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imagine-you · 2 months ago

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Think I Only Want You Under My Mistletoe [Logan/Reader]

Summary: In which you need a fake date to your parent's Christmas party, Logan volunteers, and you realize that maybe your unrequited crush isn't so unrequited after all. May include: Fake Dating, Real Feelings, Meddlesome Friends, Terrible Parents, and Mistletoe. Word Count: 5.5k Author's Notes: Part of my In Another Life, Perhaps 'verse. In which they're stuck in a Hallmark Movie Universe??? Either way, Merry Christmas, y'all! 🎄

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"Ugh," you groaned, letting your face fall into your hands. You figured it was better than hitting your head against the table in the hopes that your situation would suddenly change.

"What's wrong?" Ororo asked, studying you across the break room table.

“My whole life,” you grumbled, knowing you were being childish, but glad that none of your students were around to see it.

You had managed to get a brief moment of respite from the teenagers roaming the halls of the X-Mansion by retreating to the makeshift teacher's lounge located in a room tucked away near the kitchen. All of you had worked to make it your own space.

Hank had lugged in a refrigerator and at some point a microwave had shown up on someone's repurposed nightstand. Charles had offered to pay for whatever the staff might have wanted, but all of you seemed to want to fill the room with personal touches and effects. So, someone had dragged in an old table that must have been stored in the attic and other people stole desk chairs from unoccupied rooms. Over time, a coffeemaker had been added along with a small cabinet full of snacks. There were also photos along the wall, candid and professional shots of the staff.

Your favorite was a group shot where most of you were making a goofy face. Your eyes were always drawn to Remy doing bunny ears behind Logan’s head and Logan in the middle of snarling at Remy to cut it out, but there was just the tiniest bit of a grin peeking at the edges of Logan’s mouth.

He swore he hated you all, but you knew better. He was part of the family and there was a reason he had stuck around despite his own protests.

The lounge was one of your favorite places to be and it was even better when you were joined by your fellow teachers and friends. It was a bonus perk knowing that none of the kids were allowed. You loved teaching and you loved all the bright, young students taking up residence in the mansion, but it was nice to get a break from time to time.

Especially when you needed a safe place to vent your frustrations about every wrong turn your life seemed to take.

“No, really, what’s wrong?” Ororo asked again.

"My parents," you sighed, sliding the invitation you received earlier that morning across the table so she could read it.

"What's the big deal, sugar?" Rogue wondered, leaning over Ororo’s shoulder so she could read the paper as well. "Sounds like a good time."

"Every year, it's always the same," you explained, reaching out to grab the invitation when Ororo handed it back. "My parents invite me to their Christmas party and I go because I love them, but I end up having a miserable time."

"If it's so miserable, why bother going?" Logan asked from where he was leaning up against the table that held the coffeemaker and microwave. He was sipping a beer and looked relaxed in a white t-shirt and grey sweatpants. You had a fleeting thought that Logan looked really good and you hoped Charles or Jean hadn't managed to catch that.

Charles had only grown more meddlesome in his old age and you certainly didn’t need him trying to set you up with Logan. And Logan had been infatuated with Jean for as long as you had known him. You really didn’t cherish the idea of her knowing she had something you desperately wanted.

"It's complicated," you tried, but rolled your eyes when Logan simply arched a brow at you, unimpressed with your attempt at deflection. "My parents aren't so fond of mutants," you finally conceded, unsurprised at Logan's snort and shake of his head.

"I might be missing something here, but you're a mutant, aren't you?" Remy asked as he dropped down into the chair at Rogue's side. He let his arm stretch across the back of her chair and you noticed the way she leaned into him, careful not to let her skin brush against him.

You hadn't noticed Remy enter the room, since you had been so focused on Logan. You shrugged your shoulders, staring morosely at the rest of your sandwich. "Yeah," you sighed, meeting Remy's gaze. "They love me. They do," you insisted at Remy's incredulous look. "But they want me to be normal. I only see them a couple times a year, since I'm usually here with the X-Men, and every year at Christmas, without fail, I show up without a date like an idiot. And then my parents try to set me up with some normal human guy as if that will make me somehow more acceptable to them."

"That sure sounds a lot like conditional love, sugar," Rogue mused, quirking an eyebrow at you. "Why don't you just skip out on the party this year? Save yourself the hassle?"

"Because as much as they've royally fucked me up with all their anti-mutant bullshit, I still love them. I can't help it. So, if I have to suffer through another year of trying to ward off some random jackass' advances while my parents stand there smiling as if they can't see how uncomfortable I am? Then I'll deal with the torture if I can make them happy for a few minutes."

Silence invaded the room and you suddenly got the sense that every person in the room was staring at you. You didn't realize until you said it out loud just how fucked up your situation with your parents really was, but you were so deep into it that you didn't know if you'd ever be able to claw your way free.

"Well," Ororo started, leaning forward across the table and placing a hand on your arm, as if trying to offer you comfort. "If you want them to stop meddling, then show up with a date. Break the cycle."

"But that's the problem," you protested, crossing your arms over your chest. "I'm not dating anyone, so I don't have a date."

"Well, it's not like it's got to be a real one, darling. Why I'm sure Remy would love to go with you. Your parents will sure get a kick out of him," Rogue offered, reaching out to settle a gloved hand on Remy's shoulder.

Remy offered you a smirk before holding out his hand with his palm turned up. You furrowed your brow as you rested your hand in his and laughed when he pulled your hand close and kissed it.

"It would be my pleasure," he vowed with a wink.

You glanced from Remy to Rogue and then back again, realizing they were completely serious. You knew your parents would flip when they met Remy. He was charming, but chaotic, and sure to piss your parents off. If his red, glowing eyes didn't give away that he was a mutant, then you were sure it would only be a matter of time before he blew something up.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad showing up with a date. Remy was your friend and you knew that he would do whatever it took to make sure you weren't cornered by some asshole who had been misled by your parents into thinking you were on the market. You felt safe with Remy and maybe for once you might actually enjoy one of your parent's Christmas parties.

"Alright," you decided, nodding your head as you drew you hand back. "Yeah, that sounds like--"

"I'll do it," Logan interrupted, startling you.

You had completely forgotten he was practically standing right behind you. You turned in your chair to look at him. You were surprised to see him studying you, expression intent.

"What?" You blurted, sure that you had misheard Logan.

"I'll be your date," Logan offered before casually raising his beer and taking a sip, as if he hadn't sent your heart into a frenzy.

"You don't have to," you assured him, not sure how you would be able to handle Logan as a date to your parent's Christmas party. It wasn't that you didn't want to go with Logan, because you absolutely did. The problem was that you had had a pathetic crush on him the moment you first laid eyes on him, but Logan was notoriously head over heels for Jean.

Even though she was married to Scott, you had heard time and again from practically every person on the X-Men that Logan had been in love with her from the first moment he met her. So, you wouldn't be able to handle a fake date with Logan, because you would spend the whole time desperately wishing that it was real.

"I want to," Logan insisted, finally standing up out of his slouch against the table that had been converted into a coffee bar. He rolled his shoulders, like he was preparing for a fight, and you wondered why he was being so adamant about being your date.

"That's sweet of you, Logan, but Remy already offered, and--," you tried before you were cut off by Logan again.

"I'll do it," Logan stressed, a hint of a growl in his voice as he stared down Remy like he was challenging him to something.

You glanced from Logan to Remy to Logan again.

"What the hell is going on," you muttered, shooting a bewildered look at Ororo and Rogue to see if they were as confused as you were.

Rogue looked amused and Ororo was watching Logan with an arched brow. But neither one seemed to be questioning the events that were playing out before them.

After what seemed like hours of intense eye contact between the two, Remy finally held up his hands in surrender. He shot you a wink, ignoring Logan's grunt of protest.

"I'm sure our Logan will do a fine job playing your paramour," Remy added, reaching out to run his fingers along your arm. "But if it doesn't work out, you know where to find me."

Logan grumbled something under his breath before he strode over. He snatched the invitation off the table, succeeding in separating you and Remy, before he skimmed over the page.

"How long will it take to get there?" Logan asked, glancing down at you.

"It's about a three-hour drive from here," you told him, trying not to focus too much on the fact that Logan was so close to you that you could feel the heat radiating off his body. The fabric of his sweatpants was dangerously close to brushing against your arm and you had to force yourself to stay absolutely still, because you weren't even sure what you would do if you allowed yourself to move.

"Be ready to leave by four tomorrow, then," Logan ordered before he placed his empty bottle of beer on the table between you and Remy and left the room.

You stared at the door for a moment before finally turning your gaze on the three people patiently waiting for you to break free of your stupor.

"What the hell just happened?" You wondered, still trying to catch up.

"What happened," Remy started, leaning back in his seat and placing his arm along the back of Rogue's chair again, "my beautiful, clueless friend, is that Ororo here owes me twenty dollars."

"What," you muttered, watching helplessly as Ororo handed Remy the money she evidently owed him.

"It was only a matter of time," Remy continued, tucking the money away in his pocket. "Logan's wanted you for years."

You scoffed, ready to deny it, but shut up at Ororo's eye roll.

"I thought he would never make a move, but Remy had far more faith in Logan than I did."

"A move? What move? There wasn't a move," you insisted.

"Swooping in and stealing you away from a fake date with my Remy? That was a move," Rogue assured you, grinning at you. "It was only a matter of time. Everyone knows about Logan's feelings except for you."

"There are no feelings, because he's been pining for Jean for years," you reminded them. You stood up, grabbing the invitation off the table, and fixed them all with a determined look. "You're all wrong, you know that? Nothing's going to happen between Logan and me," you told them before leaving the room.

You clutched the paper in your hands and tried to ignore the fact that you really, really wanted something to happen between you and Logan.

The next afternoon, you were nearly done getting dressed when someone knocked on your door. You glanced at the clock, realizing it was nearly four, and rushed to pull on your jacket as you walked to the door.

You opened the door and stood, stunned, at the sight of Logan dressed in a dark t-shirt, jeans, and a leather jacket. This was as close to dressed up as Logan got and you didn't get why he was going to all the effort just for you or your mutant-hating parents.

"Did you shave?" You blurted, noting that his usual scruff was a little more contained than usual.

Logan shrugged his shoulders, stepping to the side and gesturing for you to lead the way. You narrowed your eyes at him as you passed him, making for the front door of the mansion. Logan reached out and stopped you with a hand on your elbow, steering you towards the garage instead.

"Are we taking your bike?" Temperatures were quickly dropping outside and you didn't exactly want to freeze your ass off even if you would be pressed up against Logan.

"Nope," Logan answered, not bothering to clarify until he was standing right beside Scott's car.

"Are we stealing Summers' car?"

Logan held up the keys, flashing you a quick grin. "Asked for permission this time," he informed you before rounding the car and pulling open the passenger side door. He stood there, watching you expectantly, before you finally forced yourself to move.

"Thanks," you told him, gifting him with a smile, before settling into the passenger seat.

Logan gently closed the door for you before moving towards the driver's side. It wasn't long before he was pulling the car out of the garage as you put your parent's address into the navigation system. Christmas music faintly played, filling the silence between you, and you kept shooting nervous looks over at Logan. His shoulders were tense and his hands periodically clenched the steering wheel tight. You couldn’t tell if he was regretting his decision or feeling just as anxious as you were.

The silence began to feel excruciatingly awkward, but you didn't know how to fill it. You spent so long staring resolutely out the window that you didn't even notice when you began to drift off, your head lolling back against the headrest as your eyes closed.

"Y/N," Logan called, his hand on your shoulder cautiously shaking you awake.

"What?" You grumbled, reluctantly opening your eyes and squinting over at him.

Logan looked enraptured, a soft smile on his face as he studied you.

"We're here," he told you, prompting you to look out the windshield to the sight of your parent's home. Logan had parked the car in the long, winding driveway. There were already several cars parked along the side of it, which only made the driveway seem longer. "So, your family's loaded, huh?"

"Yeah," you groaned with a grimace. "Why do you think they keep trying to marry me off to all their rich friend's sons? They want their legacy to continue or whatever bullshit goes on in their heads."

"Damn," Logan sighed, shaking his head. "Good thing you won't have to worry about that this year, huh?"

You nodded your head, finally making yourself look at Logan again. You reached out, tentative, and placed your hand on his arm. "Logan?"

"Yeah?" He asked, staring down at your hand before turning slightly in his seat to face you.

"Thanks," you said, pulling your hand away when you realized you had been touching him for way too long to be normal. "For doing this," you clarified, ignoring the way your cheeks flushed at his attention. "You really didn't have to, you know."

Logan stared at you for one drawn-out intense moment and you fought the urge to look away. You inanely felt like you were in a predator's sights, which was stupid because Logan would never hurt you, but you still felt like you were being hunted.

"Yeah, I did," he finally responded, his gaze lingering on you before he glanced away.

Before you could question him, Logan got out of the car. You stared at the closed driver's side door for a moment before you took a deep breath and opened the passenger door. Logan met you just as you were getting out and he closed the car door for you.

He held out his arm and you linked yours with his as you headed up towards the house. You had to stop yourself from swaying into Logan's side. There was a feeling rising within you that you weren't sure how to contain. It was anticipation and longing and fear, because if you fucked this up, then what would you do? It would be awkward living and working in the same place as Logan and you hated the idea of avoiding him all to save yourself some dignity.

Before you were ready, you were standing on your parent's doorstep, hesitant to announce your arrival.

"What's wrong?" Logan asked, nudging you in the side with his elbow.

"We can leave," you blurted, avoiding his gaze. "We can leave and just skip this year and they never have to know I was here."

Logan sighed before unhooking his arm from yours and wrapping it around your shoulders. "I've got you," he promised. "Now ring the damn doorbell."

"That was almost sweet," you muttered, grinning at Logan's snort of amusement.

You reluctantly reached out to ring the doorbell, wincing at the chime you had heard throughout all your childhood. It meant you were home and not where you really belonged at the X-Mansion. You were still debating the merits of just making a run for it when the door opened and you were met with the sight of your mother.

