#about him being an old hag i mean | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thehouseofurmotha · 4 months ago

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`✵•.¸,✵°✵.｡.✰ 𝕃𝕠𝕦𝕕 𝕓𝕝𝕠𝕟𝕕𝕖 ✰.｡.✵°✵,¸.•✵´★

Pairing: Bakugou x Aizawa's Daughter Reader

Warnings: Fluff, lots of fluff! Bakugou is vry anxious, a lil bit of cussing, possibly ooc Bakugou

Summery: you finally convince your boyfriend Katsuki Bakugou to meet your father. Little do they both know they already know each other.

"Katsuuuuuu" you whine pouting at your grumpy boyfriend. Even though you know that his anger is nothing more than a cover for every other emotion he's feeling, and right now you can tell he's anxious. No matter how many times you have asked him to meet your father you've been turned down with a simple 'I'm not ready yet', and even if you understands the boy's anxiety it doesn't make you any less disappointed.

"S'not that I don't wanna meet him doll, you know I do. Jus' what if he thinks I'm not good enough for you. You're just so perfect, and so calculated. Then m'jus reckless me." Letting out a long sigh afterwards because he really does want to meet the man who raised the girl he's so lucky to call his girlfriend, but he's scared. Rightfully so he thinks, because he really never will be good enough to deserve you.

"Kats, he's going to love you. I know me telling you probably won't end up changing how you feel, but you are good enough for me. You're everything I want, you treat me better than anyone else could, and if my father cannot see that he is painfully blind." You haven't had the heart to tell him who exactly your father is, especially with it being his teacher. You know it would only freak him out more, and that's the last thing that you need to do.

You know your boyfriend honestly probably better than you know yourself. As you've known him since you were in middle school. You can read him in a way no one else can. They see his brash. angry personality on the outside and they immediately assume that's all he is. Is a loud angry kid, but you, you see the parts of him that no one else is allowed to. You see the passion he has, the love he has for saving people, you see his softness. He's a different person around you. You bring out the best in him in ways that no one else could ever dream to do. As he does to you, because he also sees the parts of you nobody else has been allowed to see before. He knows your greatest fears, and the things that inspire you. He's supportive of your dreams as you are his. He'd never judge you, especially about the fact that you're not becoming a hero. Instead opting to take general studies at U.A. where you focus your studies on hero analysis instead.

"Do you mean it?" There's a hint of pain in his voice that would go unnoticed by anyone but you.

"Of course I do" you say as you gently cup his face with your hands. Then he gives you a look, one that is full of love. Love for you, and it's almost enough to make you tear up. But you fight it as to not spook him.

"Okay my love, I'll meet him." He gives you a small smile, and you think your heart may have melted right there.

"How about dinner at my house this Saturday kats? I'll make your favorite and we'll just have a nice evening." You say with an encouraging smile. You know how hard this must be for him and you're so incredibly proud of him.

"Okay, I'll let the old hag know that I'll be out be out for the evenin." He gently leans his forehead against yours after placing a gentle kiss to your forehead. You love how gentle his is with you, like at any moment you could break in his grasp.

You giggle as you playfully hit his shoulder, "Stop calling her that Kats." Before he has the chance to respond your phone starts blasting your alarm, telling you that it's time to start your walk home.

"M'gonna miss you." He says as you carefully get out of his lap and stretch as you stand up.

"I'll call you as soon as I'm home, and we can stay on the phone all night." This answer seems to satisfy him as he stands up and gives you a kiss before grabbing your jacket to help you put it on.

"Goodbye katsu, I'll talk to you later." Giving him a peck on his cheek and opening the door to his room.

"Yeah, whatever bye nerd." Even though that would come off as rude to anyone else, it places a large smile on your face as you make your way out of his house. It really is a gorgeous house, his parents have wonderful taste.

As you start on your walk you think about how the conversation with your father will go. He'll more than likely be getting ready for his night-shift of patrol. He knew you were seeing someone but other than that he knew no details. You had never been one to share the details of your love life and he knew that, so he chose not to push. Hoping that you would trust him enough to tell him anything important.

As you arrive home, you put your key in the lock and carefully unlock the door. As you open the door to your guys apartment, you immediately see your father in the kitchen dressed in his hero suit making himself coffee. It was the only way he got through his night shifts. As he sees you he starts to walk over to you before giving you a hug and a kiss to the top of your head.

"Welcome home hun, how's your day been?" He says pulling away and giving you a smile. He knows you can handle yourself but there's a certain relief that comes with knowing that you're safe in your home.

"It's been good, but I've got something to talk to you about." As you say this his heart beats a little quicker, maybe something happened. He's already thinking of every horrible thing that could have happened to you. You gently place your hand on his shoulder taking him out of his thoughts.

"Saturday, my boyfriend's going to come over for dinner. So he can meet you." He sighs in relief, he can handle that. It's simply just meeting the boy who has stolen your heart. He's noticed the way you've changed, since you've started hanging out with that boy. You seem happier, calmer even. But all he knows is that it's been a change for the better, and he can tell this boy makes you happy. So, even though trusting someone else with the care of the most important person to him is terrifying. He knows you're happy and healthy, that's all that'll ever matter to him.

"Alright that's fine, but you're cooking cause you know I can't for shit." You let out a small giggle at this comment, because he really cannot cook to save his life.

"Already planned on it dad!" He could spend the rest of his life like this. In the sweet moments between the two of you. Due to his busy schedule he doesn't get to see you as much as he would like. Even though he knows you don't blame him, and never would he can't help but feel some guilt. He never wants you to feel like he's abandoning you in the way your mother did.

"Alright hun, I've got to leave for patrol, there's some money on the counter for you to order yourself dinner. I should be home around 3. Have a good night, I love you." Once again he plants a kiss to your forehead, with a small smile forming on his lips.

"Thank you, I love you too dad. Have a good patrol!" And with that he leaves for the night.

You spend some time debating on what to get, with the help of Katsuki's opinions. After you get your food and eat you and him both decide that it's time for bed. You fall asleep to the sound of his soft snores feeling the most content that you have in years.

The rest of your week goes by normally. With the same routine of going to school, seeing your boyfriend, and going home. A simple routine but one that you've grown to love. The normalcy of everything is so comforting to you. And before you know it Saturday has arrived. Throughout the day you're excited, you think. You're not actually really sure how you feel, you want to be exciting but then there's the thought of what if it doesn't go well. And now you're suddenly wondering if Kats will be mad that you didn't tell him who your father was. As it gets closer to the time that was agreed upon by the three of you, the panic starts to really set.

This does not go unnoticed by your father as he is an extremely observant man. Yet, for what feels like one of the first times in his life, he doesn't know how to comfort you. He wants to promise you that he'll like your boyfriend but he knows there's always a chance that promise would be broken. And he doesn't want to do that to you. He settles in just trying to tell you he'll be nice. He walks into the kitchen where you've started making curry. You're making two kinds because you know your father cannot handle the spice. You don't acknowledge his presence but he's aware you know that he is with you.

"Hey, uh I promise I'll be nice tonight, but I can't promise that I'll like him." He says as gently as he can, but he feels like that last part may have come out a little harsh.

"I know dad, it's not really you I'm worried about. He's just.. He's so anxious but it comes out in a way that's harsh, and I don't want you to think less of him." It was a hard confession for you to make to him. Fearing that he might connect the dots before your boyfriend gets here.

"I'll keep it in mind kid, because I know you're happy. I see it on your face." He walks back to his room as he says that. But it leaves a smile on your face. And it reminds you how much he truly cares about you.

You think about Katsuki the entire time you cook. Thinking about his smile that is so contagious to you. He's smiling and you are too. About his hair, and the way it's so pointy. Yet it somehow manages to be so soft too. His voice that is so loud and harsh with others, but is so gentle and soft with you. You think about the way he looks while he cooks. He'll say he enjoys your food tonight, and he might. But you both know that he is absolutely the superior cook. You think about his handsome face. Everything about it being so perfect and fitting together so well. The red of his eyes, and the small bags that fall under them. Everything about him is so perfect.

Eventually, you're interrupted from your thoughts by a knock on the door. 'Shit' you think is it really already time. You quickly go to open the door and you're pleasantly surprised at the sight in front of you. Your lovely boyfriend dressed nicer than you think you've ever seen. Wearing a nice pair of jeans and a red dress shirt that brings out his eyes. He's also holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers.

"Uh. Here these are for you." He says has he shoves them into your hands. You smile at him.

"Thank you they're gorgeous. Would you uh, like to come in?" No matter how long you guys are together you'll honestly probably always have these small awkward moments between the two of you that you've grown to love.

"Oh uh yeah." He nods his head as he accepts your invitation and walks into your house. Taking a mental note of his surroundings, the place you, the girl he loves lives. He thinks it's simple, but nice, even more than his own house.

"Uh, by the way don't kill me for not telling you." You hear your father start coming down the hall and feel this is your last chance to say anything. And you decide to plead for your life. He looks at you with complete and utter confusion.

"Huh?" He says this as your father walks into the room and as the realization hits him, you see the color drain from his face. You look at your father and he has the same look on his face. Katsuki's seems to be more out of fear and your father's more out of shock.

"Y/n what did I say about loud blondes?" He says with a sigh, but you know he's not mad. He may just be trying to freak Katsuki out a little more.

With a giggle you respond, "to stay away from them?" Katsuki looks at you like you're crazy, you can only wonder what's going through his head. You take his hand giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"Uh- hi Aizawa-sensei." He says with a shake in his voice. You can tell he's scared and you feel so bad for not telling him. You realize that it was a mistake you shouldn't have hid it from him, you should have just told him. But you don't have time to keep thinking before your father responds.

"Hello Bakugou, I'm assuming you were as left in the dark about this as I was?" Your father sends you a small glare.

"Uh yeah sir I was." He says huffing and shoving the hand that wasn't holding yours in his pocket, as he glares intensely at the floor.

"Msorry- I didn't know how to tell you guys.. I'm sorry." You say meekly, you really hadn't known how to tell them.

"it's okay, m'jus a little shocked." Now it's his turn to give your hand a comforting squeeze. He really isn't mad at you, but he does wish you had told him before. But that's something the two of you can talk about another day.

"I know you make my daughter happy Bakugou, so I'm not mad. And I know you'll be able to protect her. But this will not change our relationship at school, do not expect anything to be easier for you. If anything be prepared for it to be harder, if it's my daughter you'll be protecting." Your father sends a look to your boyfriend that conveys how serious he is about his words.

"Yeah yeah sir, I wouldn't want it any other way." He send a glare straight back at your father, you know this is his way of proving himself to the older man. So for now, you won't get in the way, as long as it doesn't get to out of hand.

"We should probably go eat before dinner gets cold." The two men nod in agreement before you guys make your way to the dining room. You sit next to Katsuki and your father sits on the other side of the table. You give both of them plates before making your own.

"I hope you enjoy it." You say with a weak smile. You watch as the both of them start eating and Katsuki gives you one of those looks that just shows you how much he is in love with you.

"Shit babe, this is so fuckin good." He says before taking anything bite. And this makes you giggle and return him the smile. Your father watches with an amused smirk and he realizes that calming the loud blondes may run in the family.

The rest of dinner goes well, you guys all talk and you father seems to accept of Katsuki. And that makes you happier than anything, seeing the two most important people in your life get along.

A/n: RAAAAH okay so I fear it's late and I'm a little eepy so I kinda rushed the end, so I might come back and change it or I'll js leave it I don't know! But this is the first time in a rlly long time I've written so it honestly probably sucks but I fear it's okay chat. I hope you at least someone enjoyed it!

Pt. 2, pt. 3

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sweetnans · 7 months ago

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The teachers always said that you looked like a couple of grown-ups. The love that they expected from Bakugo to somebody else wasn't like the one that he gave you daily. They were stunned, to say the least. He became someone softer, someone who cared, someone who could stay quiet and just exist, not in loudly way.

The battle has just begun. You did your best trying to evacuate the town that was close to the hospital, and you were tired, strained just like your other classmates, Izuku, Ochaco, and Shoto.

The heroes set up multiple campaign tents to refuge the people and the heroes as well. They didn't have any news about what happened in Jaku but you could guess.

"You okay?" He said sitting beside you. Putting his arm behind your shoulders so you can lean on him.

"I'm tired and still shocked," you answered, looking around you. People running, trying to communicate with the other teams and with their relatives too. It was a mess. "We could've die"

"But we didn't," he shrugged simply. He was like that, the rock that grounded you to the earth when you tended to be emotional. "I'll never let anything happen to you, y'know"

"I know," you whispered, trying to restrain the tears that pricked in your eyes. "It's just... I'm scared that I'll lose you"

"Hah? What do you mean?" He elevated his voice just an octave to prove his points. He wanted to be loud, but the circumstances weren't very propitious.

"I know you, you say a lot that you don't care, but you do, and I'm afraid that you trying to save everyone is going to end up in you being hurt" you whispered, like you were telling a secret to him. "I'm so used to you. Please don't do anything stupid that will end up in you leaving me"

Being in a relationship with Bakugo was more easy than you could believe, but it wasn't a walk in the park either. He didn't do emotions so well, and even if you did, you didn't show them often to not make him uncomfortable. But right now, you were dying to tell him everything and get it off of your chest.

After a long silence, you looked at him. His arm pressed tightly in your back. He was looking to nothing, passed the forest, just staring and thinking. You were everything to him, and it was unfair that both of you had to have this conversation so early in your life, damn you were only seventeen.

"I promise that nothing is going to happen to me or you, I'll always be here to protect you and keep you safe"

He looked directly to your eyes and pulled you tightly to his side. He wanted you to know that he meant it, every word. He would keep you safe and be safe just so you can't suffer.

"I love you, Katsuki," you said tearing up a little.

He rolled his eyes when he saw that little tear spilled from your right eye.

"Yeah, yeah, I love you too, brat." he cleaned the stain from the tear of your face and reached something behind himself. "Got you soup, I bet you haven't eaten"

"Thanks," you said, taking it from his hand.

