his whole sleep schedule for you..

like this man is working non-stop. checking his twt for updates daily heart emoji

♡ buttt if he knew you wanted to sleep a little earlier than him, hes going to sleep with you.

♡ if u hate being warm in the night… i feel bad for u.. this man will NOT let you go

♡ he either has one arm slung around you, or just fully clinging onto you for dear life

♡ you wake up in the morning feeling like a bajillion suns have just tapped you gently, while he wakes up like a disney princess with his arms stretched and a high pitch yawn

sorry that was a joke heart emoji

♡ PRINCESS TREATMENT. sidewalk rule. literally picking you up and moving you if you’re ever so slightly in his way.

♡ i feel like he spoils you sm as well…

overall.. we all need an isaac in our life..

I HOPE THIS IS OKAY!!! i may or may not do tanner another time but i wanna get some requests done first 🤍

also i might start writing for hasan… if anyone cares heheheheh

#tgc x reader #the group x reader #the groupchat x reader #the groupchat podcast #isaacwhy imagines #isaacwhy headcanons #isaacwhy x reader #isaacwhy x you

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spidey-bie · 1 year ago

Text

Murder In The Morning

A/N: I am suffering. It's 2 in the morning. If there are errors then no there isn't. Hobie x g/n black reader Summary: Your period came while sleeping over at Hobie's. Warnings: Blood (duh), Reader uses pads because tampons scare me

You should've known that it was coming.

The signs were all there. The restless sleep schedule, the sudden shift in emotions, strange cravings, and the unusual forgetfulness.

You’d thought you had more time but, alas.

Here you are, waking up in Hobie Brown's bed surrounded by a pool of blood.

"It's everywhere." Obviously you were exaggerating but you knew it was gonna be a pain to deal with later.

"Oh my God." It was really bad.

"You alright in there?" Hobie calls from the kitchen. He's probably let you sleep in while he started cooking breakfast.

"It's a code red," You call back. This was a gag you both had started from the first time your period started at Hobie’s house. At least this time it wasn't on new sheets.

"What's the damage?"

"It was a massacre." You have to check to see if you bled through to the mattress.

"Damn it." Unfortunately, you had.

"It's that bad?" Hobie

"Captain, they ambushed us. We never stood a chance."

He ducks into the room, eyes widening at the scene.

"Woah. All this came from you?"

You stare at him blankly. Sometimes you wonder if he says stupid stuff like this just to piss you off.

"Who else is there?"

"I just thought I was the only one with enemies to fight here."

And if any of them popped up right now you would leave him to fend for himself. Spider-man values be damned.

"Gimme one good reason why I shouldn't punch you right now."

"Because." He says waving a bottle of peroxide as he walks towards you.

"While you take a nice, long, hot shower I'll be cleaning up this whole mess for you." He was standing in front of you now. You started to feel bad for your small outburst.

“But before that.” He opens his arms wide. An open invitation for a hug you so desperately needed.

"Fine" You sigh and let yourself be enveloped in his arms.

"Thank you." You mumbled into his chest.

"Of course." He pressed a light kiss onto your forehead. "Now off you go."

************************************************************************

After hopping out the shower and being met with the cold air of the bathroom you felt the cramps start to creep in.

"You got any ibuprofen or those para- whatchamacallits?"

"Paracetamols. Med cabinet." You grabbed a blister pack out of the cabinet and popped a pill.

You had thrown away the pants and underwear that you were wearing earlier; they were beyond saving. Thankfully, there were clothes for you to change into, courtesy of Hobie’s closet, and underwear from a previous visit. However, there was one thing that you didn’t have.

"Bie." You shouted. "You got any pads?" It was unlikely but, you might've left some behind before. If not you could always just send Hobie to grab some.

“Umm. Check under the sink?"

You open the drawer and nearly cry from what you see. There sat a small box, clearly labeled in Hobie’s messy handwriting, Lovebug's Blood Kit. It held pads in a number of colors and sizes, as well as a variety of your favorite chocolates.

You put on a pad and headed to the bedroom, expecting Hobie to still be there. To your surprise, you were met with a bare mattress completely cleaned of the previous murder scene. "In here," he called from the kitchen. "Food's done."

"How’d yo-"

"You were in there for ages, bug. I was starting to think you passed out from blood loss."

You roll your eyes and smile. You were in love with an idiot. A caring and considerate idiot, but an idiot nonetheless.

"Thanks again for everything." You sit down and begin to eat.

“Don’t know what you mean,” he shrugged, glancing towards you with a smile.

You giggle. “Of course you don’t.”

The quiet hum of the washing machine continued in the background as you both sat and ate.

(A/n I got lazy by the end lol. Thank you to my lovely lovely editors @whaliiwatching and @shuinami. This was truly a mess before they looked at it.)

#hobie x black reader #hobie x black!reader #hobie x reader #hobie brown x black reader #hobie brown x black!reader #hobie brown x reader #period comfort #jay and the spiders #my bae [🎸]#cory writes

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karaonasi · 8 months ago

Text

BaxterMC Week hosted by @minthe-drawings

Entry #2 for Date Night

Lovely artwork by @rui-drawsbox

Midnight Romeo

Playlist: Crazy For You

///

My hands shook as I held my phone in my hands. Honestly I wasn’t used to texting Baxter. Usually, we utilized our own little system of ‘calling cards’ left on each others’ doorsteps to communicate. But this time that wouldn’t work. It needed to appear out of the blue.

[Hey]

No. I deleted it.

[Good evening to you, Mr. Ward]

No. Lame.

Shit.

I made a couple more attempts before I finally decided to just type something polite but to the point.

[I hope I am not bothering you this late.]

[Actually, I was just wondering if there was a ‘too late’ for visitors for our resident Night Owl.]

SEND

I bit my lip as I held my breath waiting for an answer.

In fact, I knew that Baxter was still up. I had watched from the front entry window as the downstairs light in his house went out. So he would have gone up to bed but would not be sleeping yet. Yes. I know it’s bordering on stalking my boyfriend. And I would be lying if I said it was the first time I had looked out our windows for our hot neighbor up the street--even before we had officially started dating. But this time there was a reason behind it.

My phone started playing ‘Made You Look’ which I had assigned to Baxter and I thumbed the screen lock open…

[My most charming neighbor, Kit. What a welcome surprise to hear from you this evening.]

I snorted. Yup this was my boyfriend alright. Sexy as hell but his texting skills…well, they were odd to say the least. I continued to read:

[I am accustomed to my schedule at university where 11pm is merely the start of the evening. So I would say that generally anytime before 2am would be acceptable. Was there a reason for your query? ~Sincerely, Your Suitor, Baxter Alexander Ward]

I had to take a moment to stop laughing my ass off before I could truly process the text. He really could be adorably ridiculous at times.

[Just clarifying appropriate…foot placement in our dance]

[Wouldn’t want to step on any toes]

I bit my lip and stared at my screen, trying to decide if and what I should send by way of a goodbye. I was saved the trouble by a new incoming message.

No. Not a message, a sound file! I pressed play to be blessed with the sound of a deep purring laughter. “Oh my god…” I breathed Cove’s customary epithet, falling back onto the couch, clutching the phone to my heart as if shot with an arrow. When my heart calmed enough, I propped myself up on my arms and made sure to save that amazing sound in my phone. Then I realized there was another message attached.

[My Dear Kit,]

[To clarify]

[For you, I am available for practice--or lessons at any time.]

[Sincerely, Baxter Ward]

Seriously…this guy was soooo bad for my heart…

Quickly I ran upstairs to change into the outfit I had created just for this evening. I had planned this for a while, intending something fun and unexpected. But after both relatively disastrous ‘drink’ dates, I figured a life lesson in simple things might be worthwhile for my type-A boyfriend.

Several minutes later, I was standing below the balcony on the back side of Baxter’s condo. I was relieved to see that the light was still on. I wouldn’t want to wake him up. I wasn’t sure what time in the early morning hours would begin ‘Morning Baxter’ and the last thing I wanted was for him to fall off of the balcony in his morning haze due to me.