She looked genuinely happy to see you, which was really one of the only things that was keeping you rooted to the spot. But then she realized you weren't alone and she turned her attention towards Logan. The warmth in her smile faded into something more polite and suited for company.

"Oh, you brought a friend," your mom observed, the corners of her mouth turning down in disapproval.

"I brought a date," you corrected her, trying not to startle when Logan dropped his hold on your shoulders and instead grabbed your hand. Feeling Logan lace his fingers through yours felt like the greatest thing ever and you hated that he was only doing it for show.

"And who is this?" Your mom asked, already dismissive of Logan despite knowing nothing about him.

She knew one thing, you thought, doing your best not to scowl at your mom. She hadn't picked Logan for you, so of course he wasn't good enough.

"Logan, ma'am," he introduced with a nod of his head.

"And how do you know my daughter, Logan?" Your mom interrogated, staring him down as if she could make him disappear if she concentrated hard enough.

It was then you realized your mom was refusing to move until she got her answers. Your mom hated being perceived as rude and you knew she must really not want Logan there if she wasn't even going to pretend to welcome him.

"Y/N and I work together and--" Logan cut himself off and shot you a wary look. You shook your head, letting him know not to tack on that you practically lived together as well. "We work together," he settled on with a small shrug of his shoulders.

"Are you one of those?" Your mom asked, gesturing briefly towards you.

You felt Logan tense up at your side and knew that trouble was fast approaching. Logan smiled at your mom, practically baring his teeth, and cocked his head to the side. "A mutant?" He supplied, practically not blinking as he met your mom's unimpressed stare with one of his own. "You could say that, sure," he added with a dangerous smirk that sent warning bells ringing in your head.

You tightened your hold on Logan's hand, lending him your own brand of moral support while also hoping to shut him up. "Mom, it's cold out here," you hinted, quirking an eyebrow at her. “Maybe you should invite us in.”

"Right," she muttered before stepping aside. "Why don't you and your...date," she practically sneered, "come in?"

"Thanks," Logan told your mom, offering her a wide, unsettling smile. "Your hospitality is appreciated."

You had never really seen Logan like this before. Maybe once or twice when he was in the same room as Scott and Jean and he wanted to get under Scott's skin. But this was somehow different and terrifying and just a bit thrilling.

Logan was doing his damnedest to stand up for you while also pretending to respect your mom. You could tell your mom was disappointed in you, but you didn't even care. You found yourself wishing that bringing Logan as your date was real, but you would take what you could get. You would just have to enjoy Logan's attention for as long as you had it.

Logan urged you forward with a hand on the small of your back and then helped you shrug out of your coat. “You weren’t kidding,” he muttered under his breath, sounding irritated. “You’ve put up with this shit your whole life?”

“Yeah,” you answered, knowing it was starting to look really pathetic on your part.

Your mom had retreated into the living room. You could see her talking to your dad and she pointed towards you and Logan. Your dad scowled before schooling his expression into something more neutral.

"Shit," you hissed, before grabbing Logan's arm. "Let's go somewhere else," you suggested.

"I go where you go," Logan promised, letting you lead him towards the dining room where you knew you would find a buffet-style spread of food.

At the very least, this was something your parents always got right. Logan looked exhilarated as he piled a plate with all kinds of food, ranging from strips of steak to scalloped potatoes to slices of honey glazed ham.

“Now this is a spread,” he approved, taking a bite of stuffed mushroom.

“Eat up,” you told him, grinning at him. “You’ve earned it.”

After eating and then drifting from room to room in a bid to avoid your parents, you realized that Logan was intent on keeping his word. He stayed right there at your side, letting you introduce him to your parent's friends and their kids with a smile on his face and a hand on the small of your back.

You were beginning to feel flustered having Logan in your space, so you retreated to the one place you knew you could drop the facade for just a little bit and gain a tiny bit of your sanity back.

You ended up hanging out with the children that had been left in a room near the back of the house. You had always hated being a kid at your parent's parties, because it meant you were stuck in a room with other kids and basically ignored for the rest of the night. But now, as an adult, it was the only true refuge to be found at your parent’s house during a party.

You ended up entertaining them with your powers. You helped some float using your forcefields and you turned invisible and let them try to find you. All the while, Logan stood at the entryway of the room, watching you with a fond little smile that set off a fluttering in the pit of your stomach.

After half an hour of Logan's undivided attention, you decided to give yourself a break. You planned on staying with the kids, so you doubted your parents would even find you. The plan was foolproof and would give you the time to calm your racing heart.

"Hey, would you mind getting me a drink?" You asked Logan, glancing up at him from where you were crouched on the floor and letting Mrs. Hudson's granddaughter draw what you thought might be a unicorn on your arm.

Logan nodded his head, pushing off the doorframe he had been leaning against. He looked so fond and you couldn’t take it anymore.

"Any preferences?"

"Surprise me," you told him with a grin, feeling just the slightest bit bold and playful.

“You got it.” Logan winked before leaving the room, doing nothing to help you feel any more in control of the situation.

"Are you and Mr. Logan getting married?" Mrs. Hudson's granddaughter asked you, adding what you assumed was blood beneath the unicorn's hooves. Either that, or she had run out of green for grass and was making do with what she had on hand.

"Mr. Logan doesn't like me like that," you told her, obediently turning your arm over when she tapped it and shook a blue marker at you.

"Yes, he does," she answered, as if it was that simple. She started shading in a sky and you hoped it would be easy to wash off later.

"Well, isn't that adorable," someone drawled from the doorway.

"Fuck," you breathed, instantly recognizing the voice.

"That's an uh-oh word," Mrs. Hudson's granddaughter reprimanded you.

"Sorry," you told her, patting her on the shoulder before standing up. You reluctantly turned to see your ex standing there. "What're you doing here?"

"Your parents invited me," Timothy told you, studying you. "God, you look great."

"Shit," you groaned, realizing that Timothy had been the person they were going to try to set you up with this year.

"That's another uh-oh word," Mrs. Hudson's granddaughter informed you with a disapproving frown.

"Right," you agreed before walking towards Timothy. "Maybe in front of the children isn't the best place for this conversation."

You brushed past Timothy, hating that you were in the same room as him, much less signing yourself up for a confrontation. You had been convinced for three years that Timothy was the one until he told you that he would rather adopt children than risk you passing on any of your 'mutant genes' to them. It had crushed you, realizing that Timothy didn't fully love you at all, and you had packed up all your things and joined the X-Men.

If anything, it should have made your parents hate Timothy for driving you away. Instead, they seemed to think he was the one who got away for you and you would never do any better.

You stopped in the entryway of an empty guest room and turned to face him.

"Look, I don't know what my parents told you, but I'm here with a date. I'm taken, alright? I don't want to get back together."

"Oh, come on," Timothy said, moving forward until he was in your space. "There's no date. You don’t have to lie to me to make me want you more. I want you. I always have. And now we're here and there's a really good reason why I should kiss you right now," he continued with a quick glance up.

You tried not to wince as you also took a chance and looked up at the frame of the doorway. "Mistletoe," you observed, hating that you had the worst luck. "It wasn't on purpose."

"I already told you that you don't have to lie to me," Timothy claimed before bringing a hand up and cupping your cheek. "I'm all yours, babe. Just say the word."

"Leave," Logan growled, approaching the pair of you from down the hallway. He had two wine glasses in his hands which he quickly set down on a table displaying family photos.

"Who the fuck are you?" Timothy asked, barely even budging from his spot in front of you.

"My date," you helpfully informed him just as Logan unsheathed his claws.

"What the--" Timothy started just as you pushed him away with a forcefield. He went stumbling back, shooting you a look of betrayal. "You swore you'd never use that against me."

"When we dated, sure," you reminded him. "But we're not together anymore. And we never will be again," you stressed, hoping he would get the message.

When Logan kept coming towards the two of you, not bothering to put away his claws, Timothy's eyes widened.

"Move it, bub," Logan snarled, looking like he was moments away from sinking his claws into Timothy.

"Okay, okay, I get it, whatever. Tell your boyfriend I'm sorry," he rambled, practically scrambling to get away from you and Logan.

You watched him scurry away, a grin tugging at your lips. "That was great," you exclaimed, turning back towards Logan. You nearly jumped when you realized that Logan was now standing right in front of you.

He packed the claws away and reached up to frame your face in his hands.

"What are you doing?" You whispered, your heart suddenly pounding so hard you were sure Logan would be able to hear it going crazy.

"There's mistletoe," Logan reminded you, his voice soft and intimate.

"We don't have to," you assured him. "I mean, it's just a dumb tradition, right? It's--"

"What I want," Logan finished for you, expression intent and serious. His thumb gently swept along your jaw and you didn't even have time to process the fact that Logan wanted to kiss you before his lips were pressed against yours.

Your brain went haywire trying to figure out what to do. You brought your hands up, unsure where they should land, before you settled them on Logan's shoulders. You were worried you would fuck the moment up by not responding, so you poured all your feelings into the kiss. You had wanted Logan for so long and if this was the only kiss you got from him, then you wanted it to be something you remembered for years to come.

Logan's touch remained gentle, but his kiss was searching and all-consuming. You nipped lightly at his lips, testing for a reaction, and shivered when Logan moaned and reeled you in closer.

By the time you pulled away, you felt like Logan had thoroughly claimed you. You nearly couldn't catch your breath, torn between giddy anticipation and fear that this was all about to come crashing down around you.

You met Logan's eyes, unsure of what you would find there. You froze for a moment, sure that you were wrong, but you let yourself take the time to really look at him. You couldn’t afford to mess this up. There was way too much at stake.

Logan was watching you like you were the only thing in the whole world. He was looking at you with affection and want and something that looked a lot like love to you. It was exactly what Remy, Rogue, and Ororo had claimed Logan had been doing all along.

"I've really got to thank Remy," you muttered, realizing that he had been right that Logan had been making a move by agreeing to be your fake date. Except, Logan did have real feelings for you, but you were the only one who hadn't been able to see it.

"What?" Logan growled, his grip briefly tightening on you. "You're really thinking about Remy right now? After what just happened, he’s what’s on your mind?"

You shook your head, smiling at Logan. Logan had absolutely no reason to be jealous, because even if he might not be aware of it, there was no one who could ever compete with him. No one else had ever made you feel the way Logan made you feel. You felt like there was a warmth taking root in your chest and it was lighting you up inside. It was all Logan. His touch, his kiss, and his affection had you feeling invincible.

As long as you had him, you truly could do anything. Including deal with your parents and their intolerance and shitty choice of suitors for you.

Logan had volunteered to be your date and had spent a whole evening putting up with your parents and their snooty, prejudiced friends all for you. Logan had run off your ex and then kissed you like he wanted nothing more than to keep doing that for the rest of his life. Logan wanted you just as much as you wanted him and you felt like you were on top of the world.

You didn't care that this had started out as fake, because now it was real and there was really only one thing you wanted to do now that you knew you had Logan.

"You've got nothing to worry about. You're all I want," you assured him before reeling him back in for another kiss underneath the mistletoe.

It wasn’t exactly the Christmas you had expected to have, but it was turning out to be the only one worth celebrating.

Logan was truly the best gift you had ever received.

All Logan Taglist: @i-left-my-cat-on-the-stove @slightlymediocree @snowyminty @i-wear-wet-socks313 @shizzybarnaclee

Series Taglist: @ayamenimthiriel @the-gentle-spirit @wolflover-20

If you would like to be added to the all logan or the series taglist, just let me know!

#logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #logan howlett #wolverine #x men #x men imagine #logan howlett imagine #wolverine imagine #reader insert #imagine #marvel #marvel imagine #christmas fic #logan x reader #in another life perhaps verse #fic #ao3 #my fic

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flemingology · 3 months ago

Note

“i might hate you, but i couldn’t bare the thought of you spending christmas alone” for leah williamson

christmas confessions ─ leah williamson x reader

part of my christmas series. full masterlist here!

in which: your christmas plans are interrupted by the british weather conditions, leading to some unexpected confessions from your arsenal vice-captain

warnings: none

wc: 3.7k

A snowstorm. Of all things that could go wrong, a snowstorm was the one that seemed to put a hold on your Christmas plans.

Recently having transferred from Lyon to Arsenal, you'd gotten your head down and focussed on your football. Normally, you'd go home every couple weeks just to be back with your family, but with your recent move you wanted to make sure you secured your spot in the starting eleven. You worked relentlessly hard for weeks on end, not allowing yourself a break, and you were proud of yourself. Really, really proud. Your football journey hadn't been the nicest one yet – your academy years littered with injuries and setbacks, you were over the moon to have finally settled in Arsenal's starting eleven. But you were starting to feel the effects of your hard work, and you started feeling like you needed some time away. To be with your friends and family back home.

Finally, though, the winter break arrived. You had wrapped up the final training session of the calendar year a couple days ago, and you were now set to go home. A couple days, just the last week of the year, before you'd go back to England. A short flight, setting to depart at 3pm, arriving at a little before 5. Your parents would pick you up from the airport and you'd go for dinner, have a drink, before all going back to your childhood home and just enjoying each other's company. But that was without taking England's horrendous winter weather into accord.

It had been horrible the whole week. Freezing cold, snow and rain all throughout the week – it had already caused you a bunch of trouble in trying to get to the grounds in time, but you completely forgot that air traffic could also be affected by the weather. So here you were, in Heathrow, staring at the departure screen as flight after flight got cancelled. Not delayed, not moved, cancelled.

Left stranded, you called the first person you always went to when struggling, needing to rant about the situation.

—

Alessia was spending her Wednesday afternoon the same way she had done for the past 2 years since making her move to Arsenal; getting coffee and a pastry with Leah. The two blondes had grown closer since Alessia made the move to London, their friendship no longer held back by the distance between Manchester and the British capital.

It was nice, their little routine. Football training that day or not, they'd find themselves in a different coffee shop every week to try out their blends, or in Leah's case, their hot chocolate or tea. They would talk about anything and everything, catching each other up on whatever hadn't been said yet at the Arsenal training grounds.