The silence between the two of you was pretty comfortable. You enjoyed the company of each other more than you could ever expect, the quietness, you wouldn't even imagine it from the loudest of your classmates.

"I can't die," he said out of nothing. You glanced at him with a lifted brow. "Who's going to take care of you? Shitty hair? Fucking Deku? No way, I'm not leaving your side".

You laughed at him while shaking your head, he was something else.

"You still got concrete on your face," you pointed out while taking a spoon of soup.

"Can you believe that a group of old hags tried to take it off with their wet fingers?" He said with disgust all over his face.

"Wet with...

"Saliva" he stated looking at you with big eyes.

"Ew," you said, shrieking with laughter. "Let me do it for you"

You wet your finger, and he let you willingly. After you smudged the concrete out of his face, you sealed it with a loud kiss in his cheek.

"Y'know what I think of PDA," he quirked a brow at you.

"And you know what I think of what you think"

You answered, kissing him all over his face to prove your point. He gave up after a few kisses, kissing you back.

#bnha bakugou #bakugou smut #bakugo smut #bakugo x reader #bakugo headcanons #bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugou #mha bakugo katsuki #mha x reader #mha bakugou #mha #my hero academy fanfiction #my hero academia #bnha

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ventismacchiato · 19 days ago

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12 stuck with you — kiss kiss fall in love !

scaramouche x gender neutral reader

The ringing of a phone pierces through the quiet and drags you from sleep. Disoriented, you blink at the dim light seeping in through the skylight. The sound was vibrating against the bedside table and as you reached for it half-asleep you felt the unmistakable warmth of someone's body tangled with yours.

Your eyes fly open. Scaramouche.

You feel the way your body tenses up, as it usually does when you’re with the idiot. You turn your face and find him just inches away from yours. The pillow you’d place between you two long gone on the floor as the only thing separating you both was the thin comforter.

For a moment, Scaramouche looks oddly peaceful, with his dark hair tousled against the pillow and his brows not creased in its usual scowl towards you. That’s until his eyes open from the sound and he sends you a glare.

“Shut that up,” he grumbles, sitting up and reaching over you to shut it off himself. His body hovers over you and you can see his shirt hang low enough to see his stomach. The warmth of his body radiates through the thin fabric separating you both, and for a split second, you’re hyper-aware of just how close you are. The gentle weight of him leaning over makes your pulse quicken.

You expected him to make a snide comment about how your legs were still tangled together but he doesn’t. It's as if waking up practically wrapped around each other is just another morning for you two. He doesn't acknowledge it, doesn’t even meet your eyes, and for some reason, that silence makes the moment even more charged.

With the phone in hand, he flops back into his spot beside you, muttering something under his breath, the tension between you two as palpable as the fading echo of the ringtone as he wordlessly lays away from you.

“Fuck do you want you old hag,” Scara grumbles, putting the phone on speaker.

“Good morning!” Yae Miko’s voice is far too cheerful for this hour. “We’ve got a little emergency. Some rumors are starting to circulate about the show being fake.”

Your blood runs cold. “Wait, what?"

"Exactly what it sounds like," Yae continues, almost too calm for the bomb she's dropping. "Which means we need you two to handle it. Get dressed and head to the hot tub. We’ll film a ‘leaked’ kissing scene to throw people off. Make it look real.”

"At five in the morning?" Scaramouche groans, his voice laced with annoyance.

Yae’s voice, ever so sly, comes back through. “Is there a problem? Oh, and don’t forget to make it convincing. The public loves a good scandal!”

You reach over and hang up without answering, already dreading the awkwardness that’s about to unfold. You both lay there for a few minutes, your upcoming fate and lack of sleep not motivating either of you.

“I can see you both slacking off!” Lisa’s voice from the intercoms yell, causing you both to sit up abruptly.

“Fucking perv,” Scara mutters, sliding the comforter off as you follow suit.

“Let’s just get it over with,” you say, avoiding his gaze.

He scoffs but doesn’t argue, instead dragging himself up and throwing on the same outfit from last night. You do the same, trying not to think about the fact that you’ll be practically glued to him in about ten minutes.

By the time you make it to the hot tub, the early morning air bites at your skin, the sky still dark. The hot water looks almost inviting compared to the chill, though the thought of what you’re about to do makes your stomach churn.

You lower yourself into the water, already feeling the tension settle in as Scaramouche follows suit. It’s quiet—too quiet—until he mutters, “So, how are we doing this?”

You sink lower into the water, heat creeping up your neck. "I guess… I sit on your lap, and we angle ourselves so it looks like we're kissing."

He gives you a look, something unreadable flashing in his eyes, before nodding. “Fine.”

“Well, get on with it!” Yae’s voice yells from god knows where.

Reluctantly, you move closer an inch. And then another. And then one more.

“For fucks sake, we’ll be here all day,” Scara huffs, reaching out to slide a hand around your waist and yanking you closer. You yelp at the suddenness as you slide onto his lap. His hands find your waist, holding you steady as your heart pounds in your ears. This position is way more intimate than you’d expected. There was nowhere to look but at him with his chest solid against yours. The steam rising from the water makes the air feel thick.

You tilt your head back, just enough so that it looks like you’re about to kiss, hoping that the camera will get the right angle without you two having to go through with it.

“This is good but while we’re here, why don’t you both just kiss,” Lisa yells from the intercom, "Now that will shut down the rumors.”

Your entire body stiffens at Lisa's suggestion, the weight of her words settling in like stones in your stomach. You shift slightly on Scaramouche’s lap, trying to ignore the situation at hand.

“You’ve got to stop shifting like that,” Scara says under his breath, holding your hips still with his hands. He lets out an annoyed sigh, his grip on your waist tightening just slightly. “Let’s just get it over with,” he mutters, leaning in a little closer, his expression unreadable but tense.

You open your mouth to speak, but the words catch in your throat. Instead, you manage to stammer, “I’ve… never kissed anyone before.”

There’s a beat of silence. You brace yourself, expecting him to make fun of you, to twist this into some new way to tease you relentlessly. Maybe he’ll laugh about how he knew you were a virgin like he usually does or call you pathetic for having no experience.

But that doesn’t happen.

Scaramouche just stares at you, his eyes flickering with something—maybe surprise, maybe something else entirely—but then he simply sighs, and his expression softens just a fraction. If you hadn’t spent so much time glaring at him all your career you wouldn’t have even noticed.

“Fine,” he says, his voice calmer than you expected. “I’ll guide it. Just follow my lead.”

Before you can process what’s happening, he takes one of your hands and places it on his shoulder, the other by his nape. The heat from his skin is almost unbearable in contrast to the cool air, and you can feel the slight tension in his muscles under your fingers.

You swallow hard, unsure of how to respond, the weight of the moment pressing down on you. But Scaramouche’s eyes are steady on yours, his lips close enough that you can feel his breath on your skin.

“Relax,” he murmurs, as if that’s an easy thing to do. His hand on your waist moves up slightly, settling just beneath your ribs, grounding you as he tilts his head a fraction closer. “It’s not that hard, dumbass”

Your body feels like it’s caught in two different worlds—one of panic and another of dizzying anticipation. You’ve never been this close to anyone, let alone someone you’ve spent so much time despising. But there’s no mockery in his gaze now, no smug grin. Just a quiet, unspoken agreement between the two of you to get this over with.

The last thing you see before shutting your eyes are Scara’s lips, which fall gently open the moment he leans in to kiss yours.

Scaramouche closes the distance, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, hesitant way. It’s not like you imagined a kiss would feel. It’s… gentle, almost patient, like he’s allowing you the time to catch up. His hand shifts, guiding you closer as the kiss deepens, but not by much—just enough to make the world outside of this moment blur.

Your body, tense from anticipation, crumbles into abandon. The beat of your heart is too loud in your chest, emotions lodged in your throat, and soft dark hair curling through the spaces between your fingers.

You find yourself following his lead without thinking, your fingers tightening slightly against the back of his neck as you lean into the kiss. There’s no rush, no urgency. It’s almost like he’s teaching you without words, each movement purposeful but slow, as if he’s trying not to overwhelm you. It’s a contrast to his usual demeanor, where he seemed like he was always one step ahead. He seemed so out of reach.

But now here he was, barely an inch away from you and letting you catch up.

When he finally pulls back, it’s only by a few inches, and his gaze lingers on your lips before flicking back up to your eyes.

“There,” he says, his voice quieter now. “Wasn’t so bad, was it?”

You’re too stunned to respond right away, the world around you coming back into focus in slow motion. The water, the cold air, the fact that this was all supposed to be for show. But for a moment, you’d forgotten that.

“No,” you finally manage, your voice barely above a whisper. “I guess not.”

“Your lips were chapped,” Scaramouche adds with a smirk, because of course he does. The teasing lilt in his voice grates on you, breaking the moment that had felt so strangely…intimate.

Without hesitation, you flick his forehead, the satisfying thunk earning a small grunt from him. Before he can retaliate, you quickly slide off his lap, distancing yourself in the water. The warmth of the hot tub is nothing compared to the heat still lingering on your face.

“That was GREAT,” Yae’s voice screeches through the intercom, cutting through the awkwardness like a knife. “THAT TWITTER USER CAN EAT MY ASS!”

You can practically see her smug grin, and it makes you groan internally. Great. Now your first kiss is going to be broadcast as a PR stunt to shut down rumors. You shift uncomfortably, trying to push down the strange mix of emotions swirling in your chest—annoyance, disbelief, and something you can’t quite place. Your lips still tingle from the kiss that wasn’t even supposed to happen.

Yae gives the signal that they’ve got the footage they need so you get ready to leave. As you move to climb out of the tub, Scaramouche stays behind, seemingly unfazed. You’re doing your best to ignore him, but his voice cuts through the steam and your scattered thoughts.

“It doesn’t have to count.”

You pause, turning your head slightly. “What?”

“The kiss,” he says, his tone almost casual, like this whole conversation is no big deal. “If first kisses are something stupid you care about… this one doesn’t have to count.”

You blink at him, trying to process his words. “What are you talking about?”

Scaramouche’s gaze flickers over to you, his face unreadable but his voice softening just a bit. “Your real first kiss can be with someone you actually care about. Doesn’t have to be this.” He gestures vaguely between you two, as if the kiss you just shared is nothing more than a contractual obligation—just part of the game. Which it was. But at the end of the day it was still your first kiss.

You stare at him, trying to make sense of the words he just said, of the way his tone has softened like he’s actually trying to spare you something for once.

“It was still my first,” you mutter, more to yourself than to him.

Scaramouche's eyes flicker, a shadow of something crossing his face before his expression hardens again. He leans his head back against the edge of the tub, arms crossing over his chest. “Look,” he starts, his voice dropping to that low, lazy tone he uses when he’s about to say something he knows is going to piss you off. “I know I’m an asshole most of the time—”

“Most of the time?” you cut in, eyebrow raised.

He glares at you, but there’s no real heat in it. “Shut up and let me finish, will you?”

You bite back the retort bubbling in your throat, nodding slightly for him to continue.

“I’m an asshole, yeah,” he says again, a little slower this time. “But I’m not that much of an asshole. If… if this is something that matters to you, then don’t let it. You can still have your real first kiss with someone who—” He hesitates, eyes shifting to the side for a second, and you could swear you see the faintest hint of uncertainty in his gaze before he forces it away. “—someone who means something to you.”

The words hang in the air between you, thick and heavy with something unspoken. You can’t tell if he’s saying it because he genuinely believes it or if he’s just trying to make this whole mess easier for you. Either way, it’s not like him to care, and that fact alone makes your chest tighten with confusion. Maybe he just pitied you.

“Anyway, don’t get all emotional about it,” he adds, his voice back to its usual flippant tone. “I’m not gonna hold your hand through it.”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” you snap back, but there’s no bite to your words. Instead, you’re left with the lingering thought of what he just said, the weight of his strange attempt at comfort settling in your chest.

Before you can say anything else, Scaramouche pushes himself up from the water, his hands gripping the edge of the tub as he turns his back to you. “Let’s just get out of here before Yae comes up with another stupid idea.”

This was what you’d expected. Scaramouche being uncomfortable with you both being so close and you feeling sick at the thought. There was a kind of comfort in predictability, and you and Scara’s relationship was so goddamn predictable.

[00:00:00] KISS INTERVIEW ONE, TAKE ONE

YAE: So, tell us all about that little kiss that got leaked!

SCARAMOUCHE: It was alright. YAE: [GESTURES FOR HIM TO KEEP GOING]

SCARAMOUCHE: It was great and…[SQUINTS AT SIGN YAE IS HOLDING] life changing, their lips were soft as flower petals and…Yae this is stupid, I’m not reading this. Who wrote this? It’s terrible.

YAE: I wrote it! It’s romantic!

SCARAMOUCHE: It’s gross. Who the hell describes a kiss like this?

JEAN, SIGHING: Why don’t you use your own words to describe it? SCARAMOUCHE: Fake.

JEAN: Cut!

[00:17:38] KISS INTERVIEW ONE, TAKE TWO

YAE: Let’s try this again. Can you describe the kiss in your own words?

SCARAMOUCHE: It wasn’t planned, okay? It just…I don’t know.

YAE: That’s all you’re giving us? C’mon, this is your big moment. Tell the fans something juicy!

SCARAMOUCHE: [EXHALES SHARPLY, LOOKS AWAY] I don’t know… I guess I… I feel bad about it.

YAE: Bad? Why would you feel bad? Was the kiss not good?

SCARAMOUCHE: [RUNS A HAND THROUGH HIS HAIR, HESITATES] I’m not the kind of guy people would want their first kiss with. And, yeah… it was their first. I know it was supposed to be this whole act, but I… I shouldn’t have taken that from them, not like that.

YAE: [RAISES AN EYEBROW] So, you actually care?

SCARAMOUCHE: [AVERTS EYES] Care? I… [PAUSES] No. Maybe. It just wasn’t fair to them, that’s all.

LISA: When you say “not like that” do you mean you wished you’d kissed them in a different setting?

