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whocaresstillthelouvre · 9 months ago

Text

Golden Walkway

Pairing: Jackson Joel Miller x Female Reader (Reader is a teacher in Jackson, has long hair.) Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Summary: It’s your birthday, Joel takes you out to the Tipsy Bison, kisses (and does more to) you in the rain, and takes you home to give you a gift (it's sex, the gift is sex). Also, the thought of Joel spitting whiskey in someone's mouth happened and I had to write it out. 🤷🏼‍♀️ Warnings: smut, drinking, consent first, degradation second, followed by so much praise, hair pulling, spitting, Joel calls you a slut, fingering against a brick wall, F receiving oral, I watched that doggy style Narcos gif (for research) a lot, unprotected p in v, apocalypse birth control (pulling out), Joel’s canon age, Reader’s in her 30’s. Words: 4,300 A/N: Hi! Welcome to my first published fic. I'm currently working on a grander scale fic with these two, I hope to have the first chapter out within the next couple of weeks. I just really wanted to get this out there! Thanks for reading and a big thank you to @ohheypedrito for all of her help and also to our phones for not overheating when I send 40 texts at once with ideas for fics. Hope you enjoy, can't even blame the feralness of this on the full moon.

Edit: I posted the Masterlist for Elks, my work these two are included in.

***

“Was turning 21 as fun as they’d show in movies back then?” You’re cuddled in next to Joel on his couch sketching in your notebook while Joel reads a book about Native Americans that you found him. You always do this, a random question or thought to break the comfortable silence.

“Not for me, bought a 12 pack of Bud Light and split it on my porch with Tommy. Sarah was only a toddler then and I had work in the morning. Didn’t have the money or the time to go to a bar. ‘Course I don’t think a lotta people did anything the way they’d show in the movies.”

“I always wanted to have my 21st birthday at a bar, ya’ know? Wait until the clock strikes midnight and order a weird named shot.”

“Well, I reckon we could do that at the Bison tomorrow night. Might not be your 21st but I’ll get you whatever you want to drink, and the best part is you can drink before midnight.” Joel pulls you in closer and kisses your forehead, “What do you say, let me take you out for your birthday sweetheart.”

“Yes, please,” you sigh into his shoulder, “sounds amazing.”

“Wear that little blue dress I know you have hanging in your closet.”

The drinks flowing through you making you downright giddy, alcohol making you bolder, your body and your inhibitions becoming looser, your hands becoming addicted to touching Joel, first his leg, then his thigh, now his lower stomach, right at his waistband. You haven’t been this tipsy in a long time, your face feeling flushed and red more from your desire than any drink you’ve had tonight.

“You better knock that off before I take you outside in the rain and fuck you against the building, darling,” Joel huffs into your ear. His fiery warning massaging your neck causing your heart rate cooled by your inebriation to pick up.

“Sooo, keep going?” You slur back.

“If that’s what you really want,” Joel puts a forceful squeeze on your upper thigh, a layer of your dress laying between his skin and your skin. If you weren’t both sitting at the bar, and maybe in one of the more darker corners of the saloon you’d surely hike your skirt up and let him learn just how bad you want him.

It feels so good to let go with him, to giggle openly at his jokes, stare at his profile as he talks with a friend or two who stop by to say hello, or place your hand on his broad back just because you want to touch his soft blue denim shirt.

You watch as his tongue darts out and licks the leftover whiskey off his top lip, Joel’s movements becoming a little slower thanks to the amber liquid he’s been drinking all night. Some droplets glisten on his mustache, you fight every urge inside yourself to not lean over and lick them up.

“It’s what I want,” you respond as you move your hand back and forth across his waistband.

“Jesus Christ, I’m about ready to throw you over my shoulder and run home,” Joel says as he takes your hand into his and pulls it away.

“Not so fast. You told me you’d fuck me in the rain, that’s what I want for my birthday,” you whisper into his ear with a breathy giggle.

“Can’t fuck you out here in public. Small town ‘n all, but I’ll make you feel good,” Joel takes a last swig of his drink, puts the glass down and knocks his fist on the bar to let the bartender know you two are leaving. He leans forward and drawls into your ear, “Now finish your drink if you want me to show you just how happy of a birthday I can give you.”

You nod and gulp your drink down. You’re so wet, you don’t know if you’ve ever been this turned on before. Joel grabs your arm with the perfect amount of pressure, you’ve never been so happy to get outside into the pouring rain.

——

It’s absolutely storming outside, your footsteps sloshing in the puddles on the ground. The rain pelting your’s and Joel’s bodies as you walk through late night Jackson. It feels like you’re the only two people in the whole town as you make your way farther away from the bar. The bulbs of the string lights reflecting off the water gathering on the sidewalks making your path towards Joel’s house golden. You don’t rush, the two of you not scared away by the downpour, the drops cooling your burning skin. Joel turns down the street before his, pulling you behind one of the storage buildings, it’s darker back here, practically pitch black thanks to the rain clouds blocking the moon and the nearest light source being three buildings down. You’re pushed up against the brick, Joel’s hand gently cradling your head to block it from hitting the wall, he’s such a gentleman.

“Happy birthday baby, I need you to tell me you want this, ‘n you’re okay with this, I have plans for you and I need you to tell me you want it.” Joel instructs you, all you can see is his eyes and the faint lines of his facial hair, the rest of him camouflaged by the darkness surrounding the two of you.

“I want it, more than anything. Please,” your voice straining as you beg.

“Tell me you want me to have my way with you,” Joel speaks into your slack mouth as he rubs his arched nose against yours.

“I want you to have your way with me,” you moan against his wet shirt, “so bad.”

“Good girl, now, m’not gonna fuck you here, because I’m afraid I won’t be able to stop and I need to have you in my bed tonight.” Joel starts to move his hand down your body lifting the hem of your dress. “But, you are going to cum for me right here.” Joel captures your mouth with his. His hand starts to trace the outline of your panties, you mew out a cry as his fingers slip through and begin to pet you right where you ache the most. His hands are so big, his fingers so long and thick, always putting the right amount of pressure, moving the way you need him to move. Joel Miller is a capable man, everyone knows that, but nobody, except for you, knows just how capable he is.

Joel sticks a finger in you, though his finger is thick and feels so good, you need more to fill you.

“Another,” you instruct in between fevered kisses. Your pussy clenches as Joel pushes another finger in you. “Yessss,” you moan out against his lips.

“That’s my good girl, gotta get you stretched out f’me.” Joel begins to kiss his way down your chin and neck stopping at your chest, your hard nipples jutting through your wet dress. Joel takes one into his mouth, sucking the fabric and your tit deeper into his mouth. The sloppy wet sounds of Joel’s suctions making you want him more.

“Another finger,” you shudder out. “Three? You really want it tonight, don’t you?” Joel mumbles against your chest as he sticks a third finger in. It burns, it burns in the best way. You’re ready for him, it’s what you’ve been waiting for all night. You bite down on your lip as your legs begin to shake, Joel can tell you’re right on the edge and twists his fingers inside of you as he finger fucks you harder.

Your orgasm bursts forward your whole body going stiff as you try not to wail out into the night.

“That’s iiiiiit baby,” Joel pulls his fingers out of you and softly pets your pussy from hole to clit.

He removes his hand from between your legs bringing it up between the two of you resting his finger tips against your lips, you open your mouth and begin to lick. His tongue meeting yours as you both clean his thick digits covered in you. He takes his hand away leaving just your mouths to taste each other. His kiss turns tender, your kiss turns desperate.

Joel pulls away resting his forehead against yours. “My beautiful birthday girl. Let’s get you home, my gift’s not done.”

——

Your body practically chills with the promise of what is left to come. Joel grabs your hand and you take it depending on him to lead you to his home. Every step you take you feel your wet core heavy with lust, you’re soaked from the rain and from Joel, if you could drown like this, you would go down with the sinking ship. His house comes into view, your body tingling in anticipation at the site as the both of you speed your footsteps up in perfect agreement.

He throws open the gate, you’re following so close you almost trip on his heels making your way up the walkway and steps. He fumbles for his keys and unlocks the doors, you take the opportunity to run your hands all over his back and sides, rubbing the wet cloth of his shirt as it molds to his body. The door swings open and you both shuffle into his living room gasps escaping your mouths, both out of breath from your dash home and your mutual want for each other. You step out of your wet shoes and shake your hair out.

“Take your dress off, right now.” Joel huffs out as he tosses his keys on the console table and begins to kick his boots off.

You strip yourself of your baby blue frock as fast as you can. You’ve never had a reason to wear such a revealing piece of clothing. You don’t know why you held onto it, let alone grabbing it from the communal clothing rack, never thinking anything, or anyone, would be worthy enough for you to dress up for. Joel’s worthy, so worthy.

“Feel like I’m a little underdressed here…” your words grab Joel’s attention as he moves his hands up to his chest to begin to unbutton his denim shirt. He gets one button taken care of before he rips it open. Shame, it’s your favorite shirt, you'll have to fix it for him later. You watch as a button rolls underneath a table, before you can note where it lands, your attention turns back to Joel to find him stepping out of his jeans and underwear leaving him completely naked.

What a sight, what a fucking sight. There’s only a lamp on in the room, Joel’s body being cast in amber color and shadow, one side of him on full display glowing in the light, the other more difficult to discern. He moves forward stalking you. “Now I’m the underdressed one here. Take them off for me,” he says as he moves to pick up a bottle of whiskey from his shelf.

You follow his instructions shucking your underwear down your legs and leaving them pooled at your feet.

“Good girl,” Joel says as he begins to walk towards you unscrewing the lid off the bottle. He stands in front of you and takes a drink. “Open your mouth,” he orders as he grabs your hair and tips your head back. He takes another pull from the bottle, this time he raises his mouth over your mouth and begins to dribble drips of whiskey down from his mouth into yours. A moan raises from your throat, causing Joel to tighten his hold on your hair and arch your head back even more. He spits the rest of the whiskey straight into your mouth, you happily swallow his spit and liquor down. He unwinds his hands from your hair, takes another drink and kisses you, the whiskey and his tongue spilling into your mouth. Joel pulls back and takes his last swig before resting the bottle on the table. “Get upstairs.”

You don’t think you’ve ever run so fast in your life, tripping over your feet as you rush your way up, Joel’s naked form hunting you like prey up each step.

The sight of Joel’s bed brings a new wave of goosebumps to your skin.

“Bend over on the bed darlin,” Joel turns on a lamp in the corner and pulls it closer. “Need to lick and fuck you with my tongue.”

You move over to Joel’s side of the bed and bend forward, your ass sitting high in the air and your face in the sheets, you inhale the smell of Joel on his sheets. You swing your hips in giddy anticipation of what’s about to happen.

You feel his body lean over yours, his erection laying over your lumbar. “Okay baby, once again, need you to tell me you’re good with me having my way with your body,” he tempts into your ear.

“Fuck, y—yes, fuck, of course I am good. So good.”

“That’s my girl,” Joel’s heavy body lifting off of yours as he kneels between your legs. You feel his hot breaths on you where you’re aching for him the most, you widen your stance egging him on to touch you. “Look at you,” Joel licks your thigh, “so fuckin’ wet you’ve spilled out into your thighs.”

You scream a pleasured yell as Joel’s teeth bite down into the flesh of your thigh and sucks your skin into his mouth. The pain is perfect. He loosens his bite, kissing and licking the spot, the sensation making your body quiver.

“Okay baby?”

“Y-y-yessss,” you answer.

“Whaddo you need sweetheart?”

“Lick me,” you beg out, “please.”

“‘Course. Where do you want me to lick you?” Joel questions as he nuzzles his head against your ass cheek, giving it a small bite.

“My pussy. Pleeeaaase,” you’d say you sound pathetic but you couldn’t care less, your lust overshadowing any type of pride.

“Mm, you sound so needy baby, you sound like you really need my tongue on you, huh?” His teasing drawl drives you crazy, your body won’t stop moving, absolutely radiating tensity from your want.

“Please,” you implore, sobbing out.

“Alright baby,” his hands grab your cheeks and spreads them, widening his view of you. “Prettiest thing I ever seen, love your pussy.”

This act feels so depraved, everything on display for him, legs and cheeks spread wide, your pussy exhibited for him like it’s an art piece.

You literally scream into the bed, biting down on Joel’s comforter as his tongue finally meets your core. This, thiiiiiiis is what you’ve been wanting all night. Joel moans against you, not being able to hold himself back as he tastes you, his fevered licks exploring your cunt, his large tongue mapping every inch of you. He’s absolutely conquering you, the noises of his lips and tongue smacking against your wetness soundtracking his journey.

He can feel you getting close your hips beginning to cant as your orgasm begins to crest. You knew it wouldn’t take long, between the alcohol buzz and Joel’s tongue lapping up your wetness and cum from earlier, you knew you’d be a goner.

“Mmf, cum for me,” Joel speaks against you, his mouth full of you, too busy to pull away to clearly speak. You don’t think he can get any closer to you, his tongue working your orgasm up in intensity with each swirl and dash against your clit. You feel it, it’s here. Your legs instantly collapse, thankful that the rest of your body is resting on the bed. Your eyes tightly squeeze shut and then begin to rapidly blink as your orgasm shatters through you. Joel flattens his tongue against your clit as it pulses. You’re too turned on to make a noise, Joel stepping in for you and groaning as your juices seep out of you.

“Did so good baby,” Joel says leaving one last kiss on your clit before standing up behind you. You want to flip over to look at him, you haven’t seen his face since you laid down on the bed. You have no energy, you’re just a shell of a woman, the only sensations you can feel is the pool of wetness in between your legs and your light inebriation.

Your attention gets pulled to the sound of Joel spitting in his hand, followed by a hiss coming out of his mouth. When you realize exactly what he’s doing, you summon the strength needed to turn over. You flip over, your back thudding on the mattress your legs still spread wide, feet resting on the floor. And there…. there…. THERE he is, standing in the middle of his room, one large hand wrapped around his hard cock softly stroking as he watches you with hooded eyes. You know you just came, but the sight makes your pussy clench with desire.

Joel jerks himself off as his eyes roam your exhausted form. “Been thinking ‘bout this all day. You all laid out in front of me heaving for air after cummin’ all over my tongue,” slow strokes matching his lazing words. “Just about canceled our night out when you opened your door in that little blue dress, looked like you were wearing the sky, baby.”

You bite your lip as all of your senses are so overtly overwhelmed by lust. The sight of Joel’s handsome face watching you, the hazel flecks in his eyes twinkling in the golden light of the lamp. The smell of the rain on your skin mixed with the heady scent of your arousal and Joel’s sheets. The taste of Joel’s whiskey tongue still in your mouth. The sound of Joel’s fist pumping along his hard cock. The feel of the aftershocks of your orgasm still quaking your body. It’s so fucking much, you need Joel inside you. The thought of feeling him stretch you causes a whimper.

“Yeah baby? Havin’ a hard time over there?” Joel stops stroking his hard length, his hand pauses on his shaft. “You want me to fuck you now?”

“Pleeeease,” you keen out.

“Alright sweetheart.” Joel confidently strides over to you, dick still in hand. He stops right at the edge of your feet. “Turn back around ’n get on all fours in the middle of the bed f’me.”

You follow his instructions eager to please. The sooner you get this done, the sooner you can feel Joel enter you.

“Good girl,” he praises as the mattress dips lower with his weight behind you.

Your heart is pounding so loud, your whole body thrumming, you gulp down a breath of air trying to calm your need. You feel Joel’s cock brush against your ass cheek, he’s so close to fucking you.

“Sweetheart, I’m gonna fuck you real good and hard now. Happy birthday baby.”

And just like that, Joel buries his cock inside of you, you’re absolutely stretched around him. Your clit already worked over by Joel’s tongue, now your hole deliciously stinging while it flutters around his cock. He begins thrusting, tender and slow full strokes. Entering and exiting, swirling the head of his cock right at the entrance before plunging back in because he knows you love the feeling. Joel’s groans and your cries join in song as he begins to pound faster, the sound of your bodies slapping together match the rhythm.

“Feel so fucking good, always so perfect for me. S’a good girl, always take it so good,” Joel grits out.

He grabs your hair and wraps it around his fist as he pounds into you. “No one knows how fucking slutty you get for me behind these walls. They think you’re one of those innocent little teachers.” Joel pulls your hair harder causing a scream of ecstasy from you. “You love this, don’t you?”

