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Top 30 Innovative Kitchen Gadgets for 2024: Revolutionize Your Culinary Experience
Welcome to the 2024 Innovative Kitchen Gadgets Revolution! Gone are the days when the kitchen was just a room for cooking. Welcome to 2024, where kitchens are practically space stations, and the gadgets? Well, theyâre nothing short of sci-fi! You thought your smartphone was the peak of technology? Wait till you meet these kitchen gadgets â theyâre so advanced, they might start giving you lifeâŠ
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There's a really non-obvious consequence to all those "smart" appliances out there. Your average corporation lasts less than ten years before it's acquired, goes bankrupt, or is no longer doing the thing it first started out doing. However, all those internet-of-things gadgets still need someone to be paying the server bill, otherwise half of the features go "poof."
This is great for me: I get cheap appliances, tools, construction robots, and pseudo-sentient war machines because most of their functionality required a now-nonexistent web service to be working. For instance, this oven I pulled out of a ditch works perfectly fine to cook food, but the "Turkey Mode" that makes an obnoxious gobbling sound on Thanksgiving Day no longer activates on its own.
Not everything is as lucky. Lots of gadgets are just totally useless, so they get turned into other things. A lobotomized robot lawnmower quickly became a regular ol' human-operated lawnmower with the attachment of a Princess Auto two-stroke engine and a very, very long wood pole. And then there's the stuff that just gets plain weird.
A few weeks ago, I got a new microwave from the "gettin' spot." It was due to be recycled, to be turned into some other microwave. I figured it would still work perfectly fine, so I brought it home, plugged it in, and got ready to heat up some Pizza Pockets. Nothing doing: the screen had only one functional "app" remaining.
On its flickering high-dollar OLED screen, I saw the words "death prediction date." And, clicking on it, the microwave began to read out an entirely plausible date and cause for my personal demise. For a couple days after, guests to my house were also amazed by the microwave's chillingly reasonable projection of their inevitable fatal accident or terminal illness.
I'll never know why the Guangzhou Champion Home Appliance Company imbued the microwave with such an eerie memento mori, but I am grateful for it. The whole experience taught me that life is short, far too short to listen to some snarky-ass microwave that won't even cook a Pizza Pocket. If it's so smart, maybe it should have guessed that I was going to drag it behind my truck on the highway until the transformer â with its delicious, copper-rich windings â fell out.
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Smart Home Gadgets!đSmart appliances, Home cleaning Invention kitchen Makeup,Beauty
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#gadget#gadgets#home#home & lifestyle#smart gadgets#amazon#amazing cool smartlife tools design productdesign smarthomegadgets gadget invention gadgets smarthome tech amazongadgets#text post#tender is the night#tending#vainilla#shorts#short video#smart home#smartgadgets
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Big Dick Brother Energy
When you join Task Force 141, you fully expect to have to fend off aggressive, testosterone-fueled men who think anything with a cunt should service them just for existing. Instead, you get a team who welcomes you heartily and truly embrace the idea of brothers in arms. They see you as an extension of themselves, one who deserves their protection and care.
This is amazing on the battlefield. Saving each other is only second to completing a mission objective, and sometimes, it comes first. The problem is when you try to socialize with others outside the team and off the battlefield. The One-Four-One are complete and total cockblocks. So overprotective that no man gets a chance to do more than make eyes at you or maybe say "hi" before a giant wall is sliding between you and that man, physically pushing them away if necessary.
When you first joined the team, they excitedly added you to their phone tracking plan. It allowed the team to track each other at any time while at home, just in case. It was very useful when your car broke down and they were able to come to your rescue within minutes instead of waiting hours for a tow. Now, though, it makes it impossible for you to sneak off or to try a different bar or a club.
A club. That was a disaster. You tried to go to a club to dance, figuring that the team would either brood over drinks at a table in a corner or find girls to dance with. No. They followed you like lost puppies, and the second a guy tried to dance with you, formed a ring around you like bodyguards. Opening your eyes and seeing a wall of brothers glaring at everyone around was embarrassing, to say the least.
After that, you sat them down as a group and told them they needed to stop the big brother act, because you desperately needed to burn off some energy. They nodded as though they understood. Then, they scheduled you for extra PT sessions. When you complained about that, they signed you up for yoga classes and water aerobics. You were excited for those, hoping that you'll find a guy looking to hook up. Only, when you walked into yoga, Ghost was there, laying out his mat next to yours, ignoring your glare with a smirk on his face. And water aerobics had Gaz climbing in the pool with you, telling you about his weekend plans and the newest gadget he picked up.
Hell, you even tried to schedule your own class when the rest of the team was busy in the hopes of meeting a man. Leaving your phone at home, you slipped away to a dance studio across town in a taxi. You saw Alejandro walk in at the last minute and shoved your way past him, stomping outside in frustration. He followed and offered a ride back to base with a lopsided grin, calling you mi Hermana, in case you forgot the team's consideration of you as a sister.
You tried to explain again, and they threw their hands up in frustration. They tried to help you burn off energy in a constructive way. No man would be good enough for you, anyway. They were just heading off the heartbreak. When you storm off in frustration, they shrug it off. No way they would let some idiot hurt you, even if you pouted over it.
Eventually, you decide that you'll have to secretly date someone on base. Maybe a friend's with benefits situation. Just as you make that decision, you look up, your eyes locking with a man's across the room. The look he directs your way makes a delicious shiver go down your spine. That'll do, you think with a smile back at him.
#cod#cod x reader#overprotective#brothers in arms#cod imagine#kyle gaz garrick#captain john price#simon ghost riley#alejandro vargas#fluff
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hi! i've been lurking around ur blog recently ^_^ can you please write arcane characters with an artist s/o? love your work!!
Thank you!!! Hereâs how these Arcane characters might react to having an artist S/O:
Jinx
Jinx loves chaos and creation, and she would be your most unpredictable muse. Sheâd bring you unconventional âsuppliesâ like crushed glass or smoke bombs, daring you to incorporate them into your work. Watching you paint or sketch calms her, though sheâll insist on adding her âsignatureâ to your piecesâusually a scribbled chaos symbol in the corner.
Vi
Viâs not great with art, but she adores that you are. Sheâll brag about your talent to anyone whoâll listen and keep little sketches you make for her in her jacket. Sometimes, sheâll sit with you while you work, quietly watching, amazed at how your hands move so skillfully.
Sevika
Sevika doesnât express it openly, but sheâs incredibly proud of your work. If you paint something for her, sheâll hang it in her room where only she can see it. She might even quietly commission something for herself just to support you.
Silco
Silco admires your discipline and vision. Heâll encourage you to explore darker or more abstract themes, believing art should challenge the viewer. If you ever paint him, heâd quietly display the piece in his private office, seeing it as a symbol of trust between you two.
Vander
Vander is endlessly supportive. Heâll make sure you have all the supplies you need and give you the best space in the Last Drop to display your work. Seeing you lost in your art makes his heart swellâheâll bring you tea or snacks, reminding you to take breaks.
Ekko
Ekko is super into your art, especially if itâs colorful and vibrant. Heâd ask if you could paint murals in the Firelightsâ hideout. He also loves creating alongside youâhe might even use your art as inspiration for his gadgets.
Jayce
Jayce admires creativity in all forms and will hype you up endlessly. Heâll gush over your talent to his colleagues and suggest displaying your work in Piltover galleries. If youâre working late, heâll keep you company, offering input (sometimes comically bad) on your pieces.
Viktor
Viktor sees art as a beautiful contrast to his scientific pursuits. He loves watching your process, often quietly sketching designs for his projects while you work. If you create anything inspired by him, heâd treasure it deeply, feeling undeserving of your attention.
Caitlyn
Caitlyn finds your art enchanting and loves the way it opens her eyes to new perspectives. Sheâll display your smaller works in her home and request that you paint something for her familyâs estate. Seeing you create relaxes her after stressful days.
Mel Medarda
Mel, an artist herself, deeply appreciates your work. Sheâll discuss technique and inspiration with you, pushing you to refine your skills. If you ever paint her, sheâll proudly showcase it in her collection, valuing your interpretation of her.
Ambessa Medarda
Ambessa is fascinated by your talent, seeing it as a strength in its own right. Sheâd admire your ability to focus and create something from nothing. If you gift her a piece, sheâd treat it like a treasure, secretly impressed by how youâve captured her likeness or spirit.
Maddie Nolen
Maddie is your biggest cheerleader, always hyping up your art and sharing it with friends. Sheâd love to help you plan exhibitions or turn your work into something practical like designs for clothing or posters.
Lest
Lest is incredibly curious about your art, she is prone to âaccidentallyâ brushing past your workspace. Sheâd marvel at your dedication and often sit quietly by your side, her tail flicking lazily, as you work on your latest masterpiece.
#arcane x reader#x reader#arcane imagine#arcane headcanon#character x reader#jinx arcane#arcane#jinx x reader#arcane vi#imagine#lest arcane#arcane caitlyn#jayce x reader#jayce arcane#jinx x you#arcane vander#vi arcane#viktor lol#viktor arcane#arcane ekko#maddie arcane#mel merdada#ambessa medarda#sevika imagine#arcane sevika#silco x reader#arcane silco
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Hi! I have a request! If you would like to do it...đ
Uhm, so what if y/n and Miguel are married for years and have kids but the Spider society doesn't know. And the shock on the Spider crew faces when they find out about Miguel's sweet side.
YESS I ABSOLUTELY LOVE THESE
(N/N) is nickname or whatever spider name you want to go by
âââââââââââââââââââââââââ
âWho are you?â
âââââââââââââââââââââââââ
By no means were you a strong spider. In your universe, you were the first test subject. You got minor powers of a spider. They werenât very prevalent so the lab tried another experiment, and that person became the true Spider-Man of the universe. You guys were close friends you ended up becoming their sidekick. People assumed there was a relationship, but actually your heart belong to someone else. That somebody was Miguel Oâ Hara.
You met Miguel when your partner had ran into the portal and you followed shortly after. Love at first sight might be a reach. You were definitely in love, Miguel was too⊠he just had to open up to it. He did. It took him a long time but he did.
However, just like him, nobody had any idea. They figured it was on sided, nothing special. So it stayed a secret between you and Miguel. In the span of 5 years, you and Miguel had gotten married, moved in together, had a kid and had another on the way. You never did much at Headquarters so you stayed home taking care of the kid while also staying healthy for your 2nd baby. You were sure nobody knew you existed in the new society, anybody that you had originally met never said much. Since nobody knew your relationship to Miguel, you were seen as a once in a while friend to chat with.
However one day you decided to take your 2 year old and plumped up self to see Miguel and meet new spiders. Not only that but Miguel left your home-made empanadas in the fridge. Your child knew he was spider-man, well as much as a two year old could comprehend. As you walked through the portal it felt like you were looking at an entire new place. You hadnât been in the Headquarters since the renovation, but luckily you remember seeing the layout blueprints on Miguelâs desk. You got stares, and every now and then a spider would come up to you and âcatch-upâ. They would ask why you were there, you would say âIâm here to see my husbandâ, and surprisingly they wouldnât think much of it. You figured most would assume it was your former partner (Miguel was deathly jealous of him). They said hello to your 2 year old and then would leave you on your mission.
Finally making your way to his office, you picked up your child and gently opened the door. He was standing by his computer screens while a small group of spiders seemed to be⊠harassing him.
âI think our mission went fine! It wasnât even a big mistake, nobody died. You can just say your hate me and move on, donât ban me from the cafeteriaâ. A teen with bleeding armpits(?) shouted at him. Another blonde spider laughed and smacked his arm
âMiguel wouldnât get rid of you, heâs running out of reliable peopleâ. You could hear Miguelâs grumbling from a mile away. A British man threw up a random gadget before catching it again (definitely not a toy).
âWell maybe if he wasnât so meanâ. Miguel snatched the gadget out of his hand before an old friend of yours caught eye. Peter B. Parker, with MayDay, ran over to you.
âOh my God itâs (n/n)! With a kid- two kids? Oh my god this is amazing, long time no see!â He gave you a big hug, playing little hand games with your child. You said hello to Mayday and put down your kid. They two of them already started running off (you were worried about Maydays powers but the place is full of spiders, what could go wrong?). In typical Peter fashion, he runs after the kids and plays with them. The rest of the teens stared, none of them knew who you were. Miguel stared at you across the room, his face softening.
As you walked over to him, you packed his cheek and handed him the empanadas. He gently grabbed your waist and smiled, before taking the empanadas and putting them on the table. You hear Peter gasp as he watches the scene from across the office.
âYou should be resting cariñoâ. You smiled and but a hand over your belly.
âItâs fine bubs, itâs a spider baby, theyâll come out just fineâ. He kisses your forehead and holds your hand over your belly.
It was eerily quiet in the room, you had almost forgot that the spiders were there. As you turned your head to look at them, it was pure shock from all, even Mayday was looking at you guys (although she didnât really understand why).
âItâs nice to meet you guys! You must be the crew I hear all about.â Peter almost fell off the ceiling, luckily catching himself and the kids (when did your kid get up there).
The teens immediately ran up to you as if you were an anomaly, âWho are you and how did you do that!â
âââââââââââââââââââââââââ
OKAY THIS WAS SUPER FUN TO BUILD UP TOO
I love doing like backgrounds and then boom the moment, especially for shorts like this. Let me know if you guys liked it, and thank you for the request!
âââââââââââââââââââââââââ
#atsv miguel#miguel#miguel o hara#miguel o'hara#miguel oâhara x you#miguel o#miguel spiderverse#miguel x reader#fluff#miguel o hara fluff#request#anonymous#anon ask#miguel spiderman#miguel 2099#miguel o'hara x reader#spiderman astv#spiderman atsv#spiderverse x reader#across the spiderverse#spiderman#spider
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Scarlet Trials
Wanda Maximoff x Spider-Man!Reader
You had it all. The loving witch turned wife. Two beautiful, amazing twin boys. A nice little home in Queens. It was the perfect life.
You and Wanda were just enjoying a nice little date day flying through the New York skyline. The boys were with their Uncle Wong, as you called him.
Wanda couldnât help but giggle, this life she had with you was absolutely perfect, the best kind of domestic bliss. You found a little nook hidden by the buildings and set up a little web hammock for you and your witch lover. She curled into your side, relaxing.