SCARAMOUCHE: [GLARES AT LISA] I’m not answering something stupid as that.

YAE: Oh, come on! This is what everyone wants to know. Don’t you think the fans deserve a little honesty?

SCARAMOUCHE: [CROSSES HIS ARMS] I’ve given you plenty. I already told you, it wasn’t fair to them. Isn’t that enough?

LISA: [SMILING] Just admit it—you’re dodging because you actually feel something.

SCARAMOUCHE: [LEANS BACK, SIGHING] Look, if you’re expecting some big confession, you’re wasting your time. It was a job. That’s it.

YAE: [SHARING A SMIRK WITH LISA] Right, because I also kiss my coworkers passionately all in the name of “just doing my job.”

[00:00:00] KISS INTERVIEW TWO, TAKE ONE

YAE: Alright, Y/N, let’s dive in!

Y/N: [FROWNS AT CARD] Why does the thingy say kiss this time?

YAE: Because we all want to know what went down in the hot tub with Scara!

Y/N: [SQUINTS AT YAE'S SIGN] I can’t even read the script you’re holding. My eyesight’s terrible. Does that seriously say, “His lips felt like heaven?”

YAE: [GRINNING] Yes! It’s good, right? Very romantic!

Y/N: [RAISES AN EYEBROW] Romantic? It sounds like something out of a cheap romance novel.

YAE: [GIGGLING] Well, Scara said my writing was terrible too. You two are totally synced, it seems.

JEAN: [SIGHS AND PLACES HER HEAD IN HER HANDS] We might be here a while…

YAE: Cut! Alright, let’s reset. [DEEP BREATH] Take two.

[00:05:43] KISS INTERVIEW TWO, TAKE TWO

YAE: [ROLLING HER EYES] Okay, just… talk about how hot his body was or something. Give the fans what they want!

Y/N: [STRAIGHT-FACED] I’d rather not.

LISA: [GIGGLES] Then maybe just tell us what it was like losing your first kiss to him.

JEAN: Lisa! That’s kind of insensitive…

Y/N: [SHRUGS] It’s fine. Surprisingly, I’m not that mad about it. I’ve known Scara for years, so… at least it wasn’t with some stranger.

YAE: [GIGGLING, LEANING IN] So… was it any good?

Y/N: [ROLLS EYES] I mean, I don’t exactly have anything to compare it to.

YAE: [TEASING] So you’re saying he set the bar?

Y/N: [CROSSES ARMS, SHRUGS] I’m saying I survived. Let’s leave it at that.

JEAN: [UNDER HER BREATH] Why do I feel like we’re making this worse?

LISA: [CHUCKLING] Because we probably are.

[00:00:00] BEACH INTERVIEW ONE, TAKE ONE

YAE: So, Childe, tell us—how are you enjoying the beach so far? Getting some time to unwind?

CHILDE: [SMILING] Yeah, it’s been nice. But it’s a little too quiet without Scara and Y/N bickering in the background. You’d think I’d enjoy the peace, but… kinda miss the chaos, you know?

YAE: [CHUCKLES] Oh? Seems like you got used to it. How’s everyone managing without Scara?

CHILDE: Well, he was the best cook, surprisingly. So now everyone’s struggling. Dinner last night was... [SHUDDERS] Let’s just say nobody knew how to work the stove.

YAE: [LAUGHS] Sounds rough. So, I have to ask—any romance brewing in the group?

CHILDE: [GRINS, LEANS IN] Between you and me, I keep seeing Xiao and Kazuha sneaking off for these little “walks” along the shore. But hey, maybe they’re just out there for a smoke or something.

JEAN: [OFF-CAMERA, SIGHS] Childe, don’t bring up smoking!

CHILDE: Right, right! I mean, they’re, uh… stargazing. Totally innocent. Just two guys appreciating the stars.

YAE: Cut!

stuck with you!

masterlist — prev | next

lmk if the written portion below pic helped, if i’m able to fit in it i’ll include it from now on

a few tags don’t work anymore so if u wanna be in the taglist lmk in the comments and ill keep it in mind

pls comment or send me an ask if u enjoyed i need motivation 🙂‍↕️

comment on the MASTERLIST if i can use ur user as a fan in the au!

synopsis — after the disaster that was the live award show, where you and scaramouche got into an argument on stage after both of your groups got a tie for top artists, your guys' PR teams have been in shambles trying to scrape up your mess. that's when the idea to send you both off with some other idols to a remote location for a survival dating show to mend your public image comes up. before you know it your bags are packed and you’re on a plane to a remote island. the only obligation is you need to end up with scaramouche at the end of the show, whether you end up liking him or not doesn’t matter to your managers as long as the show’s ratings stay high. whatever you do in between to get there is up to you!

notes — i rlly do wanna update more but college is kicking my ass so pls be patient with me :’) my semester ends in a few weeks and then next spring my classes won’t end at 7pm every night so i should have more free time 🙂‍↕️

taglist — @na1lea @cindywasneverhere @lunavixia @aestherin @mlaakai @camvrin @retiredmommylover @iheartpieck @jangyung @cartierfiles @loveariel @silly-ez @mochipls @pomeiu @chuuismylife @flowerypesky @creammpuff @justanothertiredreader @boxdisappeared @kissingkzuha @webbywill @kazusboyfriend @s3xpistolss @pjsucks @bunns-wonderland @lordbugs @localgirlywithnolife @kosumos @danfelions @featuredtofu @pinxeajin @herebyaccident0 @haeunoo @scaradooche @pglt19 @chemiru @childesbabygirl @simonisferal @shutingstar @ttalgi @esuz @tokkishouse @kitsuvil @scarasmood @ihearttori @nomurahayami @starringyau @androxphobic @reivelmin @animeobsessed56 @femaholicc

#stuck with you smau #scaramouche x reader smau #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x yn #scaramouche x you #kunikuzushi smau #kunikuzushi x reader #kunikuzushi x you #kunikuzushi #scaramouche x gender neutral reader #scaramouche x male reader

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askdacast · 4 months ago

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hey block people fans, so I really love the Tanuki Joel/Smallishbeans fanart goin around as inspired by @mellozheist's design and it made me think, what youkai (Japanese folklore monsters) would we portray the other Hermitcraft/Life Series members as? Some of the more obvious and fun ideas I thought of:

Scar - Kitsune, easy. Charismatic, cunning wiles, enterprising, known for tricking people, tendency to be wet cat on the rare instance you find his weakness. Also kitsune are rivals to tanuki (although Scar and Joel aren't really rivals so much as occasional partners in crime). You could alternatively choose the bakeneko because it's also a wiley shapeshifter and cat connection (RIP Jellie).

Grian - Tengu, also easy choice. Not just for the obvious pesky bird connection. Tengu are also trickster beings. They are sometimes evil (abducting humans) but sometimes benign and teach humans secret arts. They are excellent fighters and leaders, but just like a regular crow, they can just as easily goof off for no reason at all. Dangerously capable but also goofy bird fits Grian to a T.

Mumbo - Kappa, maybe? He's not associated with water much iirc but the kappa from not iRL folklore but a certain series are associated with engineering, and I needed an appropriate one for the Redstoners lol

Etho - Kamaitachi. Weasel with sharp blades. Like a tanuki (Joel), but consistently sneaky, while also being just a little guy. Can probably team up with Skizzle and Tango for the traditional trio of sneaky people with sharp blades. EDIT: I know there's fanart of him as a kitsune to match Tanuki Joel, and I'm by no means contesting that, this is just a fun alternative.

Cleo - Yamauba/Yamanba. I'M NOT CALLING CLEO AN OLD HAG, LET ME EXPLAIN. DANGEROUSLY FIERCE AND INTELLIGENT WITCH WHO LIVES IN THE MOUNTAINS AND IS JUST AS PROTECTIVE OF HER (potentially foster) CHILDREN AS MUCH AS SHE IS A TERROR TO THOSE WHO CROSS HER.

Bdubs/Skizzleman - Oni. They beeg. They angery. They not necessarily dumb but they stronk and one of them has lived in the mountains at least once. I can even see Bdubs being like a Sakata Kintoki spoof (the "son" of a yamanba a.k.a Cleo)

Jimmy - Yosuzume. Birds of bad luck. Canary curse. Need I explain more?

feel free to give alternative suggestions or ideas for the others, or ask me what youkai I think might fit certain traits, I may not know much about the block people but I know a little too much about Japanese folklore so this is just a fun exercise for me

#mcyt #hermitcraft #life series #traffic smp #trafficblr #life series smp #japanese folklore #japanese mythology #youkai #memes #all this because of tanuki joel #smallishbeans

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thebestsetter · 28 days ago

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Thinking about (lovesick) Hiori Yo keeping a diary.

His parents have always been emotionally unavaible. For them, Hiori was nothing more nothing less than an experiment, the one destined to be what they've always wanted to be and yet never managed to acomplish: someone who wears the title of being "the best in the world".

He also didn't have much (if any) friends. All his time was dedicated to football practice, so the only people he talked to (aside from his parents) were his teammates. And they were nice, sure, but they were not his friends. They were more like acquaintances. The only one he could really call a friend was one of his teammates, Karasu Tabito, and even so he still didn't feel comfortable enough talking to him about the complex thoughts he had.

Because of that, he's never had anyone to talk with. No one to confide about his feelings and emotions. No one to talk about how he wanted to leave his home house (that place didn't feel like a home). How his parents fucked up his sanity. How he didn't really like football that much.

He couldn't keep all these things inside his head anymore. He needed to pour these feelings out. That's why he decided to start a diary.

Grabbing an old notebook and one of those common blue pens, he started writing. The diary was his most treasured possession. It stayed locked inside his bedside table, being away from all of the prying eyes.

Writing felt good. He wrote about his strained relationship with his parents. About soccer practices. About gaming tips. About pretty much everything.

His thoughts about many different themes were written there. That's why his journal didn't really have a specific theme.

Well, at least in the beggining it didn't have.

Because ever since a month or so, all the pages on his diary began to revolve around a girl. You.

He met you during a rather boring math class. The teacher was rambling on and on about algebrics or whatever, and time seemed to freeze because of how utterly shitty the endless class seemed.

"His explanation sucks, doesn't it?"

He heard a female voice coming from beside him. When he turned to the direction of the sound, he saw the prettiest girl he had ever met.

Her hair framed her face perfectly, it's color matching her eyes in the most beautiful way Yo had ever seen. The smile she had on her face seemed to shine, and Hiori found himself smiling back, too.

"Yeah" he sighed, then looked back at the teacher

"I just wish the old hag would shut up"

"I wish he would just shut up"

They spoke at the same time.

Looking at eachother, they both began to laugh. Hard. Clutching your stomach and tearing up kind of laugh. Snorting like a pig laugh. Wheezing. Hitting the table with your fist to try and stop with the loud laughing, but being phisically incapable of stopping.

"Hiori Yo and (Name) (Lastname). Do you want to share with the class what made you laugh so hard? I'm sure they want to laugh to."

"N-No, mister. We're sorry. We-We'll stop" you answered, still trying to stiffle your laugh

"Do not interrupt my class again, or else I'll send you both to the principal's office"

"Okay sir." Hiori answered, not believing a word the teacher said but still a little scared to have his parents find out he went to the principal's office

"Hiori Yo, huh?" You said "It suits you"

"Thank you, miss (Name) (Lastname)." Hiori smirked "Your name is very pretty. It also suits you"

"Oh, so you think I'm pretty?" You smirked, a mischevious and playful glint on your eyes.

"N-no!" Hiori blushed hard, averting your gaze. His accent got stronger like it always did when he became nervous, and he was quick to correct himself "I-I mean, yes! You're very pretty! B-but I didn't mean to say t-that. Not that you're not pretty! Is just that..."

He was interrupted by the sound of your laugh mixed with the bell signalizing the end of the school day. It's obnoxious sound was such a contrast from your sweet, honey-like melodic laugh.

"Don't worry, I was just teasing you!" You smiled at him, grabbing your backpack and getting up "Well, see you on the next advanced math period, mister Hiori Yo"

You then quickly left, leaving behind a red and speechless Hiori.

He has been obsessed in love with you ever since. He wanted to be with you all of the time, no exceptions. You were just so nice! It seemed like his problems disappeared when you were near. Life seemed brighter, and even his parents noticed the change in his behavior. He was more carefree, happier, lighter.

And never once did he forget to write in his diary. In fact, he wrote about you so much he decided to rip the pages about his parents and other things and make the journal solely based on you.

He wrote about the dates he wanted to go to with you. Wrote about how he wanted to hold hands with you, kiss you till you're both breathless, stargaze with you, game with you. Do basically everything with you.

He detailed how he wanted to confess to you: you would both be in a park, having a picnic, when he would suddenly pull a bouquet from his backpack and put his feelings on the table, making it clear he viewed you as more than a friend. And then you'd laugh and say you like him too, making fun of his strong accent and how much effect you had over him.

Not that he'd mind. As long as your attention was on him, you could humilliate him all you want. He was pathetic.

He even wrote about your wedding, the petunias he wanted to give you and how Hiori (Name) had such a nice ring to it.

He wrote everything in his diary. And that was his fatal flaw.

Because he also wrote about how he wanted to spend his practice time with you. How he wanted to give up on soccer and move in with you to a house on the countryside, just you and him. How he sometimes skipped practices just to go out with you.

"Mom? Dad?"

He would never have thought that, one day, he would forget to lock the diary up. And who would've guessed it would fall in the hands of his parents, who have no idea of privacy.

"Yo, we need to talk about this"

When Hiori saw the notebook in his dad's hand, he swallowed dry. He felt like crying just by imagining what they wanted to discuss about.

Maybe they didn't read it. Yeah, maybe they still respected their son, at least a little bit.

"W-what? How did you..."

"It was on your bed." His mom answered, a stern expression on her face "me and your father came to an agreement after reading it, and..."

"You read it?!" Hiori was furious and sad at the same time. Not surprised, no. He knew they would've done this. "You can't do this! My personal thoughts are in there! It's my diary! You're invading my privacy!"