The pair were happily chatting away over a coffee and a mint tea as Alessia's ringtone went off. The striker checked the caller ID and excused herself to Leah, answering the call. She knew you were meant to be on your flight right now, so for you to be calling there must be something wrong. "Y/n? Aren't you supposed to be-"

"Less, my flight got cancelled! The weather has gotten too bad in the past couple hours and everything's been cancelled. I've asked whether it can be rescheduled, but there's nothing free anymore this week. The next available flight was January 2nd, which is a joke! I don't know what I'm supposed to do right now, my family have been preparing for me to come over for the past couple days and I don't want to disappoint them. I just, I don't know-"

"Hey, hey, y/n, take a breath, it's okay." Alessia tried to calm you down, sensing your nerves through the phone. She shot Leah a look, who was sporting a confused frown. "The situation is out of your hands, love. You can't do anything about it. I know it sucks." Alessia heard you sigh on the other end of the call, probably feeling quite defeated over the whole situation. "I know you've been looking forward to seeing your family. As soon as everything's cleared again, we'll get you on the first plane to Germany. I promise you that. Football be damned."

You chuckled on the other end of the call, and Alessia was glad you managed to muster up a small smile. "Yeah, I guess. Thanks, Less." "Don't mention it. I'm here for you, you know that. Do you need me to come pick you up from the airport?" Alessia knew you packed quite heavily and it was going to be a chore to get all of your stuff into a taxi. "No, that's fine. I think I'm gonna sit down and have a coffee here, calm down a bit, and then call a cab. I'll be fine."

Alessia reluctantly agreed, only after having you promise that you'd call her if you needed her help, or if anything went wrong. She finished up the phone call a couple moments later and put her phone back into her pocket with a deep sigh. "She's gutted."

Leah cocked her eyebrows and let the silence linger a little longer, taking a sip from her hot chocolate. "You don't have to pretend with me, you know?" Alessia added. Confusion shot across the defender's face at her words. "What do you mean by that?" The younger girl chuckled and shook her head slightly. "Leah, I know why you're distant with her. But you don't have to be that way when she's not around, god she's at Heathrow Airport of all places. You can let your guard down."

Leah took a deep breath and set her cup down, visibly struggling with how to proceed with the conversation. "I don't know, Less. I just feel like if I don't talk about it, it'll go away. I know I'm being unreasonable, but I'm just protecting myself. I don't want to go through all that hassle again. Last time I dated someone in the work field, it didn't work out. I don't wanna put myself through that again."

"Who's talking about dating, Leah? I know you like her. I'm not saying you have to voice that, but you could at least be civil with the girl. She's overthinking it like mad. She asks me all the time whether she did something wrong. And she's nervous about it, seen as you're the vice-captain at Arsenal too. She thinks you don't like her and is scared she's gonna lose her spot on the team because of that. All I'm asking of you is a little human decency, to treat her like you treat other people."

Leah looked down and started fidgeting with the rings around her fingers. "Yeah, I don't know, maybe." Alessia put her hand on Leah's causing the defender to look up. "It's okay. Just don't be a dick, okay? It's not because you don't have one that you have to be one."

—

When you arrived home a couple hours later that day, suitcases still packed in the corner of the living room, sprawled out over your couch, her caller ID was the last one you'd expected to pop up on your screen.

Leah Williamson.

You sighed deeply and rubbed your hands down your face, not feeling like dealing with whatever your Arsenal teammate wanted to scold you about now. She was probably rewatching a game and felt the need to lecture you about all the things you did wrong, and you weren't in the mood for that. You were her defensive partner after all, and you knew damn well she had high standards, not only for herself but also for others, but it was the winter break after all. Tactics be damned.

You let the call run out, breathing a sigh of relief and settled back into the couch, impatiently waiting for sleep to take over to rid you of your foul mood. Not on Leah's watch, though. No more than a couple seconds had passed before you ringtone sounded through the living room again. Wanting to get it over with so you could get some rest, you decided to pick up.

"What's the deal, Williamson? I'd like to enjoy my break, if I'm allowed? You can lecture me all you want when we're back at the club." You knew you were being curt, maybe slightly unreasonable, but your heightened emotions combined with how the defender had treated you ever since you joined Arsenal made you snap.

"Hey, hey, chill, I'm not calling to lecture you, y/n. God, do you think I'm some fucking loser who does nothing but think about football on their break?"

You didn't like the way this conversation was going, despite only having spoken a couple sentences to one another. You sat up and rubbed a hand down the side of your neck, closing your eyes as you slowly inhaled and exhaled – trying to calm yourself.

"Sorry. My mistake. Why are you calling?"

You heard shuffling on the other end of the phone, the rustling of what sounded like a jacket and shoes being taken off. Of course. Coffee with Less. She probably overheard your conversation with her earlier.

"I was just with Less," she started. Bingo. "and I heard about your cancelled flight. I'm sorry, I know you were looking forward to seeing your family."

You weren't quite used to this sentiment coming from Leah, the England captain having barely said a civil word to you ever since you joined her childhood club. It's not like you didn't speak, it's just that she made it seem like a chore every time she had to string a conversation together with you on the receiving end. Short, blunt, curt, sometimes outright disrespectful. You'd learned to accept that not everybody was always going to like you, but the least you'd expect from people was some basic human decency – something you thought Leah lacked sometimes.

You audibly sighed. "Yeah, it's crap. But I'll be fine. Now that you got that over with, what's the real reason?"

You heard a quiet snicker coming from the other end of the call, struggling to see what was so funny about your conversation. "There's no... other reason, y/n. I just wanted to call and check in. You know, defensive partner and all, just calling to make sure you're not drowning in self-pity."

You could hear the smile that tugged at her lips as she spoke out those final couple words. "Well, thanks, I guess? Thanks for checking in. Have a good rest of your night, Leah." You lowered the phone and were about to end the call, wanting nothing more than to fall back in the cosy bundle of pillows and blankets you'd set up for yourself.

"Oi, wait! I wasn't done!" You grumbled something incoherently under your breath before bringing the phone back to your ear. "I'm listening."

"This is gonna sound really weird, I know, but just let me speak. I was wondering if, if maybe you, you know-" A couple moments of silence followed and you were about to speak up, but Leah interrupted those plans. "If, you know, if you were free to come spend Christmas Eve with me?"

You frowned, taking a moment to gather your thoughts. Leah Williamson, Arsenal teammate, who to your best knowledge absolutely despised you, is inviting you for Christmas Eve? A joke.

"Uhm, I guess, well-" You didn't get much further than that before the blonde's voice interrupted you. "Look, I know how it sounds. You're probably thinking I'm just doing this out of pity and sympathy, you know captain things and all that, but that's not it. I don't have plans, yours have been cancelled, let's spend it together."

If you weren't so caught up in your own thoughts, you would've noticed the slight waver in Leah's voice. She was beyond nervous on the other side of the phone. You'd never said this much to each other in such a short space of time, let alone the contents of what was being discussed. You'd never willingly been in the same room. If not for bonding nights, you'd probably never see Leah outside of the Arsenal training grounds.

You didn't get it, though. You'd spent countless nights wracking your brain as to why Leah would treat you like she did. But you blanked every single time. It gnawed on you. You wanted her to respect you, to acknowledge you, to treat you like she treated others. But she made that seem like the worst thing in the world. Unimaginable, even.

"So?" Leah's voice broke up your train of thoughts and you scrambled together a response without really thinking about what you were saying. "Uhm, sure. I guess. Yeah. Just text me the logistics and I'll be there." You didn't really feel like going, but you also didn't want to give Leah more reason to not speak to you. And in all honesty, you wanted the conversation to be over so you could finally get some sleep.

"Oh! Okay! Yeah, okay, that's great. Thanks. Okay. I'll text you. You text me too, okay? I'll see you then."

Your own goodbyes got interrupted by the tone of the call ending, a confused frown etched on your face at how nervous Leah had suddenly seemed. Not wanting to give it much more thought, you turned off your phone's ringer and threw it on the coffee table, finally drowning yourself in a very well-deserved sleep.

—

Tuesday night, December 24th. 5:23pm. Approximately one hour left until you had to be at Leah's. Of all people, Leah's. When you caught Alessia up about the plans the two of you had made, she reacted slightly suspicious. So much so that you thought she had a hand in it, but she quickly reassured you that was not at all the case. Still, she didn't seem surprised. If anything, she thought it was good. An opportunity for the two of you to just start all over again.

You couldn't lie, that sounded good to you too. You wanted to be friends with Leah, but you also wouldn't just forget how she treated you during your first couple months at Arsenal. That's not something you could forgive and forget through a pity invitation to spend Christmas Eve together.

Yet, you found yourself struggling to find something to wear. You wanted to dress nice, but not too nice, because you're just two friends spending the holidays together. Not lovers, not dating, god, probably not even friends. Teammates? Acquaintances, maybe. At best.

You finally settled on a light green dress. It complimented your body just right, accentuating your curves in all the right places but not too tight. You put on some light make-up and finished off your outfit with some accessories. You checked your appearance about twelve times in your full-body mirror in the living room, 'just to be sure', before eventually grabbing your car keys off the kitchen counter and exiting your apartment block. You debated walking to Leah's, it was a 10-minute walk tops, but that felt like putting too much trust in your pencil heels.

3 quick knocks on the door and a couple seconds later, you were met with a version of your defensive counterpart you'd never seen before. She was dressed in a pair of black slack pants, paired with a white button-up shirt. She had left the top two buttons open, offering a perfect view of the delicate golden necklace gracing her tanned skin. Definitely self-tanner, though, because God forbid the United Kingdom gets a sliver of sun anywhere past September – but you spare her the red cheeks by not pointing it out. Her hair was loose, falling graciously on her shoulders, a welcome change from the bun or ponytail she always had it in during training or games.

"Hey," you muttered, once you realized neither of you had said a word since Leah opened her front door. Unbeknownst to you, while you were eyeing her up, Leah also let her eyes glide over your figure, taking in your appearance. She thought you looked good. Really good. Too good for her own good. That good that she'd probably struggle to not mention it every 5 minutes, when conversation obviously dies down for the 30th time that evening. Because what does she talk about for hours with someone she always pretended to dislike?

Turns out, there's a lot to talk about. Uncomfortable silences? You two don't know those. And while it's been good, it's been comfortable and easy, you still felt quite apprehensive about the whole ordeal. And you could tell by Leah's body language that she was feeling similar to you. Conversation had been flowing easily, but it felt like you were just scratching the surface. Like there was something underneath that needed to be addressed, but neither of you felt like digging deep enough to be able to bring it up. If anything, you thought, that's Leah's job. After all, she was the one to invite you to spend Christmas Eve together after she spent months making you feel like she despised you.

And that's what she did. Eventually. After lots of coaxing and promises that you wouldn't be mad and you understood – you were quite mad and you definitely didn't understand – Leah finally mustered up the courage to talk to you about the past months.

She opened up about everything. How she'd been excited when she learned about your move to the club, at first. But when you came to visit the training grounds on your first day, that sentiment completely changed. Leah had always found you quite attractive, but that wasn't something that had to be dealt with seen as you were across the North Sea and not someone she had to deal with in her day-to-day life. So, even though nothing had been explored between the two of you, not even a single conversation strung together, she already started closing herself off.

She told you about how she kicked herself for it day after day, that she realized damn well how bad she was treating you. She knew that you didn't know where it came from, and that hurt her even more. She didn't want to hurt you, didn't want to treat you any less good than she did with the rest of her teammates, but she just couldn't let her guard down around you. Not with the way you looked, the way you carried yourself on and off the pitch, the way you worked so tirelessly to be the best version of yourself day after day after day. She admired you, really. But she didn't allow herself to feel that. To acknowledge that. To acknowledge you.

"I know it sounds stupid. Trust me, I know. You don't know how many nights I've laid awake just thinking about how poorly I was treating you. But I just couldn't bring myself to not do it. Because that would mean I'd eventually snap and just... tell you everything I've just told you."

You slowly nodded, not trusting your voice just yet after having just been quiet for what has been the best part of 20 minutes. You let her come to you, let her talk until she felt like she said it all, because you knew if you interrupted her she'd maybe forget things.

"And, for the record, I don't want anything in return from you. God, no, I just thought you deserved to know. And no, I didn't invite you out of pity tonight. I just saw an opportunity open up when I learned about your cancelled flight and I knew I had to take it. I couldn't let it go any longer and I needed to tell you. So hence, the invitation. I just hope I didn't ruin the rest of our night now, by confessing all of this."

You chuckled, slightly shaking your head before repositioning yourself a little on Leah's couch. You ran a hand through your hair and breathed out a shaky exhale, locking eyes with Leah as you looked back up at her.

"You're ridiculous, Leah. Honestly, I get it, I think, but treating me like that for this reason, is ridiculous. And I know you know it, but that doesn't mean that I can't tell you too, because-" Leah tried to interrupt you, probably to apologize again, but you held up your hand to signal that you weren't done speaking yet.

"Because, you made me feel like shit, Le. You made me feel like I wasn't worthy of that starting spot at Arsenal, despite knowing damn well that I was doing good in our backline. You made me feel like I didn't belong in the squad, like I did something wrong, like I did something to upset you. It was so conflicting, and it stressed me out. Real bad. It's not a nice feeling when your vice-captain doesn't like you. Or, rather, when you feel like your vice-captain doesn't like you. I know now that that wasn't the case, but that doesn't fix your case."

Leah looked down, fidgeting with her ring-clad fingers. You continued. "Look, Leah, it sucked. But now at least I know what was behind it. And I don't wanna keep being mad at you. Because truthfully, I want to be closer to you, closer with you. I wanna be treated like you treat other people, okay? We can explore whatever needs to be explored later, but first I just want us to be civil with each other."

The blonde defender looked up at you, hastily nodding when she realized you were waiting for some kind of response. "Yeah, yeah, god, yeah, that would be nice." She slightly stumbled over her words, trying to form coherent thoughts in a mind that was running at a 100 miles an hour. You scooted a little closer to her, closing a bit of the space that was between the both of you on the couch and slowly moved your hand closer to hers, that was laying dormant in her lap.