You do. It’s so rough, so different from how gentle he always is with you. It feels like a luxury to be treated this way by him.

“Y-y-y-yes, God I love it,” you whimper.

“That’s right. That’s what I like to hear. So pretty so smart. So much smarter than me, now I’m makin’ you stupid with my cock, right baby?”

Everybody knows Joel Miller as the strong, silent type, a man of few words, somebody who doesn’t do chit chat. But with you in his bed naked and wailing as he slams into you, Joel Miller won’t shut up.

“Doin’ so good for me. So pretty, so perfect f’me. So wet for me.”

“You made me so wet earlier, I was afraid I was going to leave a mark on the barstool.” Your words coming out as tortured weeps, so lost in your ecstasy you struggle with every word spoken.

“Fuuuuuck.” That got him good. He pounds you even harder, the bed frame shaking violently against his wall, your body and cunt acting as if it’s the only barrier between Joel knocking a hole in the plaster. “Had I fuckin’ known I would have made you stick your face on that chair and made you lick yourself up as I fuck you against it.”

That’s it, that’s the hottest thing you’ve ever heard. Joel’s deep timbered accent grunting those deviant words as he grabs you and begins to roll his hips into your cunt. Your body is strung so tight and rigid in all places besides your hips and core, pumping and rolling along with Joel’s as he fucks you. You’re close again, your panting breaths letting Joel know.

“Baby, if you gotta cum, cum,” his grip on your hips pressure into you.

“Going … going.. going to,” the only words you can say as your third orgasm radiates out of your body, your pussy is the epicenter, tingles firing through your veins, your hands fisting the blankets at your detonation. Slack jawed and fucked senseless you rally the strength to not disintegrate and fall into Joel’s bed. Your world has been shattered by Joel, but your body survives for him, your legs and arms shaking under gravity and your weight as they deal with the fallout.

“C’mere baby, lemme help you.” Of course he can tell you’re struggling. He reaches his hands around, clutching your stomach and pulling you up against him. Your back up against his chest, his hand seeking out your breast, the other wrapping around your torso and clutching you to him. He holds you as he fucks into you, his nose brushing against your ear as he puffs and grunts against your neck. “Fucking. Love. You. So. Much.” Each word matching a thrust into you. Your hands find his and grip them, you’ve never felt more loved and protected. Joel Miller has got you.

You feel the familiar shudder in Joel’s movements as he edges close to his climax. His labored breaths getting louder and more fevered against your neck. You’re absolutely wrecked, but the angle of Joel’s cock inside of you mixed with the feeling of the shudder in his movements as he edges himself brings forth another orgasm. Words are gone, just sounds, whatever your throat can muster up and out of your mouth.

“That’s it, that’s it, that’s it,” Joel repeats. His hands squeezing yours so tightly, his chest heaving against your back, his strong thighs straddling yours, his nose pressing into your ear. You feel his body tense as he pulls out. His release coating your pussy as his whole body surrounds you. Hot breaths huffing against the side of your face in between featherlight kisses. “Love you,” a whisper in your ear so delicate and sweet as he lets go of your hands. Your body falling forward without his support, your arms catching you before crashing down on the bed. Joel gets up with a groan as you lay yourself down on your stomach, taking the opportunity to stretch your legs out before rolling over on your side to watch Joel. He stands arms akimbo in the middle of the room. He’d look like a Greek statue if his shoulders weren’t rising and falling rapidly as he catches his breath. He’s gorgeous and he looks just as wrecked as you feel.

“Probably shouldn’t have gotten up as quick as I did,” he chuckles. “Damn well feel like I’m standing in the middle of a earthquake.” You love the casual banter he puts forth seconds after being deep inside you, his cum still covering your core. This is love.

You smile at him, your cheek resting on your hand as a makeshift pillow. You’re exhausted… the whole night and your four orgasms catching up with you. Eyes feeling heavy, matching your limbs you begin to drift off.

A wet sensation in between your legs jerks you awake. “Sorry baby, just want to clean you up,” a whisper just as light as Joel’s tender attention as he washes you lulls you back to sleep.

——

“Baby,” Joel’s low voice gently wakes you up along with a soft kiss to your forehead.

You groan as you stretch your sore muscles under the sheet, opening your eyes to find Joel gazing down lovingly at you. He’s backlit by the filtered morning sunlight shining in through his bedroom windows. What a way to wake up. “Happy birthday sweetheart, I’d let you sleep all day but I need to give you my present.” His face is so bright and cheerful, a boost in your confidence provided by just how happy he looks when he’s with you.

“Thought you gave me your present already last night,” you yawn.

“Sweet girl, that was a present for both of us. Now come on, get up.” You grab his offered hand and reluctantly get out of bed. Joel wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug, his hands splayed across your back as you nuzzle your face in his warm chest. “Happy birthday.”

A/N: THANK YOU for reading my first ever fic. My inbox is always open. :)

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mandy-asimp · 6 months ago

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Needed me

Emily Prentiss x fashion designer!reader (they/them)

Warnings: angst, fluff, happy ending

A/n: they dragging babygirl through hell this season 😔

"I'm sorry, but she is not my responsibility anymore. I can't be there to tell her it's going to be ok when she couldn't do that for me." They grumbled as they sat across from Rossi.

He sighed, "she's dealing with a lot."

"And I wasn't?" They didn't let him get further. "I get that you all are going to support her, she's your teammate. But you all didn't know her as your fiancé. The absolute love of your life who for the love of fucks, left you at your lowest."

The old man wasn't going to give up. He believed that there was still apart of them that would cave. "Y/n, you know I wouldn't have flown out here if I didn't think it was serious. She needs you."

It was them who sighed now. Standing up from the table. Leaning across to kiss the old man's cheek. "I'm sorry Dave. Unless she is at the point of tears and just giving up, I will not be roped back into it. Not again. I deserve better. I'll see you around."

And they were off. They never looked back to that table, knowing they were too close to facing...but they couldn't help but wonder what was so bad. Then there was what she did, how it flashed so quickly.

She came home that day to find her fiancé in tears. Body racking with sobs. "Babe? Baby what's wrong?" She was quick to drop her stuff and come crouch in front of her.

"Everything I've worked for it's gone." They got out between wiping away tears that seemed to never end.

Emily frowned, "what? Y/n, what happened?" She was trying to think of anything this bad. Had they been told bad news? Something someone said?

They picked up their phone and with shaky hands pulled up the news, a video of a burnt down building. "The studio...everything in it. All of it...this sets everything back..." they calmed their sobs to hiccups and a few more tears. "I'm absolutely ruined. This was supposed to be it. This was the break I was gonna get and then actually get to enter the real fashion world. I was going to go somewhere and I was going to make it," they spewed out so many worries. Mentions of how much time they'll need to restart, how this was the such an important thing.

Emily though, she froze up. There was so much happening she didn't know what to do. She's never witness them spiral out before. Within the four years, they knew how to keep themselves calm. Even if they couldn't, it's never been this intense. It scared her.

She knew it was a reasonable response to what had happened. Their entire future just went up into a crisp. Everything in her wanted to try and comfort them, truly she wanted to figure it out together.

Yet, the few bricks of the wall she'd built had more impact. She fell back behind it and regretted her next choice before it even happened. After that, Emily swore she blacked out because when she realized what happened, she was in a hotel room alone.

Y/n was just as shocked. The woman they were about to confess their undying love to just walked out. Not a single word said, but just gone. Even when they tried to ask questions, she gave them nothing.

For an entire week, Emily didn't try to reach out or fix anything. Instead she read every text that came through. Even the one that said all her shit would be on the curb for her. The one that set in what she did was calling off the wedding.

That was only a few years ago. The two had completely moved on, or at least Y/n tried to. Never wanting to look back on how much pain was caused, but apart of them wouldn't let themselves fall in love again.

But here they were. Sitting in the apartment, trying to sketch their next line, and only being able to think of Emily. Rossi came and he wouldn't have if it was serious. If they were to go to her, it would be unwrapping the bandages on a wound that hasn't been fully healed.

"No. You are stronger than this." They whispered to themselves. Staring at the sketchbook once again.

If they did...there would be a chance for closure. It would be nice to know why she ran. Why she couldn't just stick it out. They would've been the most badass couple. The FBI unit chief and a famous designer.

If they did...they would get the chance to finally express their anger. But it wouldn't be the right time if she's suffering. How is she suffering? What is going through her mind?

"Fuck." They shouted before getting up. Heading into their room to start packing a suitcase. Dialing Dave at the same time.

"Rossi"

"When are you flying back to Virginia?"

"I'll have the car there in ten. Thank you Y/n."

The call ended quickly, and Y/n was left to grumble. "Oh thank you Y/n! Thank you for having to be the damn adult once again. Thank you for willingly putting yourself through hell for her!" They had a nasty taste on their tongue as they spoke. It's honestly what silenced them.

Throwing a few outfits into a suitcase with the basic needs, they zipped it and began to pack a second bag. Grabbing everything needed to continue working on their summer line. This was done more carefully, with more precision on where everything went in.

Their eyes scanned over the packed bag, making sure everything was in there right. Right before Dave texted the car was out front.

One more sigh was let out before the apartment was locked up. The start of what might be either the biggest, or best choice made.

Emily was in her office. She was lost. She was loosing her mind over this case. Her wack-ass neighbor had hit a nerve she would've never expected.

It was just a mess now. Whoever was behind all this was winning and she couldn't figure it out. She was just fucked.

"Hey...how bad?" Rossi had popped into the room. Watching as the woman pulled out a box of cigarettes and lit one. "That bad?"

"Restricted duty until they see fit, so the BAU is yours." She tried to act calm, trying to keep it together infront of him.

Rossi huffed, "I don't want it. I'm not fit for it."

Emily pinched her nose. "None of us are! Hell! Me most of all. I need you to step up here Dave." She just needed him to make this easier.

"There has to be something?"

"This is happening." She shook her head and turned her back, her purse being a lame excuse for a distraction . The walls couldn't stay up as she felt herself begin to crumble.

A soft hand on her back made her gasp. She expected to turn and see Rossi, someone who she could only go so far with. Yet, her eyes were met with Y/n. She couldn't help it. Her legs gave out as she just sobbed into their chest on the floor.

It killed Y/n to see her like this. Emily was known for her tough demeanor and being able to keep it together at work. But that's what the team knew. Y/n knew her as their fiancé. They saw her breakdown at least once a month from the case build ups.

This however, Y/n could tell this was months on months of a build up. This was a low point, one that they would be there for.

It was half an hour before Emily could get out anything. Her brown eyes, wide and glassy, looked up to them. "What are you doing here?" Her voice was weak and defeated.

"I was told you needed me." Was all Y/n answered with. Naturally, their thumb wiped away the tears. "Why don't you sit on the couch and I'll make you some tea, hmm? Then you can tell me what's got you so...low."

The older got up and moved towards the couch. Y/n leaving the room to make the drink, remembering how Emily liked it like it was their own preferred. Within five minutes they were back and handing over the tea.

They stood, leaning against the desk. "Was it Brian again?"

"How did you...?" The question trailed off as Emily took her first sip. Trying to not let the warm feeling rush through her. They remembered her tea flawlessly.

Y/n glanced out the window, "I saw him lingering on the way in." Emily laughed a little at that. "But really....are you ok?"

"I've failed as a team leader. This job has corrupted me into breaking laws and lying to my team. I'm chasing with nothing but a conspiracy theory. I sounded crazy to the biggest conspiracy theorist in Virginia. I've been benched because of him. I just...I don't know what to do anymore." She so easily confessed. Her head falling into her hands for what felt like the millionth time today. "This can't be how I go out."

Internally, Y/n battled with going over there and holding her or keeping this distance. It put them back once again. They wouldn't be able to live with themselves if they did what she did, it just wouldn't make anything right. So they went over and held her again. This time placing an understanding kiss to her temple.

"It's not. I mean, it will be if you let it. And trust me when I tell you, you're going to want to let it. But that's not Emily Prentiss. She has been through so much worse than some theorist. This will be a fresh start. A chance to start anew. You will take it, and you will figure out this case. You will get your guy or whatever you call it, unsub? This is not your lowest. It's gonna feel like it, but it's just a low before the high. It's all going to be ok." They spoke from their heart. Even as it ached to be back in this position. Even as tears fell from their own eyes.

They were sharing her pain without wanting to, but needing to. Needing to let her know this wasn't it. Needing to let her know that someone was her to share her burdens again.

For the first time, both felt connected entirely. Beating with one heart. Thinking with one mind. Feeling with one body.

That night they had fallen asleep on the couch in her office. Holding onto one another like it would all go away as long as they were together.

Y/n had woken randomly, searching for any source of time. Rubbing their eyes as it was two in the morning. Emily didn't have to be back her till at least eight. They let their eyes fall to Emily. How she seemed so peaceful lying on top of them. She needed this more than Y/n had thought.

So, without much debate, Y/n was carrying the sleeping beauty and her bags out. Doing everything to prevent her from waking, which wasn't hard as she was out cold.

They drove in silence back to where they were staying. Knowing that if it came to it, they could drive to get her an outfit. The silence gave them time to really think. What were they doing? This is the exact opposite of what they were expecting.

Was Emily going to easily fit her way right back? It wouldn't be fair. She caused them the pain and yet they still love her. They would, without a doubt, let her as well. All she had to do was ask. It was just unfair, and they were going to live with it.

Emily stirred in the nice duvet. Confused as it wasn't hers and far too nice to be a hotel. She knew this duvet. She slept in it many times before.

"The coffee is being made. And breakfast is on the way." That voice she missed hearing in the morning.

She hummed while stretching, "how long have you been up?" She finally opened her eyes and seeing Y/n in sweats and a baby tee. Their casual lounge wear.

"Since maybe five. These sketches don't finish themselves unfortunately." They sat down at the desk that was perfectly illuminated by the sun at anytime of the day. "Oh, also your team is coming here tonight. You're taking the day according to Dave. He said it's his order and you should follow it."

"Why are they coming here?" She swung her feet out the bed. Her head turning to take in the room. "You kept your apartment here? What about living in New York?"

"My home in New York makes this look like a doll house. Smallest is the home in California. I move with the seasons." They simply explained. Frowning when Emily laughed.

"You're such a snob. Three houses? Really?" She got up and came to look at the sketches. Not saying anything as Y/n just began sketching again.

She couldn't help but stare at them. They made that concentration face still. Where the creativity would float in their eyes as the rest of their face was resting.

Y/n could feel her eyes on them. It wasn't anything out of their routine. Oh how they fell so easily into the routines.

"I'm a big fashion designer. I'm constantly doing something somewhere else. It's like you, Ms. FBI. Always away doing something," they hummed. Never once did they look up to her, they seemed to be battling the inevitable.

Emily didn't say anything, she just took in the sketches one more time and was off to the bathroom.

Both in their own thoughts and silence. Neither one knowing how to approach the situation of each other. Emily not knowing how to go about work. Y/n not knowing how to go about the designs. There were many thoughts floating in the air.

They let the silence stay around as they waited for breakfast to show up. Emily still clueless on why the team was coming. And she could've asked, but the thrill of a surprise put together by Y/n seemed to make her against it.

Y/n had been trying to sketch within the silence, but knowing Emily was only a few feet away made it hard.

"Babe! I'm home!" She called into the apartment. Noting how quiet it was. "Y/n? Are you even here?" A text saying 'study' came through, leading her through the quiet home.

When she pushed open the door, she found several mannequins with different outfits all lined up. "Isn't it beautiful?" Y/n hummed from the table of gems. They seemed to have been hand sewing each one on.

"Stunning. You didn't have all this done before I left?" Emily came to get a closer look. Being able to see the glimmer of proudness in Y/n's eyes. "What's it inspired by?"

Y/n didn't answer, instead just took int their work. Each outfit was inspired by their favorite memory with Emily. Between outfits they wore that night, or how they felt in the moment. The line was a collection of their love.

"Alrighty, leave me in the dark till it's released. Are you hungry? I imagine you've been to busy working to eat?" Emily left, getting comfortable.

Y/n looked over the sketches one more time. Sighing and dropping their head with a loud bump. They hadn't struggled this hard with sketches since when the two had first split.

They pushed up from their spot and headed into the kitchen. Rubbing their eyes to try and see anything clearly. They lost focus as they stared at the working coffee pot. This trip was already off on a different path than they wanted.