"Bullshit. Teenagers do not have nor need privacy" his father cut him off "Whatever. What matters is that we read about that (Name) girl. And we've decided..."

No. He can say anything but what he thinks they're bout to say. He can't handle that.

"We don't want you around that girl anymore. She's getting in the way of your football practices. That's why...

We're moving you to a different school."

No...

No.

NO!

"No she's not!" Hiori screamed, pleaded. He wished that for once his parents would listen to him, think about his feelings at least one time. "I love her! I swear I'll do double the practice! Just, please. Please don't do this" his voice was wavering. He was weak. "Please don't keep her away from me. Please."

"We do this cause we know what's best for you. We're your parents. We know you better than yourself." His mom tried to reason.

"No you don't!" Hiori screamed "She's the best thing that has ever happened to me! You can't do this to me! You can't decide these things in my behalf!"

"We're your parents. We can and we did. End of discussion." His dad gritted out, not an ounce of empathy in his face. "And we also decided you're not keeping a diary anymore. We don't want you hiding things from us."

With a swift move, he threw the notebook inside the fireplace.

"NO!" Hiori screamed, running to collect the ashes and try to save the diary, but it was already too late.

In his knees in front of the fire, Hiori cried. The flames were dancing around as if mocking his sadness, laughing at his disgrace.

He stayed there for so long he lost track of time. His parents were no longer in the room, deciding to finally give their son space. But he didn't want space.

He wanted you.

He stayed motionless until the last flame was unstinguished. And when it finally was, so was his hope for a better future. A future without his parents playing with the strings of his life all the time, treating him like a puppet. A future with no pain.

A future with you.

And so, a single page that survived flew and fell in front of him.

He picked it up.

Dear diary,

I think I can make up with my parents. I didn't told her about the whole situation since I don't want to burden her, but from what she heard, (Name) said we just need to talk. And maybe she's right. Maybe they'll like her just as much as I do, and we can be a big happy family. She makes me feel like everything is possible. I'm sure I love her, and I want to spend all my time by her side...

He couldn't read it anymore.

With a scream, Hiori tore the page apart.

~A/N: Sorry anon, idk how to write angst ☹️

Masterlist

#blue lock x reader #blue lock #yandere blue lock #hiori yo.#hiori x reader #bllk hiori #hiori yo #blue lock hiori #hiori yo x reader #bllk angst #blue lock angst #reader angst #bllk manga #bllk x reader #bllk x you

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holylulusworld · 2 months ago

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In time

Summary: He wants you to take another day off.

Pairing: Mafia!Steve Rogers x Librarian!Reader

Warnings: short reader, mafia au, size kink (Steve), fluff, implied/hinted future smut (oral fem rec)

Catch up here: Overdue

“Young lady, you won’t leave this room,” his stern voice booms through the room. You bet everyone in the house can hear him. “I’m warning you. Not a step closer to the door or I’ll have to punish you.”

You huff. “We have talked about this,” you stand your ground. “You cannot stop me from leaving. I must go to work.”

“No, you won’t!” He steps closer, his shadow looming over your smaller frame. He looks down at you, a smirk on his kissable lips. “It’s Friday, and you’ll take the day off.”

“They will fire me if I take another day off,” you sigh and shake your head. “You must accept that I’m an independent woman making her own money.”

He sighs too and cups your face. Steve dips his head to press a kiss to your temple.

“I know, and I love you for being a stubborn and cute librarian, doll. It’s just that I have a surprise for you, and I cannot wait until you come home from work.”

“Steve.” You’re close to giving in once again. “I can’t, you know that. My boss will fire me, I swear. Last time you made me close the library earlier, she threw a tantrum.”

“That old hag better shut her mouth,” Steve hisses. He doesn’t like the way your boss talks to you sometimes. “Let me talk to her. I bet I can convince her to let you take as many days off as you want to.”

“Steve, threatening to cut her tongue out is not the way to convince her,” you sass, knowing about Steve’s antipathy towards your boss. “Let me go to work, and I promise to be home on time.”

“Hmmm…” Steve thinks about your offer. He steps back, and you believe he’ll let you go. You are about to walk toward the walk-in wardrobe when he grabs you by the waist and easily lifts you. He throws you, once again, over his shoulder to carry you inside the bedroom.

“Steve, Stevie,” you giggle and laugh. “Steve, that’s not funny. You must let me down. Please, I can’t miss another day at work.”

“No can do, doll,” he chuckles darkly. “I have plans for today. Plans involving you and your cute ass. I cannot let you walk out of this house today.”

“Stevie!” You slap his ass. “I’m dead serious! Let me down. I mean it. Steve!”

“It’s so cute when you believe you are in charge.” He unceremoniously drops you onto the bed, laughing when you bounce off the mattress. “How about we play a game? If you win, I’ll let you go to work. If I win, you will stay at home.”

You kneel on the bed, watching Steve circle you like prey. “No cheating?”

“No cheating, doll.” He assures you. “Is that a yes?”

“Yes. Go ahead.” You can’t wait to hear what Steve came up with this time. “What kind of game are we going to play?”

He smirks, like the devil himself. Steve darts his tongue out to wet his lips.

“I thought of hiding my face between those legs. And if you cum before I tell you so, you’ll lose. If you’re good, and wait, you'll win.”

You smirk as you stare at his thick beard. Because, either way, you’ll win. “Deal, Mr. Rogers.”

Tags in reblog.

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #mafia au #librarian reader #female reader #mobster!steve rogers

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cheemscakecat · 11 months ago

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Bucket Scene Analysis pt. 2

Now that I’ve talked about the rest of RED, I want to look at how the Bucket Scene affected Spy; because doing everyone’s wish meant more than his teammates realize.

First of all, he came up with the idea of writing down everyone’s last wish and then working as a team to fulfill them. Spy is usually cynical and tries not to show how much he cares about the rest of RED. Scout and Pauling are the exceptions because one is his son, and one is young, naive and hopelessly devoted to that old hag Helen. Pauling doesn’t usually get positive reenforcement for working so hard, but in the comics we get to see Spy complimenting her.

[WOW they made him pale] Anyways, gathering the last wishes is a sign that when it comes down to it, Spy cares about the rest of RED team, and he wants them to die feeling fulfilled instead of downtrodden.

It’s also important to remember that Scout knows they’re all going to die. Spy’s going out of his way to make the most of these last hours, and he’s assuming that Scout will do the same since dying changes things. And, as stated in Part one, Scout was equally upset when Medic announced that they had three days. That’s why Spy trusted his son to collect everyone’s last wish. Here’s what Spy said before his day was ruined with the prank cards:

”This is a bucket.[..] It contains the dying wish of every man here. […]Gentlemen, synchronize your death watches. We have seventy hours to live. For most men no time at all. We are not most men. We are mercenaries. We have the resources. The will. To make these hours count! The clock is ticking gentlemen. Let’s begin.”

This is in stark contrast to how BLU Spy talked to his teammates in Meet the Spy, especially Scout. RED is complimenting his team and trying to uplift them before they die, not talking down to them. Which leads me to believe that he’s being sincere, not trying to make himself look good before he dies. Unfortunately, Scout decided to prank him instead of helping with this, and we see his reaction in real time.

First card- Spy is disappointed that Scout drew a joke card instead of writing his last wish.

”I have something radiating off of me.”

“Yeah, those are stink lines. That’s why the car hit him. Cause he smells!” [Heavy smiles at Scout.]

Spy is visibly upset but decides to just read the next card, hoping it’s a real one even if Scout’s is not. But it’s another more offensive insult.

Third card is yet another insult, and he’s realized that there’s probably only one useful card in the bucket. Presumably it’ll say where the real wishes are, or be a gotcha for Scout to hand him the real cards. Spy is trying to just get through them and not react to the jokes so he can get back to the task at hand. But you can tell that it’s taking the wind out of his sails.

Four cards, there’s only one left after this. Three have been sexual, which is extremely awkward coming from his son whether he realizes or not. At least two teammates at the table know this.

Card five is not in fact real, and it’s the last straw because that means Scout didn’t bother to get the real dying wishes from anybody. So Spy outright asks the others as confirmation that they were never asked. If that’s the case then they’ve wasted time and they’re back at square one. But maybe somebody will side with him because they had their time wasted.

But they don’t, do they? They smile at Scout, which means nobody is going to chastise him for being so immature. Spy doesn’t even get a verbal reply or someone shaking their head “no”. This is how he realizes that nobody else cared about this in the first place, and he’s on his own. Even the two people that know his relation to Scout don’t come to his defense.

And now he’s demoralized. His last three days on earth, he wanted to help his team fulfill their dying wishes and die with some peace. But they didn’t reciprocate. And what’s worse, they didn’t just tell him no from the start; they gathered around and let him think they might care, then reacted with indifference. And approval of his son’s cruel prank.

Imagine being in the middle of nowhere with your coworkers, knowing you’re all going to die. So you try to do one last good deed for all of them, because you care for them even if you’re bad at showing it. But they don’t respond in kind, they respond with apathy. Now you know that when all the cards are down and you’re all running out of time, they don’t care for you like you thought.

And the people you trusted with a secret, that you have an estranged son? In hearty agreement with him mocking you, even though you have three days left to live.

“See you all in hell!”

He was left standing alone. No wonder he holed up in the smoking room denying visitors. They let him down.

#character analysis #tf2 #dadspy

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mumms-the-word · 6 months ago

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A Final Death

Pairing: Gale x gn!Tav Summary: Gale has ascended and has returned to his chronically ill lover in order to ascend them, only to realize that they have died while he was exploring godhood. He departs for the Fugue Plane to find their soul and offer them divinity once more. ao3 link A/N: This is inspired by an angst ask I got in my inbox (hi anon!!) but it got so long that I decided to make it its own post. CW: death

Wait for me. Give me time. Soon, I will return with the means to ascend you, and you will never have to fear dying again.

Those were the last words he had said to Tav before leaving them. The sight of them on the docks watching him bow and back away was burned into his mind, even long after ascension. They were stunning in the light of the rising sun. As beautiful as they had ever been, and more.

And oh so fragile. Brittle. Broken. The condition they had maintained so carefully before being taken by the nautiloid had proven taxing, dangerous, even deadly on the road to Baldur’s Gate. True resurrection should have cured it, but it never did, no matter how many times they sought Withers’ help, resurrecting their broken, dead body with true resurrection spells.

A curse, Tav later told him. The nasty result of a hag deal gone bad. Since then, every injury healed wrong.

The evidence of the curse was staggering. Broken bones that never fused together just right. Bruises that never seemed to fade. Cuts that always seemed only half-healed. A persistent cough that would go away only to be replaced by other pains, other illnesses. A perpetual state of pain, never ending, ever changing, managed only by a careful schedule of potions and healing spells and rest. Some days were worse than others. Some days they felt only the dim pains of a single bruise. But never, not even once, had they admitted to a single pain-free day.

But there was no promise of rest and healing on the road and no end to the fighting. Yet still, they pressed on. Still they fought. Still they endured. Until finally the Netherbrain crashed, defeated, into the Chionthar, and Gale had the means to end their suffering at last within reach. For the first time in months, they could rest.

He hoped the last few months had done them good. That they had found ways to heal and secured the rare, nearly-pain-free day as they waited for him. He had dedicated all of his time in the pursuit of ascension, and then after that, in testing the limits of his godhood. He had to know what he could do, what he was capable of, before he returned. He only had one chance to ascend them. He wanted it to be perfect.

As he materialized outside the Elfsong Tavern room, the one they sometimes shared when he and they longed for a night with just the two of them away from the others, the one his beloved had promised to be in while they waited for him, he wondered what kind of god they would become. Perhaps a god of healing, focusing their efforts on healing spells and potion crafting. Or perhaps they would hate that idea and surprise him. The god of knitting, they might suggest, the most mundane thing possible, or the god of puns, making use of that humor they used nearly every day to cope with the pain. He smiled to himself, remembering their many jokes, as he waved a hand for the door to open on its own.

He stepped inside, dimming his celestial light, only to find the room was quite dark without it. His smile faded as he gazed about the room.

Empty.

No, not empty, he realized, as a figure unfolded themselves from a chair in the far corner. The figure approached, slow and silent, the whisper of their ragged robes the only sound in the room.

“Jergal,” Gale said.

“Well met, young god,” Jergal said. His expression was that same old blank expression, his mouth just shy of a faint smile, and his eyes glimmered in the dark just as they had months ago, back when Gale had been mortal. “Thou come seeking that which is no longer here.”

“I can see that.” He could sense it, too. Though other souls slept, ate, and drank in other rooms beyond this, the only two entities present in that room were himself and the Final Scribe. “Where are they?”

“Gone.”

Gale tried to ignore the flicker of irritation kindling within him. “Yes. I’ve noticed. Gone where?”

“They are where they must be…until they goest where they must go.”

The irritation only grew. Jergal had always been vague, but that was when Gale had been mortal. Now, they ought to speak as gods do, one deity to another. The Final Scribe need not hide divine secrets from the God of Ambition, now that they were equals.

“Fine, if you won’t tell me,” Gale said, “then I shall simply have to find them myself.”

“Thou wilt search these planes for some time, I fear. They are not here. They are…beyond.”

“What do you…”

All at once the meaning came to him. Gone. Beyond.

Dead.

“That…cannot be,” Gale said, refusing to believe it. But Jergal merely stared, silent. Waiting. Waiting for him to accept it.

Again he refused. He cast his senses wide, stretching out his mental presence far beyond the reaches of the Elfsong Tavern, over the whole of the city, and even further beyond, briefly touching hundreds of souls at a time, seeking, searching, hoping to brush against the soul that had once called to his own. The soul that had been his match. He would know it as soon as he found it, so familiar was it to him, though this was the first time he sought it out as a god.

But there was nothing. Though he felt the first embers of pride, the fanned flames of hungry ambition among dozens of souls, he couldn’t feel the one singular soul that he desired.