You searched her eyes for any uncertainty, concern, and then softly laid your hand on top of hers, giving it a slight squeeze. "Thank you for opening up," you said softly. "It means a lot to me. I know how you are with feelings." Leah twisted her hand and intertwined your fingers. "Thank you for listening. And thank you for giving me another chance. I promise I'll be better. Better for you."

"I know you will."

#woso #woso community #woso imagine #woso x reader #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #arsenal wfc #england wnt #lionesses

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omega-e123 · 2 months ago

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Unwombing Day

Really self indulgent. It was my birthday back in December and I got to do none of the things I wanted to.

For the past two months, meticulous planning had been made. Ideas upon ideas on how to celebrate your birthday were scribbled in a mini notebook. Days leading up had him checking the weather incessantly. There was even a back up plan for when it rained instead of snowed. Placed he could drive you to and still stay toasty warm. Plus, Shadow knew that you didn't mind sitting in a car while it rained. Pitter patter of droplets hitting the roof had a calming effect.

Instead of it raining, clear skies, or even a mild snowfall the world had decided to shut you two in. Snow was accounted for, but not a whole blizzard. Roaring cold winds plus the quickly accumulating snowfall foiled each and every single plan to take you out on a nice birthday date.

Frustrated, Shadow apologized to you constantly, "Forgive me. I hadn't expected for this to happen. I will make it up to you." He thinks on the spot on what could be done to salvage this despite your reassurance that it's no big deal. So far the only thing he was able to cross off his list was a late breakfast in bed.

"I have an idea! How about we make something together?" You suggest, placing an arm on his shoulder.

He rsises a brow, "Make something? What do you have in mind?"

"There's this trend that has been going around where you take a few minutes to paint something and then trade the canvas. What do you say?"

"I'm not particularly artistic," Shadow replies under his breath.

"And that's perfectly fine with me!" You begin to pull away from him and make your way to where you've stored your art supplies. "It's about spending time with each other!"

"If that is what you want, I have no objections."

Art supplies are neatly arrenged atop the coffee table. For the next few hours, you two spend time chatting around and painting. Shadow was not in the slightest overexaggerating when he claimed that painting wasn't his strong suit.

Didn't matter.

It was interesting to see where his mind went. Looking up you can see him spend at least a solid minute staring at the canvas. Occasionally Shadow would narrow his brows and stare at it hard, lightly chewing on the brush end in hand. That's when you knew he was thinking of what to add. When those eyes were relaxed and a smile sneaks onto his face, it was easy to tell when Shadow was simply admiring the work already done. Those moments.. you sneakily cancel the timer and restart it. Leaves him a little more time to paint and a little more time for you to 'inconspicuously' watch him. Honestly, it gave you the idea to paint each other right after.

Not once did either of you get frustrated with the other during the activities. It's fun trying to think of how to incorporate the other person's additions to create a cohesive painting with each pass. At the end of it, you two signed the corner of the pieces and hung them up.

The sun was starting to set.

Shadow heavily insisted on making dinner by himself only to be shot down by you. “It’s my special day!”

“Exactly why I wish to spoil you.”

“I thought it was supposed to be whatever I say goes. What I want is to help you make dinner.”

No matter what he’s say, it seemed like you had a rebuttal. ‘If it makes you happy’, he supposes. Truth be told, this is the most quality time you two have spent with each other in a long while. Part of the day wasn’t going to be spent on you waiting on him to finish cooking!

A compromise was eventually reached where he did most of the work while you watched and helped on the side. More so you guided Shadow a lot.. of the way. His skills in the kitchen has improved exponentially. Before it was only soups and instant microwaved food. Now he’s able to create an edible meal so long as he has instructions.

With your help, dinner tasted great. The ambiance of decorated flowers in the middle plus a few carefully placed candles really set the mood. Why do to a busy restaurant where you can barely hear the other person and have to wait a while for over priced food? At home it’s quiet. There’s no rush to finish the plate. Plus, you get a fun little activity together.

Shadow took your empty plates and brought them over to the sink. As you were about to protest, the power went out. The only thing giving light to your surroundings were those candles. “Looks like the dishes will have to wait,” he states, washing his hands.

Dejected, you sigh, “I was going to ask if you wanted to watch a movie.. Looks like that’s out of the agenda.”

Nodding Shadow replies, “I understand. Is there anything else you would like to do?” Just as things were turning out okay, the power had to prove him wrong.

“No..“

His ears flop down, feeling sorry that the day hadn’t gone as planned.. or even unplanned. No cake. No ice cream. No hot chocolate. Not only that, opening up the fridge would make whatever is inside spoil faster if the power doesn’t come back on soon enough.

The last thing on the list he can think of is your present.

Shadow asks you to get more candles out to light up the room. At least one in each room. Meanwhile, he beelines it to the closet and searches all the way in the back behind a small dresser. It slides forward to reveal a meticulously wrapped box about half the size of a pillow. He returns to the living room to see you setting up the last candle on the coffee table.

“Oh! Shadow! What do you have there? It’s a bit hard to see even with these.”

The hedgehog takes a seat on the couch, gesturing you to join him. You comply and plop onto the soft cushions. “What’s that?” Again you ask, pointing at the box.

“This is.. your gift. I apologize for being absent so often. It must be lonely for you to wait so long for me to come home,” Shadow replies in a soft voice. The present is passed onto your lap and he gives you the ‘go ahead’ to rip into it. “Truth be told, I had help figuring out what you’d like.”

One by one the layers are torn off. “Help? Shad, you do know that whatever you get me I will cherish no matter what, right? Even if you got me nothing, your presence alone today is all I could ever ask for.”

A hearty chuckle is mildly muffled by gloved hands attempting to hide his shy smile. “I figured you would say that.”

In the box revealed a small doppleganger of your beloved partner. Tears well up from how absolutely adorable it is. It’s so soft! So squishy! The craftsmanship is amazing. This little plush is the spitting image of the ultimate life form, down to the teeny smirk on his face.

“Shadow this is..!” You pull it in for a tight hug, smooching it on top of its head before burying your face in the fluff.

Already he can feel the jealously bubbling in his chest. It should be him getting all that love! Not the little imposter.. Ah, how ridiculous— becoming envious of a stand in. “For when I’m away on long missions. He can keep you company. “

Lavender scent fills your nose. How unexpected! Lifting your head up, you beam, “Thank you so much Shadow! I love him!”

Gck…

“Of course, not as much as you,” you quickly add.

“How did..?”

“It’s written all over your face, silly.” Pulling away from the plush, you give another good look at it. “Buuuut.. I think the little guy looks much more cuter,” you add before peppering it in kisses, “and he doesn’t mind all of the rapid fire smooches.”

Shadow huffs and yoinks the doll from you. “I’m right here, you know. One thing it can’t do is kiss you back,” he claims, boldly kissing your cheek. “That and kiss you like this.” With a finger and thumb, Shadow tilts your head and envelops your lips with his own.

“Shadow, my heart.. I might have to pay more attention to your clone if it gets you to act like this,” you whisper, slowly leaning towards him to take back your gift.

“Hmph.”

#shadow the hedgehog #shadow the hedgehog x reader #shadow x reader #sth

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justwinginglife · 15 days ago

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The BL Boys React To Your Pet Names

Guys, I did just kinda pick and choose from the boys because there are so many of them and I’m lazy. Wrote this kinda off the top of my head, might do a part two maybe. If you want HCs for a specific boy, either one who wasn’t mentioned or more of one that was mentioned, let me know and I’ll do my best.

@ouiouimochi this is your sign to write more BL.

Sae Itoshi

The first time you call Sae a pet name, he simply stares at you, seemingly unamused. He doesn’t say anything, but you’re sure he’s probably thinking something along the lines of, “Really? ‘Baby’ was the best you could do?” You quickly cough and change the subject, vowing to never bring up the pet names again. As the day goes by, he realizes you really aren’t going to call him by the pet name again. He waits for you to say it, he doesn’t want to be the one to tell you that he actually enjoyed it, but eventually when he comes to the conclusion that you’re far too embarrassed to ever attempt it again, he sighs and takes you by the chin before giving you a stern look. “Did I say you could stop calling me baby? No, I didn’t. So get on with it already.” You blink, surprised. Then a smile spreads across your face. “Whatever you say, baby.”

Meguru Bachira

Bachira’s grin stretches endlessly when he hears the pet name you’ve so casually let slip from your lips. “Ooooh, so we’ve moved onto pet names, have we? Sounds like so much fun, my turn!” You have to smile at his enthusiasm and you’re honestly curious to see what he’ll pick out for you. It isn’t until he starts whispering every pet name he can think of into your ear, in that low, seductive tone of his that you realize you might’ve started something dangerous. Sweat begins to drip down your neck and your cheeks flush red as he murmurs in your ear, nipping and sucking at the lobe, “How’s my baby doing? My darling. Love of my life. Honey. Princess. Angel.” He purrs each word like he knows exactly what it’s doing to you. “M-Meguru!” You protest, trying to pull away. He holds you firmly in his grip. “I’m not done yet, sweetie.” Just what have you done?

Hyoma Chigiri

Chigiri looks away, and you think he might’ve disliked the pet name, but then he mumbles under his breath, “Say it again.” You grin. “Hi baby,” you coo into his ear. He shivers and then pulls you close to him. “You’re such a tease,” He grumbles. “But you like it though,” You say with a wink. “But I like it though,” He concedes, repeating your words in agreement. After snuggling close to you for a few more moments, he finally says, “You know you can’t take it back, right?” You laugh. “Silly baby. What makes you think I’d take it back? You’re mine for life.” His brows furrow, his mind still clouded with conflict, “Alright, well, if we get into a fight and you’re mad at me, you better still call me baby, you got that? None of this Chigiri or Hyoma shit anymore.”

Reo Mikage

Reo blinks and then he smirks. “Baby, huh? I like it. Has a nice ring to it. Makes me want to parade you around, in front of the entire team, and have you say it over and over again. Give them something to bitch about later.” You laugh. “That’s not why I said it.” He grins devilishly. “I know, but it’s a perk that comes with it. Why shouldn’t I show you off? Let’s make everybody miserable with how unbearably happy we are together.” He begins to suck and kiss at your neck, unbothered by the fact that he’s acting out in broad daylight. His hands wander your body greedily as proof of the effect the pet name has had on him. “Reo-” You whine, trying to fend off his advances. “Nuh-uh. It’s ‘baby’ now, remember? I won’t answer to anything else anymore. Now, moan it a little louder for me, sweetheart.”

Seishiro Nagi

“Baby? Oh. Yeah. I guess that is what couples usually call each other. Alright, I’ll call you baby too.” He’s completely unbothered by this new phase in your relationship, and he continues to game on his console without a care in the world. You should’ve known he would react like this, should’ve known it wouldn’t be as big a deal to him as it was to you, but you’ve just spent this whole time psyching yourself up to say it, and if you’re honest, you’re disappointed he didn’t react more. You bite your lip. He peers up at you from his position laying in your lap. “Something wrong?” You muster up a smile and shake your head. He sits up. “That’s not true. Tell me. What’s wrong?” You sigh. “I thought you’d be more… excited by the pet names.” His brows furrow. “I’m thrilled, what do you mean?” Your heart skips a beat. “You…are? You didn’t seem like it.” He caresses your cheek. “I instantly jumped to calling you pet names too, didn’t I? I’m thrilled, baby. I am. Really.” He presses his forehead against yours. “I love you,” He adds for emphasis. He says it so simply but maybe it’s the straightforward way in which he says it that sets your heart at ease, because for him, loving you is as easy as existing.

Rin Itoshi

Rin ushers you into a supply closet and quickly shuts the door. You smirk. “Something wrong, baby?” There’s that word again. He tenses up. “You can’t just call me that in front of the team,” He hisses, cheeks tinging red. You take a step towards him, backing him against the door. Then you dance two fingers up his chest. “But you’re my baby, are you not?” He huffs and crosses his arms in a fake show of annoyance. But he isn’t annoyed. Not in the slightest. In fact, he’s thinking to himself that it’s probably perfect he yanked you into the supply closet because he’s feeling he might melt into a puddle at this very minute and you’ll have to carry him home in a mop bucket. “Yeah, well…” He finally begins to speak, his voice taking on a much softer tone, “Can you just say it when we’re at home alone? I don’t want anybody to see this side of me but you.”

Shouei Barou

Barou snorts. “Do I look like a baby to you?” You roll your eyes. “Well, I’m not calling you king.” He raises a brow at your attitude. “My lord will do just fine.” A devious look crosses your face. “Oh, you want to play the power game?” You suddenly straddle his lap. “Mind telling me exactly which one of us was whimpering last night, begging for a break?” Barou grits his teeth. You bite back a grin as you snuggle up against him, triumphant. He tenses in frustration, but he allows it. “I’ll try something else then,” You concede, not wanting to tarnish anymore of his ego than you already have. “How about my darling? Or my love?" He wrinkles his nose. “Do I look like some lovesick fool to you?” You raise a brow as if to say “Do you really want me to answer honestly?” He narrows his eyes at you. “Fine. How about, Handsome?” He straightens slightly, interest peaked. Finally. “There he is. Hi, Handsome.” You purr into his ear with a voice that turns even kings into beggars. Looks like he’ll be spending tonight on his knees too.

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the-s1lly-corner · 4 months ago

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Making flower crowns for various crps (1/?)