I pulled out my phone, holding it over my head ‘Say Anything’ style and played the theme song from the 1968 Zeffirelli version of ‘Romeo and Juliet’. This was plan A. If Baxter didn’t come out, then plan B was throwing pebbles at his window. Luckily, I didn’t have to resort to such tactics. Out came the man in question, my heart clenching in my chest just from the sight of him stepping out onto the balcony.

Confusion was plain on his aristocratic features as he leaned over the railing, brown eyes blinking down in the darkness below. “Kit?”

“But soft, what light through yonder window breaks?

It is the east, and Baxter is the sun.”

Yes, it was cheesy. And I had a hard time keeping a straight face as I recited the lines--with minor alterations. I almost wished Lee was here. Almost. Because I wouldn't have shared this time alone with Baxter.

“Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,

Who is already sick and pale with grief

That thou, her master, art far more fair than she…

The brightness of his cheek would shame those stars…”

I continued to the end of the verses before taking flight, my feet finding footholds in the side of the house until I could grab the balusters and lift myself up to climb over the railing. I’ll be honest with you. This wasn’t my first attempt. While Baxter had been up in Northern California I maaaay have practiced this once or twice (or more than twenty times) until I could do it as well as I saw in the YouTube videos I had researched. I’m just lucky that the neighbors are used to the sight of me and Cove climbing in and out of our houses at any hour of night so that I didn’t get the police called on me.

Having made it safely onto the balcony, I sat perched on the corner of the railing, unable to suppress the fact that I was rather pleased with myself. I just hoped Baxter was as well.

Baxter simply stared at me, blinking for a moment and I thought that perhaps I had miscalculated and he had fallen asleep already and I woke him. But no. After a moment, he seemed to recover himself. “Kit, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company this evening?”

A shiver ran down my spine straight to my lower region with the slight but definite emphasis on the word ‘pleasure’. Not helping was the easy view of his very inviting queen sized bed through the open sliding glass door to his bedroom. Neither was his attire: black silk pajamas practically calling out to be touched. As opposed to his customary black and white button down shirts that were always buttoned to the very top, the collar of his pajamas, even fully buttoned, left an enticing view of the hollow at the base of his throat. Not to mention a glimpse of where the dip below his collar bones swelled slightly into the very top of a lithe but defined chest…all covered by pristine pale pink skin that made my mouth want to--

I swallowed hard, tearing my thoughts away from that dangerous line of thought. I hadn’t come here to lust on my boyfriend and, even if I had, I knew that these impulses of my newfound libido were more than I was prepared to handle. I blinked and refocused upon the handsome face of my much too tempting boyfriend. He leaned casually against the doorframe to his open bedroom and I had to mentally redirect my unruly body’s impulses again from the sensual grace with which he moved.

My lips tilted into a lop-sided smile as I stood, leaning against the corner of the balcony. “In the spirit of our discussion after the theatre outing, I thought we could have a nice impromptu date tonight,” I explained, though I was also looking for consent from him.

His gaze raked over my long body, taking in the medieval-style doublet I had managed to put together and tight leggings, making everywhere his gaze touched seem to tingle. Then he looked down at his own attire, holding out his arms to more effectively show off the pajamas. “Alas, I fear I am not attired for such an occasion.”

I shook my head with a chuckle at the fact that he was purposely speaking with more antiquated formality than even his ‘normal’ due to the theming. “No. You are perfect as you are, Bax.” I couldn’t help the slight huskiness of my tone from just how attractive I found him—and not just on the outside. I loved his playfulness and sense of fun (when he wasn’t berating himself for small offenses), as well as the sharp wit of an even sharper mind. I stepped closer to him, reaching over his head to the eve of the house and batted at the edge so that a string white twinkle lights that I had rigged earlier fell into view. “I thought we could simply have our date here—“ I pulled out my phone, turning on the playlist of songs suitable for ballroom dance and set it upon the railing. Then I turned to him with a formal bow and held my hand out to him, “if you would be so kind as to favor me with this dance.”

His beautiful eyes lit up in the twinkling white lights and he kicked off the doorframe to take my hand. “Certainly, my Dear Kit,”

My breath hitched as his other hand found my waist, pulling my body close to his as well as from the small endearment. And we moved in synchrony, making full use of the small space.

“See? Something doesn’t have to be ‘ideal’ to be perfect, Bax.” I commented as we danced. “I don’t know about you but I find this, tonight, pretty damned perfect,” I murmured slightly huskily into his ear. And it was: the lights, the warm salt breeze, the ¾ moon in the sky, and the boy whom I had dreamed of for so long in my arms.

His lovely elfin face turned up to meet my eyes. “Yes,” he purred though his tone was softer, less…sensual than usual. “You know, we haven’t danced since that night at the Cypress. Not truly.”

Actually, we had danced on the boat Lee had hired for the day--even Cove. But that had been club dancing to a techno beat—which was definitely not the same thing as Baxter’s favored ballroom variety. Still it had been fun for the short time it lasted. I bent so that my forehead touched his. “No, but we are right now, which is what matters,” I murmured, caught up in the dreamlike moment that simply being with Baxter conjured…so much like 5 years ago and yet so much more. Eventually he rubbed the upturned tip of his cute little nose to mine. I returned the gesture. Before I knew it, my lips slanted against his. The kiss was light and sweet. But my body’s reaction was anything but. My eyes widened as I felt the sudden spike of desire and pushed away from him. “I'm sorry!” I blurted out, my cheeks flaring hot.

“It’s okay, Kit,” he soothed. He paused, with a speculative expression upon his handsome features. “Sometimes you make me forget about your dating history.” He nodded to himself and then held his hand out to me. “And there’s nothing wrong with that,” he repeated the gentle reassuring words he spoke that day on the shopping street. I bit my lip, still not able to meet his eyes. But I took his hand and felt him pull me closer once again, though perhaps not fitting himself against me quite so tightly. “Honestly, it’s rather flattering. And cute.”

It still was hard to meet his eyes, even as close as they were. “I bet you say that to all your partners,” I teased.

He paused and I wasn’t sure if I had made another blunder. I was about to apologize again but I felt him take a small breath, then he let out a soft but definite, “…no…” My gaze now did meet his, and there was something almost…sad in those beautiful deep brown eyes of his. But it was gone quickly as if it had never been there, to be replaced with a flirty yet somehow open smile. “In any case, it’s the truth this time.” I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my features, my chest warming with happiness at Baxter’s unexpected confession. I bent my head to his again, our foreheads touching as our bodies continued to move in time with the music.

We spent a pleasant evening just dancing with each other on that balcony and learning more about each other…like how his favorite style is the waltz, and how I had come to favor modern dance styles recently. We attempted to salsa to contemporary music that wasn’t quite conducive to it until we both fell into laughter. By unspoken agreement, we declined a repeat of the club dancing. While fine in a group on a boat for a bit of fun, here alone together in the middle of the night…well, I was struggling enough without throwing kerosine onto the fire.

When it was time for me to go, I kissed him. Slow and a little deeper than my previous attempts this evening…tasting the edges of his parted lips, sharing his breath… I let go of him reluctantly and I wondered if I felt a similar reluctance in how his hands lingered on my clothing, or if that was just wishful thinking.

“Thank you for a wonderful evening, Darling Kit.”

“Sleep well, Bax,” I replied, knowing my face must be glowing from the joy bubbling up within me as I collected my phone. I swung one long leg over the railing, but Baxter stopped me.

“You know, you could use the front door,” he suggested with lifted brows.

“What kind of Romeo would I be if I didn’t use the balcony?” I chuckled playfully.

Baxter’s eyes closed and he shook his head with his own laughter. “You Californians really are wild.”

I winked at him before slipping the other leg over the railing. Impulsively, I turned around, quickly leaning toward Baxter to give him one last brief kiss before lowering myself in a controlled drop to the ground. I took one last look up at the slender figure on the balcony, giving a little wave before bounding off, my run turning into a solo dance of slow twirls, feeling like Eliza Doolittle in ‘My Fair Lady’:

“I could have danced all night

I could have danced all night

And still, have begged, for more…”

#baxtermcweek #kitkat #baxter ward #our life #our life beginnings & always #our life beginnings and always #olba #gb patch games #our life baxter #our life: beginnings & always #olba baxter

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ladylooch · 2 months ago

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/ladylooch/767641187607805952/i-am-never-going-to-recover-from-jake-middletons?source=share

1) Will you give us an idea of David talking about his newborn son on a podcast?

2) Also, promise me that David washes his hair. Why does Jake do the weirdest things every time?

This is soooooo hard for me to answer without giving things away! I'll keep in as general as I can... As for the hair, don't even get me started. What the heck was that????? 🤣 Jake is so unique, you can't even make this shit up.

"Welcome back to the pod, David."

"Thanks for having me back. Guess your ratings didn't go down last time eh?"

"No, the people love you man. Hey should we be calling you Daddy David now?" The podcast host quips. David chuckles, taking a sip of his water. "Do you like that?"

"I don't know, you seem to tho?"

"Your wife probably does." David's head knocks back and laughs.

"Yeah she does."

"You have a good summer, buddy? We haven't caught up with you yet this year. Tell us about it."

"Great summer." He nods. "It was different, a lot of things changed for us in July when our son was born, but in the best way. We have been chasing sleep ever since."

"You grew up getting up early on the farm though so was it still a hard shift for you?"

"Yeah." David nods his head, eyes wide. "Like I grew up waking up early and I'm a morning person for the most part, but it's hard when you have to get up so much throughout the night. Ya know? You bring 'em home and they're on that every three hour schedule for the night with changing and feedings, but it's not really three hours. By the time you're done with everything it's like two hours. Then he's sleeping away. I'm wide awake staring at the ceiling, trying to hear if he's breathing or not." David smiles. "It's not as scary now that he's going on month four."

"Yeah, the newborn stage is rough. I remember that with my kids. Like just being so afraid they were suddenly not breathing or like, being so tired you blank on how to change a diaper."

"Yeah. There were definitely some nights there where my wife was like 'are you awake?' and I honestly couldn't say yes or no back to her." The three men laugh.

"But mom and baby are good?"

"Yeah, they're great. My wife is a trooper. I'm so proud of her. Things did not go according to plan, but we rolled with it and he's here, healthy and perfect."

"That's great. We saw you the other day with him at the glass during warm ups. Obviously, you did that with your nieces before but what is it like with your kid now?"

"Oh man..." David grins, trailing off to think of the words. "I can't really describe it. Just so cool that he is here with us now and gets to sit in the stands and watch me.

"Will it change your style at all? Like we won't see as many fighting majors for you?"

"No... well, I don't know." David laughs. "I try to stay out of the box, but if I need to step into that role, I'm not afraid of it. He's too young to understand that right now, but if we have to talk through that when he is older, I'm fine with that. My wife probably feels differently about that though."

"He is a future enforcer maybe?"

"I think mom would hate that." David snorts.

"He can't be an enforcer when his grandpa is Nico Hischier."

"Nico could throw a few punches around." David defends. "I hope he wants to play, but I can't say I would want him to step into an enforcer role."

"What would be worse, enforcer or a goalie?"

"Oh a goalie for sure. That would be really hard to watch." David shakes his head.

"But whatever he wants it good with me."

#mackdavid au

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ceasarslegion · 3 months ago

Note

Hey man I just wanted to give you condolences for how hard this work shit is causing you to struggle. Just one of those things everyone has their own crosses to bear in regards to toxic workplaces. If you are considering a change in careers I'm sure it can't be too hard to translate your experience to somewhere less intense.

Thank you 😭

I just need to get out of this specific place to somewhere that let's me rest and get my ducks in a row from here. It sucks to be at a part of my life where I realize I'm not doing what makes me happy and I have to start all over. My 20s have felt like an endless cycle of starting all over honestly, but my family tells me that's normal for your 20s and it's why they suck so bad and that I'm doing fine for a 25 year old. They've told me in a worst case scenario I could come crash with them and be a paid farmhand at my aunt and uncles cattle ranch while I figure things out, but I'm not a country guy at all. It would make me so much mentally worse to leave the city, but at least I have a nuclear option if things really blow up in my face. I'm not in danger of being utterly out of work with no roof over my head or food to eat.

I think the security industry has just gone to hell honestly. It used to be a respectable and livable job where you were trusted to handle things and weren't expected to put your life on the line for customer service experience or whatever. You could bring your books and little things to play with while on guard duty because no one expected you to just stare at the fucking wall for 8 straight hours if there was nothing to respond to. I actually first got into security early on in uni because it allowed me to do my schoolwork at work so I could balance school and finances without being utterly devoid of free time or sacrificing my sleep. As long as the checklist got done and the building was still standing at the end of my shift, they were happy.

Now they treat us like a hybrid between emergency responders and customer service representatives. We aren't emergency responders, we're supposed to be the mid ground responders. Yknow, the incidents that need intervention but aren't threats to public safety. You don't call the cops on someone screaming at the service staff or the fire department when you lock yourself out, you call security. In recent years it's turned into "well what can you do to both curtail actual emergencies and make their *experience* better?" That's not my job!! Nowhere in my job description or certifications does it say I'm a first responder! I'm not supposed to be! I'm the guy who assigns tasks and keeps everyone's head screwed on when the emergencies happen but I am not the guy who puts my own life in danger to solve them. Do not ask me to do that for 23 bucks an hour and no mental health benefits and then ask me why the guy screaming at me wasnt happy with his experience today, what's wrong with all of you

Luckily my old work friend got out and found work doing like, proper big boy government aviation security for celebrities and political figures. She tells me there's no drama or mean girl bullshit there because there's only like 5 of them and there's no need to prove themselves to each other. And it starts a whole wealth bracket above what I make now. I gave her my credentials and CV and she said she'd pass them on and put in a good word for me, so I hope that goes somewhere. Other than that my like regular schedule now is waking up and going right to my pc to open the city job board and hitting apply on everything I even remotely could do

Sorry this turned into a bit of a rant man, I really do appreciate the gesture. And as a general sentiment, please be nice to security guards. We're going through enough as it is

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themonsterthing · 1 year ago

Text

Sunrises and Solo Polyamory

Today I met god.

I don’t normally eat breakfast, but this sweet middle-aged Italian man pushed the freshly plated bread pudding at me. It was a faintly steaming, overwhelming pile of blueberries atop a moist cake layer. A stronger man than I would have crumbled. “Try it!”

I took a bite. I died.

I came back to life, and the Italian was beaming at me. “Yes? Yes!”

This morning I woke up obnoxiously early. I am hitting that old person stage of life (at the ancient age of 36) where you get up hours before everyone else, so by dawn, you’re cranky about no one else being ready to do anything. So I laid in bed, read a chapter of my book, and decided to go find the sunrise. I wandered a pre-dawn empty pier, stumbled upon some enthusiastic elder humans (see? my people) splashing into the freezing water in the fog, their little brightly coloured buoys bobbing after, the only signs they ever existed in this ethereal landscape, before I went to treat myself to sugary caffeine at a nearby bakery.

Bakers, swimmers, and photographers: sacrificing the comfort of a warm bed for our joy in life.

I left heaven clutching a to-go container of pure joy and one perfect hazelnut latte, and drove to the top of the mountain to eat it and watch the fog roll in.

And this, my friends, is why I identify as solo polyamorous.

Solo polyamory is an oft misunderstood branch of non-monogamy. It does not mean I am single but polyamorous — which is often how it is used, even by those who should know better. No, what it means is that, no matter what, I come first. Well, let’s be real, it’s my cat, my art, and then me. The definition of solo polyamory is that our first partner — our “primary” — is ourselves. Even when entangled, we come first.

This does not mean you’re not responsible for your emotions and how they affect others. To be a good human means community, and care. It does not mean I always prioritize my own needs. I am really good at empathy, at compromise. It just means that in considering how I interact with others, I negotiate from that framework.

What that looks like, in my life, is that I live without a partner, and while that may change eventually, I don’t want it to currently. And if I did, I would always need my own bedroom. Why?

Because I want the ability to wake up at 5am, read a chapter of my current book, then decide I want to go watch the sunrise — without worrying about someone in bed next to me. My cat may grumble, but he grumbles whenever I’m not in bed with him. (He’s pretty codependent.)

I want to prioritize sunrises, books, adventures, my cat.

Does it mean I don’t want to wake up next to my loved ones? Not at all. I do. I love it. But instead, I don’t want to take it for granted. I don’t want to get so comfortable, to expect their presence, that when they do choose to sleep over, my priority becomes cuddling up with them. I want my moments with them to be intentional, to be important. The trade off is not getting comfortable and lazy with a person because you know where they’ll be most nights. But that is a trade I find desirable.

I want the interactions in my relationships to be an active choice.

This is a choice I make because of trauma, I know that. Does it make it wrong? No. It is right — for me. Is it your choice? I have no idea, I’m not you. But I hope whatever you choose is healthy for you.

I want sunrises without worrying I’m disturbing my bed mate. I want to listen to music at midnight. I want to go alone to the museum, to wander undisturbed — unless I choose to do it with a companion. And then I get the joy of their presence being a choice, being intentional. I will never take it for granted, because I know it was not a given. I had to reach out, schedule, organize time with them.

It takes more effort, but that is an effort I want to give my humans. And if I need to have a quiet day with someone, where we just sit next to each other in comfortable silence, I can have that too — I just have to ask.

I am not saying it is not possible to find someone perfectly aligned, who would give you comfortable lazy mornings, and wild adventures. I just don’t want that. I don’t want just one. I want wildly different brains, different perspectives, different ideas, different backstories. And thus, polyamory.

The beauty of polyamory, of the way I live my life in general, is that no one person fills all my slots. And so it means I have a lot of room for everyone to find their own niche. Some, it’s sitting quietly. Some, it’s laughing forever over stupid internet jokes. Others, it’s wild sex. Some fill a lot of slots — I often have partners who are sex, love, friendship, adventure — but maybe not art. Maybe not getting excited by plants. I want everyone to flourish in a way that feels best to them, and authentic to our relationship. I am a wildly varied human — I have lots of space for others. And so when I have a space I feel longing for, I reach out to a friend who might fill that need.

Conversely, my friends know the spaces I can take up; the spaces I avoid. I am not your bar friend, but I am your ocean friend. I am not your gossip friend, but I am here for deep conversations at 2am about the meaning of life.

So I choose scheduling over comfort, over ease. I choose to make a lot of effort, I choose to have a deep love affair with my calendar. I choose intention. I choose sunrises, and delicious blueberry bread, and delighted bakers.

(Originally published on Medium, this is the sunrise I found.)

#polyamory #solo polyamory #values #photographer #non-monogamy #queer #thoughts and such #personal

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leiawritesstories · 2 years ago

Text

a song that had been just ours

word count: 1.2k

warnings: yeah i'm just gonna hide now

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

Aelin was exhausted by the end of the day. She barely managed to get herself out of her office, propelled only by the knowledge that her boyfriend was home and making dinner, according to his text. At the front desk, Elide waved goodnight, laughing a little when Aelin didn't respond.

"Get some sleep, Ae."

"If only," Aelin joked. "Got a hell of a case right now, it's killing my sleep schedule."

"Lady, you do not have a sleep schedule." Elide snorted. "Seven hours, minimum. If you're here before I am tomorrow, I will kick your ass."

"Fine, fine." Aelin headed out the door. "I'll try."

She came home to the delicious aroma of grilled chicken and risotto, almost groaning in delight when her boyfriend handed her a glass of her favorite Cabernet. "I fucking love you, babe."

"Love you too, Ae," he chuckled, kissing her forehead. "Bad case?"

"Complicated." She leant into his warm embrace, wishing she could say more. But unfortunately, an NDA was an NDA. "It'll be okay, though." She took a long pull of the wine. "Shit, that's good."

He grinned. "Food's ready whenever you are."

"Lovely." She set down her wineglass. "I'll be down in a minute."

Aelin headed upstairs to change into her comfortable clothes, stopping momentarily when she saw the gift her boyfriend had left on the bed. A lovely bouquet of daffodils, tied with a ribbon as vibrant as the flowers' petals. Briefly, a half-smile darted across her face. He'd brought her daffodils on their first date almost two years ago, his bashful grin hidden behind the bright blooms.

So had her--someone else, but that was far in the past.

She headed back downstairs for dinner, pausing to kiss the side of her boyfriend's neck. "Love the flowers, babe."

"I'm glad." His eyes twinkled. "Still your favorite?"

"Of course." The answer he needed to hear. Really, her favorite flowers were red chrysanthemums, but only one person had ever known that.

She shut that person back in the locked room of her memories.

"Gods, this looks incredible." She inhaled deeply, relishing the scent of hot, home-cooked food. "You're the best, babe."

"You are." He kissed her head. "An ass-kickin' lawyer like you deserves someone to cook for her."

She chuckled. "We love a man who knows how to please his girlfriend."

"Oh, believe me," he smirked, a darker light gleaming in his eyes, "he knows how to do that."

Nights like this were when she wished she could cry. Or laugh. Or anything to show emotion. She wished she hadn't trained emotion out of her from such a young age, wished she was still able to let the broken pieces of her old self shine through.

She'd used up all her tears years ago, though.

Exhaling softly so as not to wake her slumbering boyfriend, Aelin turned over onto her side and shut her eyes, practicing the breathing exercise her therapist had taught her. Inhale, hold, and exhale, banishing all those pesky thoughts from her mind, until all she knew was still, dark silence and the beckoning warmth of sleep.

She awoke to a melody so achingly familiar it brought tears springing to her eyes.

That song--their song. The song they used to scream at the top of their lungs. The song they'd danced to for the first time in high school and again in--no. No.

She couldn't be remembering that right now.

"Hey." Her boyfriend stuck his head into the bedroom, a towel slung low around his waist, his hair still damp from the shower. "You alright?"

Aelin swallowed. "Fine." She turned off her alarm. "Slept a little late."

He came over to her, soft sympathy on his face. "Kiss to make it better?"

She chuckled. "Since when did you become my mom, babe?"

"Let me fuss a little, babe," he laughed, kissing her gently. "Need another?" He kissed her again, hungrier.

And because she was a weak, weak woman, Aelin sighed into his kiss and untucked his towel, letting him roll them over into the sheets, and lost herself in the world of his touch.

She arrived at her office a solid hour later than normal, pointedly ignoring Elide's sly smirk and wink.

"Get it, girl!" Elide cheered quietly.

Aelin pretended to glare for about two seconds. "Dammit, El! I can't hide anything, can I?"

"Definitely not that hickey," Elide snickered.

Aelin flushed and hurried into the bathroom, emerging a moment later with the hickey properly concealed. Just in time, too, because the door buzzed right as she was walking into her office.

Elide threw her a brief look of camaraderie. "I'll keep them for a few minutes so you can get set up."

"You're the best." Aelin strode into her office, turned on the lights, and settled down at her desk, opening her laptop and waking up her work computer. She clicked open the files for this client, organizing the digital files and the physical paperwork neatly atop her desk. When she was ready, she took a deep breath, released it, and rang Elide.

"Send them in."

Far too late--early?--Aelin laid in bed awake, her gaze trained on the ceiling. Her boyfriend slept peacefully beside her, his warmth so close, so inviting, but so far out of reach. So far away from what she needed.

She'd used up all her tears years ago, though.

Burning pine eyes jerked her out of her fragile calm.

She gasped, half sitting up, the sudden movement waking her boyfriend.

"Babe?" he mumbled, bleary. "You alright?"

"Fine." Her voice was a bare whisper.

He rolled over, dark eyes locking onto hers. "Are you sure?" For a short moment, he looked a little hesitant. "Do you need anything?"

It took Aelin only a split second to make her decision. "Just you, babe." She painted a sleepy smile across her face. "Wanna make me forget my nightmare?"

His hand slid across her face, cupping her cheek. "If you need me."

She slotted herself against him, tangling her lags with his. "Always." She ignored the burn in her throat as she spoke that word. "I always need you, Sam."

And as Sam Cortland touched her, tasted her, whispered soft praises into her ear, Aelin closed her eyes and let her body take over, let the heat of passion burn through the coldness of her frozen heart, banishing the searing memories of her Rowan, her only love, back to the darkest reaches of her mind. She'd cried her last tears for him years ago.

Hell, she was his divorce attorney now--trouble in paradise with the better woman, or something.

She had no more tears for that other love.

~~~

TAGS:

@live-the-fangirl-life

@superspiritfestival

@thegreyj

@wordsafterhours

@elentiyawhitethorn

@morganofthewildfire

@backtobl4ck

@rowanaelinn

@house-of-galathynius

@tomtenadia

@julemmaes

@swankii-art-teacher

@charlizeed

@booknerdproblems

@chronicchthonic14

@earthtolinds

@goddess-aelin

@sweet-but-stormy

@clea-nightingale

@autumnbabylon

@darling-im-the-queen-of-hell

@llyncooljones

@silentquartz

#my writing #aelin galathynius #aelin ashryver galathynius #rowan whitethorn #rowaelin #or is it #hehehehehe #yes this is frederick #and i have had my fun #FREDERICK STOP WRITING MY TAGS DAMMIT

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milkymoon2483 · 2 years ago

Text

The Blue Elephant

Push & Pull - Episode 1 Frank Castle X Plus Size Jewish OFC

Series Masterlist | Next Episode

Summary: DBF but dad’s dead. Your’e going back to your small town for your father’s funeral and Shiva. You know you’re about to face family drama but what worries you the most is that you’re going to see HIM.

Disclaimers:

This episode mentions a 14 year old girl having an UNRECIPROCATED crush on a much older man. HE SEES HER AS A CHILD at this point.

I’m Jewish (and plus size) but I do not live in the US, so there might be some differences in the way certain things are done and some inaccuracies. My apologies.

Yes this is self indulgent because I’m feral for this man.

I’m secular and will not be discussing Judaism in length. Will explain some basics though that are mentioned in the story.

Rating: E.18+. MINORS DNI.

Warnings: Teenage crush on a much older man, Mentions of alcoholism, divorce, trauma, plus size reader, insecurities, age gap, violence, sex, food, and probably a bunch of other stuff. This is a little dark. WC: ~3300

Thank you my lovelies. @romanarose @hbc8 @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @boysddontcry @imaswellkid

The blue elephant.

Your phone rang in an ungodly hour, waking you up from a dream you had forgotten as soon as you opened your eyes. 8:15 AM. Who dares calling you this early on semester break?!

"Hello, am I speaking to Hannah Friedman?"

"Hi, yes, who is this?" You answered, barely recognizing your own voice that was hoarse with sleep.

"Miss Friedman, my name's Michael Katz, I was your father's attorney. I'm very sorry for your loss. I'm calling regarding his will."

Confusion flooded you, and for a moment you were sure the man calling had the wrong number.

Suddenly your heart dropped, the true meaning of his words not fully sinking into your skull just yet.

"Miss Friedman….?" His voice tried to break the long pause.

"Yeah, I'm sorry, could you repeat that?"

"I'm calling regarding your father's will, since he passed away…"

"Shit. Sorry, I just…I didn't know. Shit. When did it happen?"

Your father was dead.

Michael Katz, bless his heart, apologized profusely for the terrible way you had to find out. He proceeded to explain everything in great detail, making sure to schedule a meeting with you as soon as you got into town for his funeral. He died in the early hours of the previous evening. Cirrhosis complications after years of excessive drinking, that’s what finally did him in, a part of you was surprised he lasted that long. 54 years old at the time of his death, Saul Friedman was a sick man, and not much of a father to begin with. A recovering alcoholic at the best of times, he rarely called or took much interest in your life, despite living 45 minutes away.

When you turned twelve things changed for the better, after bumping into you on a trip to a local supermarket with your mom and her new boyfriend, he suddenly felt an urgent need to get sober, and get to know you better. Your mother agreed, she took less convincing than both of you had anticipated. You ended up visiting more, and staying for a few weeks each summer, the community pool around the corner being your main incentive. Your relationship was never able to fully recover, but you both tried your best. You’d often say you loved him but sometimes didn’t really like him.

Your mother was his second wife, and after three years of marriage and one kid, they divorced, very much non-amicably, leaving a trail of wreckage behind them. You were thankful that you were just a toddler, too young to truly understand how deeply they've wounded each other clawing their way out of what your mother described to be the ‘worst three years of my goddamn life’. You'd often wonder, had she not been jewish, would she be saved from the displeasure of ever marrying him in the first place. Your grandparents must have insisted on him having jewish children, and according to Halacha*, their mom had to be one.

You remembered the last time you visited him, the visit was cut short when you caught him drinking again. “ You don't get to preach me” he lashed out at you, “You’re a bitch just like your mother”.

You left abruptly after that, not willing to take more of his crap. At that point you were visiting for him, because you felt obligated to do that. That sense of obligation was gone.

He called to apologize a few weeks later, but the dry conversation left much to be desired. Since then you’ve called and texted occasionally, but you never came to visit again, coming up with various excuses to avoid it.

Now he was dead.

"At least he knew when to die.." you later told your best friend, Grace. He had the sensibility to pass on right at the beginning of the winter break from college, giving you a good few weeks to deal with it before coming back to school to finish your final year. You could share your appreciation for your fathers morbid timing with Grace, but there was one thing you couldn't. A thought so shameful you smacked it back to where it came from as soon as it surfaced. You refused to acknowledge it, refused to name it, there would be no talking and no thinking of him. Not right now.

It was about as effective as telling yourself not to think about a blue elephant. You kept playing the game of 'whack a mole' with your brain, and kept losing. Your father was dead, and it took you mere seconds to realize that you’re going to see him.

Summer 2013

You looked at yourself in the water- damaged mirror, it was crooked and filled with specks of rust, large stains of disilvering ate away at your reflection. The one piece purple bathing suit was wet, clinging to your form, accentuating the awkward lumpiness of your chest and belly under the harsh fluorescent lighting. Your mother picked it out with you, from the sale rack in TJmaxx’s women’s department. That miserable shopping trip almost made you cry. Most of them did. Your adolescent body didn't look right, didn't feel right. It was all too much, too round, too full. You’d follow your much smaller mother around the shops, gradually losing hope with every one you passed, settling eventually on another trip to Starbucks. An iced vanilla latte was sure to cheer you up. You took solace in your sunglasses, rimmed in a bright red thick frame. The ones you nagged your dad into buying you, they made you feel cool. As cool as you could, that is. A piece of 'coolness' that belonged to you. You placed them on your nose with a slight sense of pride, heading out of the bathrooms.

Your eyes searched for him immediately, finding him lounging on one of the sun-beds. Alone. Walking as inconspicuously as you could, you sat on the bed next to him, pretending not to notice him. You dove head first into your bag, looking for your phone. don’t look at him, don't look at him. Your thoughts raced, desperately hoping that he would be the one to look at you.

You've known Frank for a couple of years, as your dad's friend and neighbor. He would often join you for Shabbat dinner, bringing a bottle of a non- alcoholic beverage or some fruit. He was younger than your dad but you weren't sure by how much.

You’ve always found him hot, it was impossible not to, with his sharp jaw and boyish smile. He was tall and broad and handsome. You nursed your little secret crush on him, getting excited and giddy every time he came to visit, not daring to mention to anyone that you even found this old man so attractive.

This, however, was the first time you’ve seen him shirtless, and your fourteen year-old self could not handle the sight. You gawked at the grown man uncontrollably, your gaze hidden only by your ‘cool’ sunglasses. The biceps, the pecs, the broadness of his shoulders and the way his torso tapered into his waist. The dip of his spine, the muscles of his back, the way the droplets of water clung to his skin and made it glisten…it all made your brain short- circuit, melt under the fog of hormones.

“Hey kiddo, I like the sunglasses” He suddenly said, in a tone more cheerful than you’d expected.

“Thanks” you muttered. It took your poor brain a few attempts to signal your mouth to smile. You hated it when he called you ‘kiddo’. You wished it would be ‘sweetheart’ or ‘darling' or ‘doll’.

“Can I try them on?” he smirked.

You handed them to him without a word, scrunching your face at the sun. Youv'e learned that it is often better to say nothing rather than risk embarrassing yourself.

Frank put them on, they looked ridiculous of course, the bright red cat-eye was in sharp juxtaposition to his purely masculine features. He chuckled and pulled on the temple tips behind his ear- bouncing them on his large nose, causing you to giggle.

"There she is! Don't be so serious all the time, kiddo. Have some fun" he smiled and handed them back to you, the tip of his finger brushing against yours. Never washing my hands again. You decided, as he got up and headed towards the pool. Your eyes followed him as usual, admiring the broadness of him.

The water was buzzing with activity, and all you could think about is how much you'd love it to be empty. It was far too crowded to swim, but it did allow you to keep staring uninterrupted.

The friendly game of 'throw the ball as hard as you can and cause the biggest splash' was on. Your dad had your cousin Jacob on his shoulders, the scrawny nine year old was doing quite a bit of damage, landing a throw so accurate it splashed violently all across Frank's face.

Frank shook the water off, spotting you in the corner of the pool, and swam right towards you. "Come on Hannah banana, I need your help, let's get em' " he smiled widely, and before you had a chance to respond he dove underneath you.

The gravity beneath you shifted as he began lifting you up from the water. You yelped loudly and grabbed tightly at the head that popped up between your legs, trying to steady yourself.

You haven't done this since you were seven, when you were light enough to be held on anyone's shoulders, but Frank lifted you up effortlessly, like you weighed nothing, like it was no trouble at all.

Your thighs squeezed against his neck and shoulders. The ball somehow landed in your hands but all you could think about were franks palms, gripping your legs tightly, keeping you firmly on him. A heady mixture of emotions stirred in your belly. The fear of falling into the pool, mixed with the exhilaration of Frank's hands on your thighs. You could see his large fingers pressing into your flesh, and it was making your head spin.

You threw the ball as hard as you could, landing a pretty decent splash on your aunt's face. She laughingly demanded her son 'avenge her'. A few more splashes and Jacob came face to face with you, attempting to push you off Frank's shoulders. The poor kid clearly underestimated your determination, and promptly landed in the water, ass first. Frank cheered you on, patting his large palm on your leg before letting you fall into the pool with a little nudge. You emerged from the water laughing, the adrenaline coursing through your veins so potent you could not stop, giggling almost uncontrollably as it sizzled through you. "Yeah! We win! suck it!" Frank's arms wrapped around you in a tight hug, your body reciprocated before your mind had a chance to catch up, squishing your cheek against his chest. It was over before you even realized. A quick innocent congratulatory hug, that pressed you against his solid frame that towered over you, sending your already overstimulated brain into a tailspin.

*******

You remembered that day vividly, in detail, every part of your visit to the pool was etched into your mind. It was like a switch flipped, or a wire was plugged in, sometimes you likened it to a detonation of a bomb. It confused you at first, you were flooded with something so potent that it took you a while to recognize what that was. The tingling sensation between your thighs was familiar, but it was never this intense. The deep shameful truth was that from that day forward, Frank Castle was responsible for the vast majority of your orgasms, without touching you once. It horrified you at first, especially when you learned that he was 19 years older than you. You were disgusted with yourself, with the thoughts that kept getting increasingly more explicit as you aged. It didn’t matter if you were touching yourself or having sex with someone else. It didn’t matter how it started, it would almost always end with him. His voice, his hands, his face, thinking about him was the sure fire way of making yourself cum.

You hated yourself for thinking about him right now, on the way to your fathers fucking funeral. It was like a pavlovian response you could not shake. You were equal parts hoping you'd see him and dreading the thought of facing him. It’s been three years since you saw him last, and something changed that day.

Hanukkah 2019

The snow was piling outside, a wintery scene in complete contrast to the heat in your dad's kitchen. You were with your aunt Deborah, Jacob’s mom. She always loved it when you came to visit, she loved it especially when she got to spend time cooking with you. Being a boy-mom, they never took interest in her cooking. You however loved it, your mother was never much of a cook and this was your chance to learn from a true expert. You were making Sufganiyot* for Hanukkah. The jewish bakery made them well, but Aunt Deborah’s were divine. Something about adding buttermilk to the dough.

When Frank came that day it wasn’t planned. “Deb, are you making the jewish doughnuts again? I can smell it all the way across my yard, you’re killing me” his voice boomed as he entered the house. Your heart skipped. You were in your apron, covered in flour, and very much unprepared to see the man you harbored a weird sexual obsession towards.

“Come in Frank, they’re still hot” Deborah replied as she met him at the door, and Frank's heavy boots marched straight to the kitchen.

“Oh, hey there Hannah banana” he greeted you fondly, giving you a small wave. 20 years old, and still "Hannah banana"...

“Hey Frank” you waved back, not taking your eyes off the man.

He plucked a fresh warm Sufgania off the tray, covered in powdered sugar, with a little dollop of red jam on top. “Mmmm come here baby” he growled and stuffed his face into the soft dough, taking a huge bite, muttering “oh my god” and rolling his eyes back in pleasure. This man will be the death of you.

Frank chewed in delight as you tried not to laugh at him, his nose was covered in powdered sugar and jam. He looked back at you, fully aware of the dire situation of his face. “What? What?? I got something on my face?” he smirked, prompting you to giggle.

“Come here Kiddo, you have to taste this”.

He began to slowly advance towards you, before fully chasing you around the kitchen with the Sufgania in hand. You squealed, ‘trying’ to get away from him and ‘failing’. When he finally caught you and cornered you against the wall, he stuffed the remaining dough in your face. You laughed hysterically while attempting to clean your face from the sugar and jam, wiping a small drop from the corner of your mouth with your thumb, and sucking the finger, looking up at Frank through your lashes. Your eyes met at that exact moment, and for a beat you both got quiet. Too quiet.

His laughter faded into a polite smile almost instantly, as he backed off and walked out of the kitchen.

He never touched you again after that day. He was not even around for the rest of your visit. You saw him once more, just when you were leaving back to college. Instead of the usual goodbye hug he settled for a wave and a “Bye kiddo”, shortly disappearing back into the house.

Maybe he saw something in your eyes, something inappropriate that shouldn’t have been there in the first place. Maybe that’s when he realized that every time he touched you was like pouring gasoline into a raging fire. Maybe things could have been different, if only you were older, thinner, sexier…not just Saul’s chubby awkward kid.

It only took a second, one fucking second for Frank to notice what was right in front of him this whole goddamn time. One look into your soft eyes, One flick of pink tongue on your finger, and it was all clear. The thought traveled so fast from his cock to his brain he barely stopped it in time, running out of that kitchen as fast as humanly possible. You were just a kid, Saul’s kid. It was obviously sick to think about you in any other capacity.

He remembered the time you all went ice skating, how he held your little hand when you kept stumbling and falling. The time when he took you for your first unofficial driving lesson just before you turned 16, in the empty supermarket parking lot. The time when you called him looking for your dad, he told you he’s probably asleep, and you began crying because you knew what that meant.

Were you looking at him like that the entire time? You had no fucking business looking at him like that. How dare you look at him like that.

*******

You had just a few hours to get ready and make the trip back into your hometown for the funeral the following morning. Knowing how jewish funerals worked you weren't surprised, most are buried within 48 hours of passing.

Just a 3 hour trip from college, it felt like a different planet. You looked out of the frosted car window as Deborah was driving you both to her house, where the shiva* would be held. The snow fell softly and the storefronts decorated for Christmas gave your small town a charming cozy atmosphere. You could almost forget where you were headed.

Beth Moses cemetery was eerily foggy, the two dozen people who had gathered for your father’s funeral were murmuring almost silently to each other.

“You shouldn’t have worn that. And take that lipstick off, this is not a party.” your mother whispered as loudly as she possibly could, not taking into consideration that her voice carried. “Cover yourself up, here take my scarf” , you let her drape the back scarf over you, covering the dark gray sweater dress you were wearing under your coat, the one she deemed inappropriate because it showed some cleavage and clung to your belly a little too much for her liking.

“Well, thanks for the kriah* I won’t be wearing this again after this week, mother” you replied sarcastically. Even though sarcasm never seemed to work on that woman, she was immune to your snide comments, nothing could penetrate the thick layer of self righteousness she wore like her favorite garment the whole fucking time.

“Hey Han” Your heart skipped a beat at the sound of the familiar deep voice. He appeared before you almost instantly, mercifully tearing your attention from your mother and her constant disapproval. He leaned in for a polite hug, the scent of his cologne flooding your senses, spicy and crisp. He looked the same, just like you remembered and envisioned thousands of times. Same intense dark eyes, same strong jaw, same boxer's nose that you adored.

“How have you been?” he asked, his voice quiet and grave.

“Hey Frank, I’m ok, yeah..” you replied, robotically, still a little shocked to see him again.

"Jackie…" he acknowledged your mother with a nod, before proceeding to greet other members of the family.

The small crowd surrounded the newly dug grave, muttering “amen” with the rabbi as he read the Kadish*. The vapor from their mouths like a silent choir in the cold.

Sunshine broke briefly through the clouds as Saul Friedman’s casket was lowered into the earth. There was something pathetic about how small it looked, and your heart wrenched at the sight. Debora’s silent tears prompted your own but you sniffled, looking up, not allowing them to escape. “Shalom aba” you mumbled as you placed a small stone on the mound of soil that now covered him…

FIN.

Series Masterlist | Next Episode

Halacha - Jewish scripture. According to the rules in order for a person to be considered Jewish their mother needs to be Jewish. (according to Orthodox Judaism) Shiva - “Seven” - a period of seven days after the funeral when the family mourns the death. People often come to visit several times during the shiva. Kriah - “Tearing” - When a next of kin dies, the nuclear family members (parents, children, siblings) have their garments torn, to symbolize mourning. The garment is discarded after the shiva. Sufganiyot - (Singular: Sufganya) - Jewish doughnuts, served on Hanukkah. Traditionally filled with jam and topped with powdered sugar. Kaddish - A prayer said during the jewish funeral. Shalom Aba - “Goodbye dad”

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#frank castle #frank castle x female reader #frank castle angst #jon bernthal #jewish representation #jewish reader #x plus size reader #original character

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whentherewerebicycles · 2 years ago

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oh i am powerfully grumpy today let me list the reasons why to break their hold over me! and then i will list the substantive good things that will counterbalance the grumpiness.

WHY AM I GRUMPY

didn’t sleep well and got up too early (this, as you will see, is probably the root of all other ills)

was pretty cranky with ruthie at 5am because she wouldn’t poop and wanted to just wander around outside & take a little walk instead. which fine but i was so tired and grumpy already haha. and then i always feel like a CRUEL MONSTER after i have spoken to her a bit sharply because she is a sweet little girl and sometimes you just don’t have to poop ok! also sometimes when i have been short with the dogs i am like oh great this is like a two-second glimpse of the lowest setting of sleep-deprived parenthood i bet i am going to handle that GREAT. (you can see here how i was already in that Mood where your crabbiness starts magnetizing all other free-floating crabbiness in the ether towards it)

got a little cranky on the phone with my mom because it felt like she was taking a liiiittle dig at me about the salary cut i’m taking (i don’t think she intentionally was i was just already kind of grumpy and sensitive)

i am experiencing some lowgrade anxiety about the HSG test tomorrow, partly because i have read that is going to be moderately painful and partly because i am worried it will reveal bigger problems

my lead just straight up stood me up for a meeting today lol... i was on the teams call for 10 min just waiting and then she didn’t respond to any of my messages so i hung up but can’t really wander away from my laptop in case she calls me back... i’ve been just kinda Over It for a while but man it is annoying when she does stuff like this. also lol she did the thing in a meeting yesterday where i offered to review this tiny inconsequential project real quick with my boss and my lead jumped in to be like “to make the best use of [boss]’s time, i think it’s best if i review the content first to ensure everything looks okay” which is code for “i am going to make one formatting change and then schedule a meeting with our boss without inviting you where i imply that your work was so shoddy i had to make MAJOR changes to salvage it.” i was just like sure girl. whatever. enjoy these last few days of getting to powertrip over me. you are so close to being in my rearview mirror forever.

i only have like 1-2 pointless work projects left before my last day (next friday) but they are so pointless and so hazily defined that working on them plunges me into a deep work despair spiral even though i am SO close to being done with this stupid job. i know i need to just pull myself together and finish them but wow. i hate this.

some IRL friend stuff is making me a little bit irritated and i just need to sit down for a minute at some point and decide if/how i want to react to it. it’s genuinely not a big deal it’s just one of those situations where there have been multiple small annoyances that are not exactly anyone’s fault but cumulatively just make me feel a little put-out. however i am aware that if i’d slept 2 more hours last night i might feel totally different about it so i am just bracketing it today.

phew okay. now WHAT ARE SOME OF THE GENUINELY GOOD & MEANINGFUL THINGS IN MY LIFE THAT ARE FILLING ME WITH A SENSE OF GRATITUDE THAT I GET TO BE ALIVE IN THIS WORLD IN THIS MOMENT?

i wrote for 3+ hours this morning and feel really intrigued by the project... not sure if i have a sense of where it’s going yet but it’s been quite a while since i’ve been in that headspace where you wake up and reach blearily for your phone right away because you’re just HUNGRY to review the writing you did the previous night & start working on the new draft. i am very, very much hoping that a change of job and scenery will jumpstart my creativity a bit... i think it’s just challenging to write when literally nothing is happening in your life. you have all this open unstructured time, which means you don’t value any of the time you have (because if you don’t write in THIS empty moment you can always put it off to the next empty moment!), and then you are just sitting at home not experiencing any social or intellectual stimuli so i feel like you don’t get that “lots of ideas sloshing around in my brain... new encounters triggering new ways of looking at or connecting them... back-burner brain stuff simmering while doing other activities” stuff going. ANYWAY this is all to say it feels good to be writing again & feeling excited about writing whether or not this one sticks. i am just happier when i am engaging in the practice of making things even if i am not finishing things.

part of why i started writing again is that i got two extremely long, detailed, thoughtful comments on my last story from another writer that just made me feel so, so good and creatively energized. all comments are soooo good/valued but i feel like there is something extra special about getting that kind of extremely detailed feedback from a talented writer who picks up on why you did certain things and has a very clear sense of the really, really time-intensive revision and redrafting work that goes into weaving multiple layers into a story. i read the comments yesterday and at first was happy but also kind of in a funk about it - like it was SO nice and affirming to receive them but i have also kind of built that story up in my mind to be the best/most fully realized thing i’ve ever written and can sometimes get down on myself feeling like i’ll never be able to top it or even repeat it. but then i read the comments several more times and started thinking about some of the specific scenes or choices the person was highlighting and just remembering how many times i patiently reworked not-great versions of those scenes to just steadily make them better and more effective. and i was just like okay listen. it just takes hard work and time. i have to put in the hard work. i have to invest the time. i have to give up the fantasy that the first version i write (or the second version or the tenth version) is going to be, or should be, perfect. i’m so proud of that polished final work but to get there i had to really keep the draft shitty and unfinished and patchworked-together and rough around the edges so that i could have the flexibility to rearrange things and torpedo what wasn’t working and generate new ideas through new combinations of rough material. so get over yourself and get to work, you idiot, or you really will never make anything again because you’ll have gotten wrapped up in some fantasy of doing things perfectly the very first time. ANYWAY it was a journey haha but those comments got me moving again and it really made me remember again how much i value being part of a creative community where you get to have that kind of engagement with other readers and writers.

i think it’s going to be a stupidly gorgeous day out! and then a stupidly gorgeous next week or two! soooo nice to have nice weather!! spring is here!!! i scrubbed down the deck last night before bed finally and am now just awaiting the delivery of the outdoor rug and side table.

i had a really, really good catch-up call yesterday afternoon with a former mentee i worked closely with for a few years in my last job. i thought she was probably reaching out to ask about a letter of rec or something but it turned out that she actually just wanted to tell me about how this project she started years ago with me has continued to grow/evolve and has led to these pretty major institutional changes around making caste a protected class at our university. she was just like, ‘i’ve been thinking about you so much all year because everything we’ve been doing is rooted in the research ethos you taught me in that program. and then it just occurred to me that instead of just thinking about you i could reach out to tell you about how much you shaped this work.’ it was just so good to hear from her and so amazing to hear about this stuff she and her co-organizers have been able to achieve in the last couple years!! it made me feel really good/happy (for her but also obviously it’s just nice when people say nice things about your teaching impact!) and i also feel like it kinda lit a fire under me a little bit... like this past year has been so isolating and i think one thing i’ve missed is the way that students’ passionate commitments push YOU to be more engaged in your own life/community and more awake in your own life. i feel like this student in particular always pushed me to be more honest you know... she’s one of those people who is continuously pursuing difficult, important work because she believes it’s the right thing to do and she knows she has the skillset to do it. so i just want to hold onto that feeling you know... like as i begin to become more involved in the life of a campus community again and more connected to students i just want to keep pushing myself out of this period of isolation and into the world to do meaningful work.

#teaching #personal

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devircy · 2 years ago

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New Habits and Coffee KidLaw

Request: Softest rendition physically possible of Kidd attempting to make coffee for Law in the morning. He knows that Law needs it and sneakily wakes up earlier just to make it, but it's an absolute disaster. Like the worst coffee known to man, and from there I want to know how you'd make Law react. But it has to be the fluffiest thing ever by the end.

1.3k Words

Law was a continual creature of habit, the surest way to piss him off was to mess it up. Anyone who worked with Law much less knew him understood this. No surprises, no changes, no irregularities. So an explanation as to why something in his perfected schedule had changed could probably be summed up with some neurotransmitter misfiring not that its cause really mattered to Law.

Sleep cleared from his vision as a cup was thrust before him, it took a second for his eyes to adjust. The aroma was twinged traces of coffee and burnt beans. His mouth opened and closed no less than three times, expression shifting each time he did. A roll of his neck released the joints in a blissful crack as Law chose his next words carefully.

“Eustass-ya?” Sleep gripped his voice still, forcing the name to sound as if a lover's whisper.

“I know you don’t like shifts in your routine,” The somehow perky redhead began still holding the mystery liquid between his painted nails. Law's brow shot up as if to say ‘then why did you do it?’. “However you always leave the house at 4 am in a rush to the hospital, I thought for once I could help.”

“Help,” Law mumbled to himself as if the word was foreign, letting it roll around in his mouth. His hands dragged down his face rubbing at his eyes with a sigh. If he was going to sanely approach the situation he needed coffee, or whatever substance close to coffee was in that cup. His hands lifted from the mattress to remove the mug from Eustass’s grasp. Neither of them said anything as Law brought the cup to his lips. Eustass did his best to pretend he was looking anywhere but at Law and the sip he would be taking. Not that Law was fooled. His lips parted and the dark liquid rushed past. If the past 15 years of being a doctor had taught him anything it was how to keep his face perfectly schooled into indifference.

“Eustass-ya will you grab me my glasses,” The words came out in a neutral tone a contrast to the rancid flavor coating every crevice of his mouth. Law added a squint for good measure even though his eyesight was not that bad. It really was not. He could see every flex of the redhead's abdomen, one that Michelangelo would seek to discover in his stones. The flash of red hair that trailed below into the low-hanging grey sweatpants, the ones that hid nothing from view. “ Since you desire to help.”

“Yeah, where are they?” There it was that grin, the one that forced Law to avert his gaze. Eustass was shameless and immensely enjoyed when Law sidetracked himself with one glimpse at his figure.

“Should be on the desk in my office downstairs.” The “coffee” caught in his throat again as he attempted to swallow it until Eustass was out of his sight. A mission to retrieve the glasses that sat on the nightstand beside him currently. Sliding from under the sheets Law beelined for their bathroom, careful to mimic the sound of piss with his pouring of the drink into the toilet. Prior to Eustass’s return with the claim that he could not find them, Law was already dressed in his scrubs and ready to vanish through the door.

The cup was there again in his face the next morning. He would admit he enjoyed waking up to his lovers voice coaxing him out of his dreams over the scream of his usual alarms. The cup however was not a welcome site.

“Eustass-ya I think I can make my own coffee,” Law spoke his words sounding nothing more than a tired slur before he even sat up.

“Just try it,” There was an almost desperation to his words as the mattress dipped next to him. A warm body situated itself near his hips and the cup, of course, remained. “Please?”

“Yeah hand it here,” Please, what an infernal word. A word Eustass scarcely used unless something was deemed worthy enough. Law's eyes fixed themselves on the cup again. The aroma was already daring him to take a sip. It was earthy yet spicy, not one of the usual blends Law had for the machine. Eustass did not hide his attentions this time instead he watched as Laws's eyes drifted closed simply breathing in the scent. As if eager his tongue darted out swiping at his lips jealous of the attention going only to his sense of smell. He brought it to his lips and sighed with the flavor that washed over his tongue. This. This was something he could get used to.

“What changed?” Law asked in between downing the rest of the mug.

“Sanji gave me a pointer or two.” What Eustass failed to mention was he had bought a new coffee machine, beans, mugs, filters, and anything else that a proper barista would have. Not that he would call himself that.

“Would you make it for me again tomorrow?” There was an uncertainty in Law’s voice as he spoke, monitoring Eustass’s reaction. All he saw was joy as the redhead removed the cup from Law’s hands and captured his lips with his own.

“I will make it for you every day if you would like.” Each word was spoken between kisses in a shared breath.

“I would,” Was Law's only answer, and Eustass had never been so thankful. “This too.”

Recapturing his coffee-stained lips was his answer and Law hummed his approval. Law was running late per his schedule but this time he was certain he had perfected it.

Short dialogue between Sanji and Eustass:

“Sanji please, I'll pay for lessons or whatever just teach me how to make coffee.” The redhead had practically stormed into the French chef's kitchen unwilling to wait for him outside. Urgency filling his voice entertained Sanji to a certain degree, though he almost didn’t believe this was Law's lover.

“I never thought I would see the day.” Groveling and bargaining someone had taught him well. Smoke fell lazily from his lips prior to the words that followed. “But yes I can teach you. What do you have to make it.”

“I don’t know some machine.” Eustass could not lie he had no clue, he had pressed buttons and it ‘worked’.

“You are in luck since I am off for the afternoon.” The kitchen was left behind as Sanji drove, wind danced through the windows as he let his free arm rest outside of the car. “Why the sudden interest in coffee making? New job or something?”

“No, I attempted to change something in Law’s schedule.” Even Sanji cringed as the words left the redhead's mouth.

“I assume it ended badly?” His eyes stayed glued to the road as if he could remove the attention on Eustass, a tactic he learned usually made people open up more.

“If by bad you mean he made me go look for his glasses which were on his nightstand so he could pretend to drink it and pour it down the toilet.” Defeat coated the words as if unredeemable.

“You are lucky.” Blue eyes shifted catching the orange irises for the briefest of seconds.

“What do you mean?” Confusion was evident in his question as Sanji observed him again.

“Law never withdrawals his opinions. I assume he didn’t even make a comment about the coffee before he left. And he took the change in schedule pretty well. For all the years since middle school that Law and I have been friends he has never once let any of this slide, for any reason.” The rest of the day Eustass listened, and attempted, bought, and wrote down whatever Sanji instructed of him. He would not fail again.

#KidLaw #kidlaw fanfiction #kidlaw fanfic #kidlaw prompts #my writing #Law and Sanji would be best friends #I have such a hard time writing fluff #Modern au #modern kidlaw #Worst cup of coffee ever created #I take requests

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