They were gone. And he knew, even if he searched the entire surface of Toril, that he wouldn’t find them. Not on this plane.

Tav was dead.

He struggled to find his voice “When?”

Jergal’s gaze softened briefly. “Nigh on forty days past.”

“That long?” he asked. “It can’t be, I was only gone for…” But even as he said it, he knew his estimation would be wrong. Jergal looked sympathetic.

“Time runneth differently when one is immortal,” he said. “As thou well know.”

Again Gale struggled to comprehend the news. Not because he misunderstood—he could see the truth as clear as crystal. Tav was dead, their soul having departed from the mortal plane days ago, and he had missed it.

That was the part he couldn’t fully grasp. How had he missed the day, the very moment his own beloved had faded out of this life? Their brilliant life, bright as a star in the sky, snuffed so quickly—again.

He should have felt it. It should have been, to him, the same sort of feeling as losing the light of a single candle’s flame in a vast darkness. Or perhaps a feeling like a chill, a dread, a pit in his stomach. He was divine. He could sense souls in a way he never could as a mortal. He should have felt Tav’s passing.

But he hadn’t. He couldn’t even recall what had been the focus of his attention forty days ago. A single day was like a breath to him. There and gone in a flash. One didn’t count every breath they took in an hour, much less in a day or a week. Had so much—so little time passed without him noticing?

He set aside those concerns for now. “I see,” he said quietly. “That is unfortunate. But it is time to bring them back now, if you would. That is why you’re here, is it not? To resurrect them?”

“No.”

Gale frowned. “No? I don’t understand.”

Jergal was quiet a moment. By the time Gale was certain he would simply refuse to elaborate, he closed his eyes briefly and then reopened them.

“I came to them in their final hour,” he said. “To offer them my services. They greeted me as a friend.”

He paused. Then he lifted a hand to his head and touched his temple. As he drew his hand away, a small orb of light followed after his fingers. A memory, Gale realized, as Jergal sent it floating toward him. Gale cradled it in his hands, letting it sink into his silvered skin, and immediately his vision was flooded with the memory.

He saw Jergal approach the bed in the room, sitting down in a chair at the bedside. For a moment, Gale almost didn’t recognize the figure on the mattress, lying beneath the folded sheets, but as he drew closer there was no denying who it was.

Tav.

He had never seen them look so frail. The months since their victory had wasted them away until they were left looking more dead than alive. Their skin was as thin as paper, their usual tones now cast over with a gray pallor. Dozens of bruises bloomed on their skin, all in varying stages of healing or freshness, and their lips were colorless, their hair thin. He could see their bones sticking out, their skin stretched over them, as though half their muscle and fat had dissolved away. They had the look of a corpse about them, even as they opened their sunken eyes and turned their head toward Jergal.

He wanted to think them beautiful—this was his beloved—but he could only stand, vaguely horrified at the sight of mortality at its worst. There was very little beauty here, only wretchedness. He hated the sight. Not Tav—never Tav—but all the evidence of what the illness had done, the pain, the injuries.

Why had Tav not sought healing?

The sight didn’t seem to alarm Jergal as he sat at their bedside. “I heard thy call,” he said quietly. “What dost thou require?”

Tav turned their eyes toward Jergal and reached one weakened hand toward them, a faint smile on their lips. “Maybe I just wanted to see an old friend one last time.”

“Thou art dying.” It wasn’t a question.

“I know.”

“Then dost thou require my resurrection services?”

“No.”

Gale jolted. No? No?

“He isn’t coming, is he?” Tav whispered, their hand still outstretched toward Jergal, lying inert on the sheets.

“Thou speakest of thy wizard. Thy newborn god.”

Tav’s lips twisted. “He’s not my god.”

Gale stared, his fists clenched at his sides. Shock and pain and anger swirled within him, tangling together in a complicated knot that was all too familiar, all so dreadfully mortal, that he couldn’t help but hate it.

“He’s forgotten me, I think,” Tav whispered.

The knot in his chest stopped swirling all of a sudden, frozen and cold. Forgotten…forgotten?

He wanted to rage. To tear this memory to shreds. To claw his way back in time and make Tav see the truth. Forgotten? Never.

But even he couldn’t alter the fabric of time.

You’re wrong, he wanted to scream. You’re wrong. I’m here. I’m here!

But it was just a memory.

Jergal said nothing at first to their remark, but at last he spoke. “Thou knowest I can give thee more time. Is that why thou hadst called?”

“No.” They breathed in shakily and Gale could hear the rattle of their breath as their lungs struggled to take in the air. “No. I just…didn’t want to be alone. When I died. For the last time.”

The last time.

The words echoed in his head, but he couldn’t stop the memory from playing out.

Jergal nodded slowly. “I see. And so thou didst call me.”

“Yeah. I decided…who better to watch me go than the Final Scribe?”

Jergal chuckled softly. “Ah. Thou hadst found it out.”

Tav’s smile was crooked, a ghost of their old humor. “I followed the clues. You made it kind of obvious.” They moved their hand closer again to Jergal’s. “Will you stay with me?”

“Is this truly what thou wishest? To die, and not return? If I recall, thy wizard hath promised thee eternity.”

Tav swallowed once, twice, silent. When they blinked, the glimmer of tears appeared in their eyes and then was blinked away. “I…don’t think I can wait for that chance, old friend. He’s been gone for months. Silent for months. What if he has forgotten me? And even if he hasn’t, this body…all the pain that just keeps building, I…”

They swallowed again, and this time the tears leaked from their eyes, dripping down the sides of their face. They took another shaky breath, and then couldn’t speak the words. Another rattling breath, and then a faint whisper, choked with tears.

“I don’t think I could start over and endure all this again. I don’t think I’m strong enough to wait for him.”

The words nearly drove Gale to his knees. He had been so close. Only days, mere days separated this memory from his reality. Tav couldn’t endure for a few more days, after yet another resurrection brought them back to life? They couldn't have endured one more cycle of death and rebirth, for him?

Why couldn’t they have waited?

For the first time, he began to understand the pain they kept hidden from him. Even as he understood, at the time, comparing the pain of the orb to Tav’s experience, even as they had bonded over a mutual knowledge of what it meant to be in pain every single day…he’d never realized the depth of their pain.

That it would be so bad that they would wish for death, even when promised eternity.

I don’t think I’m strong enough…

“Oh, my love,” he whispered. “If only you could have endured it, I…”

But the memory didn’t wait.

“It’s stupid,” Tav said, swallowing and finding a bit of strength to speak above a whisper. “I’ve died so many times since the nautiloid. I used to hate it. But I realized a while ago that…waiting there in the Fugue Plane…it was the only place I was free of this pain.”

“Thou were free of thy physical body in death,” Jergal said. “And where the soul doth go, physical pain doth not follow.”

“Exactly. You understand.” Tav took a deep breath, this one less difficult. “I think that’s why I’ve decided…the next time I die…I want to stay there.”

Jergal offered no opinion, he merely tilted his head and watched Tav, his glimmering eyes unblinking.

“So?” they asked. Again they inched their hand closer to Jergal. “Will you stay with me until I go? I know my soul is in safe hands with you.”

“Yes,” Jergal said, and at last he reached out to take Tav’s hand, his withered fingers curling around theirs. “I shall guide thy passing, as in days of old.”

Tav smiled again, their relief relaxing their entire body. “Thank you,” they whispered.

The memory faded as they closed their eyes, the moment of Tav’s passing obscured from Gale’s vision. He tried to cling to the memory, to see the moment of their final breath, but it was gone. Jergal had kept it from him.

He felt…empty. Hollow. For one, terrifying moment he wondered what all this divinity was for. If not to share with his lover, then…what?

But a spark kindled within him again. Was he not the god of ambition? Was he not the god of taking risks for the highest rewards? What was death to a god like him?

“You know where they are,” he said, turning once more to Jergal. “Take me to them. To wherever their soul resides.”

“Thou knowest as well as I that it would be of no use,” Jergal said. “Thy beloved’s soul is beyond thy reach, now. They hath made their decision.”

Gale could feel his anger rising, as it always did these days when someone dared to suggest what he could or couldn’t do. Anything was possible, given enough time and enough power—that was his creed as the god of ambition.

“Fine,” he said, keeping his voice carefully controlled. “Then I will seek them out myself.”

“Go, if thou pleaseth,” Jergal said, watching him turn away. “Perhaps it is best thou see them for thyself. But I will not aid thy search.”

“No matter. I will find them. Even if it takes me aeons.”

So saying, he left the material world, casting his essence through the planes, heading for that ever-shifting realm of the dead.

———

He materialized at last in the Fugue Plane, obscuring his presence and divinity in a fog that matched all the rest as he moved through the vastness of the gray plains, seeking, searching, looking for Tav. He scarcely knew what he would say to them, other than all the questions he wanted answers to. But he had to see them.

Why couldn’t you endure? Why did you think I had forgotten? Why did you stop believing in me? Why didn’t you wait?

Anger and despair fought for dominance in his mind, anger at Tav, anger at himself, despair at losing Tav, despair at his own follies. But something in his divinity kept him from ever really taking the blame. He was a god, after all. He knew better than mortals. It was Tav’s mortal reckoning that was the problem. Their mortal frailty. Their mortal inability to see the scope of eternity beyond their brief lifetime of pain. Perhaps if he had given them more glimpses of divinity, to show them what they had to look forward to…

His train of thought halted as he finally found them standing among the gray. Tav. His love.

They looked as they had in life, when they were at their very best. Healthy, standing straight, their hair full and thick, their skin clean and without blemish. They were stunning. Beautiful.

But gray. All over gray, in the same shades as every other wandering spirit here. Colorless and without vibrancy.

Yet...more solid than the wandering souls around them. Gale paused, remaining in the fog, watching. They stood on the plains, looking around, but not with the dull, aimless look of a soul shambling directionless in this plane. No, they appeared alert and confident, as if they knew themself, as if they had purpose.

After a moment, they seemed to find what they were looking for. They walked over to another soul that was sitting on the ground. The soul’s gaze was lifeless, dim, just the same as every other soul around them. This soul was a shade of their former self, their memories and life already slipping from their grasp. Tav softly called their name and held out their hand.

Kelemvor has sent me, they said, offering the soul a kind smile as the soul looked up slowly at them. I can take you to the City.

…Kelemvor?

Suddenly Gale understood.

Thy beloved’s soul is beyond thy reach.

So that’s what he meant.

Gale had come with two, perhaps three ambitious plans in mind. If he couldn’t convince Tav to be resurrected and then ascended, he had planned to ask them to be resurrected and then become his Chosen. If Tav didn’t agree to either, then Gale was prepared to ask them to join his domain in death. One way or another, he thought, they would be together. As gods, as a god and a Chosen, or as a god and a faithful soul. Together forever.

His divine mind hadn’t conceived of a fourth option. He hadn’t anticipated what was now clearly Tav's new reality, irrevocable and unchangeable. Yet it stood before him, the evidence as obvious as day.

Kelemvor had claimed Tav’s soul before he could. Tav was beyond his control.

Though his anger flared up briefly in response—how dare Kelemvor claim his beloved before Gale had even had a chance to speak with them?—his anger soon cooled as he watched Tav take the hopeless soul by the hand and help them to stand.

Come with me, they said to the soul. I can guide you safely to the city.

Tav had been chosen as one of Kelemvor’s spirit guides, to help guide souls to the City of Judgment, or perhaps even to other gods’ domains, if Kelemvor’s judgment were so inclined to send them there. As Gale watched the two of them disappear into the fog, Tav leading the other soul gently by the hand, all his questions, all his anger, all his despair melted away,

He was left feeling hollow.

His ambitious plan had been thwarted, long before he’d even had a chance to enact it. The defeat should have stung, but instead he felt numb to it.

All that time spent exploring his godhood in order to ascend Tav, wasted. Yes, he had to admit, despite the humility churning his gut with discomfort, he had been too enamored with learning the limits of his power. But he hadn’t been gone long.

They chose this over him…?

He hovered in those gray, shifting plains, a cloud of fog amidst more fog, as he contemplated the matter to himself. Ran a thousand useless scenarios in his mind for how this could have gone differently. Tried to tease out new paths forward, only to be blocked at every turn by the rules of divinity and souls. He didn’t notice how much time had passed, until movement drew his gaze back to his surroundings.

Tav had returned. Only this time, it was clear they weren’t looking for a particular soul. They looked around them slowly before saying, out loud, “I know you’re there. You can come out now.”

They wouldn’t say such things to a soul they had been sent to guide. Which meant only one thing.

They were looking for him.

He hesitated at first but then decided that no more harm could be done. Not to them, anyway. And how much worse could his divine heart break, really?

He dropped his cloak of fog, settling down to stand just a few feet away from them. As soon as he materialized, their eyes were on him. Not shocked or surprised. As if they had been expecting him.

There was, however, a faint hint of nervousness in their face.

They locked eyes in that gray space, the fog swirling around them. A silver-toned deity, glowing with electric blue divinity, and a grayscale spirit guide, their eyes burning with silver light. They watched him silently for a moment, waiting.

Gale opened his mouth to speak, to apologize, to beg, to argue, to weep, but not a sound issued forth. What was there to say? They were out of his reach now. Separated from him for an eternity.

In the end they spoke first.

“Kelemvor said you were looking for me,” they said, in his silence. “I suppose you have questions.”

He had so many questions. But has he watched them stand before him, looking more alert, more confident, more vibrant with energy and vitality than they had been in life, even on their best mortal days, his questions all died on his tongue. All save one.

“Are you…content?”

The question surprised them, he could see it in their face. They nodded. “I am. You’ve probably already guessed what I am, then?”

“One of Kelemvor’s spirit guides. To lead the lost souls wandering this plane to the City of Judgment to await Kelemvor’s judgment of them.”

“Yes.” They hesitated. He could sense the words on their tongue that they wanted to say but were uncertain about. He saw them swallow the words back.

“I have a purpose here,” they said, instead. “There are so many I can help. So many places to travel in this line of work. Sometimes, when Kelemvor decides someone fits a different god’s domain, I even get to visit it with them as I take them there. I’m still trying to figure my way about, but…”

They trailed off, again uncertain. Gale could only smile.

“It suits you,” he said softly.

And it did. In life, they had longed to travel, to see new sights and meet new people. And then when forced to travel, it had brought them nothing but pain. Yet even so they had pushed through, seeking to help everyone they could, even as they themself were hurting, broken by battle and their curse.

He still felt there were better alternatives—could he not have made them a god of new things, of rebirth, of travel, of care for the downtrodden, or more? But they had chosen this instead.

He should have expected nothing less and nothing more.

“Thank you,” they said. Again they hesitated, until finally, in a burst of words, “Gale, I’m sorry. I know you said—”

But Gale held up a hand, stopping them. “No. No need to apologize. You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

They frowned. “And yet you must think me the ultimate fool for giving up your offer of godhood for an eternity of playing messenger and guide.”

“What I think doesn’t matter,” he said. “But…no. I could never think you a fool. You simply…chose the path you felt was best for you.”

And now there was no turning back.

They both lapsed into thoughtful silence at that, each of them watching the other. He could feel them studying him, taking in the new glimpses of his divine presence, the silvered skin, the lightning crackling at his temples, the white-blue glowing eyes. Here in the Fugue Plane, the two of them didn’t look that dissimilar, with all the grays and silvers that coated Tav’s body now as well.

He still loved them, he realized. And he would always, he felt, love them. But that love had shifted. He was the god of ambition now, and they were a spirit guide of Kelemvor. Separated in death, yet still part of the same godly realms.

“Gale,” Tav said uncertainly. “I know you’re a new god, and there’s no one, that I know of, who is worshipping you who has died just yet. But when they do…perhaps Kelemvor will be kind enough to let me guide those souls to your domain. Maybe then we could…see each other. Once in a while. From a distance.”

Gale smiled at that. He could just picture Tav arriving at the edge of his domain, leading an ambitious soul to him. “A visit every now and again? I’d like that.”

“It won’t be every time, mind you,” Tav said. “There are a lot of guides. And you’re responsible for picking up your own faithful.”

Gale chuckled. “I am aware.”

“But other souls…ambitious souls who didn’t know you but that might fit your domain…well.” They offered him a little smile. “I’m just saying maybe this isn’t goodbye. It’s just…until we see each other again.”

It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough. Gale would never forget the chance he missed with them, to have them reign as a god at his side. But the hope shining in Tav’s silver-toned eyes was impossible to ignore or destroy. If they were content with this lot, perhaps, in time, he could be too.

“Very well,” he said. “I look forward to your first visit to my domain, then.” He gave them a little bow, a return to some of his mortal mannerisms.

Tav nodded, their smile faint, but as full of love as they had been in life. “Until we see each other again, Gale.”

He returned their smile and gentled his voice, bringing with it all the tenderness and love he still felt for them, and may yet feel for them for an eternity.

“Until then, my love. I will be waiting.”

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #gale #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #bg3 fic #bg3 fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #my fic #yet another angsty gale fic I guess #time to make the night crew sad

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freak-accident419 · 8 months ago

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You Can’t Spell ‘FWB’ without ‘Friend’

Derek Danforth x GN!Reader

Summary: Ever since the night before, you and Derek had become best friends with benefits. Bored at a fancy rich person party, you two decide to hook up again. However, when you’re inexplicably taken out of the mood, you two decide to do something else for the night: hang out like the best friends you were.

Word Count: 2.9k

Content: 18+ content, MDNI, (graphic descriptions of) sex (awkward), cursing, mentions of drugs, (best) friends with benefits, platonic (but you can interpret it as potentially romantic), short read, reader and Derek are just best pals that fuck, slightly ooc Derek, reader is rich/famous like Derek, attempt to hook up in the bathroom at a party (end up hanging out instead), smoking, drinking, Star Wars references, very chaotic

(A/n: Dedicating this to my wifey @xcherryerim 🫶 your post awaiting this fic meant a lot to me :3)

Holy fuck, you wanted to gouge your eyes out.

You had a glass of wine in your hand, staring at the crowd of old, wealthy hags, sipping the drink briefly out of boredom.

You were at yet another fancy party in some rich person’s mansion, accompanied by your best friend Derek, the son of President Jessica Danforth and CEO of Danforth Enterprises. You had been good friends with him for a very long time, the two of you always stirring up trouble whenever together.

You stare down at the deep scarlet of your drink, intensely zoning out as you thought about the night before. A pair of hands caressing the skin on your thighs, legs tightening around hips, wrists held above your head, and loud, sultry moans and sounds filling the room.

And then you snapped out of it as you felt a tap on your shoulder. You looked up to see exactly him—Derek.

“This party is ass,” you grumble to him, taking a sip from your drink.

“I know,” he replies, sipping his. “Any luck with finding investors?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, I have people doing that for me,” you scoff.

“Right,” he nods.

“Any luck with convincing some poor girl to invest in crypto?” You ask, looking at him as you raise an eyebrow.

“Nope,” he answers with a sigh, but a smile was plastered on his face.

You chuckled at his reply. “Hah. I’m not surprised. Crypto is fucking ridiculous.”

“Hey, fuck you.”

“Hm, you already did. What, once isn’t enough for you?” you retort quickly, sneering.

Derek’s eyes widened in response, frantically looking around to see if anyone heard you, then whispered, “Would—Would you be quiet?” He stressed under his breath. “Don’t say that fucking shit out loud, what if somebody heard?”

Last night didn’t really mean to happen. Like the close friends you were, you hung out with Derek at his mansion as you regularly do. However, one thing led to another because of a bottle of pinot noir and the unfortunate appearance of a sex scene in a movie you two watched together. Accordingly, you woke up sore the next morning. You two had established that it was just hooking up, no strings attached—but nobody could know about your arrangement. Not your friends, not your co-workers, and especially not Derek’s mother. While he was known for being promiscuous, the press couldn’t find out that Derek had hooked up with you, not only a good friend of Derek, but someone who was well known in the media due to their wealth.

You roll your eyes carelessly as flashes from last night began to cloud your mind. His fast breaths, his body, his skilled hands. Yet you shook it off easily. “Oh, come on, Derek, these old, ancient fucks can’t hear shit.” An old woman looked at you in disapproval after hearing you swear, walking away from you. “Okay, well, she heard that, but nobody’s gonna know! Don’t get your fuckin’ Louis Vuitton boxers in a twist.”

“They’re not—” he huffs in annoyance. You weren’t taking this seriously, which ultimately frustrated him; your carelessness reminded him too much of himself. “Y/n, who knows what’ll happen if anyone finds out? Like, you know I have to keep my fucking reputation up, and you do too. I don’t think there’s anything Wallace could do if the press found out we hooked up.”

You pause briefly until a smirk creeps up onto your lips in realization. “You regret it, don’t you?”

“No, of course I don’t regret it,” he answers immediately. Not regretting it was clearly an understatement. He really enjoyed last night, every second, every feeling. So he was slightly confused as to why you even doubted him. “Why do you ask?”

“It’s just—” you stutter out, “I woke up and you were gone, you know.” You mutter as you took out a cigarette, placing it into your mouth and lighting it.

His mouth went dry and he pursed his lips promptly. “I had to be at Danforth Enterprises,” he says, watching you exhale the smoke from your cigarette.

“Yeah, well, you could’ve sent me a text or written a note,” you shrug. “Like, it’s your house, dude. I was supposed to be the one leaving the morning after, not you.”

“Right, sorry,” he says simply. “Force of habit.” —It was true; he had an infamous history of one-night stands.

“Plus, I’m your best friend,” you reason. “I don’t want this to, like, ruin everything we had. Like, you’re still my buddy to me.”

He looked at you with a slightly amused grin. “Hey, nothing’s gonna change between us, alright? As you said, you’re my best friend, and it’s always gonna stay that way.” You chuckled, offering him a smile as you heard his response. He could be sentimental whenever he wanted. “Look, the day our friendship will ever change is the day I’ll shut down UDG and Nine Star. Which is basically, like, fucking never. Don’t worry about it.” Even as he said the last sentence, this could be interpreted in two different ways. The first one is that he’d never be in some sort of greater relationship with you, likewise his reluctance to stop scamming. The second one, however, implies that if he ever got into something serious with you, a moral obligation will arise, forcing him to shut down his unethical phishing companies just for you. Right. That sounded ridiculous. It was definitely not the latter.

The two of you both took a sip of your drink in unison.

“But, like,” he began, swirling his glass of wine in his hand engagingly, “Is this gonna be, like, a regular thing?”

You raise an eyebrow curiously after taking a sip of your own. “Like, hooking up?” He nods. “I mean… Whatever happens, happens.”

“Uhh, how do you mean?”

“Like, if it was a one-time thing, so be it. But if it’s gonna become regular, then also so be it,” you took a drag of your cigarette. “Doesn’t really matter. We can just, like, do whatever we want. Nothing has to be all predetermined. If we feel like fucking, then we’ll fuck. If not, then great, another day of walking normally.”

“Right,” he says.

You were bored.

So fucking bored.

You dressed all fancy for nothing, you feel. You were obligated to go the same reason Derek had: your wealthy, famous status. But it was so underwhelming and useless, even. As long as you made an appearance, then that should’ve been enough for everybody.

You put out your cigarette and finish your wine, nearly chugging it.

“Hey,” you tap on Derek’s shoulder, making him turn around to look at you after he had been gazing at a potential crypto girl. “Wanna do a quickie in this rich loser’s bathroom?”

He raises an eyebrow in interest.

***

You were held up against the wall of the bathroom, legs wrapped around Derek’s hips as his hands held you by your thighs, pounding his cock in and out of you at a fairly quick pace. Your hands held onto his arms and your chin rested on his shoulder tiredly as the occasional skin slapping against skin sound echoed in the room, hearing Derek grunt with almost every thrust.

You felt slightly uncomfortable and awkward. Like, you weren’t really aroused. It felt… dry? You didn’t know what you meant by that, but the friction was just… unsatisfying. He was grazing your walls in a way that just made it feel like burning, increasing your discomfort. But at least he looked like he was enjoying this. Good for him, you guessed.

This never happened before, so it was sort of… really weird to you, to say the least.

To be honest, you were kind of bored. Like, really bored. How the hell were you still bored? You temporarily escaped an old rich people party to have rigorous sex in their bathroom with your best friend, but you were still bored.

“Shit…” you mutter, disgruntled, as he moved consistently inside you, the burning sensation catching up with you. “What the fuck? Why does—ow—Why the fuck is this hurting?”

Derek pulls his head away from your shoulder and looks at you in concern, his dick still inside of you. “Are you okay? Should I go slower?” He offers, raising an eyebrow as he searched for hesitance in your eyes, then looking you up and down.

“Yeah, sure, okay,” you nodded. “It’s whatever, just—just keep going,” you dismiss in a low murmur. As he starts again at a slower pace, you still had an uncomfortable expression on your face. He was moving his hips but all you felt was mere irritation.

“Okay, what—what the hell?” You groan as you still felt shitty, resulting in Derek stopping his thrusts.

“What’s the issue? Am I still going fast? Should I slow down more?”

“Yeah, uh, probably, yeah,” you say as your head goes back on his shoulder. He proceeds with his movements, his cock sliding in at an even slower pace, stretching your walls more intricately.

“Is this—is this better?” He asks as he moves patiently, steadily moving in and out of your body.

And it wasn’t even a minute in before you would interrupt again.

“Umm… Actually I,” you begin, sighing, “I’m just—I don’t know, I’m not feeling it.”

Derek slides out, still holding you up against the wall by your thighs and raises an eyebrow, looking into your eyes. “Seriously?”

You nod simply.

“Okay, what’s wrong?” He asks, unsure if it was something on his part.

“I don’t know, I’m just not really feeling it,” you reply awkwardly.

“Weren’t you the one who brought it up—”

“I’m not feeling it anymore, dude, I’m sorry!” you exclaim, throwing your hands up in surrender.

He puts you down as you put your clothing back on. As you slip your underwear back on, you look at him standing by the same spot by the wall. “Are you still hard?” You ask, raising an eyebrow insightfully.

“Yup,” he shrugs shamelessly.

You sort of felt bad, since you were the one who had the idea of fucking in the bathroom in the first place, making him all riled up.

You sigh softly and you two look at each other in silence. You let out a quiet huff.

“Want me to jerk you off?”

Soon after his release, he put his boxers and pants on leisurely. You were in front of the mirror, trying to fix your hair and clothing, ensuring that you didn’t just come back from a sexual experience in the bathroom.

“Dude, look at how much expensive perfume these jagoffs own,” you chuckle amusedly, looking down at the bathroom sink counter. On the surface were several perfumes of Armani, Burberry, Dolce & Gabbana, as well as a few lotions.

“Hey, don’t—don’t touch those, Y/n.” Too late. You sprayed him with one.

You two grimaced at the scent.

“Well shit, I didn’t even know what I expected,” you cough severely, waving your hand around your nose as you despised the shitty perfume’s smell.

“I told you not to touch them, idiot,” he huffs, buckling his belt as he scowled at the odor.

“Don’t be a dickwad, you totally would’ve been curious enough to try them too,” you scoff, looking through the cabinets of the bathroom mirror and sinks. “Hey, look,” you smirk, throwing a small object at him that you had found.

He caught it involuntarily with his hands and inspected the item: it was a bottle of Viagra. He raised an eyebrow, looking at you and laughed softly. “I am not surprised that these old fucks can’t get it on,” he threw it back at you and you shelved it back in its original place.

You watch him take a hit from his vape and you sigh from boredom. You didn’t want to be in this bathroom any longer, but you definitely didn’t want to be out in the party either.

“Dude, I’m bored,” you whine as he handed you his vape pen.

“‘Sup Bored, I am Derek,” he muttered sarcastically, under his breath. You rolled your eyes and handed him back his vape once you were done with it.