âBest lifeâ she whispered into your ear before topping it off with a kiss.
âOnly lifeâ you whispered back.
And then he appeared. Miguel OâHara the 2099 version of Spider-Man. He burst through a portal in front of you and Wanda, claws drawn.
You and Wanda quickly evaded him, his claws slashing through the web hammock.
âDetka!â Wanda screamed. Miguel went right for her. He wrapped her in an electrified webbing.
âWanda Maximoffâ he growled, âyou are under arrest for crimes against the Web of Life!â
âBack off Cyberpunk!â you screamed as you socked the muscular Spider-person right in the jaw. He stumbled only a little before immediately trying to slash at you.
Wanda broke free and fired off a couple bolts of her own. Boom! Miguel was only knocked back a few feet.
âWho are you? What do you want?!â Wanda growled.
âMy name is Miguel OâHara.â he answered back, âyour mere presence here is a threat to the multiverseâ
âBack off!â You shout, âyour little multiverse hypothesis has no proof!â
âProof?! You want proof?â O'Hara retorts, "I've seen universe fall to pieces with my own eyes because of the magic that little witch exudes every time she sends out a little blast!"
You and Wanda look to one another, resolute, standing together as one unified team. This was your home, your world, your family. No one was gonna ripped that from either of your hands.
"We won't let you take our home from us, Miguel," you replied, steeling yourself for the battle ahead. Wanda's hands began to shimmer with crimson energy as she prepared to unleash her powers, standing resolutely by your side.
You and Wanda charged at Miguel. He came at the two of you claws drawn and vampiric teeth bared.
The ensuing clash was a whirlwind of webs, magic, and futuristic tech. Miguel's agility and advanced gadgets made him a challenging adversary, but your teamwork with Wanda was unparalleled. As you dodged Miguel's attacks, you coordinated with Wanda, using her telekinetic abilities to create barriers and disarm the cybernetic Spider-Man. The fight raged on, but eventually it reached a stale mate, with buildings around you bearing the scars of the intense confrontation.
In a decisive moment, Wanda conjured an energy blast that momentarily disoriented Miguel. Seizing the opportunity, you ensnared him in a web cocoon, immobilizing him. "This isn't over," Miguel warned, his voice strained. "The multiverse is at stake." Wanda approached, her eyes glowing with determination. "We understand the stakes, but we'll find another way to protect it without destroying our home."
"There's always another way, O'Hara" you stated as you took your favorite witch's hand. He sliced thru the cocoon and pressed a few buttons on his wristwatch. A brilliant orange portal appeared behind him.
"Fine. But don't say I didn't warn you" Miguel intoned before jumping thru the portal, leaving your world for good.
You and Wanda swung home, Wong had long put the twins to sleep. You and your loving witch could only gaze at your sleeping boys with a sense of awe.
"Do you really think we weren't bound to meet?" Wanda asked you as she leaned her head against your shoulder.
"With how perfect we are for each other" you smiled, "and the amazing life that I have with you, I think we were made for one another. In every universe"
You gave her a kiss on the forehead. Your favorite witch couldn't help but giggle.
Tags: @lifespectator @konstantin609 @aloneodi @family-house-of-m @holiday-house-of-m @multi-fandom-enjoyer @moonpheus @iiconicsfan25 @iamnicodemus @deafeningsharkslimeempath @russianredassassin @revanshand @supercorpdanbeau @scarletquake-n7
#marvel#marvel imagine#marvel fluff#mcu#mcu imagine#mcu fandom#wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff x reader#scarlet webs#scarlet witch#spider man#spider man reader#spider reader#the scarlet witch
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How would the One Piece Straw Hat pirates interact with Yor Forger reader?
-It was a chance meeting, when you met Luffy the first time; you were going after a target, working as a bounty hunter, after you landed in this new and strange world, one you seemed to fit in with, with your raw strength.
-Your target ran into Luffy, knocking the take-out box he was eating out of his hands, sending it to the floor before you leapt over Luffy, dodging him as he was lamenting his food before he chased after the two of you.
-You leapt up, twirling in the air as if you were dancing as you took out your target. Luffy was sparkly eyed, âSo cool! You were amazing!!â you were panicking that you had been seen by him, remembering your old life where you had to leave no witnesses.
-It was like night and day with you, when you were on a job you were so icy, so serious, but you were so sweet to Luffy, offering to buy him another takeout, which made him cheer loudly before he asked you to join his crew, âWe need an assassin!â
-You were flattered, but you were grateful for his assistance in giving you more stable work and a home, and you instantly agreed.
-When you arrived on the ship, Sanji and Brook were both cheering loudly, seeing another beauty on board, and while a bit shy at first with them, you grew to like them, finding them amusing.
-Zoro could instantly tell that you were way stronger than you let on, as did Jinbei and Robin, as if they could sense your power, but as Usopp and Chopper reported, after they followed you, you were kind of an air head, trying to learn to cook alongside Nami and Sanji.
-Nami liked you, you had a vibe about you that was just soothing to her, you were intelligent but also a bit ditzy, you were a hard worker, and you never gave up.
-Franky thought you were interesting, as you were amazed by his inventions, Usoppâs as well, telling them how you came from another world, telling them about the gadget you remember seeing.
-When another pirate ship attacked, everyone was ready to go on the assault before Luffy beamed brightly, âY/N! Show us what you can do!â you were startled by his praise before you beamed brightly, pulling out your weapons with a bright smile, âIâll do my best!â
-You stepped up onto the ledge of the ship, inhaling deeply while the others were all watching, curious as to what you were able to do before you took off like a shot.
-Screams quickly filled the air as you shot around, your weapons catching the light here and there as you shot through the enemy crew, using your deadly precision.
-As you struck down the last one you leapt up, landing in a crouch position on your ship. Several of your crew members were wide-eyed and their jaws on the floor, stunned by your skills as you squeaked lightly, looking a bit embarrassed, âForgive me- Iâm not used to others watching!â
-Their loud cheer took you off guard, surprising you as Luffy and Chopper leapt into your arms, all of them praising you on how amazing you were. You couldnât help but smile, hugging them back- you were so happy to find such lovely people in this new world!!
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Miles 42 with a little sister who has telekinesis????
Miles 42! & Telekinetic! Younger Sister
Pairings: Miles 42! & Reader (platnoic)
Warnings: Fluff, Amazing older brother, cussing, slight angst, abit of blood
A/N: Uhm so I may or may not have given up at the end because I got tired at the end and Gave up !! Im so sorry I was so sleepy but I hope some of these were good enough for you (˶âĄâżâĄ) Pre Telekinesisâౚà§ËâĄË àŁȘ - Miles cared for his family it was obvious but he cared for Mama Rio and You more once Jeff died - Miles never told you he was the prowler and You never told him about having telekinesis - You aspired to be like Miles he helped your mother all the time even if you were 3 years younger then him you wanted to be like him strong, tough and caring so you would always work hard - In you city it was broken and horrible, crime syndicates all around flames, crumbling building, and crimes on the streets something you hated - Though you didn't expect you would have gotten telekenisis when you went through the rumble near the train station to see king pin standing over something... someone? but something stood by something tall that was wearing purple costume with a mask and clawed gauntlets with gadgets. His boots appear to be upgraded Jordan 1 shoes you paused confused 'Why the fuck would you wear badass things if your just gonna wear street shoes' you thought as you peaked through the rubble crawling over and looking up - Confused you reached out to touch the rubble to move it out the way to get a better view unaware there was a sharp needle hidden beneath - As you inadvertently pressed against it a pain shot through your hand and droplets of a mysterious purple liquid seeped into your skin as you yelped grasping your hand staring down at it chucking the needle away
- Kingpin spoke his gaze shifted towards you momentarily, the two of you exchanging a brief glance through the debris. In that instant, your eyes widened before you swiftly bolted away leaving him behind with puzzled thoughts before speaking deeply to the cyborg punk guy - "Follow them" - You were running fast and quick paced as you felt your heart in your ears as your lungs made you start heaving as adrenaline rushed through your vines - you quickly dodged and ran through the streets as the guy- or whatever the fuck it was chasing after you as you ran nothing else rushed into your mind but to Run run faster then you ever did before you just wanted to go home - A bright purple claw gauntlet suddenly illuminated as it lunged towards you - In a panic-stricken moment you instinctively reached out and grabbed a nearby pole flinging it at the man behind you behind you without hesitating - Adrenaline surged through your veins as you continued to shout in terror desperately searching for a means of escape. In a panicked state you raised your hands whipped any projectile you could find towards your assailant a bag of trash being chucked around -All the while the prowler leapt away and watched in surprise as you vanished into a horde of people - When you arrived home you couldn't help but run over to your mother hugging her as rio was confused patting your head as you sighed heading into your room as you didn't want to answer your mothers questions but just muttering a 'I just missed you' - You sighed plopping onto your bed annoyed as you sighed placing yourself under your bed covers before pausing checking the side of your bed for your heaphones before pausing letting out a slight 'huh' when not feeling them - You pursed your lips annoyed raising your hands up in annoyance when seeing your headphones on your desk as you paused "come here to meee" you whined raising your hand towards your headphones making a grabbing hand motion unaware that in a swift motion the item was in your hands as you paused
- You couldn't help but look over to one of your plushies on your floor raising your hand towards the plushie "come to meeeee" you repeated to yourself as you paused annoyed when seeing it not move before you froze when you saw it shake slightly when a light purple glow escaped your finger tips as you opened your palms more as it lifted up slightly from the floor as your mouth widened in shock and in awe before it was close to you it dropped to the floor fast - you stop and stared raising the headphone up in your hands before looking to the plushie on the floor confused slowly placing your headphones back around your neck for a moment - you couldn't help but paused staring at your palms looking up through your apartment window "I want to use these powers for good !! I'll protect my family I'll punish those who do wrong and will make the world right" - You trained yourself secretly but nearly kept getting caught by Miles who barged into your room as you would yell at your older brother in annoyance - How did it lead up to this? you made up a whole hero persona and would stop small crimes due to the fear of doing larger crimes but you didn't ind getting slight injuries you cared for these people - You came up with a name for yourself (Your superhero name) but for some reason others would call you 'Terrorkinetic' you didn't understand that at all you weren't scary at all!! not as scary as the guy who chased after you - You made it a mission the man who chased after you. You needed to find and put him to justice something you needed to do to protect those who you cared for and the people around you. -You didn't expect though when going to your older brother to ask for one of your sticker packets back for your sketch book to see him putting on a familiar mask that folded into covering his face as you froze quickly going back to your room freezing - Yet here you were in your stupid hero costume as you put on a black cape because you thought it looked awesome smiling proudly to yourself before failing to sneak out of your window as you shakily dropped to the side walk before quickly sneaking into the shadows of the alleyways running around to find any crime going on which was always - Here you were chasing after a theif who stole someone purse shouting at them to stop before seeing the male get chucked into the wall in the alleyway as you froze seeing a purple glowing eyes shine glancing at the theif a robotic voice speaking "You... hand over the files you owe kingpin" "YOU! put your hands u-up!" you shouted as the male snapped his head to you as your figure shook as you held out a baton - The guy who stole the lady's wallet pushed the prowler aka miles off as your eyes widened when miles quickly pushed the male to the ground as the theifs eys rolled to the back of his head knocked out as your eyes widened "A kid like you shouldn't be here" he stated walking towards you staring you down "I am- (Super hero name) and I will take you to justice" You shouted proudly yet your figure shook like a baby lamb as Miles eyebrows furrowed behind his mask noting down the familiar voice "Go Home" - "No! You have done wrong and I'll-" your figure was tied with a rope swiftly as you were placed ontop of a street lamp hanging there as you blinked confused behind your mask "EH>!?!" Miles is figure walked away back into the shadows picking the man he just knocked out up over his shoulder - While you shouted angrily "HEY COME BACK! I WILL BRING YOU TO JUSTICE!" even if he was your brother you watched him put on that outfit a bid to kingpin a man the whole family hated so why... why would he do that? work for him? didn't he despise him as much as she did... WARNING FOR BLOOD FOR THIS PART !!
- You couldn't help but stare at your trembling hands as the purple glow that normally emanated from them had faded somewhat leaving behind a metallic red color that seemed to stick to your skin. - Your body shook slightly as your mind raced with thoughts unsure of what had just happened. You had only wanted answers, but you had somehow gotten caught in the middle of something you knew nothing about. - Miles approached you in his Prowler outfit, his mask still firmly in place as he gently grasped your hands guiding you to the river to wash them. - You could hardly bring yourself to look at the scene before you the metallic scent of blood filling your senses and the once vibrantly colored flowers now marred by the stain of violence. - You hadn't meant for this to happen... this wasn't even suppose to happen but fear had overwhelmed you in that moment causing you to lash out with all of your strength using your powers without considering the consequences. - The man who had charged at Miles laid motionless on the ground crushed by the weight of various objects that had been hurled at him with such force. - Miles stopped scrubbing your hands and watched as the red from your skin flower down the river that carried it away by the current - He couldn't shake the question that plagued his mind how had you come to possess these powers..? He was planning to ask you once you got home but for now as the older brother he had to take care of you first Post Telekinesisâౚà§ËâĄË àŁȘ - Miles is initially shocked and worried about your use of your powers after finding out about them particularly since he didn't know you had them. - As your older brother you should trust him - He has a lot of questions about how you got them and how long you've been training and he stared at you deadpanned "That's just a shitty workout routine and training its shitty" as you gasped and started to yell at your older brother
- You eventually reveal that you only discovered your powers recently and that you've been practicing secretly and how he nearly walked in on you when you tried to train the best you could - Miles is surprised but relieved that you didn't keep it secret intentionally; he knows you well enough to know you wouldn't hide something like this from the family but you did anyway - when he tried to pull the family card you literally shouted at him how he was the prowler as he stared to the floor "I had to" "YOU DIDN'T HAVE TO DO SHIT MILES" you shouted angrily at him. - TIME FOR SOME POSITIVE ONES INSTEAD TO LIGHTEN UP THE MOOD!! - Miles would ask you to bring him something and when yoru THAT lazy you use your powers to hand it to him as he smacks you at the back of your head for using your powers - He would train you to use your powers with uncle aaron to get you to be able to help in some stuff when needed even though you strictly said its only for the good - Miles found it incredibly endearing how you would sometimes use your powers to play pranks on him such as making his hat float around until he grabbed it with a mock-angry expression or getting his jordans out of reach
- Miles liked to test the limits of your powers playfully seeing how far he could push you and your buttons - He once walked into your room to ask if you saw his sketchbook to see you holding it and speaking in rapid spanish as everything in your room floated like you were getting possessed... he did not even question you for the rest of the day
- he loves to steal your food expecting you to get up and physically take it back from him but instead you'd use your telekinesis to move it out of his reach or get it back as he just stares at you like you just killed someone
- During family game nights he always stares at you intensley since you use your powers to cheat always coming up with excuses like have no idea what your talking about" or saying "your just a sore loser" Miles would protest knowing exactly what you were doing but allowing it to happen anyway because seeing uncle aarons pissed off face was the best part of it all
reblogs + comments are appreciated âž(ïœĄË á” Ë )âžâĄ
©brights-place 2023 â do not repost on another platform, copy, translate or edit my works! if you fit my DNI list please don't interact
#spiderverse#miles morales#miles morales imagine#miles morales x reader#spiderman x reader#spiderman imagine#spiderman#itsv#earth 42 miles morales#itsv imagine#itsv x reader#spiderverse x reader#spiderverse imagine#spiderman atsv#marvel#marvel imagine#marvel x reader#aaron davis#miles g morales x reader#miles morales x sister!reader#prowler miles morales x reader#e 42 miles morales x reader#atsv x reader#atsv fanfiction#atsv miles#earth 42 miles morales x reader#earth 42 miles fluff#earth 42 miles morales x female reader#earth 42 miles morales x you#miles morales prowler
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More Mini Friends Appear - Miniformers (6)
đ” I'm a little busy these days.