I'm making these like. No bake granola balls and omg I tried some before I put it up and it's so good I'm so excited to try them when they're ready

Characters: slenderman, splendorman, ticci toby, masky, hoodie

Notes: reader is gn, this may be split into 3 parts for the characters , we will see, writing this while in a massive motivation slump chat i am struggling

CWs: none

SLENDERMAN

he already knows what youre doing long before you approach him with the crown... he does feign some level of surprise just for you albeit in the form of lightly raising his brows- he... doesnt emote that often...

he wears it for a while just for you, though he does eventually hang it somewhere so it can dry out and be preserved. he WILL raise hell if someone comes into his woods and steals it like they do his pages. it was a gift you made for him, hes not going to let some wandering hiker steal it from him

just say the word and he will bring you flowers to make more crowns, or better yet take you to where a lot of flowers tend to grow in the woods!

leaves flowers in your room or at your home for you whenever he gets the chance to gather some

SPLENDORMAN

oooooooo did you make that for him? give him a second to make one for you so the two of you can match! no really he only needs a minute or two, hes for the speed and efficiency to make one much much faster than you ever could- whether from experience or excitement or simply being built different... you werent sure!

will loop it around his hat so it rests on the brim.. will point out the specific flowers you wove into it and asks if the choices were intentional... even if they werent hes going to compliment your choices and if youre interested ramble about the meanings of the flowers you did choose

he loves daisies and sunflowers! they look so... "happy" as he puts it!

will dry the crown out so he can keep it long term

MASKY

why would you make him this? not to make him sound ungrateful, he moreso means it in a confused sense because... what use is there to wear this? it is nice, though....

dont even try to snatch it back off of his head hes going to either evade you or grip it to his head in his hands- possibly the most... expressive... youve seen him be in response to non-dangerous things

keeps it stashed away somewhere when he needs to take it off to go into the woods and do his work

he... finds himself making one for you... the process is actually quite calming for him... half of the flowers he picks are actually weeds- not that he cares about the difference. a flower is a flower regardless of where it grows

HOODIE

he likes it! you... think... the mask makes it hard to tell and he just... let you put it on top of his head- you get the feeling that he already knew you were making the crown

keeps it in a safe space, but somewhere visible so you know that he didnt through it out or trash it or whatever- he knows you put time and effort into this and hes going to let you know that hes not going to disregard it... will dry it out like his boss

one night he comes home with all sorts of plants- flowers, weeds, grass, everything he could get his hands on- in his arms and dumps them in front of you- and he starts signing...

...he wants you to show him how to make a crown too!

TICCI TOBY

initially acts like its not that big of a deal or that its really something hes interested in it... but hes shutting you down when you offer to take it back

wears it even when he goes out in the woods, will throw hands if someone snatches it off of his head or damages it in some way. he does NOT care if theyre just flowers!

attempts to dry the crown out, likely fails somewhere down the line and he feels so distraught- he knows that it was going to happen eventually but god does it do nothing to take away the disappointment.. his ass does not know how to effectively preserve plants

you both sit together making crowns

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meangirls-imagines · 1 year ago

Note

Heyo! I saw your requests were open and knew I had to slide in on this.

So I was hoping to request something with fem!Reader with Renee Rapps Regina George. That idea is that reader just has absolutely no dirt on her(reader out here being the golden child). Anyway it passes on Regina to no end, especially because she can't intimidate the taller girl.

One day, they are arguing in the halls, and the reader just kinda grabs her by the lapels of her jacket or front of her shirt and pulls her in really close. Says something along the lines of her not being able to do anything and not piss her off. Then a switch just kinda flips in Regina, like, ah shit, did I find that hot?

Anyway, proceed with Regina trying her best to get reader to date her, and it just kinda being brushed off for a while. You do whatever you gotta do, and if you don't wanna do this, totally get it.

..... holy cow, sorry for all of the writing. I just saw you like detailed asks and went overboard. Whoops, anyway, love your writing, and I hope you have an absolutely fabulous day/night!! 💐💐😁

Regina George is a Bottom

Description: Regina is frustrated that Reader doesn't care for her. One day, after an argument, Regina realizes she might not be the apex predator after all.

WARNINGS: reader being a little shit, regina gay panicking, mentions of masturbation, slight smut at the end, slight choking (regina receiving)

Regina considered herself an amicable person.

She liked to think that after dying for 15 seconds, not much could bother her.

Boy, was she wrong.

Y/N Y/L/N seemed to be the only person in the whole school that didn't care what was going on with Regina. For example, when Regina got blasted with the sprinklers, and one girl asked why she hadn't changed her look, Y/N simply responded, "Who cares what makeup look Regina is wearing?"

When Regina got hit by the bus, she received multiple cards from people at school, one being from her entire english class. Even high on pain meds, she noticed the one signature missing. Y/N.

When the teacher asked Y/N to sign it, the girl responded, "Why would I sign a card for something that could've been avoided?"

When Regina healed and came back to school, she made it her mission to at least befriend Y/N. She started trying to make small talk with the girl, only receiving short answers. She tried to invite the girl to sit with her at lunch, only for her to say no.

Regina was about to explode. Why didn't she have an effect on this girl? Why did she seem to not care about her? Why is she so hot?

What?

Regina tried to shake that thought from her head. She wasn't gay. She just thought Y/N was nice to look at. She thought a lot of girls were nice to look at, that didn't mean she wanted to have sex with them.

She wanted to have sex with Y/N. Wait..

Was Regina gay?

She needed to talk to someone gay.

Janis was not surprised to see Regina at her door, asking if they could talk. She knew this day would come eventually and after presenting the Lesbian Masterdoc like a Ted Talk, Regina came to a conclusion.

She was gay. And she wanted Y/N.

Over the next few weeks, she would not take no for an answer from the girl and the blonde is beginning to irritate Y/N. She won't leave her alone. They only share two classes together but Regina has made to her mission to sit next her for both.

Y/N didn't want to admit that Regina was kinda growing on her. She knew how the blonde worked. She knew of her reputation to string people along and dump them. Plus, she wasn't even sure Regina was gay.

The blonde was persistent, Y/N will give her that. She wanted to see how far Regina would go. Or if she would ever tell Y/N if she was gay or not.

Regina was at her breaking point. She had no idea what else to do. She had done all her usual tricks, but none of them were working on Y/N. The girl was like a brick wall. Nothing was getting through to her.

So, Regina did what Regina does best, she made a show out of it.

Boy, did it backfire on her.

She decided to confront Y/N during a passing period, towards the end of it. They both had a free period so it wasn't like they were running late to go anywhere.

"Why do you not like me?"Y/N looked at the blonde confused, closing her locker. "Excuse me?" Regina huffed. "Why don't you like me?" Y/N rolled her eyes. and started to walk down the now empty hall, Regina right on her tail.

"I never said I didn't like you Regina." Regina scoffed. "You don't have to say it. I already know, I just wanna know why." Y/N kept walking, ignoring the question. Regina had enough and grabbed Y/N's arm roughly, turning the girl around.

"Answer me!"

What happened next awoke something in Regina.

Y/N gently wrapped her hand around Regina's throat, squeezing gently. "I'm gonna have to ask you to remove your hand from my arm George. I never said I didn't like you. I know your tricks. But since you're so desperate, tomorrow, 8 o'clock, be ready because I'm taking you out."

Y/N released her grip and walked away from the shocked blonde. Regina stayed rooted to her spot in the hallway. She didn't know if she was horny or nervous. She simply collected herself, walked to her jeep, and drove home, skipping the rest of the day.

After a session with her vibrator, she realized that she was in fact horny and came to the thought of Y/N's hand wrapped around her throat again.

Laying in bed, extremely satisfied, she came to one conclusion.

She was in fact a bottom.

Her conclusion would be confirmed less than 24 hours later, when Y/N had her bent over in the back of her car, strap pounding her pussy until she saw stars.

#regina george x reader #regina george imagine #mean girls 2024 #mean girls imagines #regina george smut

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embrosegraves · 1 year ago

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𝕊𝕥𝕒𝕪 𝕀𝕟𝕤𝕚𝕕𝕖

(request) Fernando Alonso x Fem!Reader As much as he loves it, Fernando is a bit confused as to why his wife is refusing to let him go anywhere.

Warnings: none. maybe some spelling errors.

Fernando is, in the words of many, a certified DILF. He’s always had the attention of women his entire career, however lately he has become more and more popular amongst teenage girls. You couldn’t blame them, of course not. If you were a teenager still, you would be the exact same. Even now, his teenage fans considered you, his wife, as “one of them”. You had fun chatting and interacting with his fans on social media because you all agreed on one crucial thing. Fernando Alonso was hot as fuck.

One afternoon, you had been lounging on your couch and scrolling through tiktok. A lot of Fernando’s fans tended to tag you in edits they’d made of him. Clicking on the most recent tag, a video appeared of a girl who only just looked the legal age.

“This is a message for F1’s resident MILF, Y/n Alonso.”

She spent the next few minutes talking about different clothing trends that she thought would look nice on Fernando. One such trend was a formal suit without a shirt or vest. You privately agreed that he would look amazing, but the one that really caught your eye was the trend that went around a few years ago. Of men wearing light grey sweatpants. Of course you knew why the trend was so…big. It made you curious as to whether Fernando also had a pair of grey sweatpants.

Getting up from the couch, you decided that you would look through the wardrobe and have a look. If he did, you were going to have to try and convince him to wear them for you. For science. You started looking through all of his clothes and were a bit disappointed when you couldn’t find any. Being so deep in your musings, you hadn’t heard Fernando come back inside from his workout in the backyard.

“Hola, Mi Amor.”

Fernando laughed at the shriek that left your mouth. Turning around you started scolding him for scaring you, until you realised what clothes he had changed into after he showered.

The grey sweatpants you had been looking for.

Fernando had apparently not noticed your brain short circuiting. Your husband wasn’t always the smartest, but at least he was pretty. He continued talking to you, completely unaware of the effect his clothes had on you.

“I was thinking we should go and get some groceries later. Mama sent me the recipe for this bread I haven’t had since I was a child.”

“That sounds great, Guapo,” you said, shaking out of your stupor, “but I think I’m too tired to get groceries today. We could go tomorrow if you’d like?”

“I can always go by myself if you don’t want to, I don’t mind.” Fernando frowned a little. It was almost lunch time, how could you be tired still?

Frantically you shook your head. Snaking your arms around his waist, you looked up at him through your lashes.

“No, I want to go with you, tomorrow. When I won’t be as tired.” You gave a demure smile, really trying to discreetly convince him to stay home. You knew that if your reaction to seeing your husband like this — in the comfort of your own home — was this dramatic, the teenage girls on tiktok would go ballistic. You had to prevent that as much as you could.

Which is why you knew that Fernando would bend to your every wish if you looked up at him and bat your delicate eyelashes. Just as you predicted, his hands gently rubbed the length of your body.

He smiled at you and nuzzled his ever-growing stubble into the crook of your neck. “Okay. We’ll go tomorrow.”

“Can we lay down for now? At least until I need to make dinner.”

“We can do whatever you want, Corazón.”

Weeks later, Fernando had come home early from a race weekend. He hadn’t seen your car in the driveway so he assumed that you were either still at work (it was monday after all) or you had gone to the shops for something. The thought of being there for you to come home to, as you usually were for him, made him more giddy than he’d’ve liked to admit.

He had quickly taken a shower, putting on his most comfortable pair of grey sweatpants, and started to prepare a nice snack and drink for you. Just as he put the last thing on the plate for you, he heard your car pull up the drive. Excited to see you after so long apart, he opened the front door and started walking towards your car.

Still sitting in your car, you had been checking your phone when Fernando knocked on the driver's side window. Seeing him standing next to your car door, your eyes widened. You had immediately clocked onto the fact that he was wearing the sweatpants. Grabbing your things and opening the door, you got out as quickly as you possibly could.

“Welcome home, Mi Amo—“

“Get inside! Quickly!”

Fernando was confused. More confused than he had been a few weeks ago when you were too tired to go to the store with him.

“Why the rush?”

“No questions, just please go back inside the house!”

Despite knowing that you lived in a relatively private area, your neighbours usually stuck to themselves, you couldn’t help but worry that someone had gotten a picture of Fernando in his grey sweatpants .

Once you were both inside, Fernando sufficiently confused, you started to relax a little.

“Is everything okay Amor? Why were you rushing?”

You hummed. “Hmm? Oh, sorry I thought I’d seen some paparazzi. I was just a little worried.”

Later that same day, you were in your kitchen mixing yourself a cocktail to sip on while watching some TV. You could hear Fernando on his phone scrolling through his tiktok feed. Which would’ve been fine, if you hadn’t heard exactly what tiktok he was watching.

Fernando didn’t often get videos about clothes on his for you page, but he felt compelled to sit through a video that came up about possible outfits for him to wear. What had really gotten his attention was that the video had been addressed to you.

“This is a message for F1’s resident MILF, Y/n Alonso.”

He was intrigued so he continued to watch the video. it wasn’t until the girl started explaining the Grey Sweats Trend that he finally figured out why you didn’t want him going outside. Curiously, he checked the comments to see what people thought about the trends she pointed out, only to see that you had left a comment on the video yourself.

yn.alonso 🔵 I think I'm gonna gatekeep the grey sweats 🤭 fernandoFan14 creator I can't even be mad 🫠

Shutting off his phone he walked into the kitchen to find you humming to yourself. You had been trying to pretend that you hadn’t just heard what he was watching. You tried to continue making your drink as if nothing was suspicious but you had to freeze when Fernando wrapped his arms around your waist and pressed his whole body against your back. You didn’t often curse the height difference between the two of you, but with the way he was perfectly aligned with your backside, you couldn’t help it.

“Is everything alright, Cariño?” You asked, trying your hardest to ignore the way he was pressing and practically rubbing against you.

“I heard you were gatekeeping me from my fans.”

“Who said that?”

He chuckled. “You should know exactly who said it, Amor.”

He attached his mouth to your neck and started placing slow, open kisses all the way from your shoulder to behind your ear. You knew in an instant that it was going to be a long night ahead.

My mind has been so centred on ABIN that I've basically had writer's block for anything that isn't for that series, so I apologise for how long this request has been sitting in my inbox.

otherwise, I hope you all enjoyed <3

#formula 1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 fluff #formula one #formula 1 #fernando alonso x you #fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso x y/n #fernando alonso #fernando alonso fic #fernando alonso imagine #fa14 x you #fa14 x reader #fa14 fic #fa14 imagine #fa14

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 11 months ago

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The Quiet One 6

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You live a quiet life, but your peace is fractured by a chaotic man.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, short!shy!reader

Note: have a good day.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

“So, what do you think?” Lloyd asks as he turns to you, outstretching his arms as he gestures to the endless hangers. “All yours. You got your pick.”