"If you want...I can leave." Emily's voice broke into the silent kitchen. Her head hung low and her hands picking at each other. She looked out the window briefly, bracing herself to meet the others stare.

Only, it wasn't on her. Instead Y/n moved around to get coffee, their back to the woman. "If you want to, I can drive you. But by no means are you gonna get kicked out." Two mugs got pulled down. They were matching ones Emily had gotten for them once upon a time ago.

They frowned to the memories of both mugs. There was a moment with a sigh. They forgot how much they avoided coming here and how they left everything almost the same.

The coffee was poured and the mug was handed over. Now they met each other's eyes. Emily wearing a frown as Y/n tried to keep their shit together.

"Unfortunately for me and fortunately for you, I couldn't kick you out even if you stabbed me. But I wouldn't try, we both have too much to loose for that." Y/n kept their distance still. Eyes either on Emily or anywhere else in the house. It was getting quiet again and it wasn't enjoyable. They rubbed their eyes again, "I need to get back to work. Feel free to make yourself comfortable but not too loud."

They were off and back in their study before Emily could even get anything out. "What about breakfast?" She called out and after, following herself.

Y/n flipped over their phone, "it's about ten minutes away." Their voice was cold and stale. Short of the comforting Emily had heard last night.

It confused her. "You are so confusing." She mumbled. Her head shaking just a bit at the cold demeanor.

"Funny coming from you." Y/n shot back almost instantly. A nasty taste washing over their tongue again. They sucked their tooth before turning around. Eyes immediately locking Emily in. "If this is confusing for you, let me tell you what's confusing for me. The fact that when my entire future burnt into literal crisps, the only thing you, my fiancé at the time, quite literally walked out and said nothing. For a week you then ghost me, mind you I was the one you were marrying in less than a month, and then after years of not looking back, David Rossi shows up. You know what THE David Rossi asked me? To come help you. And here I am, trying my absolute best to keep my shit together so you don't have to worry about another thing. Because you know what Emily? I care for you enough to be there for you." They spewed everything out, hands being thrown around in dramatics as their chest heaved.

Emily was too stunned to speak. What was she to say? Y/n was right. She left when they needed her the most and left without a word. And yet, here they were giving her nothing but what they always have, love.

"I'm sorry," was all that she could manage.

They only scoffed, "whatever. Breakfast is almost here." Y/n shook their head and sat back down at the desk. "You can put my food in the fridge."

"Y/n..." Emily sounded broken, even more than last night. It killed Y/n, but they deserved their reason, and she knew that.

Cautiously, she moved in closer. Coming to Y/n's left and sitting down on the floor. Her knees bent just enough to rest her arms on.

"I panicked...I had never seen you break down like that before..I didn't know how to respond and I just fell behind a wall and did what I always did..I ran from it instead of facing it. And it wasn't fair to you. I truly have no excuse for what I did, except I was a coward." She spoke quietly into the air. Feeling tears prick her eyes as the feeling of guilt and embarrassment kicked her hard. "I only can say sorry, and I say it knowing it will never be enough to make up for all of the pain I may have caused you."

Both had taken the next moment to sit in silence and process everything. Y/n had tears falling from the moment Emily had sat down next to them. Emily had let her tears fall once she finished.

A few beats had passed and Y/n had let their hand fall to Emily's head. Sliding to her cheek as she looked up. "You Emily Prentiss, have caused more pain than I can bring up again. And I hope you have learned from it. I hope you didn't do it to anyone else and you won't do it to anyone else." They had this frown she had never seen, one she knew she had caused.

"I'm so sorry Y/n.." she quietly cried leaning into the touch. Feeling the warmth of the designers hands. "I'm so sorry."

"I know," they hummed as tears fell down their rosy cheeks. "I know you are."

Hours had gone by. Filled with nothing but tears and sniffles. Emily had moved from the floor when she began sobbing, into Y/n's lap. Her face buried into their neck as they shushed her to asleep.

Y/n had tucked her back into bed and continued to work on the designs. Pulling out the old sketches from their scrapped line. Staring over each outfit that was designed after their love.

The mannequins were in the studio, locked in a specific room. They questioned if now was the right time to bring them all back out. If it was, they knew it was ready to be launched, giving them more time on the line that sat unfinished.

They picked up their phone, "Jackie? I need you and Joana to bring me Project L.E.P. The key is in my desk, bottom left drawer, hidden under her picture, tied with a red ribbon. It's hard to miss, the ribbon has L.E.P in gold on the end."

"Are we launching it?!" The assistant grew overly excited. "Oh! Y/n you have no idea how wonderful this is!"

"Is that Y/n?" The other assistant, Joana came into the room.

Y/n assumed Jackie nodded, "yes! They want us to bring L.E.P to their home."

"They're launching it? But then that would mean Em- Oh my God!" The phone was snatched and it was Joana now. "Did you guys talk?! I want to know everything! How did you lay it down?!"

"Joana." Y/n simply cut the assistant from bombarding with questions. "When I see you, I will answer your questions. I need that line, bring the truck with them all. We're going to review them."

"Yes boss!" They both said before hanging up. Y/n knew they were geeking out in the studio at this point.

They assumed it would be at least half an hour before the two got there. Giving enough time to finally take a well needed break and eat something.

While they warmed up the breakfast, Emily had stirred awake. She laid in the bed, taking in the familiar smell of Y/n's shampoo on the pillows. She began to think over everything they had said.

They said it was unfortunate that they couldn't kick her out even if they wanted to. What did that truly mean?

Emily realized, they've already gone through the hardest conversation, this one would be nothing. She swung the covers over and began to look for Y/n. Checking the study first.

Her curiosity for the better of her. She came close to the desk, looking over the designs. There were a few that had yet to be finished, and then there was one in red that really caught her eye. She picked it up, scanning over the paper and realizing she's seen it before. On the bottom had L.E.P written in gold. Emily couldn't place where she's seen it, but she knew for a fact she had.

Placing it down, she left to the kitchen next. Finding Y/n dancing slightly to their own tune. She watched as they prepared their food before acknowledging her entrance.

"Would you like yours as well? I can heat it up?" They offered without even looking over before grabbing the second meal. "How'd you sleep?"

"Good...I do have a question though," she came in closer. Leaning against the counter while staying out the way. Y/n looked over, showing she had their attention. "When you said..."

"I meant it." They knew her thoughts better than anyone. Emily swore in another life they were either a profiler, or a mind reader. "If you want to stay, I'm not going to stop you. If you want to leave, I will drive you. I'm here because you needed me, and I think....apart of me still needed you. If I wanted to be over you, I would've been. I know I would've been. I would've cleaned out everything that ties to you, but I didn't."

"When we ended...I thought that everything was going to go to shit. My career was caught in a fire, my relationship was ending, and I began to spiral. I began to just accept that this was how I was going out. Would never be a big fashion designer, never have a love life, nothing to live for....but I thought of it as letting you win without a fight. And that wasn't how I wanted you to win."

"I don't deserve you," she had whispered. Her head tilting and her silver waves fell to the side.

It was the first time Y/n had actually taken her in entirely. How she aged and yet was still the most beautiful woman they had ever come across. It made them want to just kiss her and tell her that she was welcomed home always.

"And yet...you have me." They sighed, hand coming to cup her cheek. "And maybe thats why I've been so confusing. Because I'm supposed to be mad at you, I really really want to..but anytime I try to, this nasty taste fills my mouth. Like I don't mean anything bad I try and say. And I don't."

"Y/n..." she furrowed her brows. This was more confessing than she had expected. "You don't have to tell me anything-"

"Damn it Emily," they groaned. "I'm not telling you this because I think you need it, I'm telling yo this because I need it. I'm being selfish. I'm loosing my shit with you just standing here. Do you know how easy it is for you to walk right back into my life? When I said I was going to love you forever, I meant it. I meant it with everything then. And I'm going to mean it with everything now." They had their own tears now. Finally caving into the painful feeling of being in love.

Emily was stunned, but she wasn't going to miss her second chance. She pulled Y/n in by the pockets of their sweats, standing on her tip-toes to meet their lips in a passionate kiss.

They both felt airy as they got lost in the feeling of home. Holding each other so impossibly close that it was undeniable they were staying together.

Once they pulled apart they just stared at the other. Both trying to find some answer to what they were feeling. Was there anything to say now?

Y/n came out the trance first, a smile gracing their lips. "Why don't we eat? Jackie and Joana are gonna be here soon and will probably want to question us."

"What are they bringing you?" She held Y/n there for a little longer. Enjoying the closeness and safeness. "Fabrics?"

"Project L.E.P." Was all they answered before heating up the other box of food. "I think I'll release it before the one I'm working on now."

Emily watched them move, "what does the L.E.P mean?"

Y/n was quick to shrug. "It's just the name that Jackie and Joana gave it." They dismissed the topic. Eyes trained to the microwave as it counted down the minute. But the small smirk they held told her they knew exactly what it meant. "I got you your usual."

They handed over the box and the two prepped before heading to the couch. Sitting knee to knee as they ate and watched whatever was on.

It was an enjoyable moment, and one Y/n would remember. And that's when the next line came to them. They tried to be subtle to finish up their food before rushing into the study. They grabbed a sticky note, it was red, and they scribbled on it before slapping it against the window.

Soon designs started to be taped up to the windows. The evening sun peaking through the papers. The ideas began to flow and make sense again. They felt relieved at the feeling.

The front door had opened, and the two assistance were quickly to make their presences known.

"Oh my! Y/n! You dog!" Jackie's voice filled the entire apartment at the sight of Emily. Her head snapped to Joana. "This is so not real!"

Y/n forgot how young her assistance were compared to them. They walked out shaking their head. "How many mannequins did you bring?"

"We figured you still had six here, we actually know you do because you never returned them. So we brought the other six. Then each piece is stored in its own bag and box." They stood tall and in line. "We just need to grab everything."

"Well let's get to it. Six mannequins and twelve boxes are not getting up here that easily. Em, you'll stay up here and make the trips from the elevator back. Joana you'll be on elevator duty. Jackie you're unloading and I'll carry everything to the elevator."

It was the perfect team work. And within no time they had everything upstairs and the three were working on setting them up facing the window. Emily, having no hand in sewing or fashion just watched the three move in harmony.

Joana and Jackie worked to just get the outfits on the mannequins as Y/n did touch ups. They worked until the night fell. And it was perfect.

"Y/n you've outdone yourself still. Are we really ready to release project L.E.P?" Joana walked around the designs and took in every seeming detail. "Truly a genius."

Y/n had a glimmer of pride in their eyes. "Yeah. I think it's time." They only broke away to look at Emily who sat on the couch. "What do you think?"

She had dropped her gaze to look at the twelve outfits. "They're absolutely beautiful. They have been since when you first had them all laid out." She stood to come next to them. "Are you ready to release them?"

Y/n inhaled with a smile, exhaling their worries. "Yeah." They grabbed Emily's hand. "I am ready." They were confident.

"So...what are you gonna call it?" Emily went closer to examine the detail as well. The room was silent as everyone thought of something.

Jackie hummed, "mmm what if we keep L.E.P?" She threw out. "It holds meaning, it's cute, it's secretive, secretive is sexy."

"L.E.P in gold writing, your writing. We tease it with close up pictures first. Then we host a big launch party and have them all come out on a runway." Joana began to plan everything out. Already seeing a vision.

"But what is L.E.P?" Emily butted in. Getting silence and all eyes on Y/n, who was looking down to Emily.

"Loving Emily Prentiss," they only could smile even kinder at the reveal. "It'll be the start of a collection. The E.P collection. It's bright, it's new, it's warm and giving. That's how it'll start."

The doorbell had rang. "That must be your team. You two are dismissed. Thank you for the help today. Start your magic and fill me in in the morning. Love you both," they bowed their head. Watching as the two assistants began to pack up.

"Um, Y/n? I have nothing to wear?" Emily glanced down at the big t-shirt and sleep shorts.

"Your outfit was laid out on the bed before we even started touch ups. You go change and I'll greet everyone." Y/n shooed as they moved to the door. Opening and being greeted first with Dave.

"How is she?" He placed a kiss to their cheek before leading everyone in. They all seemed worried at first.

"She's better today. And that's what matters." They hummed. Moving towards the kitchen to begin cooking for everyone.

Stopping at the instant gasp and whispers. The team had seen the designs lined up. "Wait..your the Y/n? Like designer Y/n?" Penelope stared in awe at the outfits.

"Guilty. That's the next line. I guess a sneak peak." They shrugged, smiling as Dave began to prep to help cook. "You can get close, everything is set in stone at this point."

Just then Emily had walked out in a one-of-one dress. Y/n had designed it and worked the first night to make it for her. Telling themselves that it was either a goodbye gift or a welcome home gift.

She looked stunning, and Y/n could take their eyes off of her. Their best model walked into and began to get wine glasses down.

"Emily, you never mentioned Y/n was a fashion designer?!" Penelope was still caught on the fact. Earning a laugh from Y/n.

"Ouch, four years and almost married and you didn't tell them about my job?" They came near Emily, crouching next to her to get out some seasonings.

Emily looked down to them, taking in the moment of being taller for once. "She would've flipped out. I also figured she would've down a background check on you without my knowing." Both glancing to the bubbly woman.

"I...I didn't because I wanted to respect her boundaries." She got out, looking to everyone else who seemed to have knowing looks. "Don't tell me..."

"We all...kinda knew." Tara broke the news, hugging the friend as the look of betrayal washed over her.

Y/n had shrugged from their spot. "I had no part in this." They cleared their name.

That night the team had laughed, eaten, drank a few bottles of wines, and enjoyed a nice round of desserts.

A few months has passed and Emily and Y/n began to work things out. She appreciated Y/n's efforts as well even with all the press and media.

There had been an article that really stood out.

And why did you name it L.E.P?

Well....when I had made it I was with this amazing woman. Each piece was meant to represent a moment of our relationship.

And why are you just now releasing it?

We had honestly gotten into a fight a month or so before our wedding. We ended up splitting and I just couldn't come to scrap it. So I locked it into a room until now.

And what made you choose now?

Because she needed me and I realized I would always need her. And this is my gift to her. A token of my love with what I was meant to be doing. Fashion. And what better way than to express love through fashion?

Emily had came over and smothered Y/n with all the love she could after reading that. It made her look at the entire line differently and hold it near to her heart just as well.

They laid next to each other in bed, just staring and having a wordless conversation. But Emily could see it written on Y/n's face. They loved her. And that made her see everything worth fighting for.

"I love you." She had whispered before realizing.

Y/n smiled. "I know." They switched to a cocky smile. Pulling her closer by the waist and bending her just slightly back. "And I love you too. Always will."

They shared one of their most passionate kisses that night. It sparked a new sense of love. Mature, mannered, and workable. As long as they had each other, it would always be workable.

#reader insert #fanfic #criminal minds #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #x y/n #criminal minds evolution

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ar-cadez · 4 months ago

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Count Duckula Fan Rewrite!!

Recently I’ve been working on a Count Duckula rewrite that aims to give it a slightly more serious tone and semi-serialized story like many modern cartoons! It took some time, but I made redesigns of the main cast. I had fun making this project and I REALLY hope you do too! Because I’m extremely nervous that the small fan base Count Duckula does have will hate this

I haven’t actually finished the show btw so if there’s an antagonist or smth that shows up later I should’ve redesigned.. lmk! I’m open to suggestions I really like this show..

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Basic Concept

Practically the same as the original show! There is a long line of reincarnations of a wicked vampire duck named Count Duckula, the most recent reincarnation went wrong and now the current Count is a vegetarian and much more interested in becoming famous than being evil.

Some major differences include the tone and story structure, being semi-serialized and having more serious arcs mixed in with the antics, along with a lot of changes in characterization. A big story change is also that Nanny was not hired until AFTER Duckula was reincarnated so Igor was the one who screwed up the ritual.

Tone wise I’d also like to slightly age up the target audience so it could get away with a bit more dark humour. My favourite part of the original show was moments that were just so morbid and completely brushed past. 13+ would be fine methinks.

Basic plot of the average episode would be about the count’s hyperfixation of the week and trying to get famous or profit from it. Not every episode would follow this structure though.

The grander themes of the series would be all about expectations from family and strangers and how those expectations can be completely false.

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Characters

^^ Final lineup! ^^

Sketches (less interesting poses but shows off some things better)

Count Duckula!