“Can you—can you not?” you mumble exasperatedly in response as he just raised an eyebrow in amusement.

“Okay, let’s go,” he says, making his way towards the door, “We’re getting out of here, you can ride with me.”

“Hold on,” you interject quickly. “We should—I mean—I should probably wait a few minutes after you leave the bathroom to get out. You know, so no one will suspect us if we were to, like, walk out of the bathroom together.”

“Right. Yeah. Yeah, you have a point,” he nods.

You had to be careful from now on, realizing that just through the mere plan of leaving the bathroom alternately. This meant you had to be more delicate and thoughtful with every action and word that came from you—and Derek’s—to keep this messy secret.

***

You were laid on the bed beside Derek, one hand tangled in his hair and the other holding an ice cream cone as the bright colors of the TV in front of you nearly blinded your eyes. Your arm was propped up behind Derek’s head in order to play with his hair, feeling the soft curls brushing your palm and fingertips. The two of you looked intensely at the screen as you ate your ice cream in one hand, which was graciously prepared by Derek’s personal chef.

“Dude, Jar Jar Binks was definitely a Sith Lord,” you blurt in a low mutter. Derek turns his head and looks at you in befuddlement.

“What? No. Y/n, no, no, no, do not get started on this again—”

“I’m just saying, dude, that whole ‘goofy idiot’ appearance was hiding the fact that he was a powerful Sith Lord!” You exclaim passionately. “Have you seen his fighting style?”

“Yes, I’ve seen his fighting style, and it looks as if he’s chugged twenty fuckin’ martinis, then atrociously became crossfaded through several, reckless bong rips,” he replied straightforwardly.

You pause briefly as you realized. “Derek, I swear, if that was a reference to that one hangover I had back in December, I swear fucking to god—”

He met you with silence.

You nearly whisper, “Was it?”

The smirk that rose onto his lips told you everything, and you playfully smacked the top of his head since your hand was already there before, tangled in his hair. “Ow,” he muttered, yet his smirk never ceasing. “Look, all I’m saying is that I respect you for that. You are, like, the craziest person I know in the best fucking way possible.”

“Uh, thanks, I guess,” you mumble, fighting the inevitable curl of your lips that formed a flattered, soft grin. “Okay, anyways, all I’m saying, is that not only was it a tactic to trick his opponents, but he could’ve also been using the force! And how many times has he avoided death?”

“Okay, Y/n, that’s enough, lay off the grass,” he jokes, letting out a low snicker. “How is Jar Jar even relevant? We—we aren’t even watching the prequels, isn’t this The Empire Strikes Back?”

“No, I’m pretty sure we’re watching Return of the Jedi,” you say confidently.

“No, this is—this is definitely Empire Strikes Back,” he refutes, then pauses. “Did we seriously forget?”

“Well, there’s a billion of movies in this franchise, so we’re bound to mix up its titles. Hm, well, it can’t be The Empire Strikes Back, because Return of the Jedi is the one with that sexy Leia outfit,” you reason, shrugging. Derek raises an eyebrow. “Okay, okay, you know what, this isn’t even the point, the point is, that Jar Jar is relevant because it’s fuckin’ Star Wars!”

“Whatever,” Derek rolls his eyes with an amused grin that swiftly transitioned into a mischievous smirk. “You look like Jar Jar,” he mumbles.

You let out a playful, offended gasp. “Oh yeah? You look like Jabba the Hut.”

His head turned directly towards you and let out a exaggerated gasp as well. “Fuck you, you look like Yoda!”

“And you look like that fucking gremlin-looking piece of shit that’s Jabba’s pet!”

“Yeah, well, you look like—”

This continued a little longer until the both of you got too tired, unable to think of any more ugly Star Wars characters to compare each other to—which then resulted in a peaceful truce.

Your fingers proceeded to play with Derek’s curls as you took a bite of your ice cream, then letting your head rest on his shoulder. With this action, however, you suddenly thought about the night before and how things had led up to that event.

“Hey, are there any sex scenes in this?” You ask quietly, feeling his short strands of hair tangle loosely around your fingers.

He scoffs with a slight grin. “It’s a fucking Star Wars movie.”

You two burst out laughing. “Right, right, that’s—you have a point,” you giggle, catching your breath. “Oh, thank god, then.”

“Why? Are you that against having a repeat of last night?” He accuses, attempting to sound more playful, rather than the genuine concern that he felt.

“No, it’s just—” You struggled to think about how you wanted to word it. “I really like this. You know? I’m too tired, I’m very comfy, I…” You nuzzled further into his neck as your head rested on his shoulder. “This is nice. I like this.”

He smiles warmly to himself. “I like this too.”

The rest of the night was quite tame. You finished your ice cream before you finished the movie. Except, you didn’t really finish the movie entirely, because you two fell asleep in each other’s arms in the middle of it. Yet seen through your easy laughter and smiles, you were reassured indubitably: nothing was ever going to change between the two of you.

#derek danforth #derek danforth x reader #derek danforth x you #derek danforth x gn!reader #derek danforth smut #the beekeeper #the beekeeper movie #the beekeeper fanfic #josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson x reader #mike schmidt x reader #josh futturman x reader #clapton davis x reader #gender neutral #gender neutral reader

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shy-urban-hobbit · 1 year ago

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"I'm telling you Geralt, my songs are definitely working."

"A few contracts not skimping on payment isn't proof Jaskier. It's coincidence." Geralt replied as he stuffed his newly purchased supplies into Roach's saddlebag. After two years, he didn't need to look to know the bard was probably doing his uncanny impression of a landed trout. His default expression when he thought himself gravely offended.

"Oh hoho. So it's proof you want? Fine, I'll get you proof you old cynic - wait, I'm here calling you old, how old are you? I know Witchers age differently but it's all so contradictory. I remember one text claiming you aged backwards. Backwards!"

Geralt was blessedly distracted from Jaskier's tangent by a small tug on his cloak causing him to look behind him and then down.

A small, tear stained face with huge, liquid brown eyes looked up at him. The hand that wasn't clutching Geralt's cloak fisted in the skirt of a green dress as she shuffled her small, booted feet. Witcher and child stared at one another and even Jaskier had fallen silent.

"Are you the White Wolf?" She asked in a small voice.

Geralt could only nod in response, keeping an eye and both ears out for angry adults about to accuse him of kidnapping.

"I can't find my Papa." She sniffled, voice trembling and eyes welling up.

He felt himself slip into Witcher mode, trying to think what could be snatching people from a crowded town in the middle of the day, "What do you mean you can't find him, has he gone missing or-"

"Sweetheart, do you mean you got separated from your Papa in the market?" Jaskier gently interjected before Geralt could start fully interrogating her. The girl gave a small nod, turning her attention to the bard now kneeling in the dirt next to her.

Geralt felt his face heat up. Right. Just a lost child. That was also a possible (and the most logical) explanation.

"It's ok, we'll help you find him. Won't we Geralt?" Jaskier's tone of voice leaving no room for argument.

It turned out that Jaskier's idea of helping was having the girl perch on Geralt's shoulders and scan the top of the crowd for her father while he stood playing silly little dittys to keep her from crying again. Geralt holding onto her shins lightly and trying to ignore the mess being made on his cloak by muddy feet.

"I see him! Papa! Papa!"

Geralt tightened his grip slightly as her weight shifted with her frantic waving. Waiting until he was clearly making his way over to them before setting her gently back on the ground.

"Mika! Oh thank the God's." He turned his attention to the two men, his eyes widened as he took Geralt in fully.

"You're-"

"Hmmm."

Geralt tried to hide his surprise as the man grasped his hand in a firm if slightly clammy grip. "My thanks Wolf. I swear, if I went home without her my wife would make sure I shared the same fate as that Hag from the song of yours." He said, smiling awkwardly at his own attempt at humour, "Come on Mika, say goodbye. Oh, here."

He reached into his satchel and pulled something out. Geralt could smell warm sugar as he handed it over. "It's not much, but I don't know a single person who doesn't like cake. I could do with cutting down myself." He said, patting his own slight paunch before taking his daughters hand with a final "Thank you." Mika turning back to give a wave which they both returned before the two of them disappeared into the crowd.

"What?" Geralt asked as they left the town. The bard hadn't stopped grinning at him like the cat who'd got the canary.

"Nothing. It just, the timing and everything. Seems Destiny agreed with me for once. The songs are making a difference."

"Hmm." Geralt fought the urge to roll his eyes.

"Oh don't give me that." Jaskier said, swatting Geralt in the side as he unwrapped the package Mika's father had given them, "You saw as well as I did there were plenty of town guards around but she went to you. She wanted you. Oooh, maybe this would be good for a new song. The Gentle Wolf! Yes I- hey! "

"No cake for you until you stop." Geralt stated, popping a piece into his own mouth to hide his smile.

#the witcher #the witcher fanfiction #geraskier #jaskier x geralt #jaskier/geralt #witcher geralt #geralt #geralt of rivia #witcher jaskier #jaskier

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undreaming-fanfiction · 2 years ago

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Just A Kiss

Joining the congrats train for @withacapitalp, happy birthday Liam! You're not escaping the frog theme and cursed Steve, not on my watch.

"Look man, I don't really care if you're actually a prince, a model or a lying hobo, the answer is still no."

The frog looked at him with so much sass Eddie actually considered caving in, but...nah. It was disgusting. Even though it looked kind of cute with that weird pattern on its head that looked like a really fluffy mane of hair, light brown eyes and slight pout. "Like it's going to kill you, man," it croaked out and Eddie took another drag from his cigarette. Talking frogs. Yep, just another normal day in Hawkins.

"Look, even if I wanted to, which I don't - zoofilia isn't cool under any pretense, just for your info - I'm pretty sure I'm just high as a kite. You're a frog, which duh, you probably know that, but...uh. I don't want to wake up in the morning with the unsettling knowledge that I smooched some poor non-consenting animal and all I got from that was some rash on my mouth. Hey, can animals even consent? That's...no, you can't." One more drag of his cigarette. Maybe two. Make it another cigarette, shit. He didn't think that one joint was so strong.

The frog rolled his eyes again. "I'm not telling you to go and such face with a dolphin or something. Plus animals don't give consent because they a) can't talk, b) aren't cursed human beings. Like yours truly."

Eddie bit the filter in a futile attempt to sober up. Didn't help. "So you've said. Cursed human. Sorry if I don't believe you, froggy."

"It's Steve."

Eddie snorted out the smoke through his nose. "Steve. A frog named Steve."

There it was, that adorable eye roll again. "It's a temporary frog, otherwise full-time human Steve." It even tried to put its...paws? No, not paws, frogs don't have paws, legs? Front legs? Cute legs. Those, on its...hips? Eddie didn't know enough about frog anatomy but hell. It was adorable.

He giggled, brushing back his hair. "Sure, full-time human Steve. Is this a part-time job, then? A hobby?"

"A fucking curse, that's what it is." The frog almost growled, except it ended the annoyed tone with an unintentional ribbit. "Shit. Have you ever had hiccups? This - ribbit - oh god fuck why - ribbit - is worse."

Eddie just shook his head, wondering if he'd remember this trip the next day. He hoped so. "You'd think it would be natural to you." When the frog - sorry, Steve - just stared, he corrected himself. "For a frog, I mean. Which you're obviously not, except now you are-"

"Which part of a it-was-a-curse-from-an-old-hag-my-dad-pissed-off-a-few-decades-ago don't you understand? Ribbit, god make it stop-"

"Pretty much everything that wasn't a ribbit, pal," grinned Eddie and lit another cigarette. But it was a bit too quiet and when he turned to part-time-frog Steve, he wondered if maybe the trip was finally going away, if he'd just been chilling with an innocent frog for which his nerdy brain made a full page of lore, except- "What?" he asked the frog who was eyeing his smokes.

The frog groaned and tried to rub its still-not-sure-if-leg-or-paw over its forehead. "Look, if you're not willing to put me out of my misery either by - ribbit fuck this - stepping on me or giving me an absolutely consensual kiss, at least give me a cigarette. After the day I've had, I really need it."

"Uhhhh..." Eddie thought for a moment. Was it animal cruelty if he lit up a cigarette and put it next to a frog? The frog didn't have to smoke it, right? And he had no way of verifying if the frog was a minor. In...frog years or whatever.

The frog narrowed its eyes at him. "A kiss or a cigarette, dude. Choose now."

"Geez, so demanding for such a little guy," grumbled Eddie but obliged, lit another cigarette and handed it to the frog...the frog who grabbed it with both palms and took a long drag from it, closing its eyes.

"I really, really needed this," it muttered. Eddie wondered it being a frog would help him save on the smokes. It looked like its lungs were fairly small, one cigarette would last him for ages, but how would he buy them? So many questions...questions interrupted by Steve blowing a tiny puff of smoke from its - his? - mouth and looking at Eddie. "Don't you have better things to do than smoke with a temporary frog on a Friday evening?"

Eddie rolled his eyes. "I liked you better when all you could say was ribbit. But actually no, I'm waiting for a few of my friends."

And wow, could that frog smirk. "Can't wait to meet them."

Eddie was still pretty convinced that kissing a frog was off the table. But when a familiar pizza van parked next to him, Jonathan and Argyle jumping out, he found himself reconsidering. Just a little. Because it would have saved him from the following conversation.

"How are you doing, my man?" smiled Argyle and pulled Eddie into a hug, cracking his spine in the process. Argyle's bear hugs tended to do that.

Jonathan just stood there, staring. "Is that frog smoking a cigarette?"

The world slowed down and Eddie was just about to explain that the weed was a bit too strong this time and he might have hallucinated that the frog was talking to him, but then it blew another cloud of smoke from its tiny mouth and glared at Jonathan. "You've got a problem with that?" it asked in a dangerous croak.

"Oh yeah," offered Eddie weakly, "guys, this is Steve. Steve, this is Jonathan and Argyle."

And Argyle, bless his perpetually stoned heart, just walked towards Steve and shook his front leg/paw/hand/whatever. "Cool, nice to meet you, dude! Hey, do you just smoke cigarettes or are you in for some Purple Palm Tree Delight?"

Full time Steve or whatever just gave a pleased ribbit. "I thought you'd never ask."

And that's how Eddie, Jonathan and Argyle ended up stoned out of their minds...along with a frog. The nights were warm and they ended up napping next to each other in a patch of grass next to the Lover's Lake, setting tiny stoned Steve to the side to make sure no one crushed him in their sleep. And Eddie, in his blissed out state of mind, really didn't look forward to the next morning. Froggy Steve was fun. He liked Steve. He didn't look forward to the moment he'd have to accept that Steve was just a shared hallucination between the three of them.

Except...

Except in the morning, he got woken up by someone cuddling him. And that wasn't unusual, Argyle was a cuddler, except he was wrapped around Jonathan like a very dependent octopus. Maybe it was the blanket. Yes, definitely, the blanket must have fallen off him and crumpled behind his back and-

And the blanket snored.

Flipping around, he found himself face to face with an absolutely gorgeous young man. The bitchy slope of his eyebrow, furrowed in sleep, the numerous moles...Eddie's breath hitched.

Before he realized what was happening, his eyes opened and the lazy smile he gave Eddie made him want to jump in the lake and swim to the other side and back. Just to cool down a little bit. "Morning, Eddie," he yawned and Eddie recognized that voice. With or without the ribbit.

"...Steve?" he tried, and the smile just widened. "Oh god, this is going to sound so weird, but I was really convinced that you were a frog when I met you yesterday."

Steve just stretched those biteable arms above his head and groaned, closing his eyes again. Only then did Eddie notice he was wearing his spare clothes, a bit too tight and mismatched, but it was all he had in the van. "I was a frog, man. Is your memory usually this bad?"

Eddie's mouth hung open. Oh okay. That explained everything. Except it fucking didn't. "Uhhhh...no. I mean. I remembered you being a frog so it's a good thing, no?" Squinting at Steve, he slowly added, "how come you're not a frog anymore?" It sounded stupid, even to him.

But Steve just rolled his eyes with clear affection. "It's what I told you when I met you. A kiss."

"Did I kiss a frog? I mean, you?!" he blurted out before he could catch himself, unsure which one of those two things shocked him more.

One more disapproving head shake. "Shit memory, told you. Nah, it was Argyle. We were high, I mentioned the curse thing and Argyle just said "anything for my bro" and kissed me. I turned back and you...uh. Kind of freaked out because I didn't have any clothes on, so you raced back to your van to get me something. Then we smoked a bit more and went to sleep."

"Oh." Maybe the weed really was stronger than usual because Eddie's mouth had no filter that morning, even more so than usual. "Is it weird that I'm kind of jealous of him?"

Steve opened one eye and smirked at him. "What, you dream of kissing frogs often?"

Eddie hit his shoulder and laughed, mindful of the sleeping pair next to him. "Nope, but sure will dream of kissing you, pretty boy. Unless that would turn you back. Would it?"

There were hands on his hips pulling him down, back to the inviting grass and towards Steve's warm body. "Only one way to find out," he grinned.

#steddie #implied jargyle #steddie ficlet #steddie drabble #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #stranger things ficlet

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tiafrye · 3 months ago

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I've heard at least once that there's a theory of Mythal is being behind Wardens, Old God child ritual, Andraste, so on and so forth.

So... did anyone thought about that Mythal might be responsible for literally everything? And I mean everything, not just these parts. The entire thing.

Solas is not really good at succeeding in stuff. His plans basically fail every single time. Sure, the one time he does succeed it leads to a catastrophic event that changes the destiny of an entire race.

But what if the Veil plan actually worked because it was not his to begin with? Or very heavily inspired by whispers of a vengeful spirit.

In the lore Mythal is said to be an avatar of justice. And we all know what happened to a certain spirit of Justice once it possessed a victim of abuse. It became Vengeance and their combined reckoning did "shook the very heavens". DAO tells about how the vessel of Mythal is influencing the course of the Fifth Blight, rule-altering secrets about Wardens and corrupted Old Gods. DA2 presents the consequences of executing vengeance. DAI dives deep into the origins of the Veil and the culprit behind it. To whom Mythal quite willingly gives in when the moment is right. The old hag knows that Solas will fail once again. And that failure will bring her the needed target from a very convenient blight fridge it was rotting inside of, until the time was right. She knows that this failure will bring husband-dear right into her timeline where she can finally deliver her reckoning to him by her own hand.

That would've been... oof.

#dragon age #solas #mythal #datv spoilers #because elgar'nan #i can't stop thinking about it

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fairyhaos · 10 months ago

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seventeen and which mythical beings they are

requested by @mesanthropi ^^ physically held myself back from going on rants for shua's and hao's and jeonghan's pls (iykyk)

masterlist

seungcheol

vampire. formidable, mysterious vampire seungcheol from a powerful family name who lives in a huge, ominous castle and somehow manages to make sucking blood look sexy… shakes he's so fine oh my god. honestly vampire!cheol with glowing red eyes and an intimidating presence and the most smug fucking smirk in the world is such a vibe, and he also has the whole “i was born centuries and centuries ago” old hag thing down to an art

jeonghan

siren. specifically a mermaid-type siren that lives in the sea and has a pretty iridescent tail. water-dwelling being jeonghan just makes so much sense to me bc he has their fluidity and their peaceful and their mischief and also??? jeonghan with a shimmery mermaid tail and captivating siren voice???? i'd willingly drown myself for him actually, siren song be damned. he has the silvery voice of a siren and the ethereal looks to be one fr

joshua

wood nymph. bambi-eyed wood nymph joshua who communicates with the birds and tends to his forest and has flowers weaved in his hair and stars embedded around his eyes… the nymph!joshua obsession is Real guys and i am definitely a victim of it. curly haired joshua is just sooo wood nymph coded and i can see him as some soft-spoken, pretty being who lives in a birch tree and guides stray travellers when they get lost in his woods

junhui

witch junhui with his black cat familiar and his dented cauldron and his cottage in the middle of the forest!! witch junhui with his mini apothecary and his goofy-sounding spells and his eyebrow permanently half-singed bc his enchantments keep backfiring!! witch junhui with his soft spoken words and bright laugh and total kindness to everyone who happens upon his home!! witch junhui is so so dear to me and he really is just. a witchy little dude

hoshi

shapeshifter. does this idea feed into his furry agenda a bit too much? yeah, it kinda does, but oh my god just imagine tiger shapeshifter hoshi who's part human but can turn into a large, big-fanged and bold-striped tiger at a moment's notice. he really just genuinely gives shapeshifter vibes, and every year he schedules one week where he'll traipse off into the nearest mountains and blow off some steam in his tiger form for seven days

wonwoo

dragon. okay so this is kinda not a humanoid mythical being, but wonwoo is soooo big friendly dragon coded. i can imagine him as a large, red scaly dragon, snoozing atop his massive hoard of gold in a secluded cave in the forest, little wisps of smoke coming out of his nostrils as he snores contentedly. that doesn't mean he can't be scary if he wants to tho, and can burn down any puny humans who try to steal his hoard in the blink of an eye

woozi

demigod. part-god woozi is just such a vibe okay, and he rlly does give off a hercules-type feel, where he can do inhuman things and seems almost untouchable in his awesomeness, even though he's right there in front of you. and he has a hatred of the gods and a mild tolerance for humans but at the end of the day, he appreciates and loves both for all that they do. (also in a percy jackson demigod sense, he is totally an apollo's kid and no i don't make the rules)

minghao

fae. y'all know how far my fairy minghao agenda runs by now and like ??? can you blame me ???? the idea of sassy smol hao with fairy wings and a squeaky voice is cute and all, but also i just think he fits the idea of the entire tall, mysterious fae folk really well too. with his pointy fae ears and his shrewd gaze and his ability to say half-truths and riddles and give sage advice about how to live your life all at once, he really is very much a fae-like person.

mingyu

some sort of demon. he's so loud and bright and kind that, despite his huge presence and glowing eyes and the horns protruding out of his mess of fluffy hair, you don't even register that he's some dangerous, hellish creature before something happens and he just snaps, the air around him visibly darkening as he tears after the thing that caused him to lose control. he's so sweet and kind but so undeniably dangerous all at once.

dokyeom

elf. i'm thinking lord of the rings elves, except i haven't actually watched lord of the rings but i have this idea of them being tall and rich and elegant beings, and it makes me think of dokyeom. he's just so pretty, and the elves rely on the natural elements to survive, right? dokyeom is just so sunbeams peeking through forest leaves, so little rabbits bounding through the undergrowth, so hand-whittled arrows and folk songs around a campfire and tall, tall, beautiful elves.

seungkwan

will o’ the wisp or a sprite. he's endearing and mysterious, and once you gain his favour he's staying glued to ur shoulder for the entirety of your dangerous quest through the magical woods. he's very chatty and also very elusive, constantly flitting around in the air and disappearing in a wink of light before appearing on your nose once again. you can't tell if he's a help or a hindrance, but he's cute and bright and makes the journey a lot better

vernon

a smurf. smurfs count as mythical beings okay, and while ive never actually watched any smurf movie thing ever, i think vernon would make an absolutely brilliant smurf. they give off silly goofy weird adorable vibes, and that's basically vernon in a nutshell. also smol vernon with blue skin and lives in a mushroom looking house??? that's kinda cute and actually something that vernon might wanna do irl not gonna lie

chan

nine-tailed fox. he's so mysterious and sexy and kind of dangerous but like. his unbelievable handsomeness kinda outweighs the danger. honestly i don't really have an explanation for this other than that the Vibes r there for some reason and he'd look so cool with those glittery wisps of magic threading through the air around him as his eyes glow a mysterious colour before he launches into a kdrama-esque fight sequence against the latest monster

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megumimania · 10 months ago

Text

TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES - ryomen sukuna

summary: your boyfriend hates modern technology.

warnings: sukuna x fem reader, sukuna is an old hag (affectionately), sukuna not fucking with consumerism is he in his marxist era?🤔, sukuna is a softie when he wants to be, sukuna is ooc because i hate writing mean men :), yuji being a hottie is my fav hc of all time, i can’t believe im giving amazon free promo 😞.

notes: i missed you guys!

sukuna cant wrap his head around technology.

he doesn’t understand why companies sell ‘new’ phones every single year, when they perform the same exact functions as the previous one.

he doesn’t like how your coffee machine has too many buttons when all he wants in the morning is just a cup of black coffee to get him through the day. sukuna just prefers doing things the old fashioned way which makes him subject to teasing by you and his little brother yuuji.

he doesn’t care though, constantly talking about how he’s ‘escaped the matrix’ by not owning an up to date phone and only getting his news from the daily paper and tv. however his view on technology changed once you brought alexa home.

initially he thought that it was a speaker and was confused to why you bought another one. “it’s not just a speaker ryo,” you corrected him swiftly. “she’s a digital assistant that can tell you the time, the weather, recipes and she can even tell jokes.”

sukuna looked at you with the same wariness he’d give to a snake oil salesman. “can’t your phone do the same exact thing for less?” you knew he was lowkey right but your stubbornness refused to let him get the upper hand.

“that’s not the point babe.” you playfully rolled your eyes at him, carrying the box to the kitchen counter and setting it down with a loud thump. “now if you’ll excuse me i’ll be busy setting my alexa up.” you huffed as you opened the instructions trying to make sense of them.

sukuna looked over at your focused expression. your brow furrowed with concentration as you read the instructions. it was simple really and within a couple of minutes the alexa was ready to go and by the joyous look of pride on your face sukuna knew that he was going to be in for one hell of a ride.

and unfortunately he was right.

life with an alexa was hell. sukuna barely got through the day without hearing the monotone female voice rattle off the hottest food spots or tell you a stupid joke that was suddenly the most funniest thing alive. he used to make you laugh like that!

he felt like the speaker was taunting him. hell he couldn’t even have some down time with you without that stupid speaker getting in the way. it was literally like he was third wheeling all the time and he hated it. you were his girlfriend first!

sukuna didn’t like being second best. especially to a glorified speaker.

you and sukuna were cuddling on the couch together after finishing a movie—terminator 2 to be exact. “so what do you think of the alexa?” you asked whilst the credits rolled, mindlessly stroking his cheek with your acrylic nails whilst he rubbed your legs.

sukuna tensed at the question as he tried to think of a way to answer without sounding like a complete asshole. “well…im not really a fan.” you could already tell from the dry tone and his poor attempt of acting unfazed that he was lying through his teeth.

“if that’s the case then why did i find it in the bathtub?” you pulled up the waterlogged alexa in a ziploc bag. sukuna would usually have a sarcastic reply in his arsenal but he was now looking at you as if he was a deer caught in headlights.

“fine, i used the damned thing.” he raised his hands up as he accepted defeat much to your surprise. “it fell into the bathtub when i was trying to stream that megan the stallion song yuuji told me to listen to. he said something about the song needing to go number 1 on the charts.”

you sat back in disbelief. you didn’t know whether to be annoyed, angry or smitten with him. “i’m glad yuji is helping you become more cultured but why did my alexa have to die for such a good cause!” you wailed dramatically collapsing on the floor, clutching the alexa to your chest.

sukuna lifted you off the floor with such ease it almost made you jealous. “stop whining i already ordered another one. it should be coming in a few days.” he said with his usual gruff tone that was laced with softness, peppering kisses down your neck.

you giggled as his stubble tickled your skin. “that was quick, you missed it that much already?” you teased him whilst you hooked your arms around him running your nails down the nape of his neck.

sukuna rolled his eyes at your playful expression. “i’m still anti technology, don’t be fooled.” one thing sukuna was to his core was a hater but like most haters he rarely stood on business.

“whatever you say babe.” you hummed biting back a smile. you and sukuna knew give or take two months that he’d change his opinion about it.

#vina writes: jjk #vina writes #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x female reader #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #ryomen x reader #sukuna x reader #jjk fanfic #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen fluff #sukuna x black reader #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #sukuna #jjk sukuna

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