You stand just inside the door of the walk-in closet. The space would take up at least half your apartment alone. You cross your arms as you glance along the rows of coloured fabric hung from the walls, organized in a perfect ombre effect of shades. On the far wall, there are shelves full of shoes and accessories, along with a vanity in the centre.

“I know you’re a simple gal,” he grins, “but you don’t have to be anymore. Whatever you want, ain’t no mountain high enough and all that.”

You nod and blow out between your lips. It all still feel surreal like a nightmare. You swallow and tamp down your discomfort. You didn’t hate the life you had. Your small apartment, manageable and tame. You prefer predictability, even if some might say it’s boring.

“Erm, I dunno,” you slowly trail over to the other side of the closet.

“Well, you could pick some shoes first. That might inspire you,” he suggests as he approaches you, “you don’t need to be too fancy, you know, you always look nice.”

“Mm,” you nod,” thanks that’s...”

You let the sentence hang. This is really freaking you out. Your chest feels tight and your head is buzzing. You shudder out a breath.

“What... what am I choosing for?” You croak.

“I told you, jellybean,” he puts his arm around you and pulls you against his side, “it’s a surprise.”

He reaches to grab a hanger and holds it out at arm’s length. A blush-coloured satin dress with a bit of frill at the bottom of the skirt. It’s nothing you would choose yourself.

“Sure, that’s nice,” you say, just to appease him. What else can you do?

“Hm,” he hums, “you don’t like it?”

“I didn’t say...”

“You don’t sound very excited,” he pouts as he turns to you, his hand lingering on your hip, “none of it? I got it all for you.”

“I’ll wear it,” you sniff, “I’m sorry, I’m just... I’m... adjusting.”

You don’t know how else to explain it.

He pushes his lower lip out and narrows his eyes, “sure, sure, makes sense.” He drags his hand off your hip and steps back, keeping the dress up as he angles it before you, as if he’s imagining you in it. “This is gonna look so hot, baby.”

You do your best to stay placid. It’s harder as you heart pounds furiously. You can’t even begin to guess what he has planned but with everything he’s done and said, you know exactly what his intent is.

“You should get washed up, huh? Then get dolled up. Like I said, won’t need much of that,” he winks, “you could walk in ass-naked and I’m sure you’d stun.”

You can’t help how your mouth slants at his remark.

“Alright, jellybean, let’s get you in the tub,” he lays the dress over the velvet bench and spins back, startling you as he grabs both hips and jerks you towards him with a growl, “can I watch? I promise, I’ll try not to touch. Yet.”

You clasp onto his wrists with a yelp. He curls his lips eagerly and you repress your horror. You don’t want to antagonise. You don’t want him to get any worse than he is.

“Um, did you want... to?” You murmur.

“Fucking of course,” he urges you against him, “the things I want to do...” he smirks, “I’m quaking in my boots.”

He bows to smother you with a kiss. His mustache pokes at your uper lip and up your nose as he hums and slides his tongue across your lips. You squeeze your mouth tightly shut but he pokes through, nearly choking you as he invades. You press your hands to his chest as he locks you into his embrace.

Finally, he part and you gasp for breath. He snickers as you puff against him. Your skin is crawling as you wriggle in his hold.

“Yum,” he purrs.

He lets his arms fall away and quickly snags your hand. You let him drag you around to the door, your feet hollow as they move without a thought. Resistance is plainly not a choice.

He takes you back into the adjoining bedroom, the one you awoke in, and through another door way against the perpendicular wall. He steps to the side as he tugs you forward and releases you. Your take in the sleek black walls and black tub, the silver shower head in a monochrome booth, and the ebon marble veined with sparkling white.

“I get it, it’s going to take a lot of getting used to,” he boasts, “this is our home, sweet cheeks. Remember that. You treat it like your very own... it is. Just like me, all yours.”

You pad slowly inside, if only to keep a distance from your captor. You won’t forget what he is. He can give you all the luxurious things but you remember the days of starvation, of terror. He can’t see himself for what he is but you do.

“Face masks, body scrub, bath bomb, shower gel, bonnet, robe,” he points at the fluffy purple robe still around you, “slippers,” he flicks his finger towards the mat beside the door, “lotions, creams, everything you can dream of. Oh damn, I can call a nail tech if you want a fresh mani--”

“Uh, no thanks,” ball up your fists, hiding your short-trimmed nails, “that’s not... that’s okay.”

“Only the best for you, kitty cat,” he says.

He strides forward and you flinch out of his way. He goes to the tub and cranks it on, water splashing out from the high faucet. He flips the silver lever to put the stopper in place and backs up.

“Voila, all for you,” he declares, “I’ll just...” he looks around and backs up to sit on the fluffy cushioned stools near the wall, “sit and watch. If you need help getting your back, I got you.”

He wiggles his fingers and gives a lecherous grin. You withhold a shudder and face the basin, the water battering the bottom. You step forward and peer down into the shallows. You clutch the front of the robe and peek over in his direction but not at him.

He waits, silently. You sway, squeezing the fluffy fabric as you peer back at the water. You don’t know if you can do it. Not with him right there.

“Whatsa matter, baby, you need help?” He shifts and you jolt.

“N-no, I just...” you look down at yourself and frown.

“Ah, you’re shy. I totally get it,” he coos, “you don’t gotta be though. Your beautiful, so you should be proud. Show it off, honey.” He clucks and shakes his head, “you know that’s the thing these days, all you girls, you’re so insecure, but you trust me, sweet lips, you got nothing to be insecure about.”

Your stomach flips. You feel hazy. You try to shrug it off and drop your hands to the belt of the rob. You untie it. You’re really going to do this. Why?

Because you’re afraid? Weak? Yep.

You shed the rob and look around. You hang it on the hook behind the door and return to the tub. It’s getting deeper and deeper. You touch the bottom of your shirt and scrunch it up in your fists. Just do it quickly and get in. He can only see so much from over there.

You pull your shirt off, nothing underneath. You push your pants down quickly, your underwear rolling down inside. The skin feels cooler then and tingles across your naked skin as you latch onto the tub and swing yourself over the edge. You barely get a foot under you before you submerge your body in the water.

You sit up, legs bent, stiff on the porcelain as the water continues to rise. It’s not quite at your chest yet. If you let it fill all the way, it might touch your chin. As you watch the depth climb, you don’t notice him until he closes. You slide to the back of the tub as Lloyd cranks off the faucet.

You notice how his eyes stray to you. Your legs stay bent in front of you, blocking most of everything. You shrink down, hunching your shoulders as he searches through the ripples. He tilts his head and cracks his neck as he exhales and backs away.

“Take your time, baby,” he purrs as he rubs his chest.

He sits again and you lower your head. You’ve never been this bare in front of anyone, rarely even yourself. You’re just not comfortable without some short of shield around you. Your eyes tinge with the threat of tears. You feel like you’ve been hit across the face. This is real. Really real.

Your eyes flick up and you reach for the purple scrubby on the little black shelf. You just have to get through it. That’s what you’ve always done.

👄

You stare into the open case. You’re not entirely unfamiliar with the concept of make-up. When you were a teen, you had a phase, and you’ve been to enough job interviews to wield a mascara wand. Still, the amount seems excess.

There’s almost every sort of product in every shade. Some sort of tap you don’t know what to do with, highlighter, and finishing spray. It’s too much. Your look is either a bare face or nothing at all. More often the former.

You fidget with a tube of lipstick, clicking the lid up and down. This is all so strange. What are you getting ready for? And why? This isn’t your home, this isn’t your life, and yet it’s all so perfectly planned.

“Honey bunnnnnn,” Lloyd’s timbre has you dropping the stick. He strides in, flustered, holding up two ties. He’s half dressed. A pair of red velvet pants and amber satin button up. It’s not a look you would go for. “What do ya think? Which tie? Paisley or the stripes?”

You shrug and shake your head.

He clicks his tongue, “genius, baby, genius. No tie. You’re right. Just the jacket.”

Your mouth falls open and you nod, “sure, yeah.”

You look back at the vanity and huff. Your face is untouched. You sit in your robe in the walk-in closet, mulling over your misery. Self-pity is as inescapable as these walls.

“What’s up, cheeks?” He asks, “you need some help? I’m thinking you could give a bit more colour to lips but keep the rest very subtle.”

He crosses the floor and hovers behind you. You stir around in the case and take out two bottles of foundation. You’ve never really used that either but the shades are pretty close. He lays the ties down on the vanity, brushing your back as he does, and pulls back to grip your shoulders.

“I tried to guess as best I could. Don’t know much about all that but the lady in the store was a blessing,” he massages your shoulders as he talks. You’re tense as steel. “But you know, you got perfect skin so...”

“Mm,” you put the foundation back and peruse the little shelf alongside the mirror. You reach for the moisturizer. Your skin feels raw.

“I like it, au natural. Touch of cream, little lash...”

“I’ll figure it out,” you grumble. He’s kind of annoying. No, he’s really annoying. All of this is annoying.

“Right, yep, I will get out of your way,” he bends and kisses the crown of your head, “lots of time.”

He strolls out and you scowl at the mirror. Something about him is getting to you. You’re not an angry person. You’re a nice person. You don’t go out of your way to be around others but when you are, you strive to be pleasant. Or at least, out of the way.

You spread the cream over your face, watching your reflection as if it’s someone else. Where did he come from? Why? This is some cruel trick because you only ever wanted to mind your business.

You cap the bottle and put the moisturizer back. You fish out a mascara stick and brush it on your lashes then find a neutral lip colour to put on. Nothing special, just like you. Hopefully he sees that soon enough.

You pack away the case and push it to the back of the vanity. You get up and go to the velvet bench where the dress lays. He’s plucked out a few things to go with it. A gold necklace with small diamonds speckled along it and a pair of beige heels.

You peek at the door before you untie the robe. You shiver as your fingers brush your stomach. You close your eyes as you recall how he wrapped you up in a towel after your bath. His touches were more than deliberate but his intrusive gaze made you squirm more.

You pull on the lingerie tucked under the dress. A thong. You’ve never worn one of those, and a satin and lace bra with no padding. Even as you pull the dress up your figure, you feel like you’re on display. You reach back, bending your arm until your elbow throbs as you push the zipper up.

“Need some help?” Lloyd’s voice makes you wince.

You sniff, “sure.”

You hold up the bodice as he approaches. You refuse to look back at him as he nears. He tickles along your spine with a single finger before he tugs on the zipper. He pulls it up little by little, until the fabric is snug around you. His fingertips drift down your back and he spreads his hands across your ass. You gasp.

Before you can step away, his hands glide around and he grabs you by the hips. He pulls you against him and rocks with you. He inhales your scent from above and sighs.

“Jellybean...” he almost sings, “are you...untouched?”

You lock up and grab at his hands, trying to free yourself.

“Is that why you’re so shy?” He snickers and spins you around, hands going to your waits, “I’m honoured to be your first.”

You gape at him, horrified. His intent hasn’t been hard to guess but said aloud, it is all too imminent.

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #the gray man #the quiet ones

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anonymous-dentist · 1 year ago

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A Very Long qRoier Theory

Okay so here's what I actually think, and TRUST THE PROCESS OKAY:

I think that Roier really was kidnapped by the Federation, but I don't think that he was taken because he was looking for Cellbit strictly because the Feds themselves are actually more or less actively searching for the missing islanders and hoping for their return so they can continue the murder investigation. Despite the terrible things going on, the Feds legitimately want all their islanders/lab rats back on the island so they can continue with whatever experiment they're holding. Every time Cucurucho has held a meeting recently, it's asked about the status of the missing islanders, so it really wouldn't make sense for it or the Feds as a whole to punish their one single lead in the case when every actual Federation agent assigned to the case has either come up with nothing or disappeared entirely.

Nah, I think Roier was taken because he was vulnerable and because the Feds figured nobody would've missed him. They know that he isn't really super close with anybody on the island but Cellbit, and they know that he's been actively pushing people away for a while now- basically since Bobby's death, and moreso since his return from Purgatory.

Looking at the QSMP channel's streams, particularly Elena's, we know that the Feds seem to be a pharmaceutical company. They, simply speaking, make drugs. Look at the "happy pills" that Elena helped create, this is what the Feds do.

Roier mentioned that he was drugged. He never said that they stopped drugging him. I think he's still being drugged and that he isn't a rat- not a literal one, anyway.

I think that Roier is still under the effects of the drugs he's being given because he is currently a test subject. He's a lab rat.... at the moment, anyway.

More on that later.

Do I have any evidence for this? Not really, but also some things just didn't add up cinematically. Like, okay, go back and watch everything from after when Roier 'wakes up' in the dungeon:

Everything's got this weird otherworldly fuzziness and glow to it. It's almost dreamlike in a way. Only the focus of the world is, well, in focus. The rest is blurred like a bad 3D movie:

There are all these weird cuts and jumps, too, like 11:16 when we suddenly cut to black for a few moments as Roier goes down the hallway, or 12:13 when we smash cut to the rat and 12:16 when we cut to Cucurucho. It's super sudden and jarring and it sets up a real nice feeling of unease (shoutout to ccRoier, this is SPECTACULAR)

And the music, okay, the background music is exactly the kind of shit you'd hear in a 'Dreamcore Music Video' on YouTube. It's super Backrooms, super weird esoteric vibes, and that's very on purpose.

None of this is real, and "Doied" is the final proof because like. He isn't real lol, if he's real then so is Roger, and the only times either of them front are when Roier's goofing around or when he's extremely homicidal (we saw Roger pretty recently, actually, back in October when he said that Cellbit killing everyone might be a good thing, actually.) Doied isn't like Abueloier or Melissa, he's one of Roier's 'alters', and he's a bit of a freak lol

I think about everyone can agree that this whole 'Ratoier' thing is a hallucination, but then we have to think, huh, what the hell does any of this mean?

First, we gotta follow the whole 'Roier is Currently Super Drugged' thing, because he is. He literally is. If he's not, well, laugh at me when the next tape comes out.