What I wanted to change

I feel like Duckula from the original spin-off was already a really strong character! There is a lot to him and really all I would want from a more emotional reboot is to dive into what’s already there. I did kinda project on him a bit in this rewrite though… gotta write what’cha know!

I also changed his design quite a bit. I never thought the suit fit his personality and I wanted to go with something a little more bright. If I go back again I might saturate his shirt a bit more. I also wanted all the residents of castle Duckula to have purple in their designs and for duckula and Towser to share similar colour’s inversed

Character Traits

Hatred of his legacy

Duckula is the first member of his lineage to not be an evil vampire and he hates that role that is expected of him. This is partially what drives him to be the nicest duck he can be, in hopes of shaking off his legacy. This also causes him to reject anything that's “spooky” or has to do with vampires. He physically can't eat meat or blood due to his botched resurrection, but even the sight of either distresses him.

Attention Drive

Due to his infamy, all Duckula wants is to be liked by the general public. Everyone in his town is automatically scared of him and he tries really hard to change their opinions on him whether that be through attempting to bea good samaritan or by performing in town. (Both tend to end poorly for him)

ADHD and Theatre Kid Behaviour

Duckula is constantly picking up and putting down new forms of art and performance. This can be anything from oil painting to American football. He does tend to get frustrated or distracted and abandon projects or crafts entirely. His favourite artform is acting and music so as you can imagine he's very into musicals. His musical talents are decent but his acting is awful. He’s also known to loud and overly excited over his interests

Ego and Cowardice

Being given a position of power the day you came into existence does have the tendency to make you… immature to say the least. When in danger, if he even realises there is any, Duckula’s first move is to use his title as leverage. If that doesn't work, his second is to beg, grovel, and lie his way out of the situation. That, or hide behind his much more intimidating companions.

Rich Kid Syndrome

Having the majority of people you know be your house staff really messes with your sense of responsibility. Duckula can hardly do many basic life skills on his own because of this. It's not like he is completely lazy but he does have executive dysfunction and has yet to realise that fact, causing him to procrastinate on many things and completely forget or just get someone else to do it.

Not Naturally kind

Being his father’s reincarnation, it only makes sense that Duckula would inherit many traits from his past lives. Many of the other Counts were ego-driven cowards with desires for fame. They just went about it differently. Duckula actively tries to be kind and polite but a lot of passive aggression and snark slips through the cracks of that veneer. He would never want to admit that he has ANYTHING in common with his ancestors and he hates that being nice doesn't just come naturally to him. Being an immortal, Duckula also has a skewed sense of mortality and often doesn't understand the severity of certain injuries and situations.

This Duckula has ADHD and Autism in this rewrite and he struggles most with executive dysfunction, restricted interests, memory issues, atypical empathy (not specifically low or high), sensory issues (mostly with eating and some sound), and social cues. He also stims.

Towser!

What I Wanted to Change

Towser isn’t even really a character in the original. Just a running gag without a face. I wanted to balance out the main cast by adding another female character since I have feelings on Nanny as a character and i didn’t know if i would even be able to salvage that.

I really like what I came up with! She’s fun to me and I’ll probably flesh her out more later.

Character Traits

Family drive

Towser has little interest in birds that aren't close to her and it usually takes awhile for her to get used to new people. However, she’ll protect those that she does care about with her life. She is the castle’s guard dog and will do whatever’s necessary to protect it. This often comes at the cost of her sleep, because she feels like she always needs to be awake to protect them.

Tag Along

Following Duckula around like a puppy is what Towser does best! She might not fully understand his enthusiasm on certain subjects, but she's always up to backing him up on his newest fame seeking endeavours (though she herself prefers physical activity over creative works). She never expects anything to come of it, but hey, at least it's something to do. She also likes to hear Duckula rant to her about his interests.

Big Sister

Towser is of a much more stable mental state than Duckula, and as his only friend around his age, he trusts her more to be someone to talk to about his identity issues and issues in general. The two are a lot warmer towards each other than they are anyone else, and can also get away with messing with the other a lot more.

Big ol Lap dog

When in werewolf form, Towser tends to forget her size and often crushes them with her size. This usually wouldn't be a problem if it weren't for the fact that she's always a lot more cuddly and energetic in wolf form than bird form. This is because, as a werewolf, she's only in wolf form at night and being a fully nocturnal bird that should only be awake at night, this messes with her sleep rhythm a lot.

Igor!

What I wanted to Change

Personality wise Igor is already really strong and I didn’t change much of that. You’ll probably notice from the sketches that Igor has a skeleton hand, that’s because I made him undead in this version just to give a reason to how he’s been able to live this long since the original doesn’t really have one (which is fine)

Character Traits

Devotion to the role

Igor has been the Count’s butler since the first incarnation. He was assigned to keep the Duckula legacy alive by reincarnating his master every time he meets his fate and helping him readjust every time. Helping each new reincarnation bring misery and fear to the town they reside by with a smile… Until the most recent incarnation of course. He’ll stick it out though, because he still has hope for him.

Taste for the macabre

Whether it be killing innocents behind the back of his new master, decorating the castle with cobwebs and bones, or using his undead nature to scare and torture those around him, Igor certainly has an interesting idea of fun. Igor gets a sick enjoyment out of causing others distress and despises all things kind and cute, something which definitely frustrates Duckula, who's desperately trying to fix his own image.

Bitter Traditionalist

Having lived through the centuries in castle Duckula, Igor has gained an appreciation for the history of the place and the vampire ducks that have resided there over the years. He’s rather invested in the lives of his previous masters and is extremely cross with the newest incarnation for not only not caring about that past, but also completely disowning it. Igor tries desperately to get Duckula to be a normal vampire, truly believing it could work with enough effort. Less he spend the next few centuries with a vegetarian for a master… Igor would not have a problem with Duckula pursuing fame if it weren't for the fact that he thinks it's distracting him from true vampirism.

Tired old man

Igor has lived for many centuries and he does not feel as if he should have to babysit for an immature man child like Duckula. He would rather ignore or snark the young count rather than actually talk to him. When the two argue its a constant back and forth of passive aggression and personal jobs that they almost always forget what they're actually arguing over. Duckula is physically and mentally very young (17-early 20s) compared to Igor’s other masters due to the botched revival and he doesn't know how to, or want to, deal with it.

Nanny!

What I Wanted to Change

I’m sorry to any hardcore Nanny fans out there but this is practically a whole new character. I find Nanny to be frustrating and annoying in the original and who I personally feel is a very sexist and mean spirited character. There’s absolutely nothing I would want to write with a character who’s just “big stupid fat woman inconveniences everyone around her” it’s just uncomfortable after a certain point.

My idea for a new take was just an extremely kind older woman who’s a little airheaded but is a lot smarter than people give her credit for. This sets her up as a foil to Igor. She’s also the only non-monster resident of the castle in this version which I personally think is really interesting.

Character Traits

Only good influence

While Igor actively sets out to make Duckula a bad person and Towser couldn't care less about how Duckula acts, Nanny is the only direct influence in Duckula’s life who pushes him to do better. Nanny believes Duckula is a good person at heart and pushes him to take more responsibility in his life. She wants him to learn a good work ethic and is fully supportive of him trying to better himself.

Good Christian Woman

Nanny is, in fact, a christian. She is fully aware of the demonic nature of her companions but believes that everyone can better themselves no matter their circumstances and attempts to better those around her. Igor hates her for it but she’s totally ignorant to that fact.

Assertive Mother Figure

Though Nanny is a very kind woman, she is also not a pushover. She will assert authority over Duckula and anyone else if necessary, and most are compliant once she puts her foot down, if they aren't, however, Nanny does pack a punch and won't hesitate to use her strength to protect her family.

Smarter than she seems

Nanny is an airheaded optimist with a big heart and those traits make her come off a lot more clueless than she actually is. She may seem like she has no idea what’s going on but she’s actually very observant and is fantastic at assessing a situation and finding the best course of action.

Dr. Von Goosewing

What I Wanted to Change

I really liked the idea of the antagonist to Duckula was in a liniage of vampire slayers and that their ancestors have been fighting for generations. It gave me the perfect set up for a ✨SHADOW ANTAGONIST✨ I wanted to make this rewrite have the two reflect each other a lot more. To do that I wanted Goosewing to still be a really cooky guy but I didn’t want the public to know that.

Also I have no idea why he’s dressed like Sherlock Holmes in the original if he’s a Van Helsing parody and also an inventor. You could’ve leaned into either of those ideas but for some reason he’s dressed like a detective? so I tried giving him a more fitting outfit but keeping his colours for recognisablity.

Character Traits

Playing Village hero

Goosewing is considered a big deal in town because of his family of vampire hunters. He’s prepared his whole life to kill Count Duckula the moment he comes back and to protect the common folk from the paranormal. Despite this, Goosewing isn't actually particularly skilled at his job and usually ends up failing his assassinations due to his own incompetence. He feels like he has to play the role as a hero to continue his family’s legacy despite not particularly enjoying it or being good at it.

Overestimating the enemy

With how cunning and malevolent the past Duckula incarnations were, Goosewing expects the same from this one. Goosewing believes that Duckula is a dangerous and clever foe completely focused on causing others pain. In reality, Duckula is the most incompetent bird in all of Transylvania, aside fromGoosewing himself, of course. Goosewing also comes to believe that Duckula is only acting nice to later betray the public, a belief he is not quiet about and that keeps the public from trusting Duckula.

Mad Scientist

Goosewing definitely falls into the eccentric scientist trope with his innovative but scatterbrained nature. He would much rather be working on an invention than actually doing his job. The public sees him as a hero but while hunting vampires or when hes alone he comes off as more of a mad scientist than the hero character he plays. His intentions are ultimately good but are completely based on the assumption that he’s the wholly good protector of the people and that Duckula is a cunning villain who's out to get him and everyone else.

Shadow

Goosewing and Duckula reflect each other in a lot of ways. They both have a legacy they are expected to uphold despite not wanting to or even being able to, they both care deeply about the public’s opinion on them while the public has an incredibly incorrect view of the both of them, and they both have creative interests outside of the roles expected of them that they'd rather be persuing. Duckula fully rejects anything to do with his ancestry, while Goosewing is actively trying to fulfil despite not enjoying it.

The Murder Brothers!

What I Wanted to Change

Haha I called them the murder brothers bc they’re crows and criminals Im actually so funny… anyway. I don’t know if I should’ve even done these guys but I really like them as antagonists so!!

I gave the younger two names and a personality. The wiki said they didn’t have names but if they do lmk and I’ll just fix that. Other than that I didn’t change much except try to give ‘em a bit more depth and changing their physical designs a ton for fun.

Character Traits

The Murder Brothers, as a whole, are a tight knit family of con men crows who pull any grift they can to get their hands on some cash. Though they may act like their only loyalty in life is to money, they do genuinely care about each other's well being

Ruffles

Ruffles is the short tempered and eldest leader of the group. He’s constantly frustrated with his brothers’ incompetence and isn't quiet about it. He believes that if it weren't for them he'd probably be a lot further in life by now (which isn't true) and he’ll say he doesn't care about them, but he actually does.

Burt

If he didn't insist on helping his brothers, Burt would be the most likely to be living an honest life. As the second oldest sibling, Burt holds a position as right hand man. He’s a naturally kind and enthusiastic bird who, while a bit dumb, does openly express his love for his brothers. He takes on a lot of the abuse from his older brother and is often used by the group to talk to others, because he's so naturally trustworthy.

Reggie

Reggie is the second youngest of the brothers and the most relaxed out of all of them. He has an impeccable sleight of hand and is the go to for lockpicking and such. He’s a decent smooth talker and is often the one to break up fights, though he's not above getting angry at the others himself.

Leroy

Leroy is the youngest of the brothers and by far the least skilled. His speech is incomprehensible from under his mask (although he can see through it for the most part) and he’s often left with the worst jobs during their cons because of that. He’s the most timid out of all of them but I’m sure if you took that mask off of him he’d be really talkative.

—————————————————

Ending Words

Well that’s all I got! I spent way too long on this project that maybe two people will care about and one of them is me 💔 Anyway if I make anything else for this rewrite/au I’ll tag it with #wbcd . I wouldn’t count on it because I mighttt get burn out from this but im just so glad I finished it! I’ve thought about writing a pilot script just for fun but idk. I’d like to do more long format au stuff, I was going to make a YouTube video about this but I almost cried trying to record myself so I gave up 💔

#digital art #art #drawing #count duckula #duckula #wbcd #I wrote this while bingeing Steven universe btw #on the finale as i type this out #I say this bc of the. similarities #as soon as I put together the peices that duckula considers his past incarnations his ancestors I was like.. this is just su with vampires #Im really scared that everyone will think this is dumb 💔#I’m really insucure about my writing compared to my art

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devilmayfamily · 2 years ago

Note

Can I request a shy S/O who has a crush on Vergil/Dante/V and they draw the boys secretly in their sketchbook with little notes like "saw him in those dark blue jeans again he's so beautiful" or "how do I tell him I love him?" etc. The boys stumble upon this and they're so flattered they blush to their chest.

Why is this literally me lol. Hope you enjoy!

Dante

Your sketchbook was filled with sketches of him mostly during training since it was the only time his focus couldn't ver towards you at any given moment

You've indirectly gotten better at drawing action poses and the male torso because of this and the fact that this man goes full Grey Fullbuster and takes off his shirt to train

The other time you're able to draw him is when he's asleep, a magazine covering his face

One particular position you found him laying in had you write a note of "Idk how he's sleeping like this" next to the sketch of it.

Dante has noticed you with this sketchbook and hadn't thought anything of it until he realized he never sees you drawing him in it

His curiosity got the better of him one day and decides to take a look while you left it unattended.

The first few pages were as he expected, sketches of Shadow when she was around, the girls of the team, and even some of the orphanage kids playing from when you would visit Nero and Kyrie

Towards the middle of the book, he found all the sketches of him you'd been hiding

He looks over every single one and reads all the little notes you've left behind

He finds the whole idea of you sketching him cute and endearing

Seeing a particular sketch of him asleep, face facing you, with the note "He looks like he gives nice cuddles" has his face a flame, red tracing all the way down his neck

You drew this scared up man so soft, it was like he was looking at someone else

Vergil

You find going unnoticed by Vergil to be easy

He's always either reading or beating up Dante when not on missions

Vergil finds your sketchbook when he mistakes it for his collection of poems on a particularly sleepy morning

Opening it, he's taken back by all the drawings

It's obvious you have some skill

As he turns the page, he finds an entire spread dedicated to him reading

At the very bottom of the page it reads "he's always reading this thing, i wonder what secrets it holds"

Vergil softly smiles, a faint heat resting across his cheeks wondering if he could share a piece of himself with someone again

He was ready, wasn't he?

Flipping the page he finds a spread dedicated to him cooking, fighting, even simply being dressed up in a suit

"I'll admit, he's sexy in a suit"

Vergil's face sets a flame, the man shutting the sketchbook and replacing it finally with his poems

You become curious by the new sets of suits in the coming days but never complain

Griffon stole the sketchbook when you left it unattended

He scolds the bird for digging in your private processions but with a little coaxing from Griffon he looks inside

He's not surprised to see sketches of Shadow and Griffon, the bird boasting about how good he looked

As he turns the page, Griffon teases him for the bright pink blush that spreads across his face upon seeing sketches of himself

"My beautiful muse" is written in a beautiful cursive next to a sketch of V smiling

He flips the page expecting to find something different but it's more drawings of him

"May he ever know how he sets my heart a burning"

V can't help but adore you right then

He smiles, closing the sketchbook as you approach

He looks up to you, his smile causing one to spread across your own face

Griffon makes some comment about leaving you two to it before disappearing

#dmc #dmc5 #devil may cry 5 #dante dmc5 #dmc vergil #dante sparda #devil may cry #v #dmc v #dmc5 v #vitale #dante x reader #vergil x reader #dmc v x reader #vitale x you

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askfallenroyalty · 11 months ago

Text

Okay so I'm going to be real with ya'll.

I got the sprites for DOWN mostly ready, outside character sprites for cutscenes and portraits (as I've decided to change how I do those)

I got it looking great! Just one problem.

I, for the life of me, cannot make this game.

I've been trying on/off for 5 months. I can't sit down and work on it. it's seriously got me like.

and i just????? on top of the all writing troubles i've been having and my roadblock on working on this i just...

i don't know. maybe Fallen Royalty was always too ambitious. i feel like i wasted years trying to remake this! i want to scream!

and i wrote myself in a hole -i do need Down to happen in some shape or form and it'd work best as a game because audio is a big component to what i wrote but i've changed engines when TML's engine briefly was dead (it got better) and so I've made that song half way twice

i just hate it i hate it i hate it

i can make sprite work for it cause that's medativative for me and i enjoy seeing it come to life

but sitting down, making cutscenes, having characters move around and talk? sounds like the worst thing ever. i'd rather do anything but that.

and drawing the comic?? i need to fix the story beats to make it. even chapter 2 took more work than it should cause i re-drew half the chapter and i'd sometimes just, make scenes that'd get tossed. i'm scared i'm going to try to sketch out the chapter, hate it and then resketch it. and yeah, that's why i've rewritten it so many times to prevent that, but i can't settle on a story i think works no matter what i do!

so uh.

long ramble aside i think I should put Fallen Royalty on indefinite hiatus. I DO SEE THE IRONY THIS IS EXACTLY WHERE I GAVE UP LAST TIME AND I'M SO ANGRY AT MYSELF FOR IT LMAO!!!!!!!

#ooc

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specialagentlokitty · 9 months ago

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MHA x reader - nightmare

Hi can you do more bnha where Izuku sees the Reader (who's a hero and a teacher to UA) and ask about her quirk. Problem is, Reader hates her quirk (it can be any quirk that is considered villainous) as it had cause her parent's deaths and hates talking about it. But Izuku is the sweetest student she has (she could be an animal teacher who teaches how to rescue animals whenever there's a major disaster.) and she can't help but talk to him and he starts rambling off about how her quirk can help people not realizing that she starts to feel better about her quirk. - Anon💜

Walking through the hallways of UA you kept your eyes fixated forward as students jumped out of your way, doing anything to avoid being near you.

They were all rushing out of their classes to go to lunch, and you were heading to your own classroom to get away from the students and their prying eyes.

Pushing the door open, you made your way inside, pushing your hood down as you walked over to your desk, sitting down and kicking your feet up as you opened your lunch.

Hearing a timid knock on your door, you turned your head in that direction, watching as it was opened, timid green eyes locked with your black ones.

“Midoriya, it’s lunch you shouldn’t be here.”

“I.. I know… I had a question…” he mumbled.

You gave a nod of your head, gesturing for him to come in and you took your feet from the desk, kicking a chair over for him to sit down which he took.

He sat down, hugging his notebook to his chest.

“What do you want to ask?”

“I wanted to ask about your quirk….”

You narrowed your eyes a little bit which made him shuffle back in his chair, and you turned back to your lunch.

“Why?”

“Well, I know about Mr Aizawa’s, and everybody’s in my class, but I didn’t know much about you… I know you’ve never done any interviews about your quirk despite how many times the media has asked you.”

You held your spare hand out, waiting for him to give you the notebook.

Taking it from him you placed it on the desk, flicking through the pages, glancing over his notes and he laughed nervously.

“I know it may seem really weird but I’m eager to know everything about everybody’s quirks!”

“It’s a good thing, learning about as many quirks as you can now will help you in the future, you’ll be able to match similar quirks to ones you know.”

“Oh wow really? I never thought about that.”

You set your lunch down, taking the notebook and you turned to the student.

“I assume you spend a lot of time studying others, so the next time you’re facing another class focus on the quirks that resemble ones you’ve studied, you’ll notice a lot of them will fall into the same sub class.”

You carried flicking through the pages until you finally reached the page about you.

Just like the others there was a quick sketch of your hero costume, and the page title was your hero name, but that was it, there wasn’t anything else on the page.

There was just a bunch of question marks and you set the notebook next to you out of his way.

“I haven’t really figured anything out about your quirk, I tried. There’s speculation about what it’s actually called, as it was never confirmed there’s load of theories going around.” He explained.

You hummed a little bit.

“They also say that you chose your hero name based on what people would call you.”

“What do you think?”

“Well I do think Nightmare is a usual hero name, but I think it’s really cool!” He grinned.

You let out a small laugh.

“It’s true that my hero name is what people used to call me when I was growing up, my whole life that’s all I’ve been referred as. A nightmare.”

You pushed yourself up, pulling your hood back up, gesturing for him to follow you and he did, letting you lead him down the schools halls.

Some students watched in curiosity as the student followed you.

“My quirk is called Nightmare as well, so I suppose it’s fitting that I used that as my hero name given how everybody called me that anyways, it wouldn’t make much of a difference.”

Leading him to the cafeteria, you made him pick up his lunch, and you made your way back to your classroom.

He sat at one of the desks so he could eat while writing down in his notebook, and you went back to eating your own lunch.

“How does your quirk work?”

You sighed.

“I don’t like talking about it.”

“Oh I’m really sorry Miss Nightmare! I didn’t mean to push!” He panicked.

You gazed at him with black eyes.

He’d heard people couldn’t meet your gaze, because when they did it was like looking into an abyss, you get lost in them and that’s how your quirk works.

You have never activated it on them though, and he wasn’t so sure how true that was.

“What I’m about to tell you an never leave this room, do you understand? There’s a select few who know about my quirk and how it works. All Might seems to trust you, and I trust him.”

“Of course! You have my word!”

He grinned from ear to ear and you sighed.

“Let me start by saying that all those rumours you’ve heard about my quirk aren’t real. It doesn’t work the way people think it does. My quirk is called Nightmare, but I don’t cause nightmares.”

“You don’t?”

You shook your head.

“My quirk lets me see what people’s biggest fear is, it’s like a label above your head, I can’t help this, I just see it. Now, don’t get me wrong, your biggest fear isn’t what you think it is, it’s a subconscious fear, something you don’t even think about.”

“What’s mine?”

“I can’t tell you, if I tell you that means my quirk is in effect. Generally if I tell somebody their fear they’ll become hyper focused on it, and it’ll drive them insane.”

He nodded his head.

“My quirk allows me to take other fears however, and bring them into reality, no matter what it is, I can shape all your fears, your nightmares into physical forms, only you can see them, nobody else, and for the most part it’ll leave you unable to move, you’ll be to scared to try and fight.”

“That’s why no villains have ever attacked you, right?”

“Correct.”

Walking over to your chalkboard, you grabbed the chalk and began to explain everything to him, drawing a few diagrams.

You turned to look at Midoriya.

“I turn my victims world into a living nightmare in which they’rere trapped until I release them from my quirk. However I can’t keep them under the affect for more than five minutes.”

“What happens after that?”

“Do you know how fear works? What it does to your body?”

He shook his head, and you began to explain how fear affects the body, and what it does to the body.

“Eventually your heart will give out, you’ll die.”

His eyes shot open.

“This is why I’m the last to the scene, so I can subdue the villains without harming them.”

You erased all the writing off the board, setting the chalk back down.

Taking your chair you walked over to him, setting in down in front of his desk, and you took his notebook to see if he was writing anything down.

Much to your surprise he hadn’t been writing a single thing down.

“This is why I’m regarded as a villain, even though I help people. Because of how dangerous my quirk is, I need to remain in full control otherwise the consequences could be disastrous.”

You sighed a little bit.

“I can also take your fears and nightmares, but like all quirks there’s a drawback.”

“Oh?”

You pushed your hood down, and the boy could see how tired you look, as if you hadn’t slept for years.

“In studying peoples fear, taking them and manipulating them, they also become part of me, meaning I’m stuck with all the fears I have ever seen. Which means I can’t sleep. I sleep a few hours week at most.”

“Oh, that doesn’t sound healthy.”

You let out a small laugh, leaning back in your chair.

“Each quirk has a downfall Midoriya, you should know this as well.”

He frowned a little bit.

“A lot of people say you hate your quirk…” he said quietly.

You nodded your head.

“They’re correct, I don’t. I hate my quirk, it’s monstrous, which is why I wanted to use it to be a hero. That doesn’t mean I like it though.”

“Your quirk is amazing! You can do so much with it to help people though! You can take peoples fears away! And you can stop villains before they hurt anybody!”

He carried on rambling about how amazing your quirk was, and how you could help people giving you a list longer then you ever thought.

You never realised there was so many uses for your quirk, and after being called a villain and a monster for so long you had began to believe it.

But listening to your student rambling in amazement about your quirk all you could do was smile as you listened.

While he was pacing back and forth listening everything you were writing his notebook, closing it just before the bell went.

“Oh! I’m going to be late!”

“Notebook.”

You held it out to him, and he beamed brightly as he ran out of the classroom.

With a little smile you went back to your desk to finish eating your lunch, a newfound sense of wonder for your quirk installed in you.

He was going to make a great hero and that you were sure of, you just wondered if you’d be able to see your students grow.

Your door was opened again, and Hizashi walked in with a grin, holding up a cup and a bottle, Aizawa walking with him.

“You two have class.”

“You need sleep.”

Hizashi walked over, setting them both in front of you, and he grinned a little.

“Aizawa is gonna make sure your quirk stays dormant!”

You smiled at them both, taking your medication and downing the cup of coffee.

Tossing your jacket in the ground you laid your head on it, resting your arms over your eyes.

“What’s the medication for anyways man? You’ve never said.” The loud hero huffed.

“Fatal insomnia, a genetic byproduct of my quirk.”

#my hero academia #my hero academia x reader #my hero academia x you #my hero academia imagine #mha #mha x reader #mha x y/n #mha x you #mha imagine

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sukibenders · 1 year ago

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consolation

FEATURING: percy jackson x reader

summary: y/n has been cooped up in their cabin for days, only leaving to attend breakfast and lunch at their siblings' insistence. it's not that they mean to, it's just that their art is doing anything but coming together as of late and it's making them doubt their abilities. good thing for them that their fantastic boyfriend is there to save the day!

contents: soft!percy, cute couple moments, possibly some angst in regards to self doubt but mainly fluff in the end, references to passing of time, worried!percy, gn!reader, no stated cabin or godly parent but mentions of siblings, percy referring to you as 'babe'

note" this is my first actual piece of written work on here, and it seemed fitting that it would be pjo related. I'm so nervous about it, so please be kind and give this some love! it's stated that the reader is in an art slump, and that's for the sake of the plot behind this so sorry to all those who aren't interested in the arts or things like that!

You would say that it wasn't a normal occurrence for you to compare yourself to others to anyone who asked, but you yourself knew that that simply wasn't true and, in this moment, were being proved wrong as you stared at the messy array of art supplies circling around you--from crumbled papers of failed sketches to messy rags layered with dried paint. While the mess was contained to your side of your cabin, you were sure that your siblings cautious of just how long that would last.

Your appearance faired no better. Your camp shirt was littered is paint marks from sloppy movements of your hands, the orange holding more life to it than the fresh canvas in front of you. Three had laid crestfallen along the floor, thrown down carelessly during fits of frustration after another failed attempt tallied in your mind. Just when you thought things where going to go smoothly, fate had other plans and took another direction. Maybe this was a sign of the Gods punishing you, but for what? You couldn't figure out.

The more you stared at the blank canvas, at the mess around you, the more dishearted you felt. Your mind wandered to a group of kids that you had seen at the arts and crafts center last week, some Apollo campers you had assumed, albeit bitterly, when your eyes fell on their stunning art pieces making it hard for you to look away. They were so beautiful and held your attention longer than you'd hope to admit outloud. You had desired to master a similar affect with your own piece. That did not seem likely.

"But they did it so perfectly," you muttered to yourself (more like growled), hands gripping your paint brush tightly to the point where you were sure that the wood would snap under the force. "I'm sure they didn't have to go through all this." Your brows furrowed and you were just about to give up when a familiar voice spoke up.

"Man, it looks like a hurricane rolled through here." You looked up and were met with a pair of sea green eyes, of which held a mirth to them that only increased tenfold when they landed on you. "Maybe I should take you to seek shelter, just to be safe."

This caused you to snort. "Haha, very funny. I know that, if ever in a hurricane, to simply call out your name and you'll be there to save me, won't you?"

"Always!" A toothy grin broke out over Percy's face and it was almost enough to draw you back from your creativity haze. But when your eyes drew back to the blank canvas, the sense of dismay returned. Subconsciously, your shoulders sagged in response, but you were none the wiser. Percy, however, being the attentive boyfriend that he was, took notice. "I take it things aren't going as planned?"

You shook your head. "That's an understatement. This is my third attempt so far, and I can't even put paint to the material. At least with the others I could say that."

Percy shifted forward, reaching for one of the lone canvases and studied it with interest. "This one is nice," he said honestly. "Why'd you stop?"

"Because it's bad." You answered simply.

But Percy didn't believe that. "No it's not, you're just being hard on yourself." Like always hung in the air, but it was moreso a thought of your own rather than Percy's himself. The inky haired boy gave you a brief once over, brows furrowed with tinges of worry. "When was the last time you took a break? Stepped outside for something other than going to the dining pavilion?"

You blinked for a moment, attention slightly divided between your boyfriend and the work before you. "Uh, I think it was like...yesterday, one of my siblings dragged me out to the strawberry field with them." Or, at least you thought it was yesterday.

But Percy shook his head. "That was Tuesday, babe, I asked one of your siblings. Today's Friday. We need to get you out of this cabin, doing something other than painting."

Slightly shocked by clarification, you body tensed at the thought of being pulled away from your workstation, especially so prematurely into your journey. If you stopped now, what was to say that you would ever finish? Or that this was possibly your last chance at recreating and if you left now, all that went down the drain.

"I can't." You sighed weakly, hurriedly drifting your eyes to your boyfriend, who you had just discovered, that you hadn't spent much time with at all during this week. "If I don't get this piece right now, I might never-"

Percy raised a brow in response of you cutting yourself off. "You might never what?"

With a frustrated and embarrassed sigh, you explained to him your dilemma and the set backs it had provided you, refraining from looking at him the whole time. A part of you had fear some sort of mockery or lack of understanding that conjured up a simple dismissal without actually helping. You had grown accustomed to that after a few occasions and, while you didn't believe Percy to be like, it still hovered in your mind.

To your surprise, though not really, a pair of strong arms wrapped around you so gently yet fiercely that you felted tethered and set free all the same. Your face subconsciously pressed into Percy's bicep and you inhaled his scent, feeling the burdens of the weight you had placed on yourself slowly slipping away one by one. Faint tears welled in your eyes, but he made no move to comment on them.

"I wished you'd came to me sooner, I could've helped you. While not with anything art related, because it would have ended poorly for the both of us, I could have been here to keep you company and show some support."

A small sound that was a mix between a cry and laugh bubbled from your throat. "I don't think I would have been much fun."

Percy snorted. "Please, we would've had the time of our lives here. You're siblings would have kicked me out and banished me from ever entering." While this drew another laugh from you, it wasn't hard to notice the seriousness enveloping the boy's tone. "I think you need a break, for real this time and with no objections."

"But-"

"This piece, can wait. You can't. So what if some other camper made a cool piece, that doesn't mean anything. It especially doesn't mean you're a bad artist just because you're having trouble recreating it." When you fell silent at his words, he rested his nose against your temple, breathing you in. "You're very talented, and that shouldn't be doubted."

A part of you wanted to argue, to say that he was only telling you that because you were dating, but the more you thought about doing anything other than laying in your boyfriend's arms, the more exhausted you felt. Maybe it was your sudden drop in weight, but Percy had maneuvered you around until you were far from the canvas that had been torturing you for hours and closer to your bed.

"Let's get you some rest, babe." He moved to lay you down when your hand reached out, stopping him. "Babe-"

"I got paint on your shirt." You said simply, eyeing how your, still paint riddled, fingers smeared over your boyfriend's tee from his abs to his side. You had been so wrapped up in savoring his embrace, that you had forgotten about your own mess clinging to your frame.

Rather than wallow in the new stain, Percy reached for a damp, less paint splattered cloth and held it to your face. "It's no big deal, but it will be if you get paint on your sheets. Let's get you cleaned up."

By the time he was finished, you were already dozing off no matter how much you tried to fight. Your body rocked and swayed softly, and the action only made Percy laugh even more. Resting you gently on to your bed, head braced against your pillow, the inky haired boy moved to stand when your hand latched around his wrist.

"Stay," You whispered, eyes hopefully. Even with how busy you made yourself, you had missed him deeply.

"I gotta clean up around here. Wouldn't want you to trip in this mess, now would you?"

This caused you to wave him off. "Ah, well you'll simply just have to take care of me again, which seems like a win if you think about it."

Percy chuckled. "Yeah, it does. And maybe I'm so inclined to be against it." He patted your side. "Move over, babe, I'm coming in."

You cheered softly, doing as told just enough for him to rest his frame an inch away from you before you practically melted into him, arms wrapped around his waist and face tucked under his chin. You could feel Percy's chest rumble in satisfaction before he followed a similar manner. The two of you laid like that for a few minutes before you whispered.

"I'm sorry for not spending time with you these last few days." You apologized. "I was just...so wrapped up in this project and my own thoughts that I lost track of time. It's no excuse, but-"

"It's all right," Percy cut in, shushing you softly as you tried to protest. He was in no mood for you to get worked up, especially over something that was so easily fixed and could be settled even further once you were rested. "I understand, and I'm not uupset. I missed you, for sure, but we'll find a way to spend time together later, once you've had a decent amount of sleep."

You nodded in agreement, a yawn pulling from your lips. "I propose a date, anywhere you'd like and we can do whatever you want. You deserve it."

"I don't think taking care of my partner necessarily guarantees a reward," Percy commented, watching with mirth as you sent an eye roll his way. "But I'll hold you to that deal later. Love you."

"Love you, too."

#percy jackson #pjo fandom #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x y/n #x reader #percy jackson x black!reader #percy jackson x poc!reader #[🪐] - lunars writes

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yanderegrizzsworld · 2 years ago

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Oh my god i literally just a send an sth meme before i read the post about welcome home-

anywAYS-

Since we been talking about unhinged [y/n] for a couple post now... mybe a romantic hcs for wally with a [y/n] who's unhinged?

-𝐣𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧

Imagine: Romantic Yandere Wally Darling with an unhinged reader

TW/CW: Implied self-destructive behavior/paranoia/self harm, stalking & mentions of isolation

As the friendliest neighbor, Wally is always happy to lend a hand to his friends in any given situation & with you it's no different, if anything, it's a bit more extreme. If he were to spot you literally doing anything, the puppet is immediately by your side asking if he can assist you.

While the yellow puppet grasps that negative emotions such as anger or sadness are normal to experience, he'd much rather see you in a positive mood. No matter how cold or narrow your eyes get or how fidgety you are, Wally will insist on staying by your side until you feel better.

While a part of him is guilty for feeling this way, Wally can't help but feel a bit glad when you either limit your time with others or simply refuse to be around the others. With all the time he spends attached to your hips, he'd probably (unintentionally) isolate you by keeping you at Home with him.

Whether you seek to avoid him or tell him you can't hang out with him, Wally will still follow you about, a few feet away, all with that empty yet intense stare. It never fails to make your shoulders feel heavy & most likely makes you more suspicious of everyone, though the staring does stop momentarily when your cautious behavior extends to him. Don't be like that with him! He wouldn't do anything to you!

Like his last name, Wally keeps up this easygoing yet endearing demeanor that's able to charm anyone he greets. If this behavior were to cause you to distance yourself from him, Wally would rant to Home while striving not to panic, wondering what to do to make you comfortable with him. This usually leads to him either asking you to paint with him or him inserting himself in what you're doing if you're busy with another neighbor.

Wally is quick to suggest painting or some other calm activity if you were to randomly become irritated, keeping a distance if asked. Though the moment you begin to bite your hands or hit your head with your palms, Wally is quick to stop it. He's aware of his lack of physical strength & so relies on distracting you, of when it works, a wide grin displays itself on his face.

It'd come to no surprise he'd paint/sketch you, no matter what you're doing or where you are. You'd grow accustomed to receive one of the painting or sketches while he tells you of this apple sale Howdy has at his store that he wishes for you to accompany him to. He'd very likely already be dragging you by the wrist to the bodega before you give him an answer.

#yandere #yandere headcanons #romantic yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere welcome home #yandere wally darling #yandere Welcome Home x reader #welcome home #wally darling #welcome home x reader #Wally Darling x reader

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lostfirefly · 4 months ago

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Buggy x Reader Masterlist

I had to reorganize my masterlist a little because Tumblr doesn't allow adding new links) Sketches, OC's stories are here :)

• Heart of Courage You and Buggy are being held hostage by pirates (based on my dream) • Make my heart a better place, give me something I can believe You're a cook on the Buggy Pirates crew. During the year you have feelings for the captain, but you don't dare to say it, but you write about your feelings in poems. One day he finds your notebook (based on my personal poem) • If you wake up in your bed, alone in the dark, I'm sorry I gotta leave you before you love me You're the owner of a bar where one evening a blue-haired pirate comes and you both play a drinking game. Just a random shitty shit :) • Please don't say you're gone forever, 'cause I can't hurt no more

You're the flower shop owner who has a long-standing relationship with Buggy. You haven't seen each other much in the last few months. He finally arrives to see you, but he's overtaken by fit of jealousy during the dinner.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2

• Thank you, driver, for getting me here, you'll be an inspector, have no fear, I don't want to cause no fuss, but can I buy your Magic Bus? You and your sister are taking the bull to the farm. You board the only bus that can transport bulls, the driver of which is Buggy. Just a random shitty shit again :) • Can't find my peace and quiet, some things are better left in silence You were tormented by nightmares, you came to Buggy's bed. • Make my coffee sweet and warm, just the way you used to lie in my arms (nsfw!) You were sitting in a coffee shop for work. The barista was Buggy. • I need you here till the very end, so stay here with me Buggy had a hard day. You comb his hair and wash off his makeup. Fluffy shitty shit. • I will lay it at your feet, and I won't hold back anything, 'cause what you are is all, what you are is all of me You haven't seen Buggy for several days, he's throwing you a candlelit dinner. Fluffy fluff! • Secrets I have held in my heart are harder to hide than I thought, maybe I just wanna be yours You throw knives together with Cabaji. Buggy joins you. • If you sit down with this old clown, take that frown and break it, before the evening's gone away, I think that we could make it Your sister took you to a bar so she could meet someone. She saw Buggy, but he clearly showed interest in you. • Now hush little baby, don't you cry, everything's gonna be alright You and Buggy have a little daughter. The ship is moored, and you go to rest, leaving Buggy with the child. • Baby, baby when you're looking deep in my eyes, I know you're seeing past my make-up Buggy asks you to help him apply makeup. • They say it's your birthday, we're going to have a good time Buggy's birthday. You want to cheer him up. • But what am I gonna say, when you make me feel that way? (nsfw!) You came to visit Buggy in his office. • Storybook endings, fairy tales coming true, deep down inside we want to believe they still do Buggy tells a fairy story to children.

• Maybe You're My Enemy

You're the captain of the ship, and Buggy stole from you the map that you stole from him earlier.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

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bunnyinfoxclothing · 5 months ago

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Chaggie Cooking/Baking

Okay... hear me out...

This is something I have wanted to talk about for awhile. But it is so out of left field and absolutely nobody asked for this. But I want to rant, and this is my blog so suck it up.

So I read a lot of fan fiction... probably too much and as far as I have seen. A lot of people agree, that Charlie can't cook, but in the same vein most think that she can bake.

HAVE ANY OF YOU TRIED TO BAKE??

I'm talking anything other than premade flour dough, where you just add eggs, butter and water or oil.

None of this:

Baking is almost exclusively about specifics. Everything has to be mixed for a certain time. Over mixing can cause any rising agent to go flat. If you over mix eggs they will become curdled and dry. But if you under mix your bread becomes tough and dense, almost like a brick, making it inedible. With egg whites they can be left too runny and unusable in a meringue. Temperatures have to be exact. Butter has to be the correct consistency. You have to know how to measure, things can be messed up if you are off by a gram.

This is because Baking is quite literally, stripped down to it's most basic form, Chemistry.

All of this to say in baking you need 5 key things.

Organization

Attention to Detail

Co-ordination

Patience

Creativity

Does Charlie have all of these traits? YES! Can she hold all of them at once for 40 min? I am less certain.

However if Charlie is failing to cook... she is not succeeding in baking.

Now that being said. I think Charlie would make a fantastic cook.

If Baking is chemistry, cooking is art.

In baking if you mess something up and it doesn't taste good, you are back to step one. In cooking, you add seasoning and flavors and adjust to your taste and the tastes of others as you go.

Cooking is hands on, taste every step of the way.

Baking is follow this recipe exact or face the wrath of the gods. Cooking is, here is a general guideline, you decide what a pinch is, and always double the amount of garlic we suggest.

In art, there is trust the process, because in the moment things can look bad or strange or use ugly colors, but you can paint over mistakes, you can use markers to color over wrong lines, you can add details to turn something from a sketch to a masterpiece. You can look at something, see the mistake and fix it.

Tell me this scene of Remy dancing, tasting, and adding flavor doesn't seem exactly like what Charlie would do. Throwing stuff in, just to add to the flavor, improvising.

In episode 3 Charlie literally heard the words "I don't trust you" and decided that's what they were doing for the day. No plan, no idea, just straight into it.

(Charlie and Vaggie probably had a brainstorm session right before to decide on trust falls and to make the banner, but still)

Charlie as a Character very much hops into things with full enthusiasm and lets whatever is happening guide her to the next decision.

That is not the personality of a baker. That is the personality of a chef.

Anyway, someone please make an Au of this with Chef Charlie and Baker Vaggie trying to teach each other and fall in love. It would be so cute.

(Vaggie teaches Charlie discipline and subtly, creating a calmer mind in the kitchen, and Charlie applies that to her personal life, so she can better talk to people. Meanwhile Charlie teaches Vaggie how to have fun and go with the flow. Allowing Vaggie to go out and explore the world a bit more. Greet the world with open arms style. iykyk)

Anyway thank you for coming to my ted talk.

#hazbin hotel #vaggie #vaggie x charlie #charlie morningstar #hazbin vaggie #chaggie #hazbin hotel fanfiction #charlie x vaggie #hazbin headcanons #hazbin chaggie #hazbin hotel charlie #charlie hazbin hotel #charlie headcanons #vaggie hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vaggie

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ohnonononononono567 · 10 months ago

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Artist - John "Soap" McTavish x gn!reader (fluff)

Quick drabble because i can't tell if the guy I like is sending me messages so if you want to comment please comment me advice im going fucking crazy im too socially inept to understand his messages

Johnny found that the world was his muse, his friends, his experiences, everything.

Catching himself drawing you over and over in his notebook, he knew he was too far gone.

Your eyelashes, the slight jiggle of your arms as you walk, the way your cheeks could give away a blush no matter how much or little melanin you possessed.

It was harmless. Just practice he told himself.

Entering your room, stiffening at the sight of you wearing nothing but casual attire...god he's done. Say this shit to the guys at the pub, and he's sure he'd die fom embarrassment. Gunfire, explosives, his lieutenant's testing attitude, his captains questionable ethics, he could handle it.

But choosing between gluing his eyes at the sight of you or avoiding his gaze from you completely was probably asking him to choose between a million dollars or causing the destruction of the world.

He allowed himself in.

He was goofy, charming, he was a social butterfly. You entertained him of course, how could you not? Johnny Soap Mactavish was bright. He brightened up a room.

And if you only knew how bright you smiled with him around.

He sat you down on your bed, and pulled a chair across from you, silently sketching your features. Gently holding your chin in one hand to tilt you to the side to get a better view of your jaw, his thumb seeming to idly rub across your lips momentarily, before he stopped himself.

Don't ruin a good friendship.

Sketching you; he thanked you with a hug, no matter how badly he wanted to tackle you to the bed and tell you over and over he was infatuated with everything about you, to the most irrelevant iota of your being.

Slowly...he started slipping little doodles of you at meetings. Walking past and allowing the touch of his gloved hands on your shoulder linger, a singular sticky note showing a little doodle of you unapologetically smiling.

He found himself in a room, giggling, but always glancing at you, to make sure his joke even landed. He could make a room of millions laugh, but your opinion would be the only to matter.

A drive back from the pub one night, he was sat beside you, and god bonnie you're exhausted. Laying your head on his bulky shoulder, he idly started to scratch at your scalp, stroking your hair aswell.

Internally he was nervous. He could pick up a girl with ease, hell, he's been able to get some handsome blokes into his bed before. But you? You were probably his greatest fear. And here you were.

You were comfortable with him. Him of all people. A man who's known strife early on, a man who doubts you'd care to hear him bitch about his past, as you fell in and out of sleep on his shoulder.

He became bolder after that. Sitting next to you, holding your hand around, arm around your shoulder as he entered a room, standing by you even if you didn't do anything.

He entered your room one day, exhausted; stressed. He doesn't know why he chose this room today of all days.

But he did.

Laying his head on your tummy as you both laid down, scrolling idly on his phone, before he feels your fingers gently thread through his mohawk.

"It's gettin' long, huh?" He mumbles against your stomach, looking at his phone still as you nod.

He sighs, leaning up, looking at the being in front of him.

"I'm gonna kiss you. I've wanted to for a while." He blurts out, looking at you deadpanned.

"John," You giggle. That goddamn smile, makes him weak every time,

"What?" You say

"You heard me."

"Oh."

"You wan' tha'?"

"Yeah."

He chuckles, pressing his lips softly onto yours for a peck, leaning his hands down to hold your sides, before deepening the kiss.

If only you weren't too dazed to realize you'r little artist was tracing little hearts as he held your sides.

Projecting with fanfiction instead of communicating with them is my favorite thing

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thegreenthepeacetheorange · 1 year ago

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Everlark (Catching Fire, Ch. 14)

the parallel between katniss going into the first games to stay alive for prim vs her going into the second games prepared to die to keep peeta alive. like her dying wish is literally to keep peeta alive.

peeta not being able to sleep so just throwing himself into prepping for the games is so heartbreaking. because we don't hear about his perspective but i know his own nightmares returned tenfold. but he didn't share any of it with katniss. he just continued to stay up all night researching previous victors and games.

"because i can't handle the nightmares. not without you" - what katniss thinks when peeta asks why she's not going to bed. i cry. katniss is such a romantic and she doesn't even know it, and peeta telling her to go to bed, like the husband he is (i'm going to make a lot of peeta husband jokes in the next few posts but literally, they act like a married couple so was peeta even lying when he said they were married already in his interview)

peeta finally holding out his arms and give her the comfort she's been internally moping about since they announced the QQ!

i am actually not of the opinion that peeta kisses her neck here. "warmth radiates from the spot where his lips just touch my neck, slowly spreading through the rest of me. it feels so good, so impossibly good, that i know i will not be the first to let go" - i think his lips just grazed her neck during the hug and that was enough to make our feral girl go crazy.

again, peeta's touch/kisses are the only ones that cause warmth to grow in katniss herself (as far as i'm aware - contrasted to the heat that gale had that was only due to the the fire he was standing beside and didn't cause anything in her to want more). like it feels so good, after so long, that she doesn't want to let go. she's been staring at him sketching and fixating on his eyelashes for weeks now, without any particular touchiness between them and she has clearly been missing his affection so much.

and she doesn't care because gale won't see it which is so telling. she's not having conflicting thoughts because her feelings for both are the same - it's because she knows what gale wants and she feels bad that she doesn't really.

"[Gale] won't see it or he'll think i am acting for the cameras. that... is one weight off my shoulders" - he'll think, not he'll know. because katniss isn't acting. like i really think any doubt of her acting is gone at this point forwards in the books. none of their caresses, hugs or kisses are forced or fake from this point (apart from the baby nonsense), and she knows it herself because she doesn't throw in the caveats she did in the first book.

she curls up next to him on the sofa. katniss literally just wants to hold and to be held.

"just like peeta and me, [haymitch and maysilee] do better together"

#everlark #tgtpto everlark read #katniss x peeta #peeta x katniss #katniss and peeta #the hunger games #catching fire #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark

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atomicwrite · 2 years ago

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🎀 [NSFW] F!Reader x Shadow the Hedgehog

This is a request I received on Wattpad long ago ;; ♡

♡

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Req.: F!Reader x Shadow the Hedgehog - what if he has some alone time with you?

Reader is always Mobian and 18+!

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English is not my first language, I apologize for improper grammar and mistakes! ;v;

✼ •• ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ •• ✼

⚠ Warnings: NSFW; suggestive content

✼ •• ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ •• ✼

(Small note: reader is a cartographer for missions!)

You were sitting at your desk, your working room was dimly lit from the lantern you had hanging up behind you, drawing a map for a new mission you all will attend to while thoroughly examining the sketch snippets Rouge gave you.

With all your attention being drawn to that tiny piece of paper between your two fingers, you clearly didn't notice how someone entered the room, obviously careful not to make any noises to startle you.

You let out a soft sigh, putting the feather tip back into the tiny ink pot next to your map and awarded yourself with a nice little stretch.

"What are you doing?" You heard, felt, someone say, as they clearly brushed against the fluff of your ear.

Almost immediately, you flinched and let out a tiny gasp, your cold hands covering your ears as (e/c) orbs finally wandered up to meet crimson ones.

You continued to look into Shadow's eyes, almost as if they pull you into an infinite trance.

"N-nothing important..."

He noticed your embarrassment and chuckled slightly,

"Oh? You have such sensitive ears? I apologize, I", Shadow smirked and took ahold of one of your hand to uncover your ear and leaned down to whisper, "did not know. Not at all."

Initially, he came here to inform you about the mission, but now that you were looking at him with such an adorable and innocent expression, he couldn't resist to tease and play with you a little more.

Without a warning, his other hand slowly reached up to touch your delicate tail, gently rubbing it between his gloved fingertips.

"Sha-Shadow..."

You shivered in pleasure as you felt his warm fingers running on the tip of your tail before he stopped there and looked back at you,

"Cute. The noises you make... they sound so inappropriate."

Your face flushed red, whimpering as he began to trail his fingers down your tail, and, to your surprise, stopped right above your most sensitive spot. He gave your tail a gentle squeeze, eliciting a low moan from your lips which only made him grin.

You suddenly felt so small and devoted to him, as if you were no longer in control of anything anymore. As if he knew what you wanted better than you do.

It was a very intoxicating feeling, and it made you blush like crazy.

You didn't really mind, though.

"Hmhm~" He hummed, his thumb caressing over that very same spot before traveling lower, touching along your tailbone.

It was hard to think straight as your mind was clouded with an unknown feeling, one you've never encountered in this world or the last. It was like a warm fire burning inside you, spreading across your body like magic.

"Can't wait to hear what other cute noises you make."

His strong hands took ahold of your waist, pulling you up so he could make you sit down on the desk.

Shadow leaned down even more and took the side of your ear between both his lips, sucking on it gently before teasingly nibbling on it.

Your body felt like it was going numb from the sudden rush of pleasure you experienced in the matter of seconds, not even able to move or react as he started kissing your neck, making you moan softly as his lips trailed further down your throat until he reached your collarbone. His hands slowly lifted up your dress/shirt as he kept planting kisses on your sensitive skin/fur.

He moved on after that, kissing his way down your chest, leaving hot kisses down your stomach as you shivered from the strange sensation of his tongue running across your belly, causing you to breathe heavily, your eyes closed tightly.

It wasn't long before he finally reached your thigh, his soft kiss making you grip onto your desk as he continued to tease you.

"Mmhm..." He moaned and nipped lightly at your inner thigh, "So, I'm guessing this is where you get off."

You gasped and stuttered, unable to form words.

Shadow chuckled huskily, continuing his assault on your thighs, "You're so very cute when you blush. You should probably stop that though, because it's really distracting me."

He looked up at you as he pressed a finger inside you, letting out a pleased hum as he added another one, fucking you slow but deep with his fingers.

"H-How many fingers do you have...?" You managed to mumble through your pants, only to feel him chuckle again, "Just three. And judging by how good you are taking them, I'd say you love having my fingers inside you."

"Y-Yes..." You breathed, feeling his thumb run along your clit, causing you to shudder.

He kept going, pushing his fingers deeper inside you and then pulling them out before repeating the process over and over again, faster each time he went in and faster every time he pulled away until he finally gave you a few hard thrusts, burying his face into your mound and licking at your sensitive bud.

The combination of his tongue and his fingers made you lose your mind, moaning a little louder and shaking uncontrollably as he continued to play with you.

"Ah! Ah! Mmhmm...!" You shyly cried out, your hips buckling as you came, panting heavily as Shadow rubbed your clit with his thumb, making you tighten around his fingers.

Everything was so embarrassing and exciting at once, but at the same time, he seemed so calm and determined, as if nothing could stop him from getting his way. And somehow, he had this aura about himself that just made you want to obey him without hesitation.

When Shadow suddenly yanked his fingers out, making you whimper, you looked up at him and saw a smug smile on his face.

"I think I'll call this one 'the bingo'."

He said, standing up and walking towards the door,

"We're going to be late if we don't leave now."

His voice was stern and firm, but there was still a hint of playful curiosity in his tone. His gaze told you everything, and you knew he would be having fun with you for the rest of the day.

After he walked out of the room, you sit there, completely drained from the intense orgasm he just brought upon you.

#This is smut #shadow the hedgehog x reader #sonic x reader #sonic the hedgehog x reader

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foxufortunes · 7 months ago

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So like I was actually having this discussion in the comments of one of my fics at stupid in the morning, but like having thought it through for the day I'm here to messily rant my thoughts on the complicated relationship between the upperclassmen, mainly Dan, and the monsters, mainly Andrew, and Wymack. How Dan is terribly self righteous and hypocritical and lets her emotions get in the way of her captaincy at times. How Andrew doesn't care for the discomfort and fear he causes others and even revels in it, even without provocation. And how Wymack, for better or for worse, is a hands off coach who can't/won't inflict meaningful punishments on his team, even enabling their worst qualities and habits, as part of his ideal of giving people more chances and how that can create a hostile team environment.

Aka, I'm about to throw slander in every direction, because these are flawed, messy characters and trying to make any of them perfectly innocent or always right does a disservice to the well sketched, messy, imperfect, flawed characters Nora created. Blame goes everywhere and no one is innocent. Trauma is a reason, not an excuse.

Buckle up, guys, this is about to get long and messy.

So, let's start with Wymack, who's a bit trickier to explain than Dan and Andrew, but is also the reason they've been brought togethers. Wymack, as we see him on page, is a massively hands off coach, especially when you compare him to Coach Rhemann. Now, it's very possible that this is actually because Nora either wasn't confident/good enough to write him coaching vs where she is now ten years later, or because she didn't want to focus there (although logically for exy junkie Neil's pov that would be weird, but whatever, that's not what we're talking about) but whatever the reason out of universe, it leaves us with Wymack as hands off as possible in universe. (Also, sidebar, some people in this fandom need to learn that out of universe reasons still need to have an in universe reason, "it needed to happen for the plot" is an out of universe reason, but I still need to know why the characters did it beyond "for the plot" or it's bad writing, stop using that for an answer about "why did character X do Y?")

Anyway, Wymack lets the team basically run amuck and sort themselves out, and even enables their worst habits. I think its canon that Abby gets a tip when "random" drug tests are happening, and they certainly don't do anything to enforce the no drugs policies the school and NCAA and probably ERC would have. Wymack brought a bunch of troubled kids together and seems to have no plan beyond letting themselves work it out and Betsy's here if there's trouble. This is why the Matt situation happens. You let a struggling to stay sober drug addict be around other not even trying drug addicts, of course Matt was going to get worse. This is actively bad for him. And in turn then actively bad for Aaron.

His relationship with Andrew is a bit more complicated. Now, I need you to forget everything you know about Andrew through Neil and his backstory for a moment, and just look at Andrew through Wymack's eyes as he first met him. Andrew has been to juvie, and is currently on parole for another violent crime that Wymack may or may not know the actual details about and on medication that Wymack may or may not know what they actually are and do. Andrew asks to come off of them. Wymack says yes. Now, even putting aside the legality of this, Wymack took the unilateral decision that Andrew knows best about his meds and can come off of them. Now, we can talk plenty about how Andrew's medication is portrayed in canon, but plenty of people don't like meds that are actually good for them and try/do stop taking them, often without telling a doctor they're doing so. There's also the fact that, again irrelevant of what we know as the story goes, Andrew regularly drinks, smokes and misses doses, things that can all make medication not work as it should. Wymack is not a doctor, for all he knows he could actively making Andrew worse by allowing this, but does anyway, for a good defence line.

(Also another side note, where does canon get off calling the Foxes a laughing stock? They're five years old. Seth was part of the first batch, right? So they're five years old and made the championships in their fourth year of existing as a team, fuck off are they dead last laughing stocks.)

And this is part of what I don't get about Wymack. He both wants to win above what's good for his team and doesn't at the same time. For example, he's so hands off and enables their bad habits, things that could kill them and actively harm them. He puts Andrew on the bench because he doesn't need a third goalie despite him being better and seemingly rolls with the hierarchy of age over skill, which implies team feel goods over victory but is so invested in staying Class I he semi-regularly lets (and yeah, it's lets not makes but still) Andrew harm himself playing full games on withdrawals (again, as far as he knows potentially stopping his meds working right). And while it could be argued his situation with Andrew is more not wanting to give up on Andrew, that is an the expense of his other players. Anyone who's ever been in a situation where one or two people are hostile/seemingly unpunishable knows how bad that makes everyone else feel.

Because, let's be real, Andrew is unpunishable and they all know it. Cardio is one thing, but he doesn't go through with marathons and nothing else will work. Andrew doesn't care for his own contract, and even if we actually believed Wymack would go through with any threat again Kevin, Nicky or Aaron's contracts (and we all know he wouldn't) Andrew would probably sabotage the game in protest or just outright quit. Andrew gets away with everything and everyone knows it and that can quickly see your team stop respecting/trusting you or feeling safe when you say they are. It's a very dangerous line.

And this is where we finally get to Dan. Because yes, Dan hates Andrew, and is unprofessional in her bias against him. But I think we often forget where this comes from. You often see people talk about Columbia, and Andrew drugging Neil, and should Neil have been angrier, how his trauma impacted him moving on so quickly and whether Andrew's reasons were valid or not because he thought Neil was a threat. And sometimes you see people talk about what he did "to" Matt. Which, yes, wasn't great, and yes, Matt took the drugs himself, but really it wasn't a great move from Andrew. But how often do you see people talk about what he did to Dan?

I mean, let's get some context here. Andrew and Dan barely knew each other. Dan is already getting shit from every angle for daring to be a woman playing and captaining an exy team (and if you hc her as a woman of colour, double this) in a period of time where colleges did (and still do) have a terrible reputation for covering up the horrific assaults committed by their best NCAA athletes. And Andrew, with no provocation, or reason, invites her out, to his home turf, with his family, to a bar he worked out, without anyone to support her and look after her, and drugged her. To find out if she was a women worth following. Not because she was a threat. Because he wanted to find out what type of person she was. He wanted her tragic backstory and he wanted it now (something people criticise Dan for demanding a lot, by the way). Andrew and his group show no remorse and face no real repercussions and then go on to enable Matt getting falling off the wagon and taking potentially lethal mix of drugs, because his mom said it was fine so it's ok and it all worked out, ends justify the means, and is allowed to just carry on with again, no meaningful punishment. Because no harm, no foul, right? (funny how you'll apply that to Andrew but hate when Thea said it, huh?)

Is it any wonder Dan doesn't like or trust Andrew?

And lets be clear, Andrew does nothing to discourage this. Andrew doesn't want to be understood, he doesn't want to share. Andrew is not here angsting because no one understands his attempts to making friends (except maybe, big maybe, Aaron not understanding his attempts at brothering). Andrew is fine if the team doesn't trust him. He encourages it, because trust means friends means feelings means weakness and that's ew. It's not hard to see how, from Dan's pov, Wymack can't/won't punish Andrew and is more interested in winning so won't kick him off the team.

At the same time, Dan is just as complicit in Andrew's breaking the law and hurting himself by missing meds as Wymack. Again, for all she knows, his meds help him, and skipping could actively harm the help they're giving him. Again, she's putting winning, because they have this amazing goalkeeper, above both Andrew and the team's health, and then complains when he lashes out. Some meds need a consistent balance to work, and maybe if he wasn't skipping every Friday to help you win he'd be more stable (we know this isn't the case, but they don't). There's barely any resistance put up to the idea that Andrew plays entire games, because she also wants to win more than she cares about Andrew's health, while at the same time not caring about winning more than her pride, like the rest of the team who are more interested in fighting than winning.

Now, of course, Andrew doesn't care. I think Nicky has it right early on when he says Andrew doesn't care about your boundaries, just his. Andrew is here mostly because he wants to keep Nicky and Aaron close and sees providing value for them (protection, scholarships, controlling protection ect) as the only way to really do it. Andrew sees life as exchanges. But, for all we act like Andrew lives on fair exchanges, he doesn't. As I said, he drugged Dan because he wanted to know about her, what did he give her in return? Nothing. He violated her autonomy and gave her nothing in return. Not even his own backstory. Arguably not even respect. (please, take a minute to imagine how pissed you would be if someone in fanfic wrote Andrew being drugged just to get him to spill his trauma without him even being a threat to anything, or look at how people react to Neil's Columbia scene).

The upperclassmen constantly ignore and violate Andrew's boundaries in very clear ways, and any normal team would have backed off ages ago (or called the cops the first time he pulled a knife) but because they're Foxes they keep pushing. (Also, for all fandom likes to make him a knife nut, look at how often he actually pulls a knife vs punches, it's either rape jokes, or him/someone under his protection being cornered, day to day he goes without). Now, of course, Andrew is a lot of the problem of keeping the team in two halves (again, something any decent coach shouldn't allow to get that extreme) as we see with how well the team works when Andrew is at Easthaven, but we don't know how much effort the upperclassmen actually make (excluding Renee of course).

The upperclassmen are often the first to lash out, and Andrew is often only retaliating, and then the monsters will be blamed. And yes, this is complete hypocrisy. But from the more general day to day treatment, not in the moment when a punch is thrown but attitudes in general, Andrew has proven himself a threat over and over, without provocation. If you can excuse Andrew drugging Neil because he's a potential threat, then why is Dan being hostile to Andrew because he's proven himself a threat different? Is it professional? Probably not, but what else can Dan do? She can't punish Andrew and Wymack seemingly can't/won't either. In Dan's mind, she is being hypervigilant and watching Andrew and taking his actions for the worst possible scenario, because Andrew has given her reason to. A simple drink to get to know each other turned into drugging her and Matt being in awful condition. Why should she give him the benefit of the doubt? Andrew wouldn't return the favour.

In many ways, Andrew and Dan are mirrors of each other. The leaders of their respective groups, both constantly trying to watch out for threats, but while Dan sees the threat she's already experienced with Andrew, Andrew considers her nothing. He's already got all her secrets and cast her aside, not caring for the damage he's done, because she and her friends are nothing to, and he doesn't feel a hint of remorse. He did what he had to, the ends justify the means, and Wymack's gone through too much to get him to risk losing him. He's on a team that doesn't care about his boundaries any more than he cares about theirs and is more than happy to play the monster if it gets the job done.

This came off a little harsh on Andrew, despite that I love him and Dan actually grates on me, but honestly the start of the series he is kind of awful and Dan I can see where she's coming from. Like, I think sometimes we also forget even Neil hates Andrew at the start of the series. Everything he did with Neil, he did with the others, it's just that Neil had the persistence, and the trauma related need to compartmentalise and move on quickly rather than hold a grudge, and a usefulness to Andrew (and yeah, let's not forget the breakthrough is Kathy's show and Andrew realising Neil is useful to him) to let him get in with Andrew so he can start to see the real him, while Andrew keeps the upperclassmen at arm's length.

And wow, congrats and thanks to anyone who read all the way through this monster ramble.

#all for the game #aftg #the foxhole court #andrew minyard #dan wilds #david wymack

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crsssie · 1 year ago

Text

'cause I know I'll never live that fantasy

word count: 4.0k

warnings: angst

summary: You can't go see Tim— so you leave.

The first time you meet Tim, the two of you are blinking at each other, introducing yourselves to the group, names on your chest, empty-handed. The two of you are strangers. Two people who have never met in their life, unaware of each others' existence, eyes meeting for the first time of many. You don't know what Tim is thinking. You don't understand what is going through Tim's head the first time he meets you. You find that you never really will.

Is he being friendly? Is he flirting?

You could never tell.

"Tim Drake." He smiles at everyone, pausing at you, eyes meeting yours.

You look away.

It goes around the circle until it's you, and you say your name, meeting no one's eye.

You glance at him and then his pin, noticing the different color. He's a helper, not an attendee.

He's at least three years older than you according to the rules.

Or maybe he isn't. You don't know.

But god is he cute.

You miss the way he tilts his head at you when you introduce yourself. (Your roommate tells you later on. She's called Nat. You never told her what happened between the two of you)

Activities move on without much. You find that he's a decent sport, competitive in nature, yet never hesitating to cheer up the other teens he's in charge of. It doesn't matter. You force yourself to tear your eyes away from him, talking to your friend, giggles and whispers slipping from your lips, listening to her as she stares at the Asian guy on the other team. You tell her your other roommate has a crush on the other guy from the team, grinning as you do. You can see why. He has striking blue eyes.

But the first day you meet Tim passes just as fast, the two of you barely speaking. Tim's just another cute guy at the retreat. You would never get to see or talk to him afterward, so there was no point in getting attached to anyone in the group— especially not when the majority of them were still super young.

But you get to know the adults, one of them speaking your mother tongue to you, another speaking the same languages as Tim, the final speaking both.

He's cute, but you'd never make a move on him.

So the first day ends like that, strangers still, nothing to feed your delusions, nothing to cling onto your heart painfully. Nothing for you to hold onto— the week still the same. You don't know anything about him other than the fact that he's still too old for you at this age, and the gap was too much for you. You focus on Nat's gushing over another guy instead, feeding her delusions, giggling as the two of you count over what to share to your third roommate.

You hope she's feeling better.

.☁.

The second time you meet Tim, the two of you are discussing how to make an F1 vehicle with cardboard. Well, he's talking to one of the teens in his group who has no idea what an F1 car even is. You step in, offering quiet discussion, taking the booklet from the boy as you sketch a side view of the car, mentioning the physics behind it. You don't know what stroke of luck this is, but it's a stroke of luck nonetheless since you were doing research on the car earlier in the morning for your writing.

Tim stares at you all the time while you're writing, eyes digging into your face, making you slightly nervous, but you push it to the back. You really want to build an F1 car. It'd be helpful for your writing too. Too helpful. You might have the characters build a car together if you're that desperate.

So Tim puts you in charge of making the engines (really, just balloons and straws), and you listen, blowing into the straws after using the hot glue to seal the hole, checking to see if it inflates— it does, so you head back to your group, handing them to Tim as he finishes drawing the base for the car. Without second thought, Tim presses the straws to his lips and blows. Your eyes widen in mild surprise, and it hits Tim once the balloon deflates.

"No one else touch the straws, I already blew into it." He orders. You look to the side, grimacing. Too late?

Yet it goes smoothly. It's supposed to smoothly. You finished your task— you're supposed to be able to slack off now. Yet, by some cruel twist of fate, you're called back to the hot glue station, sitting down across from Tim, your roommate leaving you with him since apparently he would only listen to you. She tried teaching him how to use the glue gun, only for him to thoroughly mess up and not listen to her.

"Heard you suck at this." You take the remaining side piece from him, reaching for the gun.

"Yeah... help me out?"

Your heart stutters at his voice, and you tell him to hold the car up as you apply a layer of glue to the bottom of the piece, sticking it on, telling him to hold it in place and leave the glue alone. He listens, holding it as your roommate hands you the top piece.

"No, no." Tim mumbles, pulling out two cardboard flaps. "Back piece first."

You glue it in as Tim holds it in place again, and you're told the two of you have barely any time left. At that point, the two of you give up on boundaries as your fingers brush Tim's too many times to count, him doing the same as the two of you rush to finish putting the car together, last-minute adjustments made to get the balloons out of the wheel's way. Your knuckles brush so often that the two of you should technically get scolded for giving up boundaries, but the two of you don't care; your heart giving up on stuttering, desperation overtaking the two of you, brows furrowed in annoyance.

Tim looks at your name badge halfway through the building, saying your name, eyes meeting yours, eerily sincere. You raise a brow at him, but he offers no explanation, a mild praise slipping past his lips instead, as he continues with another idea to keep the balloons up. (You didn't think him calling your name would be embedded into your memory this clearly.)

You finish with three minutes to spare, telling Tim to do a final test run before you set it down to run.

You chew on your bottom lip, but Nat places a hand on your shoulder, telling you that you did your best. "It doesn't matter if we win or lose. Didn't you have fun building it?"

"Yeah." You laugh, a fond laughter that seems nostalgic. "I had fun building it. I'll tell Tim it's fine if we lose."

You step behind Tim, peering over his shoulder, a smile on your lips as he turns to look at you.

"Did you have fun?"

Tim blinks at you. "Yeah." He laughs. "I did."

"Then it doesn't matter if we lose." Your lips curl upward a little more. "Because I had fun too."

Tim's lips pull slightly more upward as the kid next to him moves to the side so you can get a good view of the race track. Tim's hand presses into your shoulder, still a little anxious despite the words you had given him. You let him, a little freaked out over how he could just assume you were alright with it, but still, you make no move to get him off of you. He adjusts so that he's leaning on you later, elbow on your shoulder, body weight leaned into you, free hand still holding the car you built.

In the group photo afterward, Tim tries to get you to stand in the front, only for you to duck behind him, peeking past his shoulder, photo on his phone as he makes fun of you for using an emoticon as your phone name. You stick your tongue out at him for it, but Tim means no harm. The rain outside roars.

(You miss the way his gaze lingered on you for a little longer as you ran through the rain without an umbrella.)

.☁.

The third time you meet Tim, the two of you meet under a clear sky, the two of you waiting for the bus to take you to the trail with the rest of the group. The group has shrunk— from sixteen people to ten. Six people skipped going on the hike with the rest of the group. You stay with Nat and your other roommate (a girl who's always running off to talk to her cousin. The cute guy from the first day is in his group.)

Tim has shades on today, the sun too much, and you duck under the shade. Neither of you talk to each other, yet Tim slips next to you when the adults start counting your group, offering you a small smile. He laughs when you joke about how the heavens listened to you when you said you wanted to sit on the double-decker. You don't end up sitting on it, but the advantage of a small group is that you're squeezed into the back of the final bus, listening as he talks to another kid in your group.

At the base of the mountain you're hiking, you decide that it's going to be hell.

You are not athletic enough for this.

Yet, Tim trails behind you with another adult, the two of them staying by you as you drag yourself up the awful slope.

"Tired already?" Tim raises a brow at you.

You stare at him in exasperation, exhaustion all over your face. "Yes."

Tim smiles. "The two of you stay safe, alright? I'm going to see how the others are doing."

You watch as he runs off, the delusions in your head coming full stop.

if he liked you, he would have stayed behind.

Yet you find yourself in a conversation with the adult, learning a little about her background, her words providing a nice distraction from the lack of music. You forgot your AirPods at home. Nat said you wouldn't need it, but at the rate that you were falling behind from the rest of the group— you definitely needed them. Maybe the music would have helped you walk faster and walk up quicker. But it doesn't matter, not when you finally meet up with the rest of the group, exhaustion all over your face.

Your face drops in horror at the higher climb ahead of you.

"No." You groan. "NO!"

Nat laughs at you, patting your back gently. "Once you cross that, it'll be over."

You stare at her in disbelief, and in the corner of your eye, you catch Tim chuckle. You grumble as you pull out your water, downing a couple of sips, and Tim speaks up while staring at his own bottle.

"I probably should have drank less." He grimaces.

"You'll sweat it all out." Nat waves her hand at him dismissively.

You wonder if you should use the portable before you leave.

"I mean, if we need to." Tim's lips curl upward. "Use the waterbrooks."

"Okay, first of all, no." Your other roommate stares at him in disgust.

"Full disclosure, I haven't done it since I was a boys scout." Tim holds his hands up.

You wonder if that explains why his arms are muscular.

But your other roommate (already over the idea of staying on the mountain any longer than she has to) insists that you all just eat your lunch and move on. You're not hungry either, so you agree with her, sitting with her on the stone in the grass, biting into the wafer bar, eyes lingered on Tim as he sits in the grass across from you, pulling on the kid who was going insane, stopping him from tackling one of his friends.

(Your heart races at his ability to balance being their friend and the one in charge.)

Yet just as quickly as the rest, the majority of you head off, the girls in your room racing up the giant ass mountain, you staying behind, dying on the stairs, pausing every couple of minutes with the woman from earlier, her hands offering to hold your bag, and you adjust your jacket, taking it off and tying it around your neck. You pause to take a photo of the scenery around, and Tim catches up behind you, slowing down to walk up the stairs with you, laughing as you heave.

"You good?"

"No." You deadpan, inhaling and exhaling.

Tim hums. "At least you're not sweating."

You stare at him incredulously. "My back is drenched."

Tim pauses to stare at you, blinking twice, next words punching the air out of your lungs.

"At least you look good while sweating."

His next words don't register in your head after the compliment (something about how he sweats first from his face?), and you watch as he races back up the stairs after the kid he was with originally. His words ring in your head and render you stupid, cheeks flushed from his stupid words. And even when he's cheering with Nat to give you more energy to reach the (presumed) top of the mountain, his words are still in your mind.

You let out a yell of frustration when you realize there are more stairs.

The group presses onward, and you drag yourself up with the adult, picking up another girl in your group along the way, the three of you dying every four steps up the trail. You think you're going to die. You think you're going to lose your mind. You make it up to the second resting area, the rest of the group waiting for you again. For a second— for a fucking second, you think you're at the top.

You take a photo there (It's not the top), but you take a photo there anyway.

You yell again when you realize it's not the top of the mountain.

"Come on, you're practically there." Nat pats your back twice before walking on, joining your other roommate.

You swear you're hitting the stairmaster when you get home.

(at some point, you manage to catch a kid ask Tim why he was able to run along so quickly. He tells him that it's because he has legs of steel from biking.)

When you finally reach the top, you think your life is in shambles, but you cheer when you notice the rest of the route is downhill, and you groan in bliss when you finally find a place to sit down and stretch your legs. You take another bite of your sandwich, agreeing with your roommate about hurrying up this time, ignoring the way Tim complains as you skip off to head downhill. You trudge at the front of the group this time.

Your room talks about boys and vampires, going over shows and having conversations about crushes, and you dare not to tell them that you liked the other helper in your group. You feel as though you'd get nailed to the cross and set on fire Salem Witch Trials style if you opened your mouth and admitted. For hell's sake, you still don't know his age.

Your bunch reaches the end of the trail first, staying still as the two kids with your room follow along with Tim, the boy raising a brow as the girl tells the boy to shut up while she was memorizing the main focus. You raise a brow at Tim, lacking a packet with the memorization portion on it. Nat asks the question instead.

"Do you not need to look to check?"

"They've tried memorizing it so many times that I have it memorized." Tim laughs dryly. "You said it wrong, by the way. It's supposed to be foretaste then full taste."

You brighten. "That happened to me with my friend! She was memorizing something and she had done it so many times that I had it memorized halfway through."

Tim smiles at you, pointing at you as he affirms his memorization. He steps next to you, pausing at the rock on the ground. "heart rock."

Your neck cracks as you turn to look at it, causing Nat to laugh at the sound.

Your phone is in your hand as you try to take a photo of the rock, but Tim sits on top of it, and you grumble. Tim stumbles a little, settling for an asian squat instead, and you take the opportunity to take a photo of the rock. You look at the photo as Tim speaks up, facing you.

"Can you asian squat?"

You turn to look at him, squatting down immediately, perfect balance. "I can do this, but I heard actual asian squatting is when both of your feet are next to each other."

"Oh!" Nat goes into the position, and she grins. "We do this too!"

The two of them pick up on a conversation as you notice the last person in your group to rush down the hill, letting you bunch go. You don't remember much after that, Tim's words still ringing in your ears.

.☁.

It rains before you meet Tim for the fourth time.

However, instead of meeting him at the activity itself, your room bumps into his while heading down from your cabin, pausing to stare at him as you blink in surprise.

"Oh, hey! Where are you all staying? How come we never see you?"

"Cabin 12C." Mari (you finally remember your other roommate's name at this point) points up the path. "All the way at the top."

One of the boys with Tim grimaces.

"Does that mean you guys have to walk all the way from here to the other tent?" Nat raises a brow.

"Yeah, takes around fifteen minutes." Tim hums. "Come on, let's get going."

The fourth day you meet Tim, the two of you are pressed shoulder to shoulder as you scream over having another hill to climb. Your legs feel like pins and needles from the hike previously, the eleven kilometers on your phone proof of such, your disgust all over your face, and halfway through, you tap out and offer to figure out the puzzle. You stay back with a couple of kids, searching through the book, answers scribbled messily on your phone, and you rush over to Tim as he comes back with the final codes.

"We got all the codes!"

"We have everything except for one question." You hold your phone to him, and Tim brightens.

"Write them down, now." He hands you the clipboard, and you push it back into him.

"Table. Can we head to a table first?"

"Of course."

The group rushes over to the table, scribbling messily on the paper as you read the answers to Mari, her writing much more legible than yours or something. The final answer is found as you write down the answers, and the group starts brainstorming for an overall theme. Tim hops on the table at some point, shoulder pressed to yours, bare skin brushing yours as you lean over to look at the paper.

You ask Tim what the college conference topic was on when he hits a block..

He tells you, but he makes small talk with you.

"And you?"

You laugh, a little embarrassed, turning to look at Tim, lashes fluttering. "Not in college yet. I'm going in this September."

You feel Tim visibly pause, his breath catching in his throat as you swallow uncomfortably. Maybe this was the end of the conversation. You try and save it.

"Then were you at the one earlier this summer?"

"No," Tim shakes his head. "I've actually never been there, so I'd love to go sometime."

"I welcome you." You smile. "It's always super enjoyable."

"Yeah? Wanna share to me about it?"

And you take him up on the offer, telling him about all the information you remember from the conference, counting out on your fingers, rambling about the topics. You don't know how Tim is looking at you. The only thing you know is that he's staring at you, eyes digging into your cheek as you look over the sheet again, brainstorming for new ideas eventually.

You never catch Tim staring at you. It's a shame, really.

Though, as you submit the paper and take a final group photo, you ask Tim for the photos, and Tim sends them to you. That's the end.

The end of a story you won't ever get to see again.

Even when you text your friends about him and they tell you he's your soulmate, you can't continue the story.

(Before leaving, though, Nat tells you that Tim's three years older than you. You wonder how she could tell that you liked him.)

.☁.

The fifth time you're supposed to see Tim, you don't.

You stop at the store, buying two cans of tea, one for the road and one for the day, and you wonder if you should go to the main tent where you're sure Tim is. You're almost positive that Tim is there, but the better part of you decides against it, desperate to have no strings attached to the place. You can't see him one last time. You've deluded yourself into thinking that he's into you when he's just being friendly, and you've deluded yourself into thinking that you are capable of being loved.

You can't go see Tim.

So, you leave.

(You take a shortcut to your cabin so you can avoid the risk of seeing Tim again.)

.☁.

On the last day before you leave, you catch one of the girls in your team, asking how she was getting home. She mentions a bus for her group, all of them going to drive home together. It's an eight to nine-hour drive, and you smile, waving goodbye to her as she rushes off with her friends.

Your heart aches as you sit on the bus, chewing on your bottom lip, but not a single cell in your body regrets getting to know Tim. Even if you had deluded yourself into thinking that maybe he liked you, it wouldn't work out. Long distance with a guy you had met only four times was never a smart idea.

So, you open your laptop, a new document pulled up, heartstrings tugging with your fingers as you type the tale.

.☀.

Tim looks out the window at you as you roll your luggage down the road.

He likes you.

His heart stutters in his chest, and he wonders, maybe you like him too. Maybe you would see him again the following year, and maybe he'd get to visit you in four years time, or maybe you would make the first move and join him later in the year, but Tim knows deep down that he likes you.

He fell for someone he had known for four days, all because of a couple brushes of skin on skin, not even intentional half of the time.

Tim forces his eyes away from the window to continue packing his own luggage, silently praying that maybe, just maybe, he would get to see you again next year.

And if not the next, then in four.

Because Tim feels his own heart tug with yours as he's not aware of what you're doing, too much of a coward to ask for your number, too scared to tell you anything that he's aware of. He was nearly done with college, yet there you were, about to start. It's too early. You're too young for him, but god if he just had one chance, he'd cling onto you.

But it's too early for it, and it's too late to try harder.

Tim can only pray you show up the next year.

#tim drake x reader #tim drake imagine #tim x reader #I HATE TAGGING FOR HIMMM #red robin x reader #red robin imagine #☾.fics

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