------------------------------
The days were beginning to blend together in a routine, one that you had come to enjoy more than you thought possible. Every morning, Bumblebee would leave a note or greet you with his quiet beeps and small gestures, and every evening, the two of you would share stories, communicate through body language and simple notes, and settle into a comfortable silence. But nothing could have prepared you for what happened next.
One quiet evening, as you returned home from work, you were greeted by the usual hum of Bumblebeeâs soft, mechanical whirs as he worked on some tiny gadget on the coffee table. You gave him a wave and a quick hello, then went into the kitchen. As you made yourself dinner, you still glance at the coffee table every now and then. Bumblebee was nearby, per usual, working on a new pile of partsâhis small frame a bright yellow blur as he moved quickly from one thing to another. You smiled at his diligence, still amazed at how much he managed to accomplish, despite his size.
Then, as you finished up and started to carry your dishes to the sink, a flash of red caught your eye from the corner of the room. You froze, wondering if it was Bumblebee, but that was quickly proven wrong when you glanced over at the coffee table and saw the little yellow bot was still there. This wasnât the friendly yellow of Bumblebee; this figure was bright red with hints of orange, his frame sleeker and, if possible, even more agile-looking.
With the smallest clink of his joints, he zipped behind a stack of books on the coffee table and jump on the sofa in your living room. You blinked, startled, and set down your plate, heart pounding.
Slowly, you approached the table and peered over it, hoping to catch another glimpse. For a moment, there was nothing, just the dim glow of the room. But as your gaze settled, perched on the arm of your couch was another tiny figureâone youâd never seen before. He was red, yellow, and orange, with a bold flame decal on his chest and piercing blue optics that seemed to glint with excitement. This new mini bot looked up and gave you a mischievous grin, his optics flashing as he let out a confident beep, clearly pleased to be noticed.
You blinked, wondering if you were seeing things. âUh⊠Bumblebee? â you whispered, turning to look at the tiny bot, whose head snapped up at the sound of your voice. His optics flickered, the faintest hint of curiosity in his gaze as he tilted his head.
"Do you have⊠a friend?â you asked, voice barely above a whisper.
Bumblebee glanced up, then turned to see who you were looking at. He tilted his head, his optics brightening with what you could only describe as amusement. He gave an affirmative beep and waved the new bot over.
With a sudden hop, he jumped down from the couch, landing on the coffee table in a smooth, almost exaggerated flourish, like a performer taking center stage. He seemed eager to make a grand entrance, and you had to hold back a chuckle at his theatrical display. The little guy stood confidently, hands on his hips, his vibrant colors making him look like a miniature superhero.
You knelt down to get a closer look at him. âWell, hello there,â you said cautiously. âI⊠I didnât know Bumblebee had friends.â
The little red botâs optics sparkled, and he gave a proud salute, clearly pleased with your attention. He let out a series of confident beeps, his tone much bolder than Bumblebeeâs.
Bumblebee pointed to his friend and tapped a little note heâd prepared: Hot Rod.
You blinked, reading the note. âHot Rod, huh? Well, itâs nice to meet you, Hot Rod.â You smiled, feeling an odd mix of excitement and curiosity. Just when you thought youâd gotten used to Bumblebee, here was another little robot, one with an entirely different energy.
Hot Rod tilted his head and, with a mischievous glint in his optics, darted across the room, slipping past the other bots and making a beeline toward the kitchen. His tiny feet clicked against the floor.
As soon as the confusion passed, you rushed after him, unsure of whether to scold him or simply let him explore. But as you caught up with him, you saw something unexpected. Hot Rod was standing on a countertop, gazing up at the cabinet where you kept your snacks. His optics were wide with wonder as he reached up, tapping at the door, trying to figure out how to open it.
Bumblebeeâappeared behind you, with little voice beeped a gentle warning, as if to say, Donât disturb the humanâs stuff.
But Hot Rod was persistent. He jumped up and down, trying to climb the cabinet. At one point, he slipped, landing softly on the counter, letting out a tiny huff of frustration.
You couldnât help but laugh at his antics, the absurdity of the situation finally sinking in. This is a funny guy. You thought to yourself as you watched the interaction between the two tiny bots on the floor.
It wasnât long after Hot Rodâs grand debut that another unexpected encounter awaited you. One rainy afternoon, you are sitting lazily on the couch while scrolling through your phone, when you heard a faint clatter from the direction of the kitchen. Leaned up slightly to look into the kitchen, your first thought was Bumblebee, perhaps checking out the kitchen for more of the little battery packs youâd started leaving out for him. But as you tiptoed closer, you saw a new figure under the counterâa small, white and red bot, his back to you as he rummaged through your collection of tiny kitchen tools.
You blinked slowly, slightly confused by what you were witnessing. One more? This one didnât have the playful, dramatic presence of Hot Rod, nor Bumblebeeâs cheerful hum. His movements were careful, methodical, as he selected a small screwdriver youâd left lying nearby and examined it critically. The colors on his frameâwhite with red accentsâmade him look like some sort of mechanical medic.
You cleared your throat softly, not wanting to startle him but curious to see how heâd respond. The bot immediately froze, slowly turning to face you. His optics narrowed slightly, taking in your presence with a look of slight disapproval. This little guy looked at you with a mixture of suspicion and exasperation, like a parent reluctantly humoring a curious child.
"Um⊠hi there," you said carefully, offering a small wave. "I didnât mean to interrupt. Iâm just⊠trying to figure out what youâre all doing here." A slight hesitation crossed your face but then you softly asked. âAnd⊠who might you be?â
The bot didnât move at first. He just stood there, crossing his arms and giving you a steady, almost scrutinizing look. Then, with what seemed like a resigned sigh, he produced a tiny notepad and, with quick, precise movements, wrote something down. He held it up for you to read: Ratchet.
"Ratchet, huh?" you murmured, noting the serious look on his face. "Well, itâs nice to meet you, Ratchet."
He gave a single nod, as if reluctantly accepting your greeting, and then glanced at the tools on the floor. With a huff, he gathered them up, muttering to himself in beeps and tones that sounded like a quiet grumble. You couldnât help but smile at his attitudeâhe reminded you of someone in charge of keeping everything running smoothly.
"So⊠Iâm guessing youâre here to help too?" you asked, trying to meet his optics with an encouraging smile.
Ratchetâs optics softened just a fraction. With a resigned beep, he nodded, though he seemed a bit wary, as if preparing himself for the task of dealing with the unintentional chaos humans could cause. He moved closer, holding up the small screwdriver with a hint of irritation, clearly unimpressed by the state of your tools.
"I guess I donât have everything as organized as youâd like, huh?" you teased gently.
Ratchet let out a snort of electronic sounds, waving his hand dismissively as if to say, You donât even know the half of it. He gave you one last, pointed look, as if silently reminding you to take better care of your tools, before tucking the screwdriver under his arm and turning back to his work.
As you watched Ratchetâs back, you couldnât help but tilt your head, a foolish smile creeping onto your face. You felt oddly like a naughty child, caught in the act and now being quietly lectured by the stern yet dependable figure before you. His grumbles and occasional sharp glances your way only added to the feeling, and though you tried to stifle a laugh, you couldnât shake the warmth that filled you.
With Hot Rod and Ratchet now revealed, you couldnât help but feel curious about how many other mini bots might be hiding in your home. Every creak and shadow seemed like it might be another one of Bumblebeeâs friends. And soon enough, you met another.
Youâd been busy all morning, typing away at your laptop when a strange sound broke your concentrationâa soft, rhythmic hum, almost like... a song? You followed the sound to your bedroom, where you found a deep blue bot with silver accents and a visor over his optics, standing near your record player. He seemed mesmerized by the music, his posture relaxed as he tilted his head, listening intently.
You watched him for a moment, his posture surprisingly relaxed as he listened, his frame vibrating slightly with the low hum coming from his chest. There was a kind of tranquility in the way he stood there, absorbed in something so simple yet captivating.
Finally, you stepped into the room, careful not to make any sudden movements. âYou... like music?â you asked softly, keeping your voice low to avoid breaking the spell.
The little bot stopped in its tracks, tilting its head slightly in response.Your eyes met his visorâa striking red, unreadable and perfectly expressionless. Then, his visor flickered in acknowledgment, though he didnât look away from the record player. Instead, he raised one hand with careful precision, adjusting the volume ever so slightly, his motions delicate and precise.
Stepping closer, you found yourself smiling. âI had no idea anyone else here appreciated my old record player.â You glanced from the device to him. âOr my collection,â you added with a soft laugh, feeling a little sheepish.
He turned, his visor glowing as it finally met your gaze, and he tilted his head, his stare unreadable but undeniably intent. Slowly, he pointed to the record spinning on the player, and a low series of beeps escaped him, almost a mechanical harmony to the melody filling the room. You had the distinct impression he was... complimenting your choice.
You chuckled, feeling a strange thrill at the silent exchange. âThank you. Iâm glad someone here has good taste.â
He merely nodded, his gaze lingering on the record player as if he was storing each note, every rhythm, in some hidden part of his mind.
Sensing that this was his moment, you offered him a soft smile and slipped back out of the room, leaving him to his quiet world of sound.
It happened entirely by accident, as most things with these little bots seemed to go. You had just come home from a long day, and all you wanted was a snack before settling down. But when you walked into the kitchen, the last thing you expected was to find a tiny white and red figure struggling with a half-opened bag of chips on your counter.
At first, you didnât even realize he was one of Bumblebeeâs friends. All you saw were two small legs sticking out from inside the bag as it rustled around, the little intruder completely oblivious to your presence. You could hear a muffled series of frustrated beeps and grumblesâwhoever this was, he clearly wasnât happy about his snack-related struggles.
Biting back a laugh, you leaned on the counter, just watching as he battled the chips. Eventually, the small figure yanked himself free, wings tilted up in what looked like pure annoyance. He had a white and silver body with bold red and blue details, and as he emerged, brushing crumbs off himself with exaggerated dignity, he froze, optics widening as he finally noticed you standing there.
Caught red-handedâor maybe chip-handed?âhe gave a quick, startled glance at the bag, then at you, as if trying to decide which was more important: continuing his snack or explaining himself.
You couldnât help but burst out laughing, and the little bot immediately straightened up, puffing out his tiny chest. It was obvious he was trying to look dignified, but with crumbs dusting his wings and the faint hint of a blush in his optics, he just looked ridiculous. He folded his arms, attempting a stern glare, but it was about as effective as a kitten trying to look fierce.
âWell, who do we have here?â you asked, wiping a tear of laughter from your eye.
He seemed to hesitate, glancing at Bumblebeeâwho had peeked around the corner, clearly amusedâbefore giving you what you could only assume was his best impression of a noble introduction. He put a hand to his chest, wings flaring as he let out a haughty-sounding beep. The whole performance was so over-the-top that it only made you laugh harder.
âStarscream?â you repeated after Bumblebee flashed you a note with his name on it. âWell, itâs nice to meet you, Starscream. I didnât realize I had such a⊠distinguished guest in my kitchen.â
Starscream seemed to perk up at that, and his haughty stance returned in full force. He nodded, giving you a look that said heâd allow you to appreciate his presenceâdespite the circumstances. For a moment, he seemed almost regal, but that impression was quickly ruined as he tried to reach for another chip, only to slip on a stray crumb and nearly tumble over.
âCareful there,â you said, stifling a grin as he quickly recovered, looking offended, as if the floor itself had somehow insulted him. He turned his back on you, wings angled dramatically, clearly pretending he didnât careâbut you could still see him casting occasional glances back, as if checking to see if you were still watching his every move.
In that moment, any intimidation he might have tried to project melted away, replaced by a charm you hadnât expected. Starscream was clearly full of himself, but he was also clumsy, absurdly so. And as he finally managed to snatch another chip and march off with all the pomp he could muster, you had to admitâyou were a little charmed by the whole silly display.
Days turned into weeks, and gradually, you got to know each of Bumblebeeâs friends. Each one had a distinct personality, and it became almost a game, learning to read their little gestures and beeps.
Hot Rod was bold and daring, often trying to show off by performing tiny stunts around the house, much to Ratchetâs exasperation. Ratchet, in contrast, was the responsible one, always on hand to fix any mishaps caused by Hot Rodâs antics. You couldnât help but smile at the way heâd cross his tiny arms and give a disapproving shake of his head whenever Hot Rod did something reckless.
Uhm......... and that music botâSoundwave, quiet and enigmatic, often disappearing for hours, only to reappear next to your speakers or record player. He had a fondness for music, and you often found him listening intently to your playlists, his head tilting to the rhythm. You sometimes wondered what he thought of the human songs, but he was too reserved to share much about his thoughts.
Starscream, on the other hand, was an endless source of drama. He had a sarcastic, almost theatrical way of expressing himself, often rolling hisoptics or sighing dramatically when things didnât go his way. Still, there was a part of him that couldnât help but enjoy the chaos he stirred up, especially when it involved teasing you or Bumblebee.
And through it all, Bumblebee remained by your side, his cheerful beeps and endearing notes a constant presence in your life. Though you had never expected to share your home with a tiny army of robots, you found yourself enjoying their company more than you ever thought possible.
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It's kind of amazing that a horny game like Nikke actually included stuff like Cyberpsychosis. Nikkes going insane or committing suicide if they are reminded too much that they are actually full-conversion cyborgs. The reason why they don't have a lot of cool gadgets like built-in thrusters or weapons. And then you have someone like Snow White who replaced a large chunk of her body with enemy robot parts.
Nikke is this really cool thing to have Existing in the space, even if I don't play it anymore, because of how charmingly unbalanced it is as a whole, making the charming parts of it all the more apparent.
It's got barebones gameplay, the seams of which burst the moment you do high level content and realize there's not much it can do due to its limited concept. Combat rarely translates to whatever is going on in any story thematically, being thus gameplay being more of an abstraction. There is a gulf and an ocean of power between fellow characters of the same rarity, meaning a max rarity character might do absolutely fuck all while another one, with the same odds, might snap the game in two with ease. It's story is absolutely nothing to write home about. It's a setting that can be best described as "self-indulgent incel nice guy heaven", where your character is The Only One to be nice to all these poor second class citizen superpowered voluptuous supermodel living weapons with tits two times your head and asses big and heavy enough to easily crush cars. Everything jiggles. It's so insanely predatory with its flash sales after every little thing you do.
And yet, the basic story it tells, it tells well. It's fun. It's entertaining. It knows what it is, and it has fun with itself, but it doesn't throw all pretense, either. It walks the razor-edge thin line between having a goof and telling a story with emotional depth. What it doesn't have in complexity or originality, it makes up for in sheer moment-to-moment, with good scenes, with good execution of things we've already seen. The showdown with Modernia lives rent free in my mind, Commander loading the Vapaus round, as Modernia or Marian, no way of telling, begs them to put down the weapon, because she's already back to normal, Commander shooting, and Modernia catching it with her teeth, and then growling the most guttural threat with freshest purest fury: "You shot me. Your really shot me! Shikikan!" and then drilling Commander right through the chest. And everything that happens after in that scene. It's got interactions out the wazoo, both mundane and touching. It has music that goes from "background music that really works" to "handcrafted for the moment and the character in its excellence". I think it's because Nikke knows what it is, but doesn't reach the self-mockery rung of the ladder. It knows what it's doing, and it's still sincere about it, even if it dares have fun at its own expense sometimes.
So, with that on the table, the take on Cyberpsychosis present in Nikke is incredibly powerful as a narrative tool because it tells you just how much of a jury-rigged slapdash product Nikke are. They are not cutting edge technology, they are literally something they pumped out quick as can be while telling everyone in the world that's still alive that they are cutting edge technology. And all, all of the safeguards are ultimately subject to willpower and perspective. Some Nikke go insane if they are too machine-like. Snow White has basically rebuilt herself over and over hundreds of times in her forever war. Nikke cannot aim at humans, so Crow instead puts a steel plate on the ground and ricochets her bullets off of those to shoot Commander successfully. Aiming is something you do with your senses normally, right? Rose figured out that she can just wear a blindfold and convince herself that what she's slashing is not a human, but a Rapture, and that's how she disemboweled and killed her Commander. Just by not seeing and fervently believing.
It's really, really cool how they go about it.
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Can I request Carol Danvers x Reader. While the whole team is on a mission, Reader finds themselves in trouble. Carol swoops in a saves them. The team starts to harass R, which makes R have feelings of doubt toward their abilities and also not good enough for Carol. Angst and then you can end it however you see it. Thank you! If you donât like this request, please feel free to ignore.
My Voice of Reason
Warnings: Bullying of R by the team that's about it
Word count: 660
A/N: thank you for this request! I had a fun time with it~
âY/N! Come in! What's your status?â Cap shouted over the comms. Your head was reeling after being knocked back about 50ft. You had no voice left, you had been shouting, using your voice manipulation to subdue the enemies.Â
You had run out of throat spray to ease the pain and talking was something you couldn't even fathom.Â
âAnyone got eyes on Y/N?â Natasha called through the comms.
âI'll find her.â You heard Carol call through, and before you knew it, she was standing above you. âYou good, Echo?â The nickname that stuck with you for being able to mimic any sound. You were able to nod, point at your throat, and sign ânoâ. âCan you get up? Can you walk?â As Carol asked, another handful of Hydra goons came round, and without a second thought, Carol picked you up before unleashing an attack, knocking them out. âLet's get back to the QuinJet.â You nodded, gripping onto her, burying your face against her to hide the blush covering your cheeks.Â
The ride home had been full of whispers as if you couldn't hear them talking down. It was your voice that wasn't working, not your ears.
You felt Carol's strong hand on your shoulder. Looking over, she gave a soft smile. âAlmost home. We'll have to debrief, but you should grab some medicine first.â You gave a soft smile back and nodded.Â
âY/N do you have anything to say?â Tony remarked, all eyes on you.
âRan out of meds. Couldn't talk.â Your voice still hoarse.
âI am so sick of that excuse! You need to train more often and stay off missions. You're grounded.â Cap called across the table. You pulled your sleeves over your hands, picking at the skin around your nails. You couldn't look at any of them.Â
âI'm sorryâŠâ you spoke softly. Letting the âadultsâ talk even though you were 21 you were still the youngest besides Peter, but Tony kept him mostly off field.
A few hours later you'd been released from the debriefing, heading straight to your room. âFRIDAY. Soundproof.â
âSound proofing complete ms. Y/L/N.â As soon as it was soundproof, you let out a banshee scream in frustration. You yelled until your voice was just about gone again, âFuck them. I try so hardâŠTony has a stupid suit, Cap is a super soldier, Thor is a literal God!â You yelled. âIt's not fairâŠitsâŠâ you started crying which turned into uncontrollable sobbing.
âEcho? Are you in there?â You heard Carol knocked at your door. As you tried to gather yourself together real quick and told FRIDAY to stop the soundproofing.Â
âY-yeahâŠhereâŠâ you called out, spraying your throat.
âCan I come in?â Carol asked, making you hesitate for a moment before opening it and pulling her inside. âHey, you okay?â Carol cupped your cheeks, you tried looking away, anywhere, but at her. She was always so kind and caring towards you. âLook at me Y/N.â It caught you off guard, she never used your name ever since she learned your nickname so of course you looked at her. âDon't listen to those idiots. You're amazing and you're an amazing super hero. They have fancy gadgets and enhancements. You don't have those things. Sure your voice is a power and makes you an enhanced individual, but your power hurts you too. It isn't endless your body has limits and they need to understand that.âÂ
You felt your body shake at her words, trying to hold back your tears, but they end up falling as you're pulled against her. âShhhh I'm always on your side.â Carol pulled your face up gently before pulling you into a soft kiss making your heart soar as you kissed her back pushing up on your toes and wrapping your arms around her shoulders.Â
Through all of it, Carol was here with you, and so long as you had her by your side, anything the other members said didn't matter.
#ley speaks#ley requests#ley drabbles#ley writes#carol danvers x reader#carol danvers#carol danvers x female reader#captain marvel#captain marvel x reader#captain marvel x female reader
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Live a Little
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Dreamling, One Shot, Fluff, Smut, Angst, Friends to Lovers, 6500 words
Late entry for @mr-sadman's Dreamling Week 2024 (Day 1: Indulgence, First Time). Also for @dreamlingbingo (Square A3: Friends to Lovers)
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Summary: Dream needs to be convinced that heâs allowed to indulge, to want, to live. Hob shows him some of the little things that make life worthwhile: good friends, good wine, fancy chocolate, and amazing sex.
Rating: Explicit
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: The Sandman (TV 2022), The Sandman (Comics)
Relationships: Dream of the Endless | Morpheus/Hob Gadling
Additional Tags: Fluff, Smut, Angst, Friends to Lovers, Sexual Tension, Getting Together, First Time, First Kiss, Love Confessions, Oral Sex, Rimming, Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Face-Fucking, Under-negotiated Kink, Dream has bad blowjob etiquette but Hob is into it, not beta read
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âMake yourself at home, my friend,â Hob says, ushering his oldest and dearest friend into the sitting room. Dream nods soberly and heads for the sofa, while Hob turns back towards the hall. âBack in a tick. Iâve got a nice Pinot noir Iâve been saving that I think youâll like.â
Before his friend can launch into his whole âYou need not trouble yourself, I have no need for sustenance, blah blah blahâ spiel, Hob darts through the hall and into the bright, cluttered kitchen at the back of the flat. He uncorks the wine and crouches down to rummage through the cabinets, hauling aside dishes and cast iron pans that would almost certainly be considered antiques by now. He knows theyâre around here somewhereâŠ
âHa!â Hob makes a little noise of triumph as he retrieves the pair of dusty earthenware cups that heâd bought at an art fair a couple decades back. Theyâre handmade and painted in brilliant blues and greens, and the small bumps and imperfections on them remind him of the Border ware dishes he had owned back in the mid-16th century (minus the lead glaze, presumably).
Hob gives the cups a quick wash and dries them off before pouring the wine. Heâs learned the hard way that Dream is not a fan of glass drinkware these days. When his friend explained the reason for this sudden aversion, Hobâs heart had shattered like the brandy snifter that Dream had dropped minutes before. Afterwards, he had gone through and purged his flat of wine glasses, glass bowls, and anything else that even vaguely resembled the prison Dream had described. Not just for his friendâs sake, but for himself; he doesnât want that reminder eitherâthe thought of his dear stranger, trapped, alone⊠If Hob had knownâŠ
God, if only heâd knownâŠ
Anyway. The point is, heâs been sticking with coffee mugs since then. But he canât serve fine wine to the King of Dreams and Nightmares in a âShag of the Centuryâ mug, even if it does feel hilariously apropos, so itâs lucky he remembered these. The flatâs a bit of a mess as it is and he doesnât want to come across as too much of a slob.
Hob hadnât expected his old friend to drop by today. Well, to be honest, he never expects it, but heâs always thrilled to see him. Ever since they broke their centennial tradition with that first meeting at the New Inn, Dream has started visiting more frequently. At first it was brief, sporadic meetings at the pub, but he gradually started to come around more often, much to Hobâs delight. Heâs shown up a few times when Hob was leaving work, instigating a riot of gossip among Hobâs coworkers and sixth-formers alike. Sometimes he visits Hob while he dreams, which had destroyed Hobâs entire perception of reality the first time it happened and still never ceases to blow his mind.
Usually the two of them come up to Hobâs flat, ostensibly to watch a movie or so that Hob can show off whatever new gadget heâs acquired, but the truth is that he wants Dreamâs attention all to himself. Hob has always been a selfish, greedy man, and he canât help but covet this precious time spent together. One never knows if the next Will Shakespeare is lurking in the pub.
He can never predict exactly when his friend will show up, but these days it seems like hardly a week passes without seeing him. So itâs odd that this is the first time heâs been by in over a month. Hob had noticed right away that something was troubling him; Dream seems even more distant and shuttered than usual today, and so Hob had herded him upstairs the moment he walked through the door.
Heâs trying very hard not to be a mother hen, but in fairness the pub was starting to get crowded, and Hob knows that his friend is not fond of the noise. Heâs just being considerate, he tells himself. Yes, heâs missed him desperately these past few weeks, and yes, the worry that heâd been captured again has consistently been in the back of Hobâs mind. But he has to rein it in and play it cool, lest he trigger another incident like 1889. He knows how lucky he is, how spoiled heâs become, getting to see Dream so often after having gone a century (or more) between meetings. So he knows heâs being a bit silly, getting so antsy after only a month apart.
Still. He worries.
(Continue reading below or on ao3):
Hob returns to the sitting room, wine bottle in one hand and the two cups balanced precariously in the other. He stifles a gasp and nearly drops them when he sees his friend perched on the sofa, having evidently vanished his coat and shoes back to the Dreaming, leaving his feet and arms bare. Hob simultaneously feels like a prude and a pervert as he drinks in the rare sight of that flawless ivory skin.
Then his heart swells with fondnessâDream has actually attempted to make himself at home, like Hob offered. âAttemptedâ being the key word; he does rather look like heâs sitting in a waiting room instead of on his friendâs sofa. Like heâs not sure how comfortable heâs allowed to get. Hob wants to make him comfortable, wants to wrap him in soft blankets and feed him soup and make him understand how fiercely loved he is.
Steady on, Hobsie. Get a hold of yourself.
Dream looks up from the worn copy of The Hitchhikerâs Guide to the Galaxy heâs been thumbing through, and if Hob didnât know any better heâd say there was a faint blush blooming on his perfect cheekbones.
See, thatâs the elephant in the room: the ever-present sexual tension between them has been at an all-time high lately. Obviously, Hob fell in love with Dream the second he laid eyes on himâhow could he not?âand occasionally, over the centuries, heâs felt a spark of⊠something, from his stranger (that look heâd given him in 1789 being the most flagrant example). And heâs been feeling that something more and more often these days.
Maybe heâs just a lovesick, hope-stricken old fool, but Hob has a sneaking suspicion that his feelings for his friend are, at least to some small degree, reciprocated. Hob is sure as hell not going to make the first move; he cringes as he remembers how that had gone the last time he tried it. But itâs alright. He can be patient. He has been patient. And if nothing ever happens between them, well, thatâs alright too. This easy companionship that theyâve developed is more than Hob could have ever hoped for, and he considers himself a lucky man indeed.
At least thatâs what he tells himself.
âHere we are, my friend.â Hob hands one of the cups to Dreamâthe blue one that matches his eyesâand settles beside him on the sofa, stretching and making a point of putting his feet up on the coffee table to signal to his friend that heâs allowed to relax. And he does seem to get the hint, his shoulders easing down a fraction as he leans back into the cushions. âTo life,â Hob says, tilting his cup Dreamâs direction. Dream responds with a small, slightly pained smile and gently clinks his cup against Hobâs before taking a sip, humming appreciatively as he drinks.
âGood, eh?â Hob grins, thrilled that his friend is enjoying it.
âIndeed. This is a fine vintage. I thank you for sharing it with me,â Dream replies solemnly.
âI canât think of anyone better to share it with,â Hob says, perhaps a bit too earnestly, and Dreamâs blush deepens ever so slightly. âSo,â Hob clears his throat, âwhat have you been up to, my friend? Itâs been a while since I saw you last.â Dream stiffens at that, and Hob hastily adds, âIf you want to talk about it, that is. You donât have to.â
Dream takes another long sip of wine and shakes his head before speaking. âI was with family. I spent some time with my youngest sister, as well as some other relations. One whom I had not seen in centuries, and. Another. With whom I had not spoken in millennia.â
To Hobâs credit, his mind boggles only a little at that. âWell, thatâs nice, isnât it? Family reunion and all?â
Dream makes a small noiseâof agreement or skepticism, Hob couldnât sayâand looks away as he continues to drink his wine. Itâs obvious that something has happened; Dream seems⊠hopeless. Resigned. To what, Hob doesnât dare guess. Dream doesnât seem inclined to share more at the moment, and thereâs a beat of awkward silence as Hob fumbles through his mind for a new topic of conversation. Heâs mentally reviewing his day for any interesting stories to tell when he notices his friend staring at the small box wrapped in gold paper on the coffee table, seemingly lost in thought.
Hob springs forward and opens the box, nudging the chocolates in Dreamâs direction. âOh! Where are my manners? Help yourself to those. Some of my coworkers got them for my birthdayâwell, what they think is my birthday.â
Dream blinks at him. âI do not need to eat.â
Hob chuckles. âNobody needs to eat chocolate. Itâs purely for pleasure. You donât need to drink this very good wine either, but youâre enjoying it,â he points out, topping off both of their cups to underscore his argument. âAnd I bet these would go great with the Pinot.â He takes a vanilla cream-filled one for himself before pushing the box closer to Dream. âGo on, theyâre quite nice. Itâs the expensive stuff. I think that oneâs caramel, and thatâs a raspberry creamâŠâ
A tiny smile creeps over his friendâs face as he speaks. âMy sister is fond of those. Or. Something like them.â
Hob is immensely curious about these family members Dream keeps mentioning, but he doesnât want to pry; he knows by now that if Dream wants to share something with him, heâll do so in his own time. âWell, please, have as many as youâd like. Iâll never finish them all before they go stale, so youâd be doing me a favor.â
âI do not usually. Indulge,â Dream says, though he is still staring (longingly, one might almost say) at the cocoa-dusted confections.
âYou mean to tell me youâve got the entire Dreaming at your fingertips, and you donât indulge in all the lovely things youâve made? That, my friend, is a tragedy.â Hob smiles and shrugs. âWell, if you wonât indulge yourself, then why not indulge me? I wonât make you eat them, of course, butâŠâ he takes a bite of the bonbon (it really is good, even if itâs a bit too sweet for his taste), âyouâd be missing out.â
The gloom that had earlier enshrouded Dream seems all but dissipated, and Hob canât help but notice the way his friendâs eyes flick to his mouth, the starry voids of his pupils blown wide. Hob is considerably flustered himself right now, but he manages to give his friend what he hopes is a roguishly charming wink.
Dream glances down, his cheeks reddening further. âVery well. If you insist,â he says primly, like heâs doing Hob a favor as he delicately plucks a milk chocolate truffle from the box. And he is doing him a favor; Hob already counted it as a win that he was enjoying the wine, and this is just⊠well, the icing on the cake. Hmm, maybe he can get him to try cake next timeâŠ
Hob loses his train of thought as he watches his friend bite into the chocolate. Dreamâs eyes widen before fluttering shut, and the moan he lets out is downright sinful. Itâs enthralling. Hob is in trouble.
Dream keeps his eyes closed while he savors the confection, his tongue darting out to lick the powdered cacao from his petal-pink lips. He swallows audibly, his Adamâs apple bobbing, and Hob shivers as he envisionsâŠ
No. Now is not the time. Keep it together, old man. Hob shifts and crosses his legs, vainly attempting to ignore the heat pooling low in his belly and the subtle tightening of his trousers.
âThank you, my friend,â Dream murmurs, glancing demurely at Hob. âThey are. Nice. As you said.â
âOf course. Iâm glad you like them,â Hob beams. âHelp yourself to more. Anything I have, youâre welcome to,â he adds, gesturing vaguely around the flat.
Dream stares at him for a long moment, with a hunger in his eyes that brings to mind that look, the one heâd given him in 1789. Thereâs something else in his expression, though. Something sad. But before Hob can attempt to decipher it, Dream schools his features, once more a mask of emotionless detachment (except for the telltale flush that has now spread from his cheeks to his ears and neck).
Theyâre sitting quite close together on the sofa, Hob notices. Had he scooted over without realizing, or was that Dream? Thereâs no body heat, no familiar human scent coming from his friend, but Hob can feel a strange sort of energy emanating from himâsomething like static electricity. Like the heavy, expectant stillness that comes before a storm.
Dream slowly, hesitantly reaches for another piece, and as he leans forward their thighs brush together ever so faintly.
Hobâs breath hitches.
Although theyâve been meeting regularly for a couple years now, they have never so much as shaken hands. This is unprecedented.
Hob exhales shakily, and he canât hold back the embarrassing little noise that escapes him. He tries to disguise it as a cough, but Dream freezes and draws back suddenly as if heâs been bitten.
âItâs alright,â Hob says softly, almost a whisper, like his friend is some skittish wild beast who might flee at any second (actually, thatâs about the size of it). âHave another one.â
Dream shrinks back into the sofa, looking suddenly rueful. âI should not.â
Hob laughs nervously. âNow donât tell me youâre trying to watch your figure, because youâre alreadyâŠâ he splutters and trails off, tugging on his earlobe as a prickling heat creeps up the back of his neck.
Too much. Stupid. So bloody stupid, just shut up.
He hasnât had nearly enough wine for his mind to be so fuzzy and his mouth so loose. So why canât he get a grip?
"Itâs justâI mean,â he goes on, his treacherous mouth continuing to prattle on despite his brainâs feeble protests, âmy point is, itâs alright to indulge. You of all people deserve to indulge. And I offered, so⊠please. Take what you want. Youâre allowed to want things, Dream. And you deserve to have what you want. Andâand I know, you can conjure anything up out of dreams and stardust. But even so. I just⊠I want you to know that anything I have, anything I can offer, however trivial, itâs yours if you want it. And itâs just chocolate and wine, eh? So⊠why not live a little?â
Hob looks up, apparently done with his ramble, to find Dream staring at him, his head cocked in that adorable way of his. His lips are parted slightly and his eyes shine with unshed tears.
Oh, brilliant. Great fucking job, Hobsie. Just donât know when to quit, do you?
âHob,â his friend begins, his voice a deep rumble of distant thunder, more of a feeling than a sound. âYou are very generous. More so than is wise, and far more than I deserve. But I am afraid that your generosity may be. Misplaced. You say that I should âlive a little,â but. I am not⊠alive, in the way that you are. I do not live. I simply⊠am.â
Hob stares at him, dumbfounded, while his heart breaks into a thousand pieces. That⊠is the saddest fucking thing Hob has ever heard in the two-thirds of a millennium that heâs been alive. It all makes sense now. Thatâs why Dream has always been so interested in the mundane minutiae of his life. Heâs been living vicariously through Hob, and all the while heâs got no life of his own. Just⊠existing, not living, for billions of years, and on and on until the end of time.
But thatâs not true, is it? No. Hob rejects the entire premise. Dream may not be a living, breathing human, but heâs a person. And he does so have a life; heâs got a family. Heâs got friends. If nothing else, heâs got Hob. Heâs more than just his bloody function that heâs always going on about. Hob wants to grab him by the shoulders and shake him. Tell him that he can live, he must.
Hobâs mind is already racing with ideasâheâs going to have to up his game; they canât keep meeting at the pub or in Hobâs flat. Thereâs so much more out there to do and see. Maybe, instead of living vicariously through him, Hob can convince Dream to do some living with him. Not like that⊠Just. Bucket list-type stuff, even though neither of them can die. Although he doubts Dream would go for it; the mental image of his dear friend skydiving is as far-fetched as it is hilarious.
Of course, he doesnât dare say any of that. Heâs sure heâs already overstepped with that unhinged rant he just went on. He ought to quit while heâs ahead and drop the subject before he offends Dream. Still, itâs impossible not to notice the way Dream has been swaying closer to him over the course of this conversation. The way the air between them seems to crackle with electricity.
âNevertheless,â Dream continues, âI am grateful for your kindness. Thank you, my friend.â
"'Course,â Hob murmurs. âLike I said. Anything I can offer, itâs yours. So⊠what do you want?â
Dream falters for a moment and seems to be intensely focused on picking at a nonexistent loose thread on the hem of his t-shirt. âI⊠I must confess that I do not know what to say. When you ask me this. It is not in my nature to want; desire is the domain of my sibling. It is not within the purview of dreams. I do not live, nor do I want.â
âBullshit.â The word spills from Hobâs mouth before the thought even crystallizes in his mind. Dream looks stunned and a bit offended, though more confused than anything else. Heâs not getting up and storming out, though, so thatâs a good sign. Heâs frowning, but still watching Hob intently, like heâs curious as to how Hob will follow up that little outburst. Hob is curious where heâs going with this, too; apparently, sitting this close to Dream has caused his brain to short circuit, and now his mouth is running on autopilot.
Ah. Right. Better keep talking, then.
âIâm sorry,â he sighs. âI shouldnât have said that. But⊠I mean, obviously you wanted that chocolate. And you want to be here, or youâd have left already.â The furrow between Dreamâs brows deepens as Hob speaks, and he clenches his jaw tightly. Oh, for fuckâs sake, donât give him ideas. Dial it back, old man. âBut thatâs alright! Really, itâs fine! More than fine! IâI donât know about this sibling of yours, but⊠it just seems to me like you do want something, my friend. And whatever it is, if itâs in my power to give it to you, thatâs what I want. So⊠what do you want?â he asks again.
Dream hesitates, gazing at Hob with those fathomless blue eyes as he appears to genuinely consider the question. Heâs sitting so close that Hob can see his own reflection, blurry and distorted, mirrored in the glossy sheen of tears that rests on his friendâs dark lashes.
Finally, he seems to make up his mind. He swallows and leans closer still, his face mere inches away from Hobâs. Hob ceases breathing as a perfect, pale hand snakes upward at a glacial pace, coming to rest on his stubbled cheek. Itâs smooth and cool, and Hobâs eyes drift shut as he leans into the touch. Then, impossibly soft lips are brushing against his own, and Hob lets out a muffled sob as one hand flies to Dreamâs waist, the other gripping the back of his neck and pulling him closer.
Dreamâs tongue probes gingerly into Hobâs open mouth, and lightning sparkles behind his eyelids. His heartbeat is a rolling crash of thunder as the clouds finally breakâkissing Dream is like the first rain after centuries of drought; cool and sweet and refreshing and vital. Hob didnât realize how parched he had been for so long, how desolate the desert of his soul, until this. This perfect kiss. Itâs soft and slow and tastes like chocolate and red wine, and thisâthis may be what finally does Hob in after all these years.
Or it could just be that he hasnât taken a breath in almost a full minute.
He pulls back, gasping and panting as he rests his forehead against Dreamâs. Words fail himâa rare occurrence for Hobâand all he can do is grin stupidly at his friend.
âYou,â Dream answers finally. âI want you, Hob.â
Hob lets out a wet, trembling laugh. âYouâve got me, Dream,â Hob whispers. âYouâve always had me.â
Dream surges forward to kiss him again, bolder and more eager this time, and Hob allows himself get swept away in the deluge. He could stay like this for hoursâforever, evenâand a needy whine escapes him when Dream pulls away again and surveys him with a smoldering gaze.
âTake me to bed, Hob,â he purrs.
âOh, darling, absolutely,â Hob replies, scrambling up from the sofa and taking Dreamâs hand to lead him to the bedroom. Then he freezes, struck by a sudden thought. âEr, quick question first. Is this reallyâI mean, am I awake right now, orâŠ?â
Dreamâs red, kiss-swollen lips twist into a fond smirk. âYou are awake, Hob. But would it make any difference if you were not?â
âNo,â Hob chuckles. âNo, I sâpose it wouldnât.â
Minutes later, they are entangled on Hobâs unmade bed, exploring each other hungrily with hands and lips and tongues and teeth. Hob is naked from the waist up, Dream having torn his shirt from his body with a fierce, otherworldly strength that was so startlingly arousing that Hob canât even complain about the loss of his favorite button-down.
Dream sinks his delicate fingers into the thick pelt on Hobâs chest, humming approvingly into his mouth as he grinds against Hobâs thigh. Hob can feel his arousal through the soft fabric of his trousers, and he dips his hand beneath the waistband to squeeze the meager flesh of Dreamâs arse. Dream goes still and inhales a sharp breath that Hob knows he doesnât actually need.
âHey. You alright?â Hob asks, withdrawing his hand and soothing it over Dreamâs shoulder. âSorry. I should have asked first. I knowâafter what you went through⊠I get it. We donât have to keep going, love. Or we can, and you can keepââ
Dream cuts off his nervous babbling with a kiss. âI wish to continue. I trust you, Hob.â
Hob thinks he might explode from the affection that swells in him at those words. He beams at Dream and steals another quick, fervent kiss before peeling off his shirt.
âLook at you,â he breathes, drinking in the vision before himâDream is utterly flawless. A marble statue come to life with creamy-white skin and elegant collarbones that flow into lithe, graceful shoulders and lean, well-muscled arms. âYouâre so fucking beautiful I could cry, Dream,â Hob says raggedly as he runs his hands over smooth plane of Dreamâs chest, circling his thumbs reverently around the firm, pink buds of his nipples.
Dream sighs and closes his eyes as he arches into Hobâs caress, dragging his fingers through the wealth of hair on Hobâs chest and continuing downwards, tracing the narrow trail down to the waistband of his trousers and unbuttoning them with nimble fingers.
Hob quickly shuffles out of his trousers and pants, groaning as his erect cock springs free. Dreamâs eyes darken, the sky-blue of his irises nearly eclipsed by starry black as he (sweet Christ in heaven) licks his lips. âHob,â he rumbles, his voice even deeper and silkier than usual. âYou are. Exquisite.â
A laugh bubbles up from Hobâs throat unbidden. âSorry. Sorry, itâs justâhearing that from you is⊠I mean, I canât believe this is really happening, itâs likeââ
âHob,â Dream interrupts, raising his eyebrows and lifting his hips emphatically.
âRight. Sorry,â Hob says, bending down to unbutton Dreamâs jeans. But just as his hand brushes over the zipper, the trousers vanish, leaving Dream totally nude with Hobâs hand just millimeters away from his flushed, heavy prick. âSomeoneâs eager,â he smiles, taking him in hand and gently stroking the delicate, velvety flesh. âGods above, Dream, you have the most gorgeous cock Iâve ever seen.â
It really is lovelyâlong and slim and rosy, all wreathed in soft black curls. Even his balls are pretty; plump and pert and perfectly round. Hob wriggles down the bed and nuzzles into the hot, solid length, relishing the weight of it on his face. He licks from the base to the tip, laving his tongue over the leaking slit before mouthing his way back down to his balls, sucking on each of them in turn. Above him, Dream breathes heavily and lets out quiet little whimpers. Hob strokes his thighsâheâs so tense, his muscles taut as a bowstring beneath his silken skin.
âRelax, darling,â Hob says, placing a kiss to the bony jut of his pelvis. âIâve got you. Just let go and enjoy yourself.â He returns to his task of exploring Dreamâs cock with his tongue, and Dream takes a long, quivering breath, loosening a fraction as he exhales. Hob canât help but feel a bit smug at the knowledge that heâs gotten Dream so worked up heâs apparently forgotten he doesnât need to breathe. âThatâs it, love. Let me take care of you.â
He takes Dreamâs bollocks into his mouth again, then moves lower to give a tentative lick to his hole. Dream gasps and startles at that, and Hob hears a choked-off âah!â somewhere above his head.
Hmm, interesting.
Hob raises his head to see Dream looking down at him in wonder, mouth agape and eyes glazed. His cheeks are flushed a deep rose, and glistening drops of pre-cum decorate the alabaster plane of his abdomen. Hob smiles up at him, tracing a finger around the tight, twitching furl of muscle. âHas anyone ever touched you here before?â he murmurs.
âNo,â Dream replies in a trembling whisper.
âMay I?â Hob asks gently?
âPlease,â Dream sighs, and Hob nearly comes untouched on the spot.
He slides a pillow under Dreamâs hips and pushes his thighs upwards, gliding his hands along the smooth white flesh and trailing light kisses down to his spread arse cheeks. âGonna make you feel so good, love. Just promise youâll tell me to stop if I do anything you donât like, alright?â
He glances up to see Dream nodding frantically, his eyes wide and black and glittering. âYes. I trust you, Hob,â he says again.
Hob grins before diving in and licking a stripe from his entrance to his bollocks and back down, circling his tongue around the rim and nibbling at the tender pucker of milky skin. Dream moans and keens beautifully as Hob thoroughly slicks his hole with saliva, slurping and suckling and reveling in the sensation of Dreamâs hairless, baby-soft flesh against his cheeks and chin. He dips his tongue inside, and Dream wails while Hob hums and groans enthusiastically. Dream is hot inside, and he tastes of petrichor and electricity and something Hob canât identify but that he knows down to the very foundations of his soul (dreams, his mind supplies. He tastes like dreams).
âHob!â Dream gasps, his voice rough and rasping. âPleaseâpleaseâ!â
Hob works his tongue in deeper, then pulls back and jabs it in again and again, until Dream is mewling and sobbing and writhing in ecstasy. He thinks he doesnât want? I could teach him to want. Eat him out for hours until heâs sobbing and begging to come.
Just as the vision materializes in his head, Dream howls and clenches around Hobâs tongue. âYes! Yes, Hob, please please pleaseâI wantâahh!â
Hob has long suspected that his old friend could read his mind, and this all but confirms it. He shivers as he realizes the potential thereâthe possibilities are, well, endless. Hob withdraws his tongue and glances up, only to be met with the most beautiful sight heâs ever witnessed: Dream, red-faced and panting, his chest heaving, his lovely prick rock hard and leaking steadily against his porcelain stomach.
âLook at you. So bloody gorgeous,â Hob says hoarsely. âHow are you feeling, darling? Good?â Dream nods, and Hob smiles and nuzzles against the back of his thigh. âBe a dear and grab the lube? Itâs just in the top drawer there.â He tilts his head in the direction of the nightstand and Dream twists around to procure the half-empty pump bottle.
âIt is not necessary,â Dream mumbles once heâs remembered to catch his breath, though he nonetheless hands the bottle over. âYou cannot hurt me.â
âI know,â Hob replies lightly, shrugging one shoulder. âAll the same, Iâd prefer not to risk it. Indulge me.â
Dreamâs lip quirks and he huffs a tiny laugh before settling back onto the pillows, graciously allowing Hob to continue. Of course heâd be a pillow princess, Hob thinks fondly as he squirts a generous amount of lube onto his fingers, spreading it over Dreamâs puffy, fluttering hole. He works a finger inside slowly, and Dream makes the sweetest little noises as Hob strokes his tight, satiny walls and brings his other hand to Dreamâs throbbing cock. Dream moans and arches upward into his hand, sighing in relief as the tension begins to bleed from his body.
âThatâs it, darling. Youâre doing so well. Just let go,â Hob coos. He adds a second finger and finds Dreamâs prostate, brushing over it teasingly on every other thrust. âYou feel so bloody good inside. Would love to fuck you sometime. Want you to fuck me, too. I could ride that beautiful cock of yours all day. Would you like that, love?â
âYesâHobâanythingâplease!â Dream cries breathlessly, grinding down wantonly on Hobâs fingers.
âMm, weâll work up to that. Right now Iâd like to get my mouth on you, and youâre not going to last much longer, are you sweetheart?â
âI canââ Dream begins what would no doubt have been a devastating retort, but it tapers off into a high, quavering whine as Hob lowers his mouth to his cock, sinking down in a slow glide until he can feel the bulbous head in the back of his throat, trickling a warm rivulet of pre-come. He swallows, and Dreamâs hands fly to his hair, gripping tightly as he starts fucking furiously into Hobâs mouth. Hob groans and ruts his own aching cock against the mattress as he continues to pump his fingers in and out of Dreamâs slick, clutching entrance. Itâs raw and rough and animalistic, and Hob is more than happy to let Dream use him however he pleases right now; he might come just from this.
With no warning save for a guttural growl and a stutter of his hips, Dream comes down Hobâs throat in thick, hot spurts. He shudders and gasps, tugging roughly on Hobâs hair before abruptly going limp and boneless. Hob swallows down the last drops of spend and slowly pulls his mouth and fingers away, panting raggedly.
He crawls up the bed to wrap Dream in his arms, pressing gentle kisses to his neck and shoulders. âYou did so well, love,â Hob whispers proudly. âSo beautiful when you let go like that.â
Dream hums and grinds languidly against Hobâs still-hard prick where it rests between the cleft of his arse. He wriggles around in Hobâs hold and captures his mouth in a deep, desperate kiss. He trails his lips along Hobâs jaw, down his neck and chest, steadily traveling southward until he is face to face with Hobâs cock. Itâs a bit shorter than Dreamâs, albeit thicker, and darker-toned; not as pretty, in Hobâs opinion, though Dream would appear to disagreeâheâs practically got hearts in his eyes as he glides his cheek along the hefty, engorged length. He glances hesitantly up at Hob through his thick lashes, looking almost shy.
âYou donât have to, love,â Hob smiles down at him, running his fingers through Dreamâs downy, soot-dark hair. âI just wanted to make you feel good, is all.â
âIndeed?â Dream smirks. âI thought that you were teaching me to indulge. So. Wonât you indulge me?â
Hob lets out a delighted laugh. âWell, suppose I canât argue with that.â
Dream makes a noise of agreement, then swiftly takes Hobâs cock into his mouth, swallowing him to the root in the blink of an eye. Hob gasps at the sudden velvety warmth enveloping his prick, and his hips jerk involuntarily. Dream stills him with surprisingly strong hands, pinning him down and bobbing his head in quick, fluid motions. Dreamâs mouth is⊠fucking sublime. Christâs bloody wounds, heâs good at this. Hob brings his hands to Dreamâs hair, not pulling but stroking and kneading his scalp. Dream rumbles in approval, his deep moans vibrating through Hobâs cock, and Hob throws his head back against the pillows.
âNot gonna last,â he grunts in warning.
Dream only takes him deeper, hollowing out his cheeks and slurping hungrily as he bobs his head faster. Hob looks down to see Dream gazing up at him with a blissfully dazed expression, his forget-me-not blue eyes glassy and his cheeks streaked with tears. Hob is hit with a flash of deja vu; heâs fantasized about exactly this on many a lonely night over the centuries, though his imaginings never came close to the divine, earth-shattering perfection that is Dreamâs mouth. He comes with a choked sob, flooding Dreamâs mouth with a torrent of spend, and Dreamâs eyes flutter shut as he swallows it down eagerly.
âI love youâ!â The words escape unbidden in a breathless whisper, dragged forth from somewhere deep within the core of Hobâs being, unable to be contained any longer after being left unsaid for over 600 years. Hob doesnât realize what heâs said until Dream freezes, tightening his grasp on Hobâs hips and digging his sharp fingernails into his flesh. Then, heâs crawling up Hobâs body like a tiger pinning its prey, steely eyes boring straight into his soul.
Fuck. Of course, had to go and fuck it all up, didnât you?
âYou mean that,â Dream intones, low and sonorous. It is not a question.
âYes,â Hob replies softly, his voice wavering as he braces himself for the inevitable swirl of sand as Dream disappears.
Instead, Dream swoops down and captures Hobâs mouth in a savage, frenzied kiss, growling and digging his fingers possessively into Hobâs ribcage. He claims him with kisses and bites and scratches and bruises, descending on Hob like a starving man on a feast, and Hob is only too pleased to let Dream glut himself on him. Dream could devour him whole, if that would make him happy.
Once he has thoroughly left his mark, Dream runs his eyes over Hobâs body in apparent satisfaction before nestling into his side and draping himself over his chest. âI think,â Dream says, curling a tuft of chest hair around his long pale fingers, âthat I feel the same. About you.â He buries his face in Hobâs neck, and Hob pulls him into a crushing embrace, beaming as he plants a kiss to the top of his head.
âSo,â Hob laughs through joyous tears, âwould you still say youâre just existing? Because I think we did a lot of living today.â
Dream huffs into his shoulder. âYou make a convincing argument,â he concedes, his voice muffled. Then he raises his head to look at Hob, his eyes shining with amusement. âHowever, I believe I will need more evidence before I can draw an accurate conclusion.â
âOh, just you wait, darling,â Hob grins. âI happen to be an expert on living, and Iâm going to show you all the little things that make it worthwhile.â
Dreamâs smile fades slightly at that. Hob brings a hand to his cheek, tilting Dreamâs chin up and meeting him in a tender kiss. âHey,â he whispers. âDâyou want to tell me whatâs been going on? Itâs just⊠Clearly, somethingâs bothering you, love. And if thereâs any way I can help⊠You know Iâd do anything for you, Dream.â
âYou have helped. More than you realize. And⊠I will tell you what has happened. What I have done. Not today, but⊠I will tell you. Though you may come to hate me for it,â Dream sighs heavily.
âI could never hate you,â Hob replies automatically. Because itâs true; heâd fallen arse over teakettle for Dream when he thought he was the actual devil. âWhatever happened, weâll sort it out, eh?â
Dream simply stares at him for a long moment before speaking again. âWhat do you think happens to a character when their story has finished being told?â
âErââ Hob doesnât know what he was expecting Dream to say, but it certainly wasnât that. Dream has him fixed with a piercing gaze, obviously awaiting a well-thought-out answer. âWell⊠I guess thatâs up to the character do decide, isnât it? Once the story is over, theyâre free to do what they want, I suppose.â He shrugs. This discussion is far too deep for pillow talk.
Dream frowns, furrowing his brows as he considers. âI believe there is some merit to your words,â he pronounces thoughtfully. âI have long believed that I have no story of my own. Perhaps I am wrong.â
âMaybe youâre just in the wrong story,â Hob yawns. Heâs honestly lost the thread a bit by this point, and heâs not entirely sure what they were talking about to begin with. But that feels like the right thing to say, and Dream evidently agrees as he rests his cheek on Hobâs chest, just over his heart.
âPerhaps,â Dream murmurs, almost inaudibly.
âLike I said,â Hob says, stroking lightly down his back. âWeâll sort it out.â He yawns again, then winces at the strain on his sore jaw. âTomorrow, though. Because I am absolutely knackered, darling.â
Dream hums, burrowing contently into Hobâs hold. âYes. Sleep, beloved. And dream of me.â
Hob chuckles drowsily. âI always do.â
âšâšâš
Thanks for reading! Reblogs, as well as kudos and comments on ao3 are always appreciated! đđđ
#dreamling#dreamling fanfiction#dreamling bingo#dreamling week 2024#dreamling fanfic#dreamling fic#the sandman#sandman#sandman fanfic#dream of the endless#hob gadling#dream x hob#hob x dream#nsft#zoom writes
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real or not real â nagi seishiro x reader !
warnings. indecent language, ooc nagi.
tropes. meet-ugly, enemies to lovers.
you hate nagi seishiro.
he was stone cold, often referred to as socially awkwardâ but you feel like those were just excuses to make up for his rude and nasty behavior. personally, you think heâs overrated just because heâs considered a soccer genius. of course, no one ever believes you. they think your hatred clouds your judgement (it obviously does not).
you first met him when you were in grade school, deskmates for the first day of class. he was shorter than you at that time, but aside from his height, everything about him stayed the same. he still has the same gunmetal gray eyes thatâs either reflected with boredom or reflected by the screen of his gray nintendo gameboy. he still has the same white hair, as clean as the first drop of snow, but as wild as a lionâs mane.
to you, there was absolutely nothing about him thatâs fascinatingâ he was the same as any average boy. playing mobile games was his favorite past time, so much so that you believed that it was his lifeline at one point. or so youâd assume. he always kept to himself and was left to his own devices (quite literally), most things that kids enjoy donât seem to pique his interest. you guess those were the reasons why he didnât have many friends.
no, scratch thatâ he didnât have any friends.
at first you wondered why. if thereâs one thing you noticed about him even at a very young age, itâs that heâs handsome. he doesnât have to be the ârich kidâ with amazing gadgets and fancy toys, or the âcool kidâ who knows what right words to say and way to say it, but heâs nagi. he was conventionally attractive without even trying. however, that fact doesnât seem to make up for the fact that he looks lonely.
so, youâve devised a plan to talk to him.
âhey. sei-chan, wanna be my friend?â youâre everyoneâs friend. the sunshine child, the one who always lends her classmate crayons or pencils, the kid with pigtails who smile at strangers for no reason. youâre the kid that everyone loves, and if by some miracle, someone hates you (which has never happened and will never happen)â everyone would simply take your side. youâre loved by all.
if nagi was shocked by your sudden proposal, his features didnât show any signs of it. what he does is pause his current game and faces you. itâs the first time youâve ever stared at him eye-to-eye. your heart jumps.
uh oh. is this what they call a crush?
eyes filled with hope, you patiently waited for nagiâs response. you expected him to utter âsureâ wearing his usual monotone voice, but it doesnât come. and what he says instead ruins you. your heart does a somersault and tumbles, crashing onto the pavement and breaking into tiny, gliterring pieces. it did not feel good.
âno thanks. i despise people like you.â
youâre not sure what youâve done wrong at that very moment. maybe you were too blunt, too cheery, too whatever â just something too much to be able to upset someone like nagi seishiro, who doesnât feel strongly about anything or anyone. you didnât have the courage to ask him what youâve done wrong because your vision blurs. you always reckoned that it was due to anger, but your mother who saw you run home with tear-streaked cheeks says otherwise.
you still donât know how you managed to piss off nagi, even until your very first year of college. after grade school, you never saw him again. you heard he studied at some prestigious high school but that was the end of it, you never really asked because you had no interest whatsoever. you somehow managed to assure yourself that there was no way youâd ever cross paths with him once againâ so why is he here?
why, of all places, would he be your deskmate for your politics class?
at this point, you thought maybe the gods above despised you, too. did they hate you enough to not only be schoolmates, not only be classmates with this man, but to be deskmates? hate is the only logical explanation for this fucked-up coincidence. youâre not keen on fates or invisible strings so youâre sure this was just a punishment for you.
oh god. you hate it so much. you hate him so much.
without a word, you took the seat right next to him, taking the opportunity while heâs sound asleep. youâre not sure why he would take politics as his subject, because as far as you know about him, all he ever cares about is his mobile games. maybe soccer as well, but thatâs not exactly related to politics, either.
when the professor enters the class, you found no reason to wake him up. he could get screamed at for all you care, but there was no way youâd ever converse with him at your own accord. because the only way youâd ever survive sitting next to him for the whole semester is by not acknowledging him at all. you can do that. you can avoid talking or looking at him. heâs not that talkative (and heâs not even awake) to begin with.
until your plan crashes and burns.
he turns out to be your partner for a school projectâ a big one, at that. you considered going solo, but the whole point of the project is to make sure two people are working together. it was a community development kind of plan, so unless he works with you and you work with him, youâd be getting an F for your politics class. that, you canât have. even if it meant talking to him and enduring his presence.
he wakes up right after the class ended and you could barely contain your scoff. he sat through the whole 2 hour lecture just like that, does he have no care for his grades? doesnât matter. itâs none of your business if he fails, that simply means that you wonât see him much anymore (which is a win for you).
you sighed. he shouldâve been paired with someone else. why did it have to be you? why did it have to be your deskmate? and why did he have to be your deskmate? it was too much. how could you ever work with someone you hate? with someone who hates you?
youâre going to fail politics. youâre 100% sure of that. there was just no way that youâd ever accomplish this taskâ or you could beg your professor to let you switch partners. or you could ask your classmates to let you switch... but who would ever want someone as lazy as nagi to be their partner? fuck.
from the corner of your eye, you saw nagi yawn. it took all of you to swallow your pride whole and gulp it down to ever approach him, but itâs better than not trying. if you fail, at least you tried. even if it meant battling your inner demons.
so, clutching your bag straps tightly as if it would ever help, you turned to your sleepy deskmate. ânagi. it seems like weâre partners for the politics subject. iâm expecting youâd cooperate willingly so thatââ
âsorry,â he interrupts with half lidded eyes. âdo i know you?â
âyouâre going to rip your paper to shreds.â nagi commented from behind you, peering over your shoulder as you aggressively wrote on your notebook. you imagined the page to be nagiâs face as you cruelly stabbed it, not caring about your pen or your paperâs state. you cannot believe that for some reason, youâre still stuck with the snow white haired guy. youâve tried everything there is to get rid of him but nothing seemed to work.
âright,â your teeth could break with how hard you clenched your jaw. âwill you be free later?â
âoh. i have soccer training.â
of course he fucking has soccer training.
you gave him the strongest deadpan you could muster before exhaling a deep breath. once to calm yourself down, twice to clear your head and thrice in hopes of losing all of your lungsâ air so you could shrivel and die on the spot. nagi seems to be unaware of your thoughtsâ and even if he had understood your facial expression and body language, he simply did not care.
âiâll be free after, though.â he adds, as if youâd ever know that information if he hasnât uttered it. this at least gives you the sense that he might care about the group project, and that he wonât be a complete inconvenience.
âokay. letâs meet up at the coffee shop near school. will you be done at 8?â
âyeah. but,â he pauses. âi thought weâd just do the project at my place.â
âwho died and made you king?â you blurt out before you could think of a proper response. you wondered if youâd ever feel so strongly about a person the same way you did for nagi. he was driving you mad.
âwhat?â his clueless face almost made you feel guiltâ almost. but you ignored the sensation and frowned instead. the least you could do was give him a clearer sentence:
âthereâs no way iâd ever step a foot at your house.â
âitâs fine. no oneâs home anyway.â
âthatâs even worse.â
âhuh? oh. donât worry. youâre not my type.â
the conversations you somehow hold with nagi infuriates you. he has this way of making you feel like shit for some reason, and he does it with so much nonchalance youâd wonder if he insults everyone. but you know better and you know he definitely doesnât, because youâre the only one he treats like this. itâs the absolute worst.
what does he mean youâre not his type? were you not pretty enough? not tall enough? not skinny enough? not fair enough? not what? ever since grade school, youâve always thought that he sees you as someone âtoo muchâ and yet as he stands here with you, in an empty classroomâ you wondered how you could be âtoo muchâ and yet be ânot enoughâ at the same time.
and since when did you care about how he views you? since you were kids, apparently. because the words he would utter up until this day shatters you all the same. and you hate himâ so goddamn much. but beyond all that anger, thereâs grief. it doesnât subside even as you grabbed all your things and shoved 6â3 foot tall nagi aside.
for some reason, he shows up at the cafĂ© you mentioned at exactly 8 oâclock in the evening. you were typing away on your laptop, while a cup of caramel macchiato and a bunch of scattered papers littered your desk. you didnât expect him to come, and it wouldâve been better if he didnât. but somehow, heâs here and he looks a little apologetic.
âare you upset?â he asks. his sports bag slumped over his shoulder as he stands right next to you. thereâs an unoccupied seat in front but he doesnât take itâ at least, not yet. his whole, undivided attention was poured onto you and you alone. it makes you squirm in your seat, so you decided not to look up from your screen to greet him.
âno. take a seat.â
âyou look upset.â
âdo you want me to be upset?â
âno.â
âthen shut up.â
wordlessly, he takes the seat right in front of you and slouches. he looks battered and fatigued from practice, but he doesnât say a word to complain (to your absolute shock). you guessed that he walked straight from the field to the cafĂ© without even changing or taking a shower, because his clothes clung to him like a shirt a few sizes smaller.
âshouldnât you go change?â
âyeah. but i left my clean clothes at my apartment.â
fifteen minutes pass and you suddenly closed your laptop shut, eyes fixated on nagiâs gunmetal gray ones. he looks surprised from your sudden move, a look that you didnât expect to recognize due to how miniscule it was. you felt bad for him. the cafĂ© was getting too cold for comfort and all he wore was his jersey (one thatâs drenched with his sweat). if you stayed any longer, heâd probably catch a cold.
why you care, however, that was not a question you could currently answer.
âletâs just go to your place.â
despite his constant need to laze around, his place wasnât a complete messâ well, yes, there are (presumably dirty) clothes on the floor and used dishes on the sink, but youâve seen worse. you expected his apartment to be so much worse. it seems like heâs not a complete monkey to not understand basic hygiene and cleanliness.
your only problem is that nagi seems to be bored. you caught him dozing off the coffee table as you ramble about your politics project, and you donât even have to ask if he cares at allâ because heâs trying to hide his obvious distate and boredom. so, even though youâd rather proceed to do your work rather than humoring this 6 foot tall giant, you pipe up:
âwanna play a game?â
âwhat game? i donât like games that require effort.â
âitâs called real or not real. we take turns in guessing if the other personâs sentence is real or not real.â
âsounds like a pain.â he groans.
âyou know what truly is a pain?â you turned to look at him. âthis politics project. so take it or leave it. iâm kind enough to give you a break.â
âshouldnât we play a different game? a mobile game, maybe.â
âwhat about a wager, then? the winnerâs the boss.â
the game was a piece of cakeâ to you, at least. nagiâs an open book and itâs easy to read him. you explained that the mechanics goes like this: you take turns in giving very specific sentences about yourself, and the other party has to guess whether itâs real or not real. five wrong guesses means that the other person wins. so the only thing you have to do is to make sure that nagi loses first.
unfortunately, you were down to four mistakes while nagi only had one. the game wasnât going like how you imagined it would be. how were you supposed to know that nagi keeps a cactus as a pet? how were you supposed to know that he only figured out how to play soccer when he was in high school? how were you supposed to know that heâs got a picture of his crush under his study table? (you still had no idea who that crush is, and it quite literally shocked you). how were you supposed to know that someone like nagi seishiro, was capable of liking someone romantically?
on the other hand, out of the six sentences you threw at himâ he had only guessed wrong once. you donât know how heâs so good at this game, too. it was either he knew awfully a lot about you, or was really good at second guessing things. youâre pretty sure it was the former. how could he know a lot about you, when he doesnât even know your name?
âreal or not real: i hate you.â you stated. his nonchalance was putting you off, but youâre not sure if you were uneasy because of it or if you felt guilty for saying that sentence out loud. you told yourself you could just take it back and act as if itâs not real but nagi himself looked so convinced when he said:
âreal.â
he was right once again. but you didnât have enough time to dwell on the whole thing when his sentence comes.
âreal or not real: i want to kiss you right now.â
the silence was so loud it pierces your earsâ or maybe you have gone deaf with that sentence. youâre not sure of anything at the moment because it feels like your senses were slowly slipping from your own fingers. if nagi was joking, his face didnât show any signs of him laughing soon. but maybe you should know better, maybe he could joke like that with a straight face.
so you waited for a few minutes, for him to tell you that it was a jokeâ that itâs not part of the goddamn game because how could it be part of it? but nothing comes. his eyes were simply on you as he patiently awaits your answer. your make it or break it answer, at that. and it only dawns on you that this is real, this is his sentence and heâs expecting you to play. heâs expecting you to answer real or not real. because you were the one who proposed the game in the first place.
you wanted to scream and to run away, but you were rooted on the spot. time stood still and it froze you under nagiâs unblinking gunmetal gray eyes, as if the situationâs not bad at all. but this is a trick question, your rational mind says. he told you when you were younger that he despises people like you, asked you if he knows you upon meeting at your politics class, and told you that youâre not exactly his typeâ so thereâs no way heâd want to kiss you. right?
you meet his gaze. right, nagi?
against your better judgement to think it through, you suddenly blurted: âreal.â
his face doesnât shift and nor did the mood of the room. your heart was beating erratically as if youâre not facing the guy you clearly hated with a passion, but the silence ensues. you were screaming at yourself, why the fuck did you say real? were you out of your goddamned mind? were you crazy? the answerâs clearly not real!
nagi, however, only looks away. âhuh.â
âwhat?â
âi almost won. what a pity.â
âthe answerâs real?â
âyeah.â he tilts his head and answers as if you were stupid. as if you were the one whoâs weird and doesnât get whatâs happeningâ but maybe that really is the case. because youâre mind hasnât caught up yet. what does he mean the answerâs real? does that mean he wants to kiss you, right now? how is that possible after all the things he had said to you?
you laugh. not the quiet giggle or the chuckle you were accustomed to doing, but a belly laughâ one that could rival a hyenaâs. because this was funny. too funny. heâs definitely joking and youâve only figured out that now.
âokay, fine. you got me.â
âwhat do you mean?â
âthe joke. youâre so serious that i almost missed it.â
confusion marrs his face. âwhat joke?â
âabout the kiss.â
âi wasnât joking.â
âwell, iâd rather have you joking than for that sentence to be real.â
âyou hate me that much?â
he almost sounds hurt, but you knew better. how could he be hurt, out of all people? if thereâs anyone whoâs hurt, it would be you. how can he say all those hurtful things with so much nonchalance and tell you things like he wants to kiss you? how cruel must he be to toy with you like this? it was not funny. none of this was funny.
and it reminds you of your childhoodâ of your little crush on nagi that never seemed to go away. somehow, the little you screams that you should not fall for something like this. that it is easier to hate nagi than to love him. that it is easier to stand up from your seat, smile, and tell him: âyeah. i do.â
it has been a week. maybe two. or three? youâve lost count. youâve never visisted nagi again after the whole real or not real game, and you never saw him often because heâs been excused. something about soccer championship that you didnât bother listening to. besides, you liked the comfortable silence now that heâs not around.
your phone dings. and itâs from an unknown number. but somehow, you guessed it has something to do with nagi.
unknown
real or not real: iâm sorry
oh. thatâs right. the game technically hasnât finished yet because no one has won. you told yourself numerous time that you wonât reply to his message, but against your better judgement, you somehow still did.
you
real
when your class ended, nagi seishiro was right outside. he was panting and sweatyâ as if he ran just to get where you were. but this is nagi weâre talking about. thereâs no way heâd actually do something like that, despite his lingering look on you. whatâs that supposed to mean, anyway?
breathless, he speaks up to catch your attention. you were busy stuffing your books inside your locker, back against him as you completely ignored his presence. you did not say hi. you did not meet his gaze. but even without direct contact, your heart was drumming against your rib just by knowing that heâs near. what the heck.
âwe won the game.â
thereâs a lot of responses that entered your mind at that very moment. entry #1, who asked? entry #2, who cares? entry #3, why are you telling me this? and the list goes on. youâre pretty sure none of them were positiveâ but this was all so confusing. why was nagi chasing after you like a lost puppy who lost its mom? whatâs he going for here?
âthatâs good for you.â you slammed your locker shut and walked away. nagi eventually follows after you, as if thereâs something in his throat that he wants to let out, but you didnât give him the chance to. youâre sure nothing that would come out of his mouth is good. youâre sure heâs running after you because of the politics project, or because he wants to annoy you.
and you hate it. you hate him. your gut twists at the thought of him running after you like this is some shoujo manga and thatâs the annoying part. how is your heart flipping with your every waking step if you hate him so much? youâre supposed to hate nagi, god fucking damn it.
you finally stop in your tracks, whipping around to face the 6 foot tall soccer player. to get it all over with.
âis there something you need to tell me?â
âwe havenât finished the game.â
âi donât care about the game. leave me alone.â
âitâs your turn. your real or not real.â
this was stupid no matter what angle you look at it. it was just some game you made up and decided to try with nagi. it didnât mean anything to you because all you wanted by then was to get his attention, so why did it matter so much to him? you donât get it. youâre not sure how nagi circuits because everything he does confuses you. and before you know it, your irrational side takes over. reason left your body when you blurted the words:
âstop it. fucking stop this.â
why are you so persistent?
âwas it fun to toy with me? was it fun when you told me you despised me when we were kids? was it fun when you told me i was not your type? i donât fucking get it.â
you were angry. mad. seething. your blood boiled underneath your skin and you feared that it would leave your whole being in nothing but dust. through it all, youâre also confused. perplexed. lost. your mind canât understand the fine line between hate and love anymore. your feelings overlap with each other and mergesâ youâre not sure what youâre feeling now. youâve wondered how long youâve buried this string of emotions youâve had for nagi. that would explain why youâre nothing but a ticking time bomb now.
âif my playing with my feelings give you so much funâ then do it elsewhere. i have no time for things like this, nagi.â
âbut iâm not playing, though. iâve liked you for quite awhile now.â
excuse me?
âoops. i accidentally gave the answer to my next sentence. what a pain,â he scratches the nape of his nexk and looks away.
how the fuck am i supposed to respond to that?
âdo you expect me to believe you?â
âiâve got no reason to lie,â he shrugs. âplus, lyingâs a pain. i donât like it.â
âbutâ what you said back then...â
âi, well. i go blank when i talk to you. i guess. my stomach flips when youâre around and my throat goes dry.â nagi doesnât look at you once while he utters this. tinge of red coats the tip of his ears and this is where you think âthis is itâ. heâs not lying. this is real, and you know that muchâ nagi never looked nervous until now. you think maybe that explains why he would avoid your gaze and why he would say the most confusing things. you think maybe this is nagi. the socially awkward nagi. the one who canât talk to people properly nagi.
âiâve always thought you were pretty. i despise pretty things because it makes me feel things. itâs a pain.â he mumbles. âof course i know you. of course i know your name. but itâs the first thing i thought to say because your face was too close. youâre prettier up close.â
he should stop talking. he should drop it all together and just kiss you, but you could never say these words because you havenât wrapped your head around the whole thing yet. nagi likes you. nagi thinks youâre pretty. nagi short circuits when youâre around. nagi thinks youâre pretty. nagiâs actually confessing. nagi likes you. he thinks youâre pretty. he likes you.
âi donât like pretty things. thatâs not my type at all. but reo said i might be in love with you.â he finally turns to look at you and tilts his head. your face burnsâ and you swore it was because of the remnants of your anger, but everyone else could tell that it was not. your heart does a somersault, but this time it does not drop. it stays in the air, lingering like nagiâs perfume scent, until he carefully waits for it to land on his palms when he said: âi think heâs right. iâm in love with you.â
for the duration of your game with nagi and with all the truths shared between the both of youâ this is probably the most real out of them. this is the only time he doesnât ask the question âreal or not realâ because his face says it all. his face says that itâs the real and raw truth. his face says that you must believe this because heâs not making it up. it was the first time you could read his expression. it was the first time that youâre not confused by nagi.
âfucking dumbass,â you comment. âthatâs not how it works.â
you reach over to grab his collar, on your highest tip-toes because of his height. youâre pretty sure youâre the only ones present in the secluded corridor but the clamors of your heart makes an illusion of people cheering for you. somewhere in the parallel worlds of your universe, you think maybe those cheers exist. it only silences when you pulled nagi down with you, whispering:
âi hope you still want to kiss me, then.â
when he closes in the gap between the both of you, his answer was loud and clear.
i do. always.
notes. YES YES YES i finally finished this long ass fic! iâve been writing it since forever & im just SO glad i finally get to finish it đ„č as u can see, there is nothing on my mind rn but nagi seishiro. heâs literally living in my head rent-free and iâm not complaining. i love him too much. i hope u enjoyed this âŒïž as always, likes & reblogs are appreciated <3 thank you so so much for ur patience & love for this blog â€ïž
ÖŽ àŁȘđ€ masterlist !
#kaeâs đ#bllk#kaeâs writing . . .#bllk scenarios#bllk x y/n#blue lock x reader#blue lock x you#bllk x reader#bllk x you#blue lock x y/n#nagi seishiro x reader#nagi seishiro x you#nagi seishiro x y/n#bllk nagi#nagi seishiro#nagi seishiro scenarios#nagi x you#blue lock nagi#nagi x reader#nagi x y/n
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what about reader comes home with an entirely different hair colour (for arcane characters) đđ
This is such a fun idea! This is how each character would react if the reader came home with a completely new hair color:
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Jinx
Jinx would flip when she sees you walk through the door with a new hair color. Sheâd be so hyper about it, her eyes wide with excitement as she zooms over to inspect your hair, her mind racing with a thousand chaotic thoughts.
âWhat is this?! This is amazing!!â Jinx would say, bouncing around you in circles. âYou look like a whole new person, and I love it! What do we call this color? I need it for one of my bombs!â
Sheâd spend the next few hours trying to match your new hair color to all her gadgets, constantly admiring you with a gleeful grin. âIâm jealous! Look at you! This is gonna drive everyone crazy!â
Vi
Vi would blink in surprise when she first sees you, not sure if sheâs seeing things. Sheâd run a hand through her own hair and chuckle, making her way toward you.
âWhoa, thatâs⊠bold. I like it though. You look good, real good,â sheâd say, stepping closer to get a better look. âMakes you look even fiercer. But, uh, howâs the new color feel? You feel different?â
Vi would be all about how confident you are in your new look. She might even ask if she can try it out for fun next time, because sheâs feeling inspired by your boldness.
Sevika
Sevika would give you a slow, assessing look when you walk in. She wouldnât be the type to show too much excitement, but thereâs a clear flicker of approval in her eyes.
âYou always look good,â sheâd say, her voice low but full of admiration. âBut Iâll admit, thatâs a bit unexpected. I like it. Definitely makes a statement.â
Sevika would then casually run a hand through her own hair and add, âJust make sure you donât draw too much attention. People might get the wrong idea.â But underneath that protective edge, sheâd secretly love how you stand out.
Silco
Silco is all about control, so when he sees your new hair, his first instinct is to process the change. He might pause, his gaze scanning you with that sharp, intense focus. After a beat, heâd give you a small, approving nod.
âBold choice,â heâd say, his tone smooth. âI do enjoy someone who isnât afraid to stand out.â
Heâd approach you, placing a hand on your shoulder, and murmur, âJust make sure it doesnât draw unnecessary attention. But with you⊠I trust itâs all part of your plan.â Silco would be fascinated by how much confidence you exude with your new look.
Vander
Vander would blink a couple of times, surprised by the drastic change. But after a few moments, his face would break into a soft smile, his heart swelling with pride.
âYouâre always beautiful, no matter the color,â heâd say gently, stepping closer to admire you. âBut Iâve gotta admit, this is a change I wasnât expecting. Looks like youâre embracing your individuality.â
Vander would reach out and brush a strand of your new hair behind your ear, clearly fond of how you embrace your own unique style.
Ekko
Ekko would be caught off guard at first, eyes widening when he sees you walk in with an entirely different hair color. Then heâd break into an awed smile, his usual cool demeanor slipping for a second.
âWhoa, you look like you just stepped out of a dream!â heâd exclaim, stepping closer to you. âSeriously, howâd you pull that off? You look amazing!â
Ekko would spend the next few minutes asking you about the process and maybe even trying to figure out how he could pull off a new look too. âI gotta admit, you look even more like a legend now. How do you keep doing this?â
Jayce
Jayce might not be overly emotional about it at first, but the moment he sees your new hair color, his eyes brighten with admiration.
âThatâs⊠different. But in a good way!â Jayce would say, his voice full of genuine curiosity. âYou pull it off really well. Makes you stand out even more. You were already striking, but now?â
Heâd take a step closer, maybe even run a hand through your hair, and add, âDefinitely suits you. Youâre always full of surprises.â
Viktor
Viktor would tilt his head in curiosity when he first sees you, clearly intrigued by the change. Heâs used to seeing things in a different light, so this new look would be something that fascinates him.
âAn interesting choice, but you wear it well,â Viktor would say, adjusting his glasses. âIt suits your personalityâbold, unconventional⊠yet undeniably you.â
Viktor would be a bit shy about touching your hair, but heâd eventually run his fingers through it, intrigued by the softness and the new feel. âIâd love to study how youâre able to make such a striking change with ease. Youâve always been captivating.â
Caitlyn
Caitlyn would smile warmly when she sees you with your new hair color. She would love how bold you are in expressing yourself, and sheâd find herself admiring you even more.
âI think it looks perfect on you,â sheâd say, reaching out to touch a strand of your hair. âItâs not the color that makes you stunning, itâs your confidence. But this color? It just adds to your already unique beauty.â
Caitlyn would definitely want to show you off to others, completely unafraid of how people might stare. Sheâd be proud to be with someone so brave and unapologetically themselves.
Mel Medarda
Mel would be intrigued and impressed by your new look. She values elegance and power, and she can immediately see how this new hair color is a reflection of your strength.
âIt suits you,â sheâd say, her voice cool but sincere. âItâs a striking choice. I must admit, I didnât expect this from you, but it works.â
Mel would be the type to get up close, fingers gently brushing through your hair as she admires the way it complements your features. âNo matter what color it is, you will always stand out. Thatâs one thing I admire about you.â
Ambessa Medarda
Ambessa would take one look at you and nod with approval, clearly impressed by your boldness. She doesnât show much surprise but is clearly fond of how youâre unafraid to push boundaries.
âYouâve got a way of making any change look like itâs meant to be,â Ambessa would say, crossing her arms and surveying you with a calculated gaze. âI see the power in this choice. It suits you.â
Sheâd be less overtly affectionate, but sheâd definitely respect the confidence you exude with your new look. Ambessa would also see it as another sign of your strength.
Maddie Nolen
Maddie would gasp in delight when she first sees you, her eyes lighting up with excitement. âThatâs⊠itâs so you!â sheâd say, grinning as she walks over to you. âItâs like you were made for this color.â
Sheâd give you a big hug, absolutely thrilled about your bold choice. âHonestly, I couldnât imagine you with anything else now! You look amazing!â
Maddie would be the type to gush over your hair, constantly asking to touch it and comment on how perfect it looks on you. Sheâs just so in awe of your confidence and beauty.
Lest
Lest wouldnât be the type to make a big deal out of it, but sheâd immediately notice the change and give you a slow, appreciative nod.
âYouâre a woman of mystery, arenât you?â Lest would smirk, her tone playful. âIt suits you. I like how you make everything look effortless.â
Sheâd get up close, lightly brushing a lock of your hair behind your ear. âNo matter what you do, you always manage to catch my attention. You look even more stunning now.â
#x reader#arcane x reader#character x reader#imagine#arcane imagine#headcannons#arcane#arcane headcanon#jinx arcane#jinx x reader#arcane ekko#arcane vi#ekko arcane#arcane jayce#arcane caitlyn#vi arcane#arcane silco#arcane sevika#victor arcane#arcane vander#lest arcane#maddie arcane#ambessa medarda#mel medarda#use me pls
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A travel essential
In which reader buys Spencer a Kindle.
notes: hi! this is my first time writing something for spencer and also my first time posting here. this is just a little blurb, i thought a couple of days ago, and decided to make something off of it.
fem!reader, fluff
Spencer Reid was not a fan of modern gadgets. He cherished the feel of paper between his fingers, especially when it came to his beloved books.
Y/n approached Spencer with a carefully wrapped package. "Spencer, I got you something," she said with a smile.
Spencer eyed the package suspiciously. "What is it?" he asked, his curiosity piqued.
"Listen, you probably aren't gonna like it at first, but open it with an open mind, ok?" You replied, excitement barely contained.
Reluctantly, Spencer tore off the wrapping paper to reveal a sleek Kindle nestled inside. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "What's this for?" he asked, clearly puzzled.
"It's a Kindle," explained, her enthusiasm evident. "I thought it might make your life easier. You can carry all your books with you without the weight, and I know you don't like technology, but this is a pretty fun thing to have when you're away on cases."
Spencer's expression softened as he examined the device in his hands. "But I like reading physical books," he protested.
"I know," Reader said gently, "but just try it! I know Hotch says you can only bring like two or three books but this isn't even two hours worth of reading for you, right?! So I just thought I'd buy you this so you can have access to however many books you want while on the plane back home or when you can't sleep in the hotel beds."
Spencer hesitated, torn between his love for tradition and the practicality of Y/N's suggestion. Finally, he sighed and nodded. "Okay, I'll give it a try."
Y/N had a big smile on her face, delighted that Spencer had agreed to at least give the Kindle a chance. "Great! Let me show you how to use it if you want."
She logged on to his Kindle and explained KU to him, he was reluctant but amazed about the varieties of books he could easily access.
Spencer still carries at least two hard copies of books with him every time he's away, but he also carries his Kindle in a Halloween-themed case you bought him.
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