Roier is drugged by the Feds right now probably to test a new drug, possibly a drug meant to- just like the Happy Pills- make people happy again. In this case, however, I think that the pills may actually have something to do with memories, particularly the same memory retrieval stuff the Resistance did to Bagi. Because, well.

I want to go back to the rat, and I want to go back to Doied, because this stream actually implied a LOT about qRoier's character.

The thing about Doied is that he's the manifestation of Roier's "Um, actually!" Nerd Emoji self. He's a nerd. He's a loser with glasses and a nasty attitude.

Doied, in the dream, is a scientist. Doied, in the dream, performed horrible, inhumane experiments for the Federation. He put Roier's brain into a rat's, a lab rat's.

Once a long, long time ago in August, Roier quietly came to the realization that maybe he has a past history with the Federation and that's why Osito Bimbo has always been so weird about him- it basically had a crush on him for the first week or so of the island, and it still seems to, and he is still the only one outside of Foolish the Federation Employee to be addressed directly by his train ticket number: 0037. He brought up the possibility of being a Federation worker in the past to Cellbit, who brushed it off and said that he wouldn't care because he's a worker, too, technically, but what if it isn't a possibility?

We've always wondered how Federation workers end up the way they do. Why are they all the exact same type of bear? Why does only Cucurucho get to have a face and a voice? Why do they all have human minds and emotions? Why are they all dedicated to the Federation?

Easy. Because maybe they were people before, just like how Bagi and several other islanders think they are. But maybe someone put their brains inside of an animal's body- or, at least, inside of a worker's body, God only knows if they were actual polar bears at some point. Somebody had to help come up with that technology, and maybe it's the guy who managed to build an entire computer and radio-satellite setup over the span of about a week in his goddamn backyard without anybody knowing about it.

Roier has always had some weird connection with the Federation. He's the only civilian islander to ever be addressed by his ticket number, and later we find out that Foolish's ticket number- 0039- is his Federation Employee ID Number- W0039. He was Osito Bimbo's favorite for the first week on the island to the point of Osito just giving him whatever he wanted. He and Jaiden were paired up for the Egg Event (something that was intentional, btw, admin confirmed), and it's later revealed that Jaiden has a past with the Federation regarding the SMILE Units (aka Osito Bimbo and Cucurucho and the new guys.) The "Gods" (aka the admins) will happily follow him around and revive him when he's alone and strike him with lightning when asked and give him dirt and whatever. He managed to get someone onto the island from off of the island, Abueloier, and Abueloier was saved from the brink of death by the Federation in the Federation's hospital. His literal pet dog is a Federation employee. He got to name Jorgito the IV Drip.

Doied put someone's brain into the body of a rat, and Doied is Roier's nerd self.

I think that Roier may, in fact, have a past history with the Federation, and that it isn't because his grandfather worked/works for them. Maybe Roier did, just like he suspected months ago, and maybe he did some really bad things. But they were excused at the time because the people being converted into workers were bad people who made mistakes. Roier made the mistake of breaking the rules trying to connect with Cellbit, and so he got turned into a rat. There's been a functional prison on the island for long enough for it to be partially abandoned (see: Tazercraft Prison Stream.) Walter Bob was held there, possibly because he was part of the Resistance, or possibly because he wasn't done cooking yet.

Roier has always been a man of justice. When people do bad things, they get punished, and then things can go back to normal. He ruined Quackity's life. He wanted Slime to be properly punished for killing Tilin and he threatened to murder him when he tried threatening the kids. He built an entire torture dungeon in his basement for the explicit purpose of torturing Spreen to the point of death repeatedly and possibly for the rest of Spreen's miserable life. Cucurucho took Bobby away, and Roier said that the Federation would regret putting and keeping him on the island. Pozolito the Capybara blew Cellbit up, and Roier has literally tried killing every Capybara he's seen since. The Federation screwed with his family and with himself, and Roier is more than happy to join Cellbit in massacring the entire Federation.

He's a man of justice, but not of morals. He's a ruthless killer when it comes down to it, and he only shows regret when it comes to his husband's deaths during Purgatory. He doesn't fight unless he has to, but he's been thinking about killing everyone on the island since the first week of the server when he was betrayed. But, when it comes down to it, he doesn't actually want to hurt anyone he cares about. It's why Purgatory fucked him up so much.

His moral alignment actually matches up pretty well with several other Federation workers'- particularly workers like Elena and Fred who are nice but are willing to do terrible things in the name of their cause. The difference here is that Roier has had the same privilege that workers like Walter Bob and Ron got: he got a chance to socialize.

He doesn't have memories from before the island, but he remembers enough about his childhood to be a little suspicious.

But what if these drug-induced hallucinations are actually hints to Roier's backstory? What if it wasn't Doied running all these terrible experiments for the Federation, but it was Roier? Just a guy acting under the belief that he was making the world a better place, punishing criminals (aka rule breakers) while helping the Federation's cause: finding true happiness and spreading it to the world.

The Eye said that everybody in Purgatory was a sinner, and maybe Roier's sin was some mad scientist bullshit.

The dream today, Tape 1, had Roier being punished. Maybe it's because that's what he did as a scientist to new employees, or maybe it's because of his own guilt over everything he's done; remember, the reason he stopped smiling in Purgatory wasn't because he was killing his friends (because he's thought about killing his friends for a VERY long time), but it was because he killed Cellbit, and then it was because he left Cellbit behind to die. That's why the dream specified Cellbit's lost signal and not, say, Jaiden's, and it's why all the cool cinematic landscape shots focused on either Roier himself or Cellbit.

If my prediction is correct, Tape 2 would have Roger instead of Doied. So we'll see what happens then, I guess. Roger, who represents Roier's anger and his various homicidal tendencies.

Fit said that everybody was on the island for a reason, and Roier has been cooking for a long time now. Maybe qRoier is just like qJaiden: a former Federation associate.

TLDR; qRoier is currently hallucinating due to him being a Federation lab rat. His drug-induced dreams may be implying that Roier has a past within the Federation as a scientist completing the same experiments that "Doied" did in the dream to Roier.

But that's just a theory, a Game Theory. Thank you for reading.

#qsmp theory #qsmp #qroier #long post #guys idk if this makes sense #but it does to me!!!!!

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nerves-nebula · 5 months ago

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this gonna be a bitchy post lacking in nuance but who cares. im annoyed.

child predators and abusers will use literally whatever is most effective to groom someone, that's kind of the whole fuckin point. pointing out that they can use certain media to groom kids is like pointing out that you can drink liquids. like yea you sure can. you can groom a kid through their interest in sesame street. you can groom a kid with adventure time. you can twist even the most harmless story book with a Nice Upstanding Moral at the end into whatever you want.

when i was in high school I basically fell in love with any teacher that gave me food cuz i was fucking starving and that's a way more effective way to gain my trust than like, idk, sketchy fandom porn. (which i also loved as a kid/teen but I never really talked to people online or in person about it cuz i didnt wanna get adults in trouble!) and if someone online was weird to me back then i just ghosted them cuz i didn't have to exist in meat space with them if they made me uncomfortable.

anyway back to my point: should we ban granola bars cuz they were a way to fast-track the trust of food insecure kids? the way some of y'all talk about abuse, and grooming in specific is so frustrating, like, what are you fuckin talking about. grooming is a series of actions a person chooses to take to get what they want, it's manipulation, what they use to groom people with is entirely situational and moreover irrelevant.

should we all just sit in 5 x 5 cubes and paint neutral faces on a canvas till we die or should we try to have systems in place to prevent adults from gaining so much control over kids just by being kind of nice to them. and that's not even getting into how censorship literally never works the way you might want it to. it's impossible to create censorship that isn't inherently bigoted and useless because the only people with the power to properly censor are the people with the most power in general. and they do not like the rest of us. and they are also often on the side of abusers, if not abusers themselves!

yall will gives thousands of notes to posts that basically say they want the haze code back cuz you're too dumb and reactionary to think about fucking anything other than "child abuse bad so i guess i agree." then go patting yourselves on the back without having helped a single child.

yall love to feel vindicated more than you care about victims. don't act like anything you do is for the survivors if your focus is always on retribution or censorship against the abusers. you don't care about us. you don't remember we even exist half the time. none of you have looked into what actually helps us, none of you internalize our complicated feelings, none of you are willing to ease up on your christian ideas of sex and sexuality unless we explain our entire traumatic backstories to you. and then you say we're broken and need help, as if what we don't really need is for you to back us up or leave us the fuck alone.

none of you care. you just wanna find acceptable targets for your anger so you can feel good about destroying the Bad Person. dont piss me off

#nnstuff #rambling #csa tw #I KNOW IVE MADE THIS POST LIKE 5 TIMES I KNOW I REMAKE IT EVERY FEW MONTHS IM SORRRY #I JUST. i hate it....

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misc-obeyme · 2 months ago

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Could I request a short fic or drabble with Barbatos and a tall masc mc who’s taller than the entire cast + a little bit of an endearing asshole, at least to Barbs? Mc is a bit standoffish but he really likes helping Barbs with anything.

Hi there, anon! Sorry for the huge delay on this. I hope you still see it!

Not sure if I managed the "endearing asshole" thing, but I did my best! I wanted to put them in a setting where MC had a chance to help Barbatos out, so hopefully this is close to what you were looking for!

Barbatos x masc!MC (I think you could read it as gn but there is a use of "he" and the MC is crazy tall lol.)

Warnings: none~

You stood in the entrance of the Demon Lord’s Castle with your arms folded. You had been summoned to have dinner with Lord Diavolo, who was currently discussing something with Barbatos in hushed tones. You tried not to tap your foot impatiently as you waited for them to shift their attention to you.

When they finally did, Diavolo clapped his hands and grinned at you. “I’m so glad you could make it tonight, MC!”

He was almost as tall as you. Almost. It continued to be an endless source of amusement to him that you were taller than he was. His perpetual excitement was both annoying and slightly endearing.

“Did I have a choice?” you asked, your voice and expression somewhat monotone. You were carefully not looking at Barbatos.

“You always have a choice, MC!” Diavolo insisted.

“Right, sure,” you said.

“Barbatos is going back to the kitchen to finish preparing the meal,” Diavolo said. “You can wait with me in the dining room or you can accompany him. I’m sure he would appreciate your help.”

“Ah, that is unnecessary, young master,” Barbatos interjected.

Diavolo was grinning still. He almost exuded an aura of knowingness. He would probably wink at you dramatically except that it would be too obvious. He was scheming to get you alone with Barbatos. You considered saying you’d go with Diavolo to the dining room, just to throw him off. But you really did want to help Barbatos.

You turned to Barbatos. “It’s fine,” you said shortly. “I’ll help you.”

“I am perfectly capable-“ Barbatos began.

“I’m sure you are, but isn’t it nice that MC wants to help? You wouldn’t refuse him now, would you?” Diavolo asked.

You glanced at Diavolo to see a puppy dog look that made you roll your eyes behind Barbatos’s back.

Barbatos sighed. “Very well. Come along, MC.”

You didn’t mind leaving Diavolo behind, following Barbatos as he brought you into the kitchen. He put you to work immediately, stirring a delicious smelling soup of some kind. You didn't ask about it, mostly because you knew it would likely be full of odd Devildom ingredients that you weren't familiar with anyway.

The little Ds were scampering around here and there, being more of a nuisance than assistance. Barbatos took it all in stride, stepping around them deftly whenever he needed to. He moved through the kitchen by intuition and you thought he could probably do it in his sleep if he needed to.

After a little while, you looked over to see Barbatos frowning up at a high shelf in one of the cupboards. He wasn't attempting to get anything out of it, just contemplating it as though he was trying to decide the most effective way of getting whatever it was he needed.

You watched as he lifted himself on his tiptoes and reached up an arm. His fingertips brushed against a serving platter. It was leaning against a punch bowl and as you watched him try to inch it out bit by bit, you could see that the bowl would fall in a matter of seconds.

You left the soup and strode across the kitchen, catching the punch bowl before it could smash onto Barbatos's head.

Barbatos looked up at you, his eyes wide in surprise. "Oh," he said and the tone of his voice was weak. He was very close, your bodies not quite touching. If you simply turned a little, you would be pressed against him.

"Be careful," you said. You pushed the punch bowl back into place and retrieved the serving platter with ease.

You handed the platter to Barbatos, but didn't let go as he gripped the other end of it. "You should've just asked me to get it."

Barbatos blushed beautifully. "I didn't wish to trouble you."

You let go of the platter and returned to the soup. "It's no trouble. I… like helping you. With things."

You glanced over your shoulder to see Barbatos looking positively stunned. And then he smiled, sweet and delicate and full of a fondness you didn't often see directed at you.

"Thank you, MC," he said as he set the platter down and began to arrange food on it. "I will keep that in mind."

And he did, after that. You noticed when Barbatos always made an effort to ask for your help, even with simple things. And you were always rewarded with that gentle smile.

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

#I don't think I proofread this as much as I usually do #so please tell me if there's some kinda typo or something #obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me barbatos #om barbatos #obey me barbatos x reader #om barbatos x reader #x reader #misc writes

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toxicyeuriii · 4 months ago

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hii, could i request medicine pocket or horrorpedia (whichever you think is the most fitting for this) with a reader thats like a victorian era docter. I got this idea because like 98% of the characters are historical in some way and i also really just like history and such :3

Ooh hi anon! I really like this request... and thanks for asking!!!! And honestly this is genius tbh. But anyways, i saw this request before i went to school... so i couldnt really write on it soo... But i did 'study' a little but about Victorian doctors (i searched up what and how they where like and whatever)! Also i picked medpoc for this bc i didnt know how to write this w/ horro! Enjoy!

Warnings - none - medicine pocket x Victorian doctor reader, fanfic, medpoc is unhinged and reader is like 'what the', will probably be not accurate... reader is from the 1800's but then the storm happened so yeah...

☆ -----------------------‐-‐--------------------------- ☆

Your ways of... healing and health are controversial yet mostly effective you could say. Thats what you and medicine pocket have in common. Course, with your time at Laplace did change some of your ways, with less poisons, more anesthesia, and far more knowledge in the medical field, most learned from medicine pocket. Alas, you still cant let go of some of your practices of course! Those years of apprenticeship weren't for nothing!...

In order to course learn more about 'modern' medicine and medical practices, Laplace placed you with Medicine Pocket, which you have learned alot from your time with them, though it included alot of tests with your mineral poisons and such, they have some sort of fixation with testing with it... And so now you are way better at well healing without alot of death, but also with somewhat knowledge about whatever medicine pocket tests on and just shares with you. However, with your time with them, they do show... characteristics of that of a canine, but everytime you say something about it, they just tell you off....

----------

"Y/N-!"

Medicine pocket says while barging into your (newly acquired) medical office, looking quite happy yet smug. Seems like youre in for something, or they want something from you..... Oh well!

"Hm?... What is it?"

you say while continuing to work on filling up all of your medicines for patients, which they are mainly just arcanists from the foundation that got hurt during their line of work. Right now your office is all nice, clean and organized, lets hope that doesnt change....

"I was down at the pharmacy just to pick up a few things, and then I saw some sort of.... broach and it reminded me of you because your all... old fashioned, litterally.... so i took it and now its yours, congrats"

They say while sitting in your chair and kicking their feet up on your desk, like its their bedroom, and throwing the broach to you... Also... did they even pay!?

"Thanks, but didn't you pay the expense for the broach?... If not, you mus-"

"Shush!- I found it and so its mine, but now I gave it to you! Quit nagging-!"

"...."

They are most likely only doing this because they need something.

"What must you want?...."

"Oh wow, you hurt my feeling y/n, it was nothing, but since youre oh so generously asking, i supposeeee i do need something, just a little bit of sharponties for one of my... experiments!"

"I figured so...."

You say while sighing, going to your little bag thats full of necessities, pulling out a 'few' sharponties and handing them to the smug medicine pocket.

"Youre too kind y/n, you deserve a big ol' smoochy, doc"

They say while getting up to pat your shoulder ij a somewhat mocking manner.... or joking? You dont know, they are quite confusing to you sometimes.

"if you suppose so- Wait... What?"

They just chuckle while going to the exit in your office, leaving you dumbfounded.... They are always so forward...

"Oh yeah, come on, i also need you for the tests, i think they'll be quite..... intriguing if you will say....hehe"

"Oh... Alright...? I suppose?.."

You dust off your intricately designed medical attire and put down your things, including the broach, and head towards your door.... This will be something else, but maybe it will be.... intriguing as they said...

☆ -----------------------‐-‐--------------------------- ☆

Sorry if it isnt on point or reader isnt all victorian doctor like... But i did like writing this, so again, thanks for the ask anon! Also sorry if it isnt really all medpoc x reader.... I tried ^°^ But i hoped you liked it! Toodledoo!

#reverse 1999 #medicine pocket reverse 1999 #medicine pocket #medicine pocket x reader #medpoc ily #medpoc #medpoc x reader #re1999 #r1999 #R1999 medpoc #reverse 1999 x reader

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clockwayswrites · 1 year ago

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Masked

*cough* so... idk, writing muse possessed me? Was joking with Moku that Dick has so had sex with his domino on and this happened? Danny/Dick, no actually sex, but it's right after they talk about it blatantly and crudely.

“I can’t believe you kept your mask on the whole time,” Phantom said, tracing his fingers around the edge of the black domino.

“Secret identity,” Dick said with a laugh that he hoped sounded believable.

From the way Phantom’s brows furrowed together, Dick didn’t think he had succeeded.

Phantom kissed the corner of Dick’s mouth before he rolled off the bed, taking the blanket with him. “I know. But just seems, fuck, what’s that word? Disjointed? That’s not, it… whatever, I can’t be expected to think right now—”

“I’m surprised you’re even walking,” Dick said honestly and with a smirk. He rolled over onto his side to watch his teammate dig around in their discarded clothing.

Phantom flicked him off. “Seems at odds when we just fucked—”

“Several times.”

“Yes, several times. So it just seems at odds I guess to care about a mask when I’ve still got your cum dripping out of me.”

“None of the others would believe me that you’re so crude,” Dick said.

“I know,” Phantom replied with a fanged smile. “And stop it, I know that look. Down boy. I am fucked out. I’m going to go take a hot shower and go to sleep.”

“You could stay,” Dick offered, the words out of his mouth before he even realized he was saying them. He meant it though. “I’ll be good. No fucking. Just… you could take a shower here and stay. I’ll change the sheets.”

Phantom smiled at him, blanket and his effects clutched to his chest. There was a a somber edge to that smile that made Dick bite his lip and look away.

“That sounds really nice. But I think… the mask on and fucking is one thing. I get it. I get it and I enjoy it and I’m fine with it. But there’s too many secrets between us for me to have room to sleep on that bed with you, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, sure, of course, it was silly—” Dick stopped talking as Phantom rested a hand on his cheek. He looked up in time for Phantom to press another kiss to his lips.

“It was a sweet idea,” Phantom said, “Just one we can’t have.”

#dp x dc #danny/dick #death defying #masked

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havecourage-darling · 2 years ago

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Oh my gosh ok so I thought of something for Eddie and you don’t necessarily have to write it you totally can if you want but I was thinking about one of the kids like older siblings is at Lucas’s game supporting him and realizes that Dustin, Mike and Erica isn’t there. After she sees them all coming out of hellfire she gets a little disappointed with them (cause she’s kinda a mom friend) and like kinda gets a little snippy with Eddie (who has known about her but never met her) and is like you really couldn’t change the date for one meeting, this was important all the while Eddie is just standing there stunned with heart eyes

I don’t know why this just popped into my head but I had to tell somebody

A/N: First, I am so sorry for taking forever to get to this. Second, this might not have been what you had in mind but I hope you like it anyway anon! Third, this really didn't need to be this long but, yolo

wc: 3.5k

warnings: none

It was a bright and early afternoon when Steve Harrington’s bad luck streak had finally broken. You’d watched, hiding next to Robin in the documentary section, as Steve asked out the pretty blonde to the championship game. Robin inhaled sharply, expression twisting sympathetically, when blondie blinked at him for a beat but you knew. Steve was one of your oldest friends and despite abdicating the throne, you knew the effect Harrington had on a girl – as gross as he was.

“Holy shit, Harrington I can’t believe she actually showed,” you said out of the corner of your mouth.

It was a solid indication that Steve was actually more nervous than he looked because he hadn’t reacted to your teasing. Instead, he shot you a wide-eyed look and bobbed his head. “Right?” With an anxious swipe through his hair, he glanced at you.

Answering his non-verbal question, you nodded. “It looks perfect as always.” Steve’s hair barely obeyed the laws of physics. Blondie leaned across Steve and waved.

“It’s nice to meet you!” She beamed. “Are you a senior?”

“Oh no,” you said, “I’m a freshman at Indiana State. Go Lions!”

“That’s so cute!” She said and you furrowed your brows. Was it? You could tell she wasn’t being malicious but you weren’t sure where she was going with it.

“Yeah,” you said, laughing, “super cute!” Blondie laughed, hair shaking as she did and you glanced at Steve. Already knowing, he kicked your calf and you swallowed your own laughter.

Nancy pointed at the court, fingers splaying out and the photographer nodded, hanging onto her every word. Her head swiveled to the crowd and, somehow, she’d caught your gaze. Waving, smile broadening, she rolled her eyes when you waved back. You knew she missed Jonathan – he wouldn’t have needed her instructions and would’ve just known.

“Where’s Lucas?” You asked, trying to glance over the jumping cheerleader’s heads to get a good look at the line up.

Steve motioned to the end of the bench, where Lucas stood searching the bleachers in front of you for someone. You followed his lead and realized you couldn’t spot the familiar redhead he was undoubtedly looking for. Heart squeezing a bit, you knew the likelihood of Max showing up was close to slim. She’d retreated into herself after El had left and despite your weekly visits to her trailer – you didn’t want to push too hard.

“Wait,” you said, mostly to yourself, “where’s Dustin?”

Searching out the familiar set of curls, you felt panic start to climb up your spine. Where was Mike? Steve’s warm hand grabbed at your wrist and pulled you to the surface. “What’s wrong?” He asked, his own voice anxious.

“The guys, Dustin and Mike, they’re not here,” you whispered, “what if something happened to them?”

Steve’s furrowed brows smoothed and he exhaled. “Oh, don’t worry they’re fine. I think they had their little game finale or whatever tonight. Henderson tried to rope me in as a substitute for Lucas.”

“Substitute?” You echoed, forcing a wide smile onto your face when Lucas saw you and Steve. His entire expression shifted, excitement and relief at the sight of you two. You waved, lifting your small sign that Robin had helped you paint.

‘DUNK IT! GO #8!’

Lucas beamed at you, waving wildly up at you two. Steve shot him a thumbs up before he started some drills.

Dustin and Mike wouldn’t have ditched Lucas’ game for a campaign, would they? Especially knowing that he’d already be hurt at the fact that Max wasn’t going to show up. No…a flash of long curly hair scampered across your mind. The leader of their new club…the guy Steve was obviously jealous of. Eddie Munson, you snapped your fingers, remembering.

Dustin had shown you photos of the club that Nancy had taken, a proud beam across his face. You knew Dustin was just excited to have more friends but, to give Steve some credit, he did talk about Munson an awful lot. You still hadn’t met him, but you had a brief memory of seeing him in the hallways sometimes, hair much shorter.

But you knew, then, if Munson had refused to move the campaign – there was no way Dustin or Mike would stand up against him. Especially not out of fear that they’d be kicked out the club. It was all they talked about. Shit, you’d driven Dustin to the town over so he could find just the right color for his figurine.

Lucas glanced up again, gaze desperate, and your heart broke.

“Everyone now please rise for our national anthem. Singing for us tonight, we have a very special guest tonight. All the way from Nashville, our very own – Tammy Thompson!” Your jaw dropped, exchanging gazes with Steve before you both whipped around to find Robin.

Shocked, you watched dumbly as Tammy strutted up to the mic and started to sing off key. Robin’s eyes were wide and you heard Steve mutter, “Muppet.” You couldn’t hold back your laughter, Brenda turning to look at you both at the sound.

“Wow, she sounds amazing, doesn’t she?” She asked, tone awed.

Steve’s hand gripped your wrist tightly, both of you clearing your throats in a desperate attempt not to laugh.

You watched Lucas’ leg shake as he stood near the benches, teeth sinking into his bottom lip. He was nervous. Your chest tightened. Please let him play. You plead the universe, crossing your fingers. He needs a win.

/////

“I can’t believe it,” you said, getting choked up again. Lucas beamed under everyone’s attention, but you tucked him into your side, arm squeezing his shoulders. “Lucas, you were amazing!”

“Thanks,” he said, grinning when Jason Carver shoved him excitedly. ‘Party at Benny’s boys!’ The group of morons shuffled off towards a nearby car and you rolled your eyes. Lucas caught your half-scoff and winced. “I know you don’t like them…”

“Hey, whoever you hang out with is not my decision, just – be careful, yeah?” You glanced after Carver and remembered what it was like being in Lucas’ place. “That crowd tends to want to mold you after them and you’re already your own person. A person I really like. Don’t let them try to shove you into some cookie cutter box.”

Lucas smiled, pleased, and looked down at his sneakers. “Thanks. It…really means a lot to me that you guys showed. I know you go to everyone’s stuff, you and Steve, but-”

“Hey, you’ll always have me in your corner, all of you do,” you assured him, your mind drifting to the rest of the party. Will would’ve showed, you thought, smiling at the reminder of the weekly call you had coming up.

Before either of you could say anything else, a loud crash caught your attention.

You watched a group of people rush out the double doors, excited and laughing with each other. Easily picking out Dustin’s curly hair, you glanced back at Lucas’ frozen expression.

Emotions flashing, you opened your mouth to try and do damage control but one of his teammates smacked into his side. “Sinclair, come on! You’re riding with us.” Lucas’ expression pulled into a smile quickly, but it was too late. You’d seen underneath it. Anger building in your chest, it bubbled to the point of discomfort.

Placing your hands on his shoulders, you shook him. “Do not drink and drive, Lucas Sinclair I’ll rip your spine out – you hear me? And don’t take any pills,” you said, shooting him a withering glare. His shoulders were still slumped but he nodded, his smile half-hearted. “Alright, if you need me for a ride or for help, you call me.”

“I will, thanks…for coming,” he said slowly, jogging off without a second glance. Making sure he’d disappeared around the corner towards the other jocks, you whipped around on your heel and stomped over to the loitering group.

As you got within earshot you saw Mike’s eyes drift over to you. He smiled, hand coming up, but immediately froze when he saw your expression. “Oh fuck,” he muttered, and Dustin stopped his excited jumping just in time for you to punch him in the shoulder.

“Ouch, what the fuuu- oh, hey there Widow,” he smiled, a little confused, “what are you doing here?”

///

Eddie raised his brows, watching Dustin stumble as you punched him in the shoulder. Wincing, he knew that had to have hurt. He’d almost instinctually stepped in but Henderson’s expression brightened, smile widening, and he figured you were safe enough.

“Shit,” Eddie heard Mike mutter, watching him take a step behind Dustin at the sight of your furious expression.

“Hi Widow,” Erica said, expression lighting up when you paused your anger and shot her a smile.

Ah, so this was the infamous Widow. Henderson and Wheeler had nothing but praises for Harrington and you. Eddie knew Harrington, because who didn’t? He had his reservations but Eddie was nothing if not fair. He’d save them for the moment he actually met King Steve – not that he thought that would be any time soon. But you? He’d heard all about you.

“What am I doing here?” You echoed, one of your hands dropping, the other flying through the air. “What the hell are you doing?”

Eddie was a little surprised with how intrigued he was.

Dustin looked back at Mike, surprised to see him so far away. “Uh, we had a campaign. Oh, this is Eddie!” Dustin’s hand came out towards Eddie – who waited less than a millisecond to step forward.

“If I may,” Eddie started, wanting to make a good impression on Dustin’s hot friend. How the hell did Henderson even know you?

You, however, barely spