#PROMISE IM GOING TO TRY TO FINISH THIS TRUST

[ynsvnte]

What do we think everyone? (It’s a Drabble)

[randomwriteronline]

"Do you have rice at home?"

What a weird question. Emmet turned to Briosa and nodded, an eyebrow crooked up to make a confused expression.

Why?, he signed.

She shrugged over the back of her seat: "You know," she replied vaguely, not answering, and added: "Do you have butter, shredded cheese?"

Emmet nodded again, more puzzled.

"Mushrooms?"

He shook his head. She clicked her tongue.

"Zucchini?"

That he did have, yes.

Briosa hummed loudly.

"Do you have broth cubes?" she asked. Her hand rose from beneath her chin and made a gesture as if holding something small between her index and thumb: "Like the uh, the ones that you put in boiling water and it makes stock broth?"

Did he have those?

He shook his head, struggling to find the right signs: Broth... Powder.

"Oh, that's still fine."

You... Need? Thing?, he asked. The vagueness was tiring him out more than the already long day had.

Briosa hummed for a long while.

"Are you hungry?" she didn't answer.

Emmet raised a hand to give an exhausted half-half gesture.

"Same," she replied - which was strange, because according to Briosa she was never hungry. She turned off the last computer still on: "Let's go."

Home sounded awful. Home sounded empty and soulless. Home sounded like Crustle yelling because he had missed feeding time by 1 minute and already trying to rip open the food cabinet to forcefully get his supper like a big cement baby, and that did make him chuckle a little and give him the strength to be on his way.

His head pulsed a bit. Mawile must have been as tired as him, because Briosa held her in her arms like a little kid as they walked down the street at a pace that was clearly not up to the shorter man's standards.

Emmet yawned. Goodness. So tired.

Briosa skipped a little at his side.

"There's some foods you absolutely cannot eat at dinner," she began unprompted, but her squeaky voice was a welcome distraction from the noisy quiet, "Not because there's some actual rule - technically there is but I call bullshit on that, it's all food - but because they're so heavy on the stomach that if you do eat them you'll be dreaming of green Raticate and pink Donphants like you got five shots of ketamine before bed."

His head snapped to face her with eyes wide from vague concern.

"I don't actually know if that's what ketamine does, I've never had it," she added, oblivious to his look.

"That's not how you pronounce that," Emmet managed to deadpan.

Mawile translated him sleepily.

Briosa turned to face him, the corners of her otherwise perfectly straight mouth pointed downwards and her forehead creased in puzzlement: "Pronounce what?"

"Ketamine," he replied - the last syllable making a 'meen' sound.

"Ketamine?" she repeated - the last sillable making a 'mine' sound, like the possessive pronoun or the place where miners work.

"Keh-tah-meen," he sounded out carefully so that she could easily read his lips.

Her brows furrowed over her crooked nose: "Ketameen?" she said correctly with a tinge of disgust. Being treated with a nod, she scoffed: "That sounds stupid. It's not a 'meen'-ending word, it sounds too stupid. It could be if it ended in 'a' but otherwise it sounds way too silly for me. I'm gonna keep calling it ketamine."

"That's wrong."

"Well, it sounds better."

Whatever makes her happy.

Emmet blinked heavily.

"Why are we talking about ketamine?" he muttered. The streetlights were too bright.

"We aren't," Briosa replied as soon as Mawile had translated him in sign. "I'm just trying to keep you awake and you derailed the conversation with what is the right way to pronounce ketamine."

"I am awake," he mumbled back.

"Are you?"

He showed her his tongue - immediately covering it with his hand. An awfully unprofessional thing to do: Briosa wasn't Elesa, even though her name ended with the same syllable, and as far as he knew they weren't quite considerable friends.

How had he even thought of confusing them enough for a mistake in etiquette like that? They were nothing alike, in looks and sound.

The substitute didn’t seem that bothered, proceding without a care: “Is it ok if I ask you for some food for my lads while I’m at yours? I’ll pay you back. It’s just because otherwise they’re gonna eat at 2 AM.”

Emmet nodded without really paying attention; only when the words swam from his ears into his brain and began being digested did he narrow his eyes and stop right where he stood.

He turned and looked behind himself.

Briosa only noticed his sudden stillness after a dozen or so steps, when Mawile pointed her back to the flabbergasted man in the middle of the street.

“You good?” she asked.

He pointed to the direction from which they had come silently, in deep thought. He blinked, then finally turned back to her.

“This isn’t the way to your house,” he noted.

“It’s not.”

The matter-of-fact tone didn't help.

"Why aren't you? On the way home?"

"I'm following you."

"Why are you following me?"

"I'm going to your house."

"You're coming to my house?"

"I'm coming to your house."

"Why are you coming to your- my house?"

"To cook you rice with zucchini."

"Why?"

"For dinner."

Emmet took a moment to pause and ruminate on all that.

"Did we agree on, on that? That you were... Coming to my house to cook?" he asked, because he genuinely didn't remember if they had.

"No."

Ah. Made sense.

A slow roundhouse kick that was probably meant as gentle (and while it did not send him hurtling across the street, it was still imbued with a discreet amount of strength that made him wobble on his unsteady knees) hit him with the back of the foot square in the ass and propelled him forward a little bit.

"Come on, let's go," the man (when had she gotten back at his side?) egged him on, much like a father dragging his noisy tired child out of the supermarket by an arm with as much vague kindness as possible: "You're sleeping on your feet like a Rapidash and you need to get some food in you."

He was too tired to complain or make a comment about that first part, and could not argue with the second.

He was really hungry.

Excadrill seemed perplexed when Briosa snuck under his arm as soon as the door was opened and made a beeline towards the kitchen, but Emmet just waved a hand, letting her know all was fine.

“She’s helping,” he told her with a yawn: “Said she’ll make dinner.”

The Steel mole looked back at the room the small vaguely antropomorphized Electrode had disappeared inside of, not very certain whether or not leaving someone like that in the vicinity of gas outlets, fire, sharpened blades and various more or less dangerous tools at her whims’ disposal; but she did consider, turning once more to the man trying to slip his shoes off while Archeops was nibbling at his wrist to shake him out of his tardiness, that was a risk she was willing to take if it meant her ward would eat before collapsing into uneasy sleep.

Footsteps stampeded heavily all the way back out of the kitchen, and Briosa appeared from the doorframe.

"I don't know where anything is," she said very flatly.

The light that came from the room hit the side of her frame, almost painting a yellow line where it landed, making her look something akin to incomprehensible in the dim sorroundings.

Emmet managed to blink slowly.

"I did find the refrigerated foods and knife and the tap water," she continued as if to reassure him she wasn't a complete cretin, "But I don't know where anything else is and I thought maybe I shouldn't slam open all the cabinets of some house that's not mine to find the rice jar."

Her boss raised a finger in the air to ask her to wait a moment; he stood slowly, heavily, and wobbled on his socked feet over to her.

He didn't have a rice jar, but he did have a box of rice, as well as a rice cooker. He provided Briosa with a pot, some oil and a plate at her request: she struggled to pour the grains into her small palm six, eight times, each fistiful dropped in the plate, cursing softly in what seemed like gibberish, and he watched her absolutely transfixed by the motion and sound similar to rain.

Something vaguely pinchy pulling at his leg snapped him out of it.

"Durant," he assumed as he croaked without looking, leaning down a big to pet lightly something vaguely metallic but not at all like his Bug's carapace, "I'll get dinner. Hold on."

A tongue clicked loudly while he reached for the pantry under the silverware that held the Pokémon food, and a large blackish mass delicately helped him get the bags out. Mawile's large mouth was a little clumsy, since the stem connecting it to the back of her head was quite thin, so Emmet ended up reciprocating her help to save her some of the strain.

Above himself he could hear the gas sparking into fire on the stove.

He nudged Briosa with an elbow to get her attention while remaining crouched - it was a little surreal to be looking up at her as he signed: Zucchini?

"Water," she replied. "I need to boil it. Also I think we forgot the broth powder."

Why boil?

"For the rice."

Sitting on his knees so he could peek over the counter, he pointed at the rice cooker; she looked at it, then turned back to him with a completely blank expression.

Rice cooker, he explained.

"Ah," she replied, and made no motion towards it.

For cooking rice, he continued.

"Yeah, I figured." Briosa checked around the station for a moment more: "Hm, yep, we missed the broth powder."

His brows furrowed: Why powder?

"For the rice. You gotta boil the rice in broth to cook it."

Emmet blinked: Rice cooker, he repeated.

Briosa blinked: "Hm," she noted.

Her boss pointed back to the utensil.

Use rice cooker.

"I don't know how to use that."

I teach you.

"That's gonna take longer than just letting me boil the rice," she waved her hand, her stoat fingers grazing his nose with a certain resolution to the movement that told him not to worry: "I know what I'm doing. You do what you gotta and try not to fall asleep. If you need me to do something or you gotta tell me something just punt your elbow on my shoulder."

Might hurt.

Briosa smiled, toothy grin not nearly as terrifying as usual: "You're a wet noodle when fully awake," she laughed, sounding like a repeatedly squeezed rubber Ducklett: "You won't hurt me."

Then she turned to wash the zucchini a bit in the sink, humming something. Mawile slowly dragged a bag out of the kitchen, struggling a bit; Emmet carefully placed the powdered broth next to the stove where it could be easily seen and raised the other end of the heavy sack to help the little Fairy bring it all the way over to the livingroom, others following behind them in mid air, held floating in the air by Chandelure's helpful Psychic - to keep it away from Crustle’s impatient grabby claws as well.

It took him a hot moment to realize he would have needed seven more bowls (the other twelve already fetched by their respective owners, thankfully); he then also realized that other than Mawile, the six guests were not actually there.

Briosa was chopping a zucchini very slowly and heavily when he came in to ask her for her team, which sat in their Pokéballs on their counter a little closer to the kitchen door. Emmet saw it fit to collect them without bothering her, noting distractedly that she seemed to be singing and deciding, against his will, to listen in.

“... Amministra-zio-ne, e liquida-zio-ne, rateizza-zio-ni anti-previden-zial - misura came-ra-le, calcolo dell’IR-PES, scarico dell’I-VA, misura cata-stal...”

The tempo of her chopping increased to a horrendous degree immediately after as she vocalized quietly; Emmet watched her cut through the vegetable with admirable technique and fury for a moment more before deciding he did not want to have her turn around a little too fast and get that blade flying right in his eye socket, and went right back to the livingroom where his brother’s Bug was starting to scream his little bulbous eyes off in hunger.

Knowing full well how big, bulky, destructive and aggressive ‘the lads’ could be in battle, he was somewhat surprised to see their politeness outside of their Pokéball when he first released them. Their sizes did cause bit of a stirrup, especially among those who hadn't seen them before, and Emolga's heavily deformed scarred grin certainly did not put anybody at ease - but Seismitoad croaked very gently, as a kind greeting, and Bisharp bowed in an incredibly courteous manner; Klinklang did seem a little more than uneasy at the sight of Heatmor, trying to scoot behind Excadrill and to drag the much more relaxed Durant with it, but the Fire type seemed just as scared of the hunk of metal as he hid behind the only lady of the team.

Speaking of Conkeldurr - the poor girl was trying her hardest to shrink in her shoulders as soon as she noticed where she was, eyeing co-workers and new curious faces with a sheepish kind of apprehension, large rough hands playing with one another.

"Hello," Emmet welcomed them too tired to stop Boldore from running into the newcomers repeatedly. "I live here. You eat here tonight."

Cryogonal made a horrifying sound not too far from Candelure' worst cough.

He gave her a thumbs up: "Yes."

It struck him very suddenly that roughly three out of six out of Briosa’s team effectively could have been considered full ass human people by size, and that while one of them was indeed an enormous bulbous frog he should have probably just let Conkeldurr and Bisharp sit on the couch.

It also struck him that Cryogonal (from whom Haxorus was inching away) was a pure Ice type.

“We don’t...” he muttered, turning around to check on the bags. He stared at them for a second or so before remembering the rest of his thought: “Have Ice type food. Food for Ice types. Uh...”

Mawile’s little hands moved quickly to tell him something.

He blinked a couple times, trying to understand before giving in, pointing at his hand: “I cannot - three finger sign, I’m not. Fluent.”

The little Steel Fairy nodded apologetically and chittered as she repeated, slower so that he could try the signs out himself to properly translate them: No problem. C eat nothing or anything. C eat wood if want. No worry.

The chittering was probably so that Cryogonal could listen in herself and assure Emmet of the veracity of the statement with another ghastly shriek.

Which she did.

That got her another thumbs up.

It took a while, to properly get everybody their bowl of dinner, and he had to be helped a couple of times - mostly by Mawile, who seemed the most well-versed in reading written symbols.

He was so, so tired.

In the end they had managed to split the food around more or less evenly: both Durant and Excadrill had graciously declined the portion of Steel-specific food that should have been mixed with their other ones so that Bisharp and Mawile could have it, since they had nothing for Dark or Fairy types, and Emolga was more than fine getting only Flying-specific (Archeops wasn’t necessarily keen on that, but very wisely had not argued with the rat that looked like he had been through a shredder and survived) since Eelektross’ size demanded quite a bowl for him; Seismitoad had at one point striked up a conversation with his fellow Ground type regarding, Emmet imagined, which types of dirt tasted better, whereas Heatmor was still snout-deep in his can of beans, apparently eating them one at a time to better savor them, as normal Fire-specific food didn’t account for his digestive troubles.

Even Cryogonal had managed to snack around without causing an excess in panic. Gurdurr seemed to be the only one a little embarassed, glancing every now and then to the much bigger Fighting type in the same manner an elementary-schooler glances at a substitute teacher he may or may not have a puppy crush on.

It was relatively quiet, in the end. A lot of crunching and munching, and unintelligible words, but it was quiet.

Emmet shook himself a little when small teeth gently bit down on his arm: Mawile looked up at him with a slight concern, her little hands pulling at his pants to make him sit down properly instead of squatting on his toes.

“Hm?” he asked her - or, well, tried to - as he felt his head strangely light.

The Fairy insisted he take a seat first before explaining: No sleep yet! Rice not ready. Ready soon. Stay awake.

“I am Emmet. I am awake.”

Before no.

“Yes I was.”

Mawile pointed at Boldore: Called you, she explained. Food stolen. You asleep! No answer. Crab say shut up.

At that, he looked up to the three Bugs.

Durant and Galvantula both followed his gaze: Crustle turned his bulbous eyes in two completely different directions to try and feign ignorance.

That clearly did not work, as a perfectly straight finger pointed right at him.

“Bad boy.” his trainer’s brother decreted. Crustle (who by law knew any word he could have said could have been used against him) chirped out an indignated whine in protest. “No. Give Boldore some of yours.”

Bugs cannot quite huff, though the crustacean definitely did try; with no other option, he haughtily shoved what still remained in his bowl to the block of rock he had stolen the lunch from in the first place, who made a crumbling sound similar to a piqued ‘thank you’ and very slowly helped himself to the rest of his supper while the other retreated in his cement house as though he were the offended party here.

Well, that was solved.

Emmet rubbed one eye with his hand to shake the sleep dust off of it.

A three-fingered paw pulled at his shirt again: “I am awake,” he reassured Mawile, “I am not falling asleep.”

She did not particularly care about his blatant lies at the moment - not as much as she cared about getting him off the floor, at least, as evidenced by how she tried to pull him onto the couch despite her obvious size disadvantage. Bisharp, noting her struggle, quickly put aside his own bowl and rose to his feet, metal arms outstretched to catch the man in them.

“No thanks,” Emmet stopped him. “Can do it myself.”

Alright, he thought, time to stand up.

After a whole minute he had not moved an inch.

Bisharp, with as extreme a tenderness as a creature composed partially by sawblades could muster, gently slipped his hands under Emmet’s arms, lifted him into the air as one might lift a cat, and sat him on the couch.

“Thanks.” the human peeped.

Seeing the Dark type bow a little in response while Archeops blatantly laughed at him gave him some weird new kind of mortification to feel.

Maybe if he focused on the incomprehensible sounds somewhat reminscent of words coming from the kitchen, he would manage to trick himself into not thinking about having had to be picked up like a bag of cement because his joints didn’t respond.

From the door connecting the two rooms he could see Briosa perfectly still before the stove: a vacant look seemed to dwell in her eyes as her lips moved quickly, and perhaps most concerningly she was holding a kitchen knife in her right hand, bits and pieces of zucchini still stuck to the blade, with a grip that could have concievably crushed a piece of wood into shavings or caused a small enough pumpkin to explode under the pressure.

Not a very reassuring sight.

But it did immediately cancel his embarassment.

“... E il carica-to-re svuo-te-rà, sul-le aliquote della-li-bertà...”

Very suddenly, she began banging her fists against her hips in asynchrony, large knife very much still grasped tight in her palm, as if her body was a drumset and she were playing it after getting a dose of pure sugar injected in her veins.

“Ed il so-cio scompa-ri-rà, sul-le aliquote della-li-bertà...” she continued unperturbed by neither her own choreography nor the possibility of accidentally stabbing herself for that matter.

The rest of the chorus turned a little garbled from her furious headbanging, the movement so violent and so spread out through her entire frame (her torso and pelvis were oscillating in tandem back and forth to lend more strength to the motion, making her look a little like one of those bird-shaped toys that are constantly quickly dipping their beaks in the water, rising out of it, then diving back in for another sip) that it made him fear for a moment she would slam her head on the counter and either knock herself out or destroy it completely, with a higher chance of the latter.

Emmet turned back to Mawile, who had climbed the couch to sit next to him.

“She is always like this?”

She followed his finger with her gaze as he pointed to the kitchen.

Then she nodded.

“Man.”

No like silence, the Fairy explained.

"Aaah. So she talks."

The little beast waited a moment, then waved a hand in the air in a sort-of-yes-sort-of-no kind of gesture: Talk, no really. No hear voice. Feel mouth move, remember how voice sound. But no hear.

Emmet tilted his head: "She can't hear her own voice?"

Mawile nodded.

He clicked his tongue in thoughtful aknowledgement and blinked.

That was such a weird concept, not being able to hear yourself. It was the sort of obvious thing one never ponders on at all: so he had always assumed she could, without really thinking about it enough to question whether or not that was possible. And even if he had found himself reflecting on it in a sudden burst of curiosity, he would have probably still rationalized that she could, maybe by feeling the vibrations in her neck as she spoke.

But that would have meant keeping her hands on her throat all the time, he reasoned, and it would have been really bothersome for someone as prone to action as she was.

He wondered, suddenly, if she knew how squeaky she sounded.

Probably not.

"Could she hear herself?" he asked. "Somehow?"

Yes!, Mawile nodded enthusiastically.

Emmet blinked again. From what she had told him, he hadn't expected that could have been a possibility.

Headphone! Microphone!, the Fairy continued without needing any prompting. Ear implant! But no wear for long. Hurt ear. Or yell!

"Yell?"

If loud enough! Like before!

Did that mean she had been yelling?

This whole time?

Oh, Emmet suddenly thought: yes, actually, she must have been. The kitchen was a room that in some strange way never let any noise escape it; no matter how much the oil could have sizzled or how agonizingly the blender could have screamed, their agony remained hushed into silence between those walls. It was very nice, by all means - he still remembered having to retreat in his closet to escape the noise of his uncle in the kitchen so it couldn’t make him feel like there were Stunfisks flapping around in his veins - but it brought along the slight side-effect that if they had to set a timer that wasn't the oven's (which turned the machine off as soon as it was done) they would have to put it in the livingroom, or they'd never hear it.

For him to be able to listen to her, Briosa must have been belting the hell out of her incomprehensible song like tomorrow wasn't planning on being a thing.

“Verrry loud,” he commented, slowly.

Mawile nodded, whirring her tongue to imitate him as she signed: Verrry loud.

Some minor inconvenience must have happened, because Briosa shouted something irritated, possibly profanity of some kind.

Emmet leaned his head on the back pillows.

Now she was singing again.

“Al-me-no-fi-no-a-do-mat-ti-na-ti-pro-me - tto-che, sarò la fa-ccia, di-cui-hai-più bisogno...”

This one was much calmer. More melodic. The way she pronounced the words had a strange cadence, quick yet slow - it was hard to explain. He blinked, feeling drowsy all the way into his marrow.

“Me-glio-non-di-re-nien-te-aspet-tando-il-mat-ti-no, sor-rido, se-pen-so-al-no-me-che-tu mi-darai do-ma-ni...”

Huh. This verse had a completely different rhythm. Weird.

Maybe the author was part of some avantgarde musical genre he didn’t know.

He felt something lukewarm pulling his forehead back and realized his eyes were closed. When had that happened? Chandelure chimed at him something that sounded like ‘don’t fall asleep yet, you still have to eat’.

Ah.

So it wasn’t the song’s fault for having different-sounding verses.

He mouthed that he wasn’t asleep, voice barely leaving his mouth. He hadn’t even noticed he’d dozed off.

“... che, orati-mangida-den, tro, piccolo-pianeta-spen, to, come-una bri-ciolaal-ven-toe-un-bu-co-ne-roe-un-oc-chio-blu,” Briosa was continuing.

He wondered how much of it he’d missed.

“E, so-no-po-co-più-di-un-jamais-vu, tra tutte queste persone, nella-mia-testa-io-gioco-a-tabù, perdo-se-dico-il tuo no - me...”

A pinch at his leg.

Ow, he murmured, furrowing his brow; Durant chittered worriedly at him, nudging him to spur him into action. His eyelids felt horribly sandy against his sclera as he rubbed them with as much vigor as possible to shake any tiredness away.

He was not tired. He was not sleeping.

His knees popped when he straightened them to tense his legs.

He was not about to fall into a nap again.

“Io ti terrò la mano, tu tienimi l’anima...”

He bent down to grasp his feet.

“E pure se non sai chi sono non lasciarla mai...”

Maybe, if he went to check on Briosa, he would avoid knocking himself out on the couch for the next five hours.

He stood as though he were made of lead.

Following her saccharine voice, he slowly began wobbling towards the kitchen.

“Ve - di, ci sono, dei-ri, cordi, che-mi de - vi, sei grande, ma-ti, chiamo-an, cora ba - by,” (oh, a word he recognized) “Ho gl’occhi rossi ma non te ne accorgi, ti guardo mentre dormi, ma solo ieri-”

Her nose stuck out so much when you looked at her from the side. It jutted out from her forehead out of nowhere, somewhere a little above her eyes and almost right below her eyebrows, and then it came right down like a straight wall. It wasn’t perfectly straight, because there was a dent where it had likely been broken and incorrectly healed; so more than a wall it was like a waterfall interrupted in the middle by a rock. Despite the contrast with the rest of her more graceful features, it fit everything about her like a glove. Emmet’s nose showed no signs of harm and pointed outwards instead, like half the head of an arrow. What weird things to notice in the split second between two verses of a hook.

“-C’e-ri, nei giorni ne-ri, quelli che piove troppo fo-rte per stare in pie-di,” she sang: “E fottevamo anche la morte volando legge-ri, m’hai chiesto dimmi cosa te-mi, in che cosa cre-di, la mia risposta sei tu.”

She hummed loudly, thin lips pursed tight, tilting her head with the melody.

“La mia risposta sei tu...” she repeated while stirring the mass of rice in what little broth was left.

Emmet stared.

She had a nice voice.

When she turned to the door - maybe to call for him - she had a startle and flattened herself closer to the floor, little eyes blown wide and hand grasping the counter. She looked like she had a heart attack.

They simply stared at each other for a moment, before Emmet remembered she couldn’t have heard him come in and likely had shat her pants.

Whoops.

Briosa was quicker: “Hello!” she grinned apologetically. “I was really really loud, wasn’t I.”

Her boss shook his head, smiling back: No problem. You sing nice.

Expression losing any mortification, she flipped her wooden spoon to tap her chin with it a few times as though she were thanking a deeply captivated audience - giving a ‘youch’ and a ‘porca puttana bastarda’ when the heat carried by the utensil scalded her a little.

He wasn’t sure what that second thing meant, but it made him chuckle.

Briosa turned back to the pot and twisted her mouth: “Ok, since it’s almost ready, do you want me to put...” she rocked in place for a moment, hand waving a little, “A sensible person’s idea of a good amount of cheese and butter, or my idea of a good amount of cheese and butter?”

Second, he signed.

“Gotcha.” and she got her big knife back in hand and grabbed the brick of definitely softer butter like she was going to squeeze it between her fingers and annihilate it completely: “Drown it in dairy it is.”

Emmet wheezed weakly.

He fetched a couple plates and forks to set on the table, slowly, so slowly. By the time he found the glasses and started checking for a bottle that still had some water before pikcing one and putting in the sink to fill it, the rice had completely dried up, and Briosa was stirring it with butter and shredded cheese with such a focused gaze and furiously quick hand that an inattentive onlooker might have thought she was busy making merengues instead.

(They had tried exactly once, and in the end they’d both ended up with aching wrists and a bunch of half whipped egg clears despite their best efforts. In the end they had made sweet white omelettes that weren’t as bad as they could have turned out to be.)

“You wanna lick the spoon?”

Before he could even register the question he had already clamped the wooden utensil in his mouth.

Clearly the correct course of action: that tasted great.

Must have been all the cheese.

Now he was salivating.

“This’ll kill you,” Briosa assured him with a calm tone. “If you’re not gonna be sleeping after this I might have to punch a hole in your head.”

He gave her thumbs up. A good last meal either way.

They ate in silence, fairly quickly. Had he really not noticed how hungry he was up until now? Dragons. He shouldn’t skip meals. But maybe it was just because this rice specifically tasted so good. Why, he couldn’t really tell. It was just rice and zucchini. Drowned in dairy, but still rice and zucchini. It wasn’t even that hard to make. He probably could have made it on his own.

Maybe it was because he’d fasted the whole day.

He stood and fetched a second portion. Briosa was eyeing the pot like a Braviary waiting for the right moment to strike a Basculin.

When he motioned for her to hand him her plate she shook her head: “I’m not hungry,” she claimed, though he never quite believed her when she said that, even when she sounded so honest - maybe she was trying to convince herself, but as to why he couldn’t tell, “It’s just gluttony. Keep that in a tupper or something, I made a lot for that especially. And!”

Her index waved a little in the air, possibly to distract her boss from how she was standing to wash her dish and everything before he might object: “And, when you warm it, do it in a pan. With some oil. Gets all crunchy like popcorn. Good shit, let me tell you.”

Emmet nodded. You know a lot, he signed back once both his hands were free.

“My dad always fries his rice instead of putting it in the microwave.”

I see. It was very good.

She smiled at him weirdly.

“You gotta do it like this,” and she signed ‘very’ back at him - though her index and middle fingers paused for a moment after parting, dipping just a second towards the floor before she finished the sign.

He tilted his head: he’d been fairly sure he’d learned how to sign that correctly. Nevertheless, he imitated her.

“There you go!” she grinned. “It’s too weird when you say it with no gemination.”

Twin?, he asked, even more confused.

She spelled the word quickly: “Gemination - doubling letters in a word to make a longer or stronger sound. Like rubble or throttle or bottle. In this case it’s over-gemination because no letter in ‘very’ is doubled but that doesn’t matter. You geminate it. It doesn’t feel right if you don’t.”

How do you know?

“Know what?”

Gemination.

“Ah. Your mouth.”

He pointed at it, surprised. It likely looked a little comical, since he had taken a rather big bite at that moment.

Briosa smiled a little wider: he watched her clearly mouth the word twice, slowly.

“The eh sound opens it a little wider than the ee sound,” she explained, and mouthed it again. “The R by itself has a shwah sound, a sort of ‘uh’ - that’s really weak, so it gets replaced easily by a different one. If you stall it after an eh sound, the lips remain in a similar position, and you can see how they flatten more once the ee sound comes along.”

He looked more carefully as she repeated the motion once more before gulping down his last forkful and imitating her, trying to feel the sounds on his lips. Huh! That was true. He could tell the different shapes made by the vowels. Curious.

Verrry interesting, he signed. The stalling made her grin. Where did you learn?

“Phonetics class in college I had to take to meet the right amount of credits. I actually chose it mostly because the professor was deaf too, so.”

Emmet clicked his tongue, understanding; Briosa clicked it back in affirmation.

Who knows where they’d picked that up from.

He leaned his strangely heavy head on his crossed arms, splaying himself on the table with a sigh. He felt comfortably warm, at ease; he grumbled a protest when a smaller hand slipped his empty plate and dirty silverware away to wash it in the sink, but didn’t quite manage to coax himself to stand up fast enough to stop her from doing his dishes. He did manage to seize the still half full pot before her, emptying its contents into a glass container and managing to hold onto it long enough to squirt some dishsoap in it - not to clean it, because Briosa twisted his arm behind his back without breaking a sweat (without hurting him either) forcing him to hand it over to her.

You should not clean, he pouted once he had both his hands free again: My house. I’m host. You’re guest. I clean.

“I invited myself over though.”

And cooked.

“And ate also.” and she kicked his hip gently to get him out of the kitchen: “Get your pijamas on while I’m busy, you’re going straight to bed once I’m done.”

You’re not my dad.

She stared directly into his eyes with a face so blank it almost made him laugh.

“Do you want me to adopt you,” she said like it was a threat.

Emmet’s entire body began shaking to contain a giggle. He shook his head.

“Then wash your teeth and put on your jammies.”

He wheezed in her face.

She snorted back.

“But seriously,” she chuckled, “Go get changed. The rice is gonna hit soon and you’re not gonna be able to move a muscle for the next three hours otherwise.”

Alright, fair.

He didn’t notice it, but the Pokémon chatting about in the livingroom were all greatly relieved to see him stumble into his room giggling to himself like a kid.

Flannel felt good on his arms. It was soft, warm, loose... It seemed like forever since he had last worn those pijamas. They were awfully comfortable. He had to make an effort to change into them more often when he came back home. They were much better than a dirty button up and dress pants.

(He hadn’t called before eating. He should have called now.)

(One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. Twenty.)

“If you’re naked stick out your leg!”

The sound of Briosa’s voice shouting from the corridor made him almost throw the Xtransceiver into high heaven, fumbling to catch it so that it didn’t shatter on the floor and hastily closing the call before she could hear the ringing and ask about it.

The fact that she was deaf dawned on him a second too late, but that was done.

(And he hadn’t replied, anyways.)

He settled the gadget on the nightstand, trying to pull himself out of the spiral he’d almost been sucked in; without even thinking he proceeded to stick his leg out through the doorway.

There was a beat of silence; then: “I said naked!”

Emmet cawed out a laugh.

His head peeked through as well. Briosa looked at him, face plain, coat in her arms and hat in hand.

“I thought you’d passed out,” she noted.

Nope, he signed back. Still awake.

“Not for long!”

Sounds evil.

Her brows furrowed: “What’s that mean?”

You sound like you’ll knock me out.

She thought it over a moment before squeaking a chuckle.

It would be verrry easy, he shrugged.

“It would!”

He accompanied her back to the livingroom. The various bags of food had been transported away, the bowls had disappeared back into their cupboard, Crustle still refused to grace the room with his handsome face, and Gurdurr hurriedly scuttled away from Conkeldurr despite having barely come close enough to graze her, deathly embarassed by his crush and round nose redder than usual; Cryogonal shrieked something in his general direction as greeting.

He gave her thumbs up.

“Alright my beautiful death machines,” Briosa called with a tone so affectionate it felt as though her mouth was dripping cotton candy: “We’re goin’ back home! Time for the circus trick.”

She patted her belt a few times, looking for her set of Pokéball. Emmet helpfully pointed them to her from where he’d laid them on the table; Mawile took that as an opportunity to gently bite her shirt as she collected the spheres to rapidly sign something at her and direct her attention over to Heatmor, who was fidgeting rather nervously with his yellow claws.

Once he had her undivided attention, he pulled the sweetest pair of Baby-Doll Eyes he could muster, wiggling demurely as though whining.

Briosa smiled: “Go on, give her a snuggle,” she allowed.

In a second the Fire type wrapped Durant in a tight hug, rubbing his snout on her with a concert of thrilled chirps; the Steel Bug for her part clacked her mandibles rather happily as though to remind him they were going to see each other tomorrow at work anyways.

The beasts who hadn’t visited the station in quite some time eyed the exchange with genuinely dumbfounded gazes.

It probably felt a little like beholding a glitch in nature itself.

A brief whistle tore Heatmor from his friend; he waved her bye one last time before a reddish ray sucked him right back into one of the six balls being juggled by his trainer, followed suit by each of his associates while Mawile latched herself onto her aidee’s elbow.

Emmet followed the trajectory of the flying spheres without trying to keep up with their increasing speed, head heavier than lead lolling back and forth until all six were caught with a fluid graceful motion between the fingers of the Substitute, the little Fairy swinging from her arm leaping onto her head and landing perfectly balanced - thanks to her main maw acting as counterweight - right on her buzzed mousy hair with a little flourish, like an olimpic gymnast.

He weakly waved his hands in a silent applause. Mawile bowed deeply, proud; Briosa curtsied and thanked him by grazing all ten fingertips to her chin.

Must teach me, he signed as he forgot to stifle a yawn.

“Maybe when you’re not falling asleep on your feet.”

Agreed.

Galvantula gently nuzzled her leg.

“Ye, ye, I’m leaving him to y’all now,” she assured the Bug. She saluted the rest of the beasts as she slipped her coat back on hurriedly and helped her aide back down into one of her pockets: “Thank you for not mauling me!”

A chorus of noises she couldn’t hear bid her farewell.

Socked feet accompanied her to the door. Emmet stalled for a moment before opening it; his fingers drummed on the knob under eyes of rotten green waiting patiently for him to send them on their way.

Instead he turned towards her, hands a little sluggish as he signed: Thank you. For rice. And company. Elesa does this, usually. When she can.

“That’s nice to know.” Briosa noted.

Not always. She comes, not always. I mean that. Always nice, when she comes. But doesn’t come always.

“Yeah, I imagined you meant that.”

Sorry. Verrry tired.

“I can see that.”

I am... Bothering?

“Not at all! You just kinda look like you’re melting. You should go sleep.”

Will do.

Briosa smiled. It was the most angular smile he’d seen on her yet, and it fit her like a glove. It made him think like the smile that made Elesa’s eyes too small and her face too round. It was sweet.

“Next time I’ll make you a soup,” she said. “And if I remember them I’ll sing you some songs from old cartoons to keep you awake.”

He liked the idea of a next time.

He gave her an ok; she tilted her hat at him.

“Goodnight.”

Goodnight.

Then he closed the door behind her; tucked his and his brother’s partners to bed; turned off the lights; crawled under the covers.

He slept well.

[orcelito]

Finished reading thru the entirety of the side thing in one go and. Ow. Ow ow ow ow. So many parts of that thing HURT...

I can't WAIT to post it

[milkandraspberry]

[azulpitlane]

british slang I ln4

pairing: lando norris x american!reader summary: pranking lando is the only way he can finally get off his phone notes: hi🧍‍♀️i accidentally disappeared but this semester hit me harder than i expected and im honestly out of ideas so idk what this is masterlist

“Babe what does leng mean?”

“Leng? Why are you asking?” Lando responded confusingly while he scrolled through his phone.

You fought the urge to roll your eyes as you watch him keep his gaze on his screen. It was a bad habit that you quickly picked up on early on your relationship, but now that you were finally living with Lando you were hoping he would spend less time on his phone considering your time together was limited with his constant traveling.

There had been few times you had even caught him messaging his friends, some who were women, while he was suppose to be spending time with you. Though you weren't a very jealous person and trusted Lando more than anything, it didn't sit right with you that he was messaging other girls during your time together. You had brought it up to him a few times where he promised to put it down and spend more time with you. Little liar.

“Some british guy at the gym called me leng this morning.” you replied trying to sound nonchalant.

“What?” Lando finally tore his gaze away from the screen, confusion etched on his face. You fought the urge to smirk as you stared at him acting clueless. “And what did you say?”

“I asked him what that meant and he just laughed and then said I had a nice ‘bunda’?” you revealed, trying your best to keep a straight face.

Lando's brows furrowed in bewilderment. "Are you serious?"

“Yeah, but I figured out what bunda means!” you said excitedly.

“And what does it mean?” Lando asked, now fully engaged in the conversation as he sat fully sat up from his laid back position.

“Accent!” you declared triumphantly.

“Baby, what?” he responded, confusion quickly turned to exasperation. “Why would you think it means accent?”

“Because afterwards he said im ‘so american’ so when he said I had a nice bunda he was referring to my accent.”

Lando pinched the skin between his eyebrows and held back a groan, “Y/n, no. Leng means attractive and bunda means butt. That guy was flirting with you.”

"Oh," you muttered, "then I probably shouldn't have exchanged numbers with him, right?"

"YOUR NUMBER? WHY WOULD YOU-" Lando's voice rose in disbelief, his eyes widening in shock.

"I thought he was just being friendly! I wanted a new gym buddy, and he said he bet he could improve my stamina so I think he wants to give me some workout tips," you explained, barely able to contain your laughter.

"HE SAID WHAT? NO, WHO IS THIS GUY?" Lando's frustration was clear now, his protective instincts kicking in.

"Well, his name was-" Before you could finish, Lando cut you off.

"You know what? You're not going to that gym alone anymore," he declared firmly. You almost let out a scoff feeling as your small prank failed as you watch him pick up his phone again and get back to scrolling as he laid back down on your bed.

You laid down next to him and pretended to be engrossed in your phone, stifling your giggles as you exchanged messages with your friend about your current situation. You ultimately decided to keep the prank going and you could sense his gaze on you, his curiosity evident in the subtle glances he casted your way.

"That guy- you deleted his number, right?" he asked as he looked at you.

"Hm? you feigned innocence, tilting your head slightly to peer at him through the corner of your eye.

"Yeah, the gym guy. You deleted his number?" he pressed, a hint of urgency in his tone.

"Oh, him," you replied nonchalantly, tapping away at your phone with deliberate slowness. "yeah."

He looked at you suspiciously as he fully turned to look at you, "So who are you texting?"

You maintained your facade of innocence, keeping your gaze fixed on your phone screen almost as payback. "Just a friend," you replied casually, your fingers moving across the screen as you kept texting your friend.

Lando's suspicion only seemed to grow as he observed your behavior. "Just a friend, huh?" he echoed, his tone laced with skepticism. "What are you guys talking about?"

You shrugged nonchalantly, pretending to be engrossed in your conversation. "Oh you know, just some fitness tips," you quipped, your voice tinged with amusement.

He gasped loudly and reached for your phone, but you quickly pulled back just in time. "Y/n Y/l/n do not tell me you are even entertaining this guy right now while you lay right next to me."

"Well it's a hobby of yours that I decided to pick up." you replied keeping your phone out of reach.

"I do not do that!"

You raised your eyebrows then casted a glance at his phone that was still on, sitting on his lap. He followed your gaze and scrunched his nose lightly, "Okay maybe I do it sometimes."

You gave him a pointed look and he blinked slowly, "See, now you know how it feels trying to talk to someone who's too busy on their phone." you replied.

Lando's expression softened "Okay, okay, I know it's a problem, but this time I swear I won't do it again." he promised earnestly, his gaze pleading for forgiveness.

You tilted your head and he almost pouted at your lack of response, "I swear it on everything, I swear it on racing! If I do it again, I shall never race again." he declared with a serious face while crossing his heart.

You giggled slightly at his dramatics, 'Alright, alright," you relented, "I'll hold you to it drama queen."

He smiled, his eyes sparkling with mischief, and playfully tackled you back into a laying position. Hovering over you, he pressed gentle kisses all over your face. "Huh, you are better than my phone," he murmured teasingly, his lips brushing against yours.

You grinned up at him and pulled him closer, savoring the closeness and intimacy of the moment. Before you could deepen the kiss, he pulled back and said, "Come on, let's make up for some lost time, we could go down to that new mini golf place."

You pulled him back down and replied, "Or we could stay here and make up for the lack of morning sex today."

His eyes widened slightly at your bluntness, "Yes-yeah-we could- we could do that."

You giggled at his slightly flushed face and connected your lips once again.

"Wait! You still haven't deleted that guy's number." he exclaimed as he pulled back from you.

"Ohhh well he was never real." you replied as you shrugged lightly.

Lando blinked in surprise at your revelation, confusion crossing his features. "What do you mean he wasn't real?" he asked, his tone tinged with curiosity.

You couldn't help but chuckle at his reaction. "I made him up to mess with you," you confessed, a playful smile dancing on your lips.

His expression shifted from confusion to amusement, and then to mock indignation. "You are such a muppet," he exclaimed, squeezing your sides.

"Yeah, yeah." you replied while playfully rolling your eyes. "Now keep kissing me Norris."

"Don't have to ask me twice baby." He grinned before leaning down and capturing your lips together.

more notes: yes i am aware the ending is awful but i wrote this during the suzuka gp and i was stressed enough with that. goodnight. (also just reached 800 followers WOOO thanks guys🥹)

taglist: @greantii @slaycheco @snoopybum @justcewvs @bbygirlqueen @thoughtonlyofyou @heyheyheyggg @sara-2s-world @aquangxl @cherryyfairy @charlsluvvr @darcycaravan @illicitverstappen @laurenhxnry @planetvenus111 @d3kstar @donttttalktome @brune77e @cwiphswmwasohmm @lou-larcher5 @harryspenguin3 @scott-mccall-could-lift-mjolnir @jetblackvheart @swagbirdmagazine @loves-characters @cheeseoflies @onceupona-happilyeverafter-love @princessbetsy123-blog

@taytaythirteen @thirstydach @mxmtewnz @lucasfilms77 @naturallyspontaneous @captain-mega-awesome @jinx53 @marteinthecoolway @lan4cha16 @anedpev @havaneselover08 @paigeworlds @notturlover @justaninchedent @bre99 @living-in-rainbows @lauralarsen @lolwhateverlol @chriss-club @i-wish-this-was-mekristina2709 @harrystylesworld-tpwk @bborra @lauralarsen @ghostisstuff @robotlama19 @tastebaldwin @cherryyfairy @iamapersonwholikesunicorns @thebookbakery @styl1shl1v @sarah-thatstings-ann @astroniii

[agirlwithglam]

Do you ever feel sick and don't feel like doing anything when the day before you told yourself you were going to do a glow up, live always the best ecc..?

yes definitely! unless i'm actually sick and incapable of doing anything, i will at least try. you didn't ask for advice, but here we go anyways. when i feel like that, heres a few things i do:

how to do things when you don't feel like doing them: (from personal experience)

believe that you can do anything. dont roll your eyes at me! dont skip this part either. this is the main point that gets me going every single time. i truly believe that i can do anything, that i am capable of literally anything that i want to achieve. if i want it, i will have it. that is the first mindset you must have when it comes to this.

start small/ make it fun. yes, ofc i said this. if you can't do a full 1 hour workout, do some pushups/squats/lunges and go for a bike ride or a walk with a friend. what i do when im going bike riding with a friend is we go to a mall and buy drinks there! so make it fun! adding friends to whatever you need to do certainly makes it fun. another thing you can do is if you need to read, you can create a cosy spot in your room with scented candles and a little snack and everything and sit and read there. just the idea of it gets me excited!

treat yourself like a project/ robot. now THIS is something that has certainly gotten my some discipline. we as humans have emotions and feelings and moods. sometimes we don't wanna do stuff, and we actually cave into that. if you promised yourself that you would change your life, switch off your emotions and moods. treat yourself like a robot or an "apprentice" that you're training to become the best.

reward yourself! so you can either reward the action (like reading or studying) or the outcome (like finishing a book or getting a high mark on a test). decide what works the best for you. example: you don't wanna study? you can either a) reward yourself for studying with some free time with friends or watching your fav show or b) you can reward your self by the score you get on the test (ex if you got higher than 80%= a certain thing on your wish list, above 90%= a better thing on your wish list, 100%= the thing you've wanted for ages) you don't wanna read? you can either.. a) reward yourself for reading for x amount of minutes or b) you can reward yourself for finishing a book in a certain amount of time.

alter egosss. i know, i mention this quite often, but trust me this actually gives such a burst of emotion! embody someone else/ a different version of you that can best handle the situation. im gonna make a whole post on alter egos soon cus i mention it in a lot of my posts.

EDIT:

Please remember that if ur actually sick or genuinely feeling really low, remember to rest!! Remember to take time to relax and slow down. Take care of yourself honey <3

thats it for now! i hope this helped <3

btw heres a big master-post to how to get things done when you dont want to (not by me)

[newtkive]

shift shenanigans - s1 social media au

note: jus for fun ! may or may not do more parts.

warnings: crude humor, slightly offensive jokes from richie sry

part two

liked by syd_adamu, marcus.brooks11 and 30 others

chefboyardee: my friends! i love my friends! the two on the right more than the left (i’m joking i promise) 😁😁😁😁

see all 8 comments

syd_adamu: brave of you to call him your friend y/n

↳ chefboyardee: boss man carmy save me

↳ syd_adamu: oh.. :///

marcus.brooks11: you did me so dirty, friend.

↳ chefboyardee: love you marcus you look spectacular

↳ marcus.brooks11: don’t start

richietheking: Where am I?

↳ chefboyardee: ya motha

liked by syd_adamu, chefboyardee and 10 others

richietheking: Getting sh$!t done.

see all 8 comments

marcus.brooks11: This is coolllddd.

↳ richietheking: You already know it man.

syd_adamu: this is actually crazy

carmyberzatto: can you show this on instagram? i think you should delete this.

↳ richietheking: Delete your life.

chefboyardee: come down to the beef for a number 6 the occy way 💯 the safest joint on the block 🤑💯we are 🔛🔝

↳ richietheking: Eyyy I know that’s right.

↳ carmyberzatto: please don’t advertise this.

WE HAVE THE BEEF 🥩

[ 8:25 am ]

y/n:

bruh im about to lose it. heads up when you guys get to work.

marcus: that catering order is about to be crazy

DO NOT REPLY: These white boards are stressing me out.

syd: we know, probably giving you ptsd from not finishing high school

DO NOT REPLY: Fuck you I did finish it.

y/n: oh i gotta change ur contact name richie

richie poo: ????? What

y/n: it was ‘DO NOT REPLY’ lols

marcus: valid

syd: real

richie poo: What? Why?! That’s so rude

y/n: cuz you piss me off

and you kept blowing up my phone yesterday

richie poo: You weren’t answering, and we needed help at the cook out.

syd: the one where you poisoned everyone?

richie poo: Fuck off.

y/n: when i’m off work, i’m off work.

marcus: don’t let carmy hear that, y/n

y/n: don’t remind me

syd: he’s trying at least, go easy on him. he really has great ideas

richie poo: You mean you have great ideas in that little notebook

tina: Never trust a broad with a notebook.

syd: hey! i’m just being helpful

y/n: do you guys think my ig post will hurt carmys feelings

marcus: it would make me a little sad if i were him, but i don’t think he cares

y/n: great i’m gonna cry now

syd: i doubt he even saw it y/n it’s fine

richie poo: Check the work chat. Cousin is in a mood.

y/n: oh great

tina: Help us all.

syd: be nice you guys

WORK

[ 9:15 am ]

carmy: Everyone, we have huge catering orders tomorrow to prep for today. Please get here as soon as you can, the earlier you clock in the better. Additionally, please be careful what you post on social media. I don’t want people to get the wrong impression

y/n: yes chef 👨‍🍳

syd: ok sounds good

richie poo: Cool it, Cousin. What’s the issue with the social media

tina: I use FaceBook. That not allowed now??

carmy: Tina, you’re fine. I’m talking about those who post work things on public accounts

marcus: facebook is crazy

richie poo: I can’t go private

y/n: he needs the likes

richie poo: No I’m disabled from doing so. Not sure why

y/n: liar

richie poo: 😑I don’t like you

carmy: Then please don’t post pics of yourself posting up with a gun and an air horn outside of my shop anymore.

marcus: that pic was fire can’t lie

carmy: Well, it’s bad for business.

richie poo: Fine, whatever

y/n: carmy

carmy: What, Y/n?

y/n: is this because of my caption on my post i’m sorry i promise i wasn’t being for real

carmy: I don’t care Y/n.

y/n: is that code for ‘i care a lot and i’m crying in the office right now and that’s why the door is closed’

oh

syd: ? why the oh

y/n: he opened the door and yelled no 🤨 but i think i saw red eyes

carmy: Please get back to work and I’ll comp a meal for you later

y/n: OMG yes chef 😍

richie poo: Inappropriate emojis and you shouldn’t have to incentivize her to work

y/n: shut up acting like HR i’m gonna beat your ass

jealousy is ugly which is why you have that mug on your face

carmy: Stop

y/n: yes chef 👨‍🍳

i heard your giggle tho

richie poo: Again with the schizo episode

syd: you can’t say that richie

richie poo: Oh sorry

[won4kiss]

⋆ ｡⋆୨୧˚— SPIDEY-BOY !

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 spider man! park sunghoon x f!reader genre. fluff. synopsis. in which your boyfriend shows up outside your window at 2:00am injured. 𝑤ord count 𐙚ㅤㅤ 821. 𝑤arnings ‎⸝⸝ not edited, kissing, skin- ship, blood, injuries. ୭ৎ 𝑙una notes��.˚ guys im not ready for romance untold im gonna sob — 𝓵𝗂𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗋𝔂 ᥫ᭡

if you enjoyed reading ‎⸝⸝ please reblog & like !! <3

2:00AM YOUR CLOCK READ, and your room is dimly illuminated only by the soft glow of your desk lamp.

you're hunched over your textbooks, trying to focus on studying for your chem quiz the next day, but your mind keeps wandering to him.

you couldn’t help but worry about sunghoon, your boyfriend, who’s out there somewhere, probably risking his life being the “friendly neighbourhood spider-man.” for the sake of humanity.

it’s a secret sunghoon had trusted you with, which is now a burden you carry together. — more under cut !

you glance at the clock, realizing it’s well past your bedtime.

you let out a deep sigh, stretching your arms, and decide to call it a night.

just as you’re about to get up, you hear a faint tapping at your window.

your heart leaps into your throat, you know that sound all too well.

rushing to the window at the familiar noise, you pull back the curtains to reveal the one and only, sunghoon.

you gasped at the sight of your boyfriend, tears brimming in your eyes.

there he was, leaning heavily against the frame, his suit torn and bloodied.

panic grips you as you quickly open the window and help him inside.

“shit..”

he winced in pain, barely able to stand.

“hoon, what happened?”

you cried, your voice trembling with fear and utter panic.

“i’m sorry, y/n,” he mutters, his voice weak.

“i was careless- that fucking bastard..”

you guide him to the bathroom, your hands shaking as you try to remain calm.

“sit down,” you instruct, your voice firmer than you feel.

he obeys, sinking onto the edge of the bathtub.

you grab the first aid kit from under the sink, your mind racing.

“take off the suit,” you mutter as he giggles until he suddenly winces at the movement of his body.

“if you wanted to see me shirtless, you could’ve told me earlier baby,”

he quickly shrugged off his suit at the sight of your angry glare, you were definitely not happy with him at the moment and trust he knew it!

as you clean his wounds, tears spilled down your cheeks.

sunghoon watches you, his expression filled with guilt and pain at the thought of worrying you and the sight of your tears, which he never wanted to be the cause of.

“baby, i’m so sorry,” he whispers, reaching out to touch intertwine your hand into his.

“i didn’t mean to make you worry.”

your anger flares, and you stop fighting the urge as you lean in, pressing your lips to his in a heated, desperate kiss as if he was going to disappear the second you stop.

he responds, his hand tangling in your hair, but you pull back, glaring at him through your tears.

“you have to be more careful, sunghoon. you can’t keep doing this to me.”

he nods, his eyes filled with regret at his carelessness and worrying you.

“i promise, i’ll be more careful.”

you finish cleaning and bandaging his wounds, your hands still trembling. sunghoon stands up, pulling you into a back hug. his arms wrap around you tightly, his lips brushing against your neck.

“i’m really sorry, baby,” he murmurs between kisses.

“i never wanted to hurt you.”

a giggle escapes your lips despite the situation, and you turn to face him.

“if this happens again, i’ll tell everyone you’re spidey-boy and expose your identity!”

you joke, trying to lighten the mood, and see that adorable smile you’re so in deep in love with.

sunghoon chuckles softly, his eyes softening.

“i guess i’ll have to be extra careful then, don’t want the entire population of south korea to fall in love with me.”

“sure, hoon…”

you both head to the comfort of your bed, exhaustion weighing heavily on you.

as you lie down, sunghoon wraps his arms around you, pulling you close as you nuzzle into his embrace and take in the scent of him.

just as you’re about to drift off to sleep, you hear him whisper,

“i love you, y/n.”

you turn to face him, your heart swelling with emotion, love taking over your emotions.

“take care of yourself, hoonie. if anything happens to you, i don’t know if i could go on.”

your voice breaking as tears fell down your cheeks at the thought.

tears glistened into his eyes, and he leans in to kiss you, his lips lingering on yours.

“i promise, i’ll be careful. i love you too much to let anything happen to me, i want a lifetime with you and have spider babies — ”

you cut him off quickly with a giggle as you kiss him back, the warmth of his embrace chasing away your fears.

as you both fall asleep, tangled together, you know that no matter what villains or evil monsters sunghoon faces, he’ll always be back with you at the end of the day.

in your arms, where he belongs.

© won4kiss 2024

taglist open <3 @luvlyhee @sjyunnsworld @shawnyle @suneng

send an ask or lmk in comments tba ! <3

[jadeddangel]

I saw that u write poly stuff and my mind was inspired, maybe u could write something where adam and lute comfort reader because something happened and even a bit suggestive if u want:))

EEEE IM SO HAPPY I INSPIRED YOU!!

Lute x reader x Adam

"It's gonna be ok, beautiful"

Warnings: None

Art isn't mine and belongs to @.D4gm4rs on twt

The bed was cold even though it seemed like Adam and lute had left hours ago ,although it had only been 30 minutes. It was your day off.. you had finally gotten a break from everything. You were tired of souls coming to you for help for all these things that you couldn't possibly help with. The worst part of all, though was there was this angel that wouldn't leave you alone, he had been pretty much stalking you. He was trying to get you to go on dates to try and get you to hang out with him.

You were hesitant to tell Adam and lute scared Adam would over react and that lute wouldn't leave your side; you can imagine how surprised you were when they just gave you some love and left for work. And so here you were, alone, still laying in bed, you just wanted to sleep and stay here forever..

You must've fallen asleep cause when you woke up it was almost dark. With a sigh, you got up, tugging out of the bedroom and going to the kitchen to get dinner ready. You paused seeing that there was already a bag of food on the counter.. it was your favorite, and it even had your favorite drink.. you heard the tv running in the living room. You smiled and walked to the living room seeing 2 familiar tuffs of brown and white grey hair. You reached over and covered Adam's eyes from behind him. "Guess who?" You snickered a bit. Adam hummed a bit. "Is itttt my pretty girl?" Adam guessed, tilting his head up towards the ceiling so you could see his smile. You giggled and leaned down, giving him a kiss. "mhm.." You hummed against his hips. You pulled away brushing his hair back out of his face, you tilted your head to face lute, "there's my pretty girl" you mused leaning closer to her and giving her an Eskimo kiss before kissing her forehead. Lute smiled a bit. "Hi there, baby.. how was your day?" She asked sweetly. You climbed over the back of the couch to plop in between them. "It was as good as it could get with me sleeping all day" you laughed a bit. Lute played with your hair absent-mindedly while Adam tugged at the baggy pajama pants you were wearing. "You know I really like this color on you but maybe we should just take it off hm?" Adam hummed slowly slithering his hands up your thighs til he was holding onto the waist band of the pants. "Adam I will literally never make you ribs again if you take those off" you said curtly opening your eyes a bit to give him a glare. Adam huffed and pulled his hands away, crossing his arms over his chest and pouting like a toddler. You sighed a bit but decided not to deal with it, "Adam will you get the bag of food? Please? I'll give you head in the morning I promise" you bribed knowing he was going to fight you if you didn't offer. Before you could even finish the word head Adam was already up and grabbing the bag excitedly, "deal!", Adam even went the extra fucking mile and started making your plate for you while watching the movie that was barely getting any attention.

The night was relaxing, you and lute took a bath together cause Adam couldn't be trusted not to start something. Then it was onto dessert, another movie and cuddles. As promised in the morning before work you gave Adam head before he left. And you know what maybe it was good luck cause that day wasn't half bad.

You didnt know what happened(Adam and lute beat the shit out of the guy and talked to your boss about easing up on you) but that didn't matter and as long as everything kept going well it was always gonna be a good day.

[imaginecolby]

prove it || c.b.

summary: after an argument between you, colby promises you that he'll do whatever it takes to get you to forgive him. requested by anonymous.

"i'm so tired of having this conversation with you! if you can't trust me, then we shouldn't even be in this relationship anymore!" you shouted, storming upstairs.

"you don't get to storm away from me in my house!" colby said, following closely behind you.

"well, maybe you should actually listen to me for once, and i won't have to storm off. i don't know how many more times i need to tell you that i don't want you for your clout, or your money. the faster you understand that, then the faster this fight can be over." you took a deep breath before speaking again. "colby, we have been going at this all day. i'm tired of fighting. until you get can get it through your head that i want to be with you, then i can't do this anymore."

you finished packing your things up, and made your way to your car to leave. you half expected colby to come running after you, but when he didn't, you finally let yourself cry. you drove back to your house in silence, letting the tears fall. this was the only thing that you and colby ever fought over, but after the fourth time having this fight, you didn't have it in you to continue to argue over it.

after a quick stop for food, you finally made it home. you sat on the couch, crying as you ate. you really were worried this was gonna be the end of your relationship, but you knew that you couldn't be part of a relationship where someone didn't trust you. you deserved better than that, and you weren't going to continue to put yourself through that.

a few hours passed with no word from colby. you figured you wouldn't hear from him tonight, and forced yourself to try to sleep. unfortunately, that proved to be easier said than done. you tossed and turned all night, mind racing with images of your night replaying in your head.

"god, this sucks." you sighed. you slept for a total of about two hours, and it hit you bad the next day. you moped your way through work, barely talking to anyone, or getting any work done. everyone was trying to get you to open up, and offer some comfort, but you weren't in the mood. you were just trying to get through the next few days, in case this was really the end. once you were finally off of work, you made your way home, and stepped straight into the shower. you sat in the bottom of the tub, letting the warm water massage your muscles, and washing away the stress from the day.

after your shower, you put on some pajamas and moved to the couch, turning on a movie. you rolled your eyes as all of your recommendations were romantic comedies that you were not in the mood for. you ended up turning on an action film that you ended up not paying much attention to. you spaced out as you ate your leftovers, feeling numb. you were all cried out, and now longer knew what to feel.

"god this has been the worst few days." you sighed, turning the tv off. you sat in silence for a while before there was knock on the door. you got up to the answer door, colby standing on your porch.

"hey." he said quietly. you stood there, your arms crossed across your chest, saying nothing. "can we talk?" you turned to move back into your house, colby following closely behind you. you say back on the couch, and he sat on the chair across the living room for you.

"talk about what? just so you can talk down on me some more? you've made it abundantly clear that i don't come from the same world as you and that i don't understand how the industry works." you spat, mimicking his voice. "news flash, i knew that when we met, and i knew that when we got together. you don't need to continue to make me feel bad about it."

"i know, i'm sorry. sometimes i just get too into my head about all this. you're the first real girlfriend ive had since i've been in LA, and im still having trouble figuring this out." he said softly.

"you can't continue using that as an excuse whenever you blow up at me. i understand you're having a hard time figuring this out, but sometimes it feels like you don't understand how badly it hurts when you say things like that to me. it makes me feel like you don't trust me and that you don't want to be with me."

"god, i'm such an idiot. i never want you to feel that way. i love you, and i love everything about us. i never want to make you feel like that i don't care about you, or i don't trust you. i regret that i ever did that to you, and i want to do everything i can to fix this."

"well, an apology is a start. but i need you to prove that you actually believe that and you do trust me."

"i do, and i will. i am so so sorry that i ever made you feel like i didn't want to be with you or that i didn't trsut that you were with me for the right reasons. i love you. i love you more than anything, and i want to be with you." he said, moving to sit next to you.

"i love you too." you said, pulling him into your arms. you hugged him tight and pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

"i'm sorry." he said again, looking up at you. "so so sorry."

"i know. and i accept your apology. and all the future ones i expect from you." you teased.

you and colby spent the rest of the night together, finally feeling better after the last couple of days. you hoped that things would continue to be good for you and colby, and you would stay in a good place for a while. maybe forever.

[berriweb]

Hello, how are you doing? If it’s alright with you, may I request pavitr, miles e-42 and 1016 and Hobie headcanons where their s/o doesn’t contact them for a week and the boys haven’t seen their s/o during that period and no one knows where they went (so pretty much went of the grid) and then one day the reader shows up and turns out, they have become the permanent host for Venom as they are completely compatible with one another and the reader apologies to the boys for not contacting them cause they were scared and had to deal with the whole symbiote thing and Venom didn’t trust the boys

╰┈➤ ❝ i have your best interests in mind ❞

: ̗̀➛ ft. pavitr prabhakar, hobie brown, earth-1610! miles, earth-42! miles

: ̗̀➛ synopsis. reader goes missing after becoming a host for venom and the boys are unaware of this

: ̗̀➛ a/n. okay so im actually madly in love with idea?? many kisses to you for this request anon, hope it’s worth the wait

— PAVITR PRABHAKAR

There would absolutely nothing more devastating to Pavitr than the worry he had when you initially disappeared

He’s a super affectionate boyfriend meaning you two would likely hang 24/7 and if you’re not together then he’s always texting you or randomly calling to check up on you

So from the start when you aren’t at home for him to walk you to school and then don’t show up at school he’s caught off guard, surely you would’ve let him know if you had other plans or were sick like you always did?

He’ll text you that morning asking if everything’s okay and where you’re at, and by noon when he doesn’t get a response he slowly starts losing it

Probably checks his phone every 2 minutes, turns it off and on to see if it’s messed up and he just hadn’t received your message, etc.

By the evening he’s contacted all of your friends and family to see if they knew where you were. When it becomes apparent that none of them know where you’ve gone either is when he starts officially freaking out

Files a missing person’s report that evening and spends the rest of the night swinging around Mumbattan looking around for any sign of your face, to no avail

It only gets worse the next few days, he starts slipping up and focusing more on finding you than any Spider-Man work he normally would’ve been doing, hoping every time that he’ll catch even a glimpse of you

It wasn’t until nearly a week later that he finally got answers, having just finished up helping a woman who’d gotten mugged when he notices someone in a familiar shirt ducking into a nearby alley

The same shirt you were wearing the last time he saw you

There weren’t enough words to describe the relief that washed over Pavitr when he rushed for the alley and saw your face just as you turned your back to the road.

“Y/N!”

That relief turns into confusion when he notices how hard you jump at the sound of your own name, as well as he notices the hood from your jacket pulled over your face as if you were trying to stay hidden. When you turn to look at him, the fear in your eyes makes him stop in his tracks, and luckily so because you throw your hands up before the spider can get any closer

“Get back!”

Pavitr doesn’t understand your vagueness at first when you apologize for going M.I.A but still seem hesitant to come back with him

Until you offer to explain but only after he promises not to freak out when you show, not tell

He agrees, but doesn’t wrap his head around it until your body is suddenly engulfed in a sea of black (tentacles? liquid? he couldn’t tell) and your face is covered by rows of sharp, menacing teeth containing a slimy, and slightly unnerving, tongue and jagged white eyes

Despite the warning he still gets initially defensive, and seeing that was enough for the monster who took over you to loudly vocalize their concerns

“I told you he could not be trusted.”

For a moment it seemed like the being and you must’ve been arguing, but he could only hear it’s side of the conversation, and from the sounds of it the monster was the reason you’d gone missing

As fast as it had appeared, the demon disappeared you were standing in it’s place again. He relaxed, and you finally explained to him why you hadn’t gone back

Pavitr still seems a bit freaked out at the thought of another being living in your body, but after the initial worry he seems to be less on guard about the whole ordeal

Pavitr rushes to pull you into a hug before you could even get out your last word, tight enough to make you pat his back to try to tap out after the first few seconds. “Pav…”

He acts like he doesn’t hear you at first, but the second time you call his name he reluctantly pulls away, but only enough for you to breathe properly, and gets sheepish.

“Sorry, I just really missed you.”

Pav assures you that you have nothing to worry about and as long as your new parasite doesn’t cause any trouble he can manage, but makes you promise to never leave him worrying like that for so long again

— HOBIE BROWN

It would take him a while longer to realize something was wrong like Pav did

There have been times where the two of you haven’t talked for days due to him being off doing Soider-Man work or you just having your own life keeping you busy so not talking for a small period of time isn’t completely abnormal

The only difference? You’d always tell each other before it happened

On day one Hobie didn’t take much note of it when he came over by your place to visit after a long night fighting as Spider-Man. You’d probably been out running errands or out with friends, nothing worth stressing himself out over

Hobie wasn’t a fan of texting and calling as he preferred seeing you in person, so his phone mostly went unused unless it was an emergency

The next day Hobie decided to drop by in the evening to hang out with you in his free time, yet when he tried knocking the lack of an answer gave him the unknown feeling of something being wrong

When he resorted to the normal route (that being climbing in through your window) Hobie was surprised to be left standing on the side of the building because the window was locked

He didn’t understand the random change of heart when you almost always left it open for him to enter if he ever dropped by as Spider-Man

Hobie picked the lock and managed to slip in regardless, but the signs showing that you hadn’t been in your apartment in a while were starting to make him suspicious. All of the belongings you’d normally take with you when you left your home were still in the home, that much he realized after finally trying to call you, only to hear your phone buzzing in the room, fishing around and finding it still plugged into the wall under your sheets

You hadn’t even taken your phone?

That’s when he started to worry

With no way to contact you, Hobie chose to spend the rest of that day and the following night lounging around your place, hoping to see you walk in and explain that you’d been in a rush and give some reasonable explanation as to why you disappeared

But you don’t

He doesn’t want to entertain the thought that something bad could’ve happened to you, and even more so, he doesn’t want to believe it could’ve been related to someone finding out your relation to Spider-Man

Hobie resorts to asking around and doing his own investigating to figure out what happened to you (which mostly involved him interrogating any criminal or villain he encountered while out as Spider-Man, but that was besides the point)

He also abandons his home entirely and spends his time at your place instead in the off chance that you’ll show up

Which ends up being exactly what happens

With his feet kicked up on the arm of the couch and his head half-hanging off of the other end, Hobie found himself mindless strumming at the strings of his guitar to fill the silence that’d overtaken the room. His eyes were glued to the clock silently ticking that you’d hung up above the door to your bedroom, showing just how far into the night it was.

It’d been days since he’d seen you, and with no way to reach you and no leads on where you could’ve gone, he was running out of options to consider aside from sitting around hoping you’d return one day. He hated that option.

In the middle of running over every possibility for your disappearance in his mind, the sound of a lock clicking pulled him out of his head and his head snapped towards the door. His heart stopped for a moment, yet his hope that you’d finally come home was demolished the moment the door opened.

Hobie jumped up before he could think, guitar long forgotten, as instead of seeing you walk in, he witnessed a large (at least 7 feet) monster seemingly completely made out of black goop and baring razor sharp teeth come barreling through the door. It’s movements were calculated but it made a mess the moment it entered the door, slamming the door so hard there was an audible sound of wood splitting from the doorframe.

“I need food! Do you expect me to starve?! I can’t survive on stolen chocolate!”

Hobie had crawled up the wall and crouched from an upper corner in the room, silently wishing he’d brought his suit with him, but in no way could he have predicted this. He watched as the monster stomped around the room, seemingly throwing a fit as it argued with itself. It ran into a shelf and knocked over all of the trinkets on it, whether or not that was intentional or not. Just as he readied himself to attack was when the being turned and it’s head shot up, only then noticing the stranger who’d been watching the entire encounter.

In the blink of an eye he’d shot webs that connected to both of the monsters arms, limiting it’s movements and lunging forwards, kicking it to the ground. Unluckily for him, he couldn’t use the element of surprise twice, but the conversation that followed as he jumped to avoid it smashing him with it’s fists was more alarming than anything else.

“What about him, can I at least eat this one?”

Hobie was seconds away from flinging the monster into the wall when the black ooze started to melt away, and his movements came to a screeching halt when he realized it was your face under the mass.

To say he was surprised would’ve been a heavy understatement

“Tell me I’m dreaming.”

He was, in fact, not dreaming

He immediately backed off upon realizing what he was about to start fighting was his s/o, but demanded an explanation before he lost his mind trying to come up with one himself

When you explained how you’d become a host for the symbiote and why you were so afraid and couldn’t come see him, his reaction was more collected than you were expected even considering his calm personality, but he did proceed to lightly scold you for not coming to him in the first place while understanding why you would’ve been scared to do so

When he finds out about how Venom didn’t trust him, Hobie offers to make a deal to keep the symbiote in line and keep you from having issues dealing with the being not liking your boyfriend

What exactly was the deal? Hobie let’s Venom eat all of the corrupt government officials he ends up defeating, that way everyone’s happy

— EARTH-1610! MILES MORALES

Poor Miles would be going through it

He’s not as clingy as Pav but he does get worried since you guys talk nearly every day, so just like him, when you didn’t show up to class he was beyond worried

He’d try to call and ask if something was up since you two had plans for later that day, but no answer. Alongside that, no one else has seen you around either

When he calls your family and they voice their concerns about you not coming back home the day prior is when his nerves get the better of him

Miles is a smart boy so one of the first things he does is immediately go to his dad to file a missing person’s report

Alongside that, he’s questioning any and everyone he comes in contact with about whether or not they’d seen you around

As he clapped his hands together to mock wiping dust from his palms, Miles searches for his phone that he always seems to pull out of his suit from no where (because seriously, where does he have room to hold it?), ignoring the angry curses from the bank robber he’d webbed to the outside of the building.

“Yeah yeah yeah, that’s nice and all…” he mutters while typing away on his phone, which only seemed to anger the criminal anymore, evident by the vein popping in his forehead and the increase in words that definitely weren’t meant for children.

As the police sirens grew louder and the citizens who’d previously been the gunman’s hostages stood around anxiously, some attempting to get the heroes attention to ask for photos, Miles held up the phone to the man’s face and zoomed in.

“You seen this person around lately?”

It takes a week for him to finally find you (one of the worst weeks of his life), albeit it wasn’t you he was looking for initially

After being stopped in the street by an old woman complaining that she’d seen a monster lurking around the abandoned building near her apartment home and heard weird noises coming from it, Miles had gone to investigate in order to come back and happily report that there was nothing for her to worry about

Unfortunately for Miles, however, he was completely wrong, as when he crawled into the run down storage center through the roof, he caught a full view of a gigantic, inky black creature crunching on what was once the full body of a man

He would’ve been more concerned over the fact that there was a man-eating monster lurking the streets of Brooklyn had he not focused on taking down the monster first, but just as he dropped down from the ceiling is when it became aware of its presence and what he assumed was the creatures skin started to peel away until you were left standing in its place

The mask prevented you from seeing his full expression, but the way the eyes widened was enough to show his mixture of shock and confusion

Miles could only stand there, baffled as he listened to you explain your situation and how you’d become their new host. When he got a chance to speak, the first thing he brought up was how he’d technically just watched his s/o eat a man alive, only for you to reassure him that it was the only person you’d ever eaten and that he was a really bad criminal you’d had eyes on for days

It was hard for him to make sense of it and while he didn’t exactly enjoy the thought of you having to eat people to survive now, Miles will admit that as long as you aren’t devouring the innocent he can manage

“So…does this make you like- a zombie or something?”

You tried (and failed) to resist the urge to roll your eyes at his comment as the two of you sat atop the roof of the old building, watching the city. “Miles.”

“I’m just saying, Venom eat brains,” he raised one hand, “zombies eat brains,” he raised his other, then pushed the two together, “you’re kind of like a zombie. You come become a hero like me! Maybe keep the ‘eating heads’ part on the down low, though. I can even come up with a cool zombie name for you! We could be a team.”

“One, I am not a zombie, and two, what’s wrong with the name Venom?”

“It’s fine I guess, not nearly as cool as a zombie name would be though-” he stopped when your hand suddenly shot up before his reflexes could kick in and smacked him in the mouth. “-hey!”

“Sorry! That was Venom.”

Miles made a face at you, but you knew it was more or less directed at the symbiote.

“Venom said that’s a terrible idea and you’re an idiot.”

That’s not what I said.

“-in more vulgar words that I’m not going to repeat.”

He raised his hands defensively. “That’s a genius idea! Would you rather be named after brains or chocolate or something instead? Chocolate and spiders don’t go together at all.”

“Neither do zombies and spiders.”

“Point taken.”

“…”

“…what about Spider-Zom-”

“Miles.”

“Alright alright, Venom it is.”

— EARTH-42! MILES MORALES

Miles would get straight trying to find you the second he realized it’s been hours since he’s seen you and no one else has a clue where you’ve gone too

He’s not the type to be too overbearing but he is really overprotective considering you’re associated with him and the type of danger he gets himself involved in, so making sure you’re always is a number one priority for him and when he has no idea what you’re up to for a long enough period of time he gets worried

Especially considering the amount of crime in the city, for all he knows anything could’ve happened to you and if he finds out that something did and he wasn’t there to protect you he’d be devastated

Immediately let’s Uncle Aaron know to keep an eye out and that most of his Prowler business would be put on hold until he finds you because you’re more important than any vigilante work

The longer you’re gone, the more anxious he becomes and while he might not show it most of the ones he’s close to will be able to tell that something’s up

“Cálmate, Miles. The more you sit around stressing yourself out the harder you’re being on yourself for no reason. I’m sure they’ll show up any day now.”

Miles tried to take his mother’s words to heart, but knowing that you could be out there anywhere in pain or worse because of him leaves him no room to relax.

“No puedo, mamí. I have to know that they’re okay.”

His worries were starting to manifest physically, the tightness in between his brows, constant bouncing of his leg and the tapping of his fingers on any surface he could reach being clear signs of it. He was sure he’d checked his phone nearly a hundred times in the last hour alone, waiting for a call from you saying you were okay or a text from Uncle Aaron letting him know he’d found you. Something, anything. It was the fourth night in a row he’d spent up all night, completely abandoning his bed when he realized he wouldn’t be able to sleep.

His mother leaned down and placed a hand over his own to stop him from the finger tapping he hadn’t realized he’d picked up again, turning over his phone to lay it flat on his desk.

“And it’s my job to make sure you’re okay. Get some rest, I’m sure if we get any updates it won’t be in the middle of the night.”

He looked her in the eye for a moment, but any attempt to disagree was futile as he knew he couldn’t argue against her.

“Okay, fine, I’ll get some sleep.”

“¿Juras?”

“Lo juro.”

With a kiss on the cheek she left him to his own devices in his room, but as soon as the door shut and he was sure he’d heard her footsteps retreated back to her room, Miles grabbed his claws and mask and headed straight for the fire escape.

All attempts at trying to find you were futile, and while he refused to lose hope Miles was beginning to assume the worst

He never wanted to entertain the thought that you could’ve died or worse, but thankfully for him that worry was squashed when in the middle of yet another restless night, Miles suddenly heard tapping coming from his window

The one clawed glove he always kept on him was the first thing Miles reached for when he heard the initial taps on his window, but as he slowly approached the window, he paused with the glove half on when meeting your gaze as your head poked over from the edge of the windowsill.

With a mixture of confusion and surprise, he rushed to unlock and open the window, watching in awe as you climbed through, rising to your feet. He looks out the window, taking note of the fact that there’s absolutely no way you could’ve climbed up given that there was nothing to climb on and his window was far from the ground.

When you look at each other a long moment filled with silence follows, and he can’t help but notice if you’re studying his looks or judging them.

“You look tired.”

Possibly both?

“I’m sorry- I didn’t mean to wake you, I shouldn’t have come.”

He seems to snap out of it as soon as you start heading back for the window, reaching out to grab you by the arm.

“Wait! Stay.”

Miles would have loads and loads of questions to ask you, starting with “are you okay?” and ending with “why did you disappear on me? i was worried sick!”

Listening to you explain how you’d become a permanent host for the symbiote was almost just as hard to comprehend as when you showed it off and allowed Venom to momentarily take over you

He’d unconsciously move back without realizing it, but you retreated back to your normal self moments after just for the sake of not freaking him out

It’d take a moment to process, but when you’d show signs of guilt and mentioned leaving again and understanding if he didn’t want to be associated with you he’d stopped you again

“You really won’t mind?”

Shaking his head, Miles pulled you in for an embrace, nose pressed into the top of your head for a moment before a placed a kiss on your forehead.

“You come as a package deal now, right? I don’t really have a choice of not being cool with the whole Venom thing, no way I’m leaving you. Somos tu y yo.”

When he pulled back he noticed you make a funny face and muttered a quick no, only for a moment, and wondered what was wrong.

“It’s nothing, Venom just asked if they could eat you.”

“Is that good or bad?”

“I mean, I guess that means they think you’re tasty so probably good, take it as a compliment.”

“I’ll take what I can get.”

[yawarakaizai]

Yan!dazai mindbreaking angel!reader ooo

ⵌ WATCH HER BREAK JUST LIKE A DOLL

SENDER Angel!Reader (Fem) RECIPITENT Yandere!Dazai (BSD) CONTENTS NSFW DARK CONTENT 16+ , obsession/possession, drugging, mind-breaking, reader is a hostage?, unhealthy relationship, dubcon/nc??, abuse (physical implied + mental), slight somnophilia, lowkey angsty, dazai is an asshole!, smut part isn't really detailed (WARNING; This relationship is unhealthy and should not be used as an example. Reader here does not hold Dazai accountable. If you are in an abusive relationship, please seek help from someone you trust or a professional! This fanfic does not idolise nor condone abuse within relationships) NOTE All these years of feeling inadequate and dumb. You were proud to have grown accustomed to Dazai's routine, even if he had promised you months ago he had changed. COMPANY Dolly

A/N combined 2 asks I ACCIDENTALLY DELETED THE ASK BUT IT WAS A YANDERE DAZAI NSFW IDEA im so sorryy ... also any other yan dazai req ! !! srry for the long wait ;; !! reader is an angel !! she was kind of created ,,? kinda like sigma !! the og req had an idea abt aphrodisiacs but ... not sure if i want to write about them just yet :( so sorry!!

Dutiful and pristine, you were a model wife.

Delicate and gorgeous. Just how he liked you to be.

You were brought her to serve as his prize. His reward for years of watching you from afar, stalking you like a lions meal. And you, pure and kind-hearted, not once ever suspected a thing.

Dazai was your co-worker after all. A smart, handsome man with a positive future.

Back before this all, you were nothing but a mere fascination to not only him, but your peers as well. You were never offended or hesitant to answer questions others would have about you. How you came to be, whether you remember anything, and if those feathers of yours regrow.

You coped with everything by dissociating as much as possible. If you could believe hard enough - Dazai was still the Dazai you knew before. The man next to you who'd pout when ordered to finish his report, the one who would turn to you and try to flirt or make you giggle, knowing Kunikida would never dare give out to you.

How could anyone, after all? You only manifested a few years ago. What was it, eleven, or twelve. You can't remember. There was little you remember anyway.

The first few months with Dazai were a blur. You'd have blacked out for the majority of the day until he'd wake you up and force you to eat. If you'd refuse, he'd starve you until you'd beg.

You had tried to protest by going days without food or water but he always got his way in the end. You had to give in at some point.

The biggest obstacle was finding the guts to hate Dazai.

You were afraid to hate him. You were afraid to hate.

He'd treat you so gently and with love. Funnily enough, you blamed yourself for it all. You didn't know why or how, but you felt like if you had done things different, none of this would have happened.

Osamu was sweet. He always did what was right. You respected Kunikida and Fukuzawa immensely. If they trust Dazai, then so did you.

If you knew that you were a lamb handed to a wolf, maybe you would have ran much earlier.

Dazai did not show himself upfront. No. First, it was the mind games. The ghastly figures that would appear outside of your window in the form of blackened shadows, doors you remember closing being wide open when you return home, bangs and creaks around your home when you lived alone, your items disappearing from their usual spot, laundry vanishing completely, and countless mysterious messages from anonymous.

Second, it was you asking for help. You turned to who you admired best. The Armed Detective Agency. Ranpo scanned your phone. He read each message out loud before looking at you, then back down at your screen. He slid it back towards you. " There's nothing suspicious. It's just a prank. "

You felt relief. Ranpo had his ability, after all. The ability to figure out any mystery. He could not be wrong.

How dumb of you to think Ranpo would not be the first person Dazai would go to for his sick joke.

Third was the fever. It hit you like a brick. It was the first time you had been infected with a human illness. Dazai kindly offered to tend to you in his free-time, as everyone else was too busy. You were grateful that Dazai, an important member of the ADA, was sacrificing his time in helping you. He'd stop by almost every day and night to feed you and make sure you're alright. The more you drank that chalky water he'd give you daily before bed, the more you lost your ability to walk.

Fourth, was the inevitable. You waking up in a bed that was harder than yours. Upon observing around you, you realised you weren't in your house. And you don't recall ever sleeping next to Dazai. Naturally, you were afraid. You were in hysterics while he tried to calm you down, telling you stories on how it's safer for you to be here, and that you were an ungrateful bitch for not being grateful enough to him.

You didn't want to hear any of it. So? You were kept in his lovely basement.

There, you were badly treated. Sleeping on cold concrete and eating what scraps he'd leave on the floor for you like some animal - any form of resistance was met with harsh punishment.

You lacked survival instincts. You not once ever felt the need to. Working in the ADA, you were nothing but an accountant. You'd hear about the missions they'd go on, but to you it all seemed like the things you'd see in action films.

But this was real. The way your heart pounded in your ears every time you'd hear steps coming down and the way he'd tug your hair 'till your scalp would burn is something that the actors would never be able to portray properly.

It took you a while to realise you weren't going to make any progress by doing the opposite of what he wanted.

Though, you were admittedly conflicted.

You provided Dazai something interesting. If you let him use you, to spare yourself of his harsh punishments, would he get bored of you? Would he rid of you completely? Would he treat you more terribly to purposely make you act out just so he'd have a reason to strike you?

These were questions that would keep you up.

You couldn't be strong-willed for long. Hope that Kunikida or anyone else would come looking for you dwindled as the days went by and none would come but Dazai.

At some point, you had lost your voice for a while. In that period, Dazai took complete advantage of the fact. When you could do nothing but thrash and cry until you submit underneath him.

He'd pull out, collapse next to you and hold you close to his bandaged chest and apologise until he fell asleep with your hot breath against his skin.

Dazai had been your first time. He took an angel's virginity. You were frozen for the rest of the night. You were almost neutral to what had happened. You even wiped his tears away with your thumb. He apologised. He must surely be remorseful. He promised he wouldn't do it again.

You lost your halo that day.

'' Fetch me some water, I'm thirsty. "

His hand came off your head where it had been caressing.

You looked up at him through long lashes, slowly nodding your head and raising to unstable feet.

Ever since you were allowed to stay out of the basement, he's been helping you regain your ability to walk after the drugs had left your knees shaky.

Your movement was slow but gradual, at least.

If you wished to remain with Dazai, you'd have to obey him. And obey you did.

You fetched him his requested glass of water albeit spilling a tad bit on your way back, you presented him with it.

He peered in, then slouched back into the couch, gaze returning to the television screen. " I said orange juice. "

You were sure he said water.

" But you said water. " Your voice was meek compared to his.

" Are you saying I am lying? "

That shut you up.

You apologised, and travelled back to the kitchen to throw away the water and replace it with orange juice.

You'd bring it back, and he'd look at you with disappointment. " Why are you bringing me orange juice when I asked for apple juice? "

He sounded so convincing that you thought maybe you were mishearing. You held the orange juice in your hand tightly, apologised, and left to get the apple juice.

By the time you returned, you were shaking. The apple juice was dripping from the overfilled glass and onto the floor. You were trembling. " It's- It's apple juice. Because y-ou said.. "

Your gaze was so distant. You were so far away. You were no longer on this Earth. Dazai had to keep you grounded.

" You must be taking me for a fucking idiot. "

He slapped the glass right from your hand, your whole body jolted in shock when the glass shattered against the floor.

You two had just been cuddling on the couch, watching a noir movie like a happy couple would.

Dazai had to keep you grounded. He had to keep you on a leash lest you wander.

" Get over here. " He sighed out after a long pause. Instinctively, you answered, " No. "

It's been so long since you were punished. You didn't want to go back to them.

" I didn't do anything wrong ", your voice croaked out to reason. You should have figured at some point Dazai would get bored of a normal life style.

" I said get over here, Y/N, my patience is already running low. I'm not going to hit you. "

And no matter what you've been through, you'd wake up praying Dazai was kinder. He had overheard your nightly prayers one day and in an act of irony or sympathy - hung a cross over your bed.

You fiddled with the hem of your skirt before waddling to between his spread thighs. Hand reaching for your hip and guiding you down to sit on his lap, you avoided eye contact.

You were clearly afraid of being punished for something that was not your fault. You couldn't tell Dazai it wasn't your fault. That would be calling Dazai a liar. And that would get you hit. Good wives don't get hit.

True to his word, he did not raise his hand to you at all.

Once he opened his mouth to speak, you attentively turned to him. His training worked wonders on you. He made himself your God in a matter of months. You no longer worried your pretty little head on whether Kunikida would save you. All you had to do was clean around the house and prepare Dazai's meal - living to serve your husband.

" You've been such a good girl, don't ruin it with this, 'kay? " He didn't sound mad anymore, but you could still pick up on the fact he was not exactly happy with you either.

" Yes, 'samu. " You nod, toying with your fingers nervously.

" You're such a sweet wife. So dumb. So cute. Love seeing you panic. "

You bit your bottom lip at that, chewing on skin.

'' D'ya think It's about time we started our own family? "

You thought at first you didn't hear him properly. You knew you were trying to convince yourself so.

" Ahah.. " You were hesitant. He picked up on it. His dark brown eyes felt like lasers. " I don't think I can. I'd love to, 'samu, but I can't. "

He let go of his soft grasp on your hip to allow you to stand up.

It was 9pm. You should head to bed.

His silence and poker face felt foreboding.

" Goodnight, love. " You tried to remain cheerful.

You went to bed earlier than Dazai. You climbed into your shared bed after having taken your nightly medication.

You fluffed out your wings - once white, now grey - then tossed and turned until you slept.

" Hah.. hah.. "

The burning heat is what hit you first.

Confusion was second.

" Wakin' up, pretty baby? "

Your mouth opened by itself before your eyes did, and when you tried to speak, to ask what is going on, you let out a soft moan.

You feel something sink in deeper in your pussy, the wooden bed frame hitting against a wall. Oh.

" 'Samu! " Your eyes shot open upon realising what was happening. Dazai had not done this for a while. The room was dark. Judging by how dry your mouth was, you had been fast asleep for a while.

Dazai was propped on his knees between your thighs, naked from what you could make out.

You looked further down to realise that he had shoved his dick in you while you were asleep. Your nightgown was pulled up over your stomach and his hands were holding on loosely to your hips.

Your hand reached out to grip onto his wrist, your legs unable to close. " No, you said you were gonna be better, you said no more of this. " Oh, you sweet poor child.

" It's alright. " He responded casually, pulling out just to slam back in. Although your vision was limited, you could feel his piercing stare studying your contorting features. " Just this once, yeah? "

You remembered your conversation with Dazai earlier. The sudden question about having a child.

When you tightened around the base of his shaft, he knew what you were thinking.

" Don't get all scared, baby. You'd make an amazing mom. " He would bend down, his mouth next to your ear as he'd begin thrusting.

You lay unresponsive and silent, staring at the ceiling - your only solace.

His huffs, groans and sighs muffle themselves on your pillow, your body would temporarily jolt in spasms with each orgasm.

Dazai continued for hours.

At some point, your hands were tangled in messy brown hair, your mouth hung and your voice would plead for 'more', 'there', 'deeper'.

Your sweet husband never pulled you back when you drifted off to space with your longing gaze.

He barely even met you in the eye.

Dazai finished his rounds before you noticed. It was a period of him not touching you that made you turn your head sideways to meet him laying next to you, his chest still raising and falling as he'd regain his breath.

You hadn't moved your body.

Adjusted to the dark, you couldn't help but stare at the pitiful man who spoke nothing to you.

An emptiness weighed your heart down and the liquid love he had planted in you seeped - unwelcomed.

You still felt bad for him. Surely, definitely, this was not his fault.

" I'd like a girl. "

Your lips trembled, you smiled to hide it.

" Two.. daughters. "

The corners of your lips quivered with your fake expression. He could see your eyes gloss and your shivering body, blinking rapidly until your tears slid down.

You never did want children. Not with Dazai, at least. Not for another few years. Not here, not now, not with him. Not this Dazai.

He left you waiting for a while, until he rolled onto his back and looked up at the ceiling that enamoured you with amazement when he had made love to you.

" Yeah. "

He sounded uncertain, before continuing his response. You had expected it. All these years of feeling inadequate and dumb. You were proud to have grown accustomed to Dazai's routine, even if he had promised you months ago he had changed.

" 'm sorry. "

" I know. "

©yawarakaizai 2023 ﹒﹒ reblogs appreciated! requests open :3

[barbies1shots]

You dont have to write it if you dont want to buttt can we have reader getting revenge on toxic!sukuna THAT MAN NEEDS TO PAYYY🤬

just imagine her cheating back and then finally running away forever🤭

YESS !! we finally need a break from toxic!sukuna .

toxic!sukuna part1 toxic!sukuna part2

☆ - TOXIC themes , cheating , lying , mentions of family , praise , name calling

fedup!reader who blocks Sukuna on all media.

fedup!reader who goes to the police and files a restraining order on him.

fedup!reader who breaks down as she figures out what happened with the videos and pictures he took.

fedup!reader who clears up all the drama between her and Sukuna, claiming that everything was not consented to and most of it was abuse.

fedup!reader who goes out to try and refresh herself, wanting to start a new life away from the negative people.

fedup!reader who meets a nice man, who offers to help her move.

fedup!reader who moved different states to get away from him.

fedup!reader who now takes self defense lessions and now is at the top of her class.

fedup!reader who goes to a dinner date with her new man and figures out that a healthy relationship is what she needs.

fedup!reader who smiles and laughs in appreciation as her new man gave her jewelry as a gift.

fedup!reader who now is riding that man, making him whimper out 'pleases' and 'thank yous'

fedup!reader who smiles happily when she looks at her new man, (your fav).

fedup!reader who crys out when that man fucks her dumb, who fucks her so lovingly that shes numb from the inside out.

fedup!reader who clings onto her new man as he finishes inside of her, mumbling about how good she is.

fedup!reader who looks in the mirror and sees Sukuna standing behind her.

fedup!reader who screams to loudly and darts to the door before Sukuna can get a chance to get his hands on her.

fedup!reader who cries as she calls the cops when she hears him running after her.

fedup!reader who runs to a stop before turning on her heal before punching that man straight in his throat, having him crumbled at her feet.

fedup!reader who saw Sukuna choke on air as his throat seemed to be closing in.

"Didnt i fucking tell you to leave me alone?! I want nothing to do with you Sukuna! Youve hurt me in ways unimaginable and im done! im done with you, im done with your nasty ass head, im done with the way you try to claim me like a damn pig!"

fedup!reader who stares Sukuna straight in his eye as his hands are cuffed behind his back.

fedup!reader who flips her middle finger up at him as hes being driven away in a cop car.

fedup!reader who eventually breaks down crying as the past traumatic moments and adrenaline finally catch up to her.

fedup!reader who looks up and sees her man talk to her in a calm voice and pulling her into his chest.

"look at me, baby. i swear i wont ever leave you, i will make sure you are so happy that it will be sickening. i love you so much, baby, you can never compare. let me hold you, let me in and let me help heal you. i promise to be there at your lowest, at your highest. trust me to help pick yourself back and put yourself back on the right track. i will be by your side."

fedup!reader who burns every single letter sent out to her from Sukuna.

fedup!reader who, then months later, is now in therapy and is going so much better now.

fedup!reader whos therapist told her to make peace with the one thing thats making her have anxiety ridden episodes.

fedup!reader who vists the prison Sukuna is locked in.

"Miss me baby?"

fedup!reader whos eyes well up in tears as she explans to him everything he did wrong.

fedup!reader who stares at Sukuna with hatred as he screams in her face behind the glass.

"you cant lie, you bitch! you were begging me to let you cum! you were begging to let me fuck that pussy! you were begging me to hug and love on you! ive told you, you can escape from me, baby! give me a chance, ill make you love all again!"

fedup!reader who walks out the room with Sukuna yelling at her back that she loved everything he did.

fedup!reader who walks outside and takes a deep breathe before getting in the car and kissing (your fav) on the cheek with a nice smile.

fedup!reader who helps other women in similar situations and now has gotten a part of her life back.

fedup!reader who now has gotten away and is the most happy she will ever be away from Sukuna.

fedup!reader who posts on social media her family, two boys and a kitten, hoping Sukuna will see it when he gets out.

fedup!reader who laughs as she knows Sukuna isnt shit anymore.

ahhhhh getting revenge on Sukuna , ik it wasnt violent but if you want it violent, TELL ME !!

-Aizawas BARB !

[ourflagmeansgayrights]

so part of me wants to blame this entirely on wbd, right? bloys said he was cool with the show getting shopped around, so assuming he was telling the truth (not that im abt to start blindly trusting anything a CEO says lol), that means it’s not an hbo problem. and we already know wbd has an awful track record with refusing to sell their properties—altho unlike coyote v acme, s3 of ofmd isn’t a completed work and therefore there isn’t the same tax writeoff incentive to bury the thing. i just can’t see any reason to hold on to ofmd except for worrying about image, bc it would be embarrassing if they let this show go with such a devoted fanbase and recognizable celebrities and it went somewhere else and did really well (which it would undoubtedly do really well, we’ve long since proven that). it feels kinda tinfoil hat of me to making assumptions abt what’s going on in wbd behind the scenes, but i also feel like there are hints that i’m onto something w my suspicions: suddenly cracking down on fan merch on etsy doesn’t seem like something a studio looking to sell their property would bother with, and we know someone was paying to track the viewing stats on ofmd’s bbc airing, which isn’t finished yet, so i’d expect whoever is monitoring that to not make a decision abt buying ofmd until the s2 finale dropped.

but also i think part of me just wants there to be a clear villain in the situation. it’s kinda comforting to have a face to blame, a clear target to shake my fist at. but the truth is that the entire streaming industry is in the shitter. streaming is not pulling in the kind of profit that investors were promised, and we’re seeing the bubble that was propped up w investor money finally start to pop. studios aren’t leaving much room in their budgets for acquiring new properties, and they’re whittling down what they already have. especially w the strikes last year, they’re all penny pinching like hell. and that’s much a much harder thing to rage against than just one studio or one CEO being shitty. that’s disheartening in a way that’s much bigger and more frightening than if there was just one guy to blame.

my guess is that the truth of the situation is probably somewhere in the middle. wbd is following the same shitty pattern they’ve been following since the merger, and it’s just a hard time for anyone trying to get their story picked up by any studio. ofmd is just one of many shows that are unlucky enough to exist at this very unstable time for the tv/streaming industry.

when i think abt it that way, tho, i’m struck by how lucky we are that ofmd even got to exist at all. if the wbd merger had happened a year earlier, or if djenks and tw tried to pitch this show a year later, there’s no way this show would’ve been made. s1 was given the runtime and the creative freedom needed to tell the story the way the showrunners wanted to, and the final product benefited from it so much that it became a huge hit from sheer gay word of mouth. and for all the imperfections with s2—the shorter episode order, the hard 30 minute per episode limit, the last-minute script changes, the finale a butchered mess of the intended creative vision—the team behind ofmd managed to tell a beautiful story despite the uphill battle they undoubtedly were up against. they ended the season with the main characters in a happy place. ed and stede are together, and our last shot of ed isn’t of him sobbing uncontrollably (like i rlly can’t stress enough how much i would have never been able to acknowledge the existence of this show again if s1 was all we got)

like. y’all. we were this close to a world where ofmd never got to exist. for me, at least, the pain of an undue cancellation is worth getting to have this story at all. so rather than taking my comfort in the form of righteous anger at david zaslav or at wbd or at the entire streaming industry as a whole, i’m trying to focus on how lucky i am to get to have the show in the first place.

bc really, even as i’m reeling in grief to know this is the end of the road for ofmd, a part of me still can’t quite wrap my head around that this show is real. a queer romcom about middle-aged men, a rejection of washboard abs and facetuned beauty standards, a masterful deconstruction and criticism of toxic masculinity, well-written female characters who get to shine despite being in a show that is primarily about manhood and masculinity, diverse characters whose stories never center around oppression and bigotry, a casually nonbinary character, violent revenge fantasies against oppressors that are cathartic but at the same time are not what brings the characters healing and joy, a queer found family, a strong theme of anti colonialism throughout the entire show. a diverse writers room that got to use their perspectives and experiences to inform the story. the fact that above all else, this show is about the love story between ed and stede, which means the character arcs, the thoughts, the feelings, the motivations, the backstories, and everything else that make up the characters of ed and stede are given the most focus and the most care.

bc there rlly aren’t a lot of shows where a character like stede—a flamboyant and overtly gay middle-aged man who abandoned his family to live his life authentically—gets to be the main character of a romcom, gets to be the hero who the show is rooting for.

and god, there definitely aren’t a lot of shows where a character like ed—a queer indigenous man who is famous, successful, hyper-competent, who feels trapped by rigid standards of toxic hypermasculinity, who yearns for softness and gentleness and genuine interpersonal connection and vulnerability, whose mental health struggles and suicidal intentions are given such a huge degree of attention and delicate care in their depiction, who messes up and hurts people when he’s in pain but who the show is still endlessly sympathetic towards—gets to exist at all, much less as the romantic lead and the second protagonist of the show.

so fuck the studios, fuck capitalism, fuck everything that brought the show to an end before the story was told all the way through. because the forces that are keeping s3 from being made are the same forces that would’ve seen the entire show canceled before it even began. s3 is canceled, and s2 suffered from studio meddling, but we still won. we got to have this show. we got to have these characters. there’s been so much working against this show from the very beginning but here we are, two years later, lives changed bc despite all odds, ofmd exists. they can’t take that away from us. they can’t make us stop talking abt or stop caring abt this show. i’m gonna be a fan of this show til the day i die, and the studios hate that. they hate that we care about things that don’t fit into their business strategy, they hate that not everyone will blindly consume endless IP reboots and spin-offs and cheap reality tv.

anyway i dont rlly have a neat way to end this post. sorta just rambling abt my feelings. idk, i know this sucks but im not rlly feeling like wallowing in it. i think my gratitude for the show is outweighing my grief and anger, at least for right now. most important thing tho is im not going anywhere. and my love for this show is certainly not fucking going anywhere.

[simpjaes]

Homewrecker! Jake and Husband! Jay universe…

Something about how arousing it would be with Jake begging and pleading Jay to share his (new) wife and Jay finally gives in one time, only for you to sneak around with Jake behind his back multiple times after that😃😃

a very short drabble bc im an absolute feral fucking mess over these two at all times.

"Jay, listen-" Jake pleads without context, downing the rest of his beer as he grips his friend's shirt for dear life. "I'm listening." Jay says off handedly, eyes everywhere but Jake, only because his face is so close to him. Then again, his best friend always tends to get too touchy and close when he's been drinking. "Your wife." Jake whispers against his friend's face, beer-breath all but tolerable. "Just hear me out man, please. It'll be just like the college days- Just hear me out. bro- what if-"

Jay shifts his head to face him, a mere inch or so away from the other man's glazed over, very drunk eyes.

"Jake, what the fuck are you going on about? My wife? What about her?" He warns, knowing the realm of absolutely not's Jake is trying to tread. "Just hear me out man, we're best friends, i'd never do anything to-" "Anything to what?" Jay finishes for him, tensing his muscles and fixing his posture to that of someone who is....somewhat intimidating, despite his own drunk state. Still, this is his wife Jake is bringing up. "Bro I haven't gotten my dick wet since the last time we took that girl home." Jay is...arguably shocked into disbelief by that. He and his best friend never had trouble in the bedroom, in regards to finding someone anyway. "So? What? You want to fuck my wife?" "Well..." Jake offers him a crooked smile, the answer plastered on his face. "No." Jay wavers, his state allowing him to imagine the old times just for a moment. And, well, that no didn't last very long considering his friend's promises of staying in his lane, and his persistence of course. Just a week later, he's watching his best friend bury his length into his very own wife, watching you moan for a man that isn't him all while keeping eye contact. At least he had that, and your mouth, of course, to bury into with little to no fight against your gagging throat. ~ Unfortunately, a one time thing with Jay, your husband, became a thirteen or fourteen time with Jake. Always coming back. Always pleading, persistent, and approaching you with a pre-dripping cock. Jay should know, actually, that you always loved the neediness in a man. Though Jay himself, usually got what he wanted, he played along with your little kink of whining, crying, and begging from time to time. Jake though? He's not playing along. He's genuinely just a needy motherfucker, crying and whining any chance he can get you alone. Unfortunately, Jay trusts the man a bit too much in terms of leaving the two of you alone together. Thirteen or fourteen times too much. Straying hands, pleading fingers, eyes always on the verge of near tears just to get yet another taste of his best friend's wife. That's how Jake is, and you're all to willing to be wanted and needed by more than just your husband. Who are you to say no? Outside of like, you know, mostly being in a monogamous relationship and all. You think hard about it one night, dripping in wet due to Jake's consistent texts asking when you'll be home alone again. Jay wouldn't be so hard to ask. Really. For a third. ~ note: man, yall gonna fucking love the jayke threesome ill soon upload lmaooooooooooooooooooo

[elsfairy]

emi my love, can i request a scream! ellie or abby for halloween? i’m planning on writing one as well but i’d love to see how you’d pull it off. (amazingly ofc🤭)

oh my.... the way you’re trusting me with this..... 😳 me lowkey not knowing if you wanted smut, but we all know im a whore for it. for you, i did my best so i hope this is what you wanted, baby 💗

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ 𝐒𝐀𝐘 𝐌𝐘 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄, 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 — a. anderson

Tonight was a cold evening, colder than usual, especially with it being Halloween. You had spent most of your afternoon going into the evening, slowly but perfectly getting together a little candlelight dinner for your girlfriend, Abby. It was your 2 year anniversary and you wanted tonight's dinner to be a lot more special than when it was your one year. Thankfully you hadn’t had kids and their parents knocking on your door, smiling and asking for candy so that gave you even more time to pick out the perfect outfit, find the best makeup looks and finish it off with the sweetest perfume.

There was only one slight problem in the plan you had ready for tonight . . . she was late. In fairness to her, she had to work a long shift tonight so you knew her schedule was going to be a little crazy but you only received the ‘i won’t be able to make it tonight’ text 30 minutes ago. You were defeated, you felt stupid and you were exhausted from spending so much time on your feet, trying to make something perfect for her, for you both, only for it to be ruined because she had to work late. It wasn’t unusual for her to be late, but it was weird because she promised she would be here. She even said she had an extra surprise for you, so why the sudden change?

At first, you were waiting for another text saying she was just kidding and that she would be home soon, but it never came. You had gotten tired of watching the minutes tick by on the clock in the kitchen from where you sat in the living room, and with a defeated sigh, you dropped the napkin you had resting on your lap, onto the table and pushed your chair out to make your way to the bedroom.

Your hand had just reached the door handle of your bedroom when the sound of your phone, the one you left on the dining room table, had started to ring which had you turning around, sprinting to it, hoping and praying that it was Abby and she had somehow managed to get someone to cover her shift to be home with you.

“Hello?” Your voice cheerful.

“What’s your favourite scary movie?” The voice, one you didn’t recognise came from the other side of the phone.

The smile you had on your face dropped, frustration and sadness took over quickly. Rolling your eyes at the stupid question, you continued your way to your bedroom. “I’m not in the mood for your questions” came your snarky, bitter reply. “How’d you even get this number?”

“Oh, c’mon everyone has a favourite scary movie”

“I don’t. I’m really not in the mood for this bullshit”

“Is that why you look so miserable in such a pretty dress?”

The air was suddenly knocked from your lungs, your body turning around abruptly as your eyes were looking everywhere. Confused about how this stranger, who you’ve never met, knows exactly what you’re wearing and just how fuckin’ miserable you look. “I don’t know what sick game you’re playing, but know that my girlfriend is on the way home from work, and i won’t hesitate to call the police. Do you hear me?”

Not wanting to entertain this douche any longer than you already had, you hurriedly hung up the phone, almost throwing it with how frustrated you were with how ruined this night had become for you. All you wanted was a nice night with the woman you loved, eating something you both adore and instead, you had some idiot prank calling you at your worst. It was indeed a shitty night and you wanted nothing more than to take a warm bath and sleep the night away. 

Your body had just reached the end of the bed when the sound of the floorboards beneath you had creaked. The only fucked up floorboard in the apartment that you had been telling Abby for months to try and sort out. It wasn’t your foot that caused it, you always avoided that one out of habit when your girl has been working all day, and tried to avoid waking her up in the early hours of the morning. The hair on the back of your neck stood quickly, and your body on it’s own accord turned just slightly to spot the figure— a tall, broad-shouldered figure standing in your doorway. Face covered with a mask you thought was familiar but couldn’t really name right now, and their head tilted, just watching you.

For some reason you didn’t feel panic, your heart was racing sure, but the longer you both just watched each other, you didn’t feel any need to instantly throw something at your intruder. However, the panic raised in you slightly when the figure took one step forward as you took one back. A subtle yet soft gasp had slipped past your lips when your back gently knocked into the wall, your hand trying to grip something to stop yourself from falling flat on your face. “Careful, wouldn’t want you falling over on me now”

The voice sounded like one you had recognised but it was so muffled by the current mask, it was making it hard for you to understand and put your finger on it. Your heart picked up the pace and started beating a little faster, where the fuck was Abby? Why were you not screaming? Trying to push them away? Something about them seemed so . . . comforting but maybe you were just slightly delusional from the half glass of wine you had.

You hadn’t realized you had zoned out slightly until the feeling of fingers grazing your jaw, pulled you out of your trance, your lips part at realizing just how close they are to you. The feeling of them being so familiar with you still resides in your chest, and it isn’t until you hear that fuckin’ breathless chuckle that your knees buckle.

“Abby?” 

“You really think i would stand you up on our anniversary, baby?”

You simply couldn’t focus on what she was saying because you were too focused on the hand she had groping your tits, somehow already pulling your dress down to get a view of them, her fingers pinching at your already hardened nipples, while her other hand is sliding up your dress, already slipping into your panties. With a groan she leans more into you, pushing you more into the wall, the feeling of your slick covering her fingers. “Jesus Christ, you get so fuckin’ wet. This turn you on that much?”

With the way her fingers were rubbing circles on your clit, spreading your slick over your folds, and how good her hand was on your tit, you couldn’t form one correct sentence, and the only thing that you were letting out was whimpers and whines into her shoulder, nails bluntly digging into her arm. “wanna see you, please? please let me see you Abs” You beg softly, your back arching off the wall when those thick fingers tease your hole.

“Yeah? c’mon then pretty girl, take it off for me”

The second those words came from her mouth, your hands moved quickly, gripping the bottom of the mask, and pulling it off swiftly. Her blonde locks cascade down her shoulders, flyways framing her face, and your heart melted at the sight of her blue eyes looking at you with such a soft look, and a grin making it’s way onto her face. “Knew you were freaky, but not this freaky”

Before you had time to defend yourself or bite back at her words, she slipped her fingers inside your cunt, your walls instantly trapping them and the action caused her to grunt into your neck, while you were gasping out her name softly at the intrusion. The sounds leaving you were driving her crazy, and sending her brain into a frenzy. You always made the prettiest sounds, and she would keep doing everything possible to hear them.

Resting her forehead against yours, the squelching sound your cunt was making rang through her ears loudly and she could feel her own cunt clenching around nothing at how good you felt, how good you sounded, and how pretty you begged “Say my name, baby” She whispered breathlessly against you.

“Abby . . ”

Rubbing your clit with her thumb, you almost felt winded at the extra attention, and Abby was quick to remove her hand from your tits, to wrap her arm around your waist to keep you up, and steady. You had to use all your remaining strength because her touch always did make you fuzzy and light-heade, to cling onto her, while her eyes darted between your pretty lips that parted with such soft moans, and down where she watched her fingers disappear inside your cunt.

Your hand had caught her wrist quickly when her thrusts sped up just slightly, grinding yourself into her touch, your legs fell even weaker when she chuckled in your ear, her fingers still pumping in and out of you at a fast but gentle pace.

“Good, because it’s the only thing you’ll be screaming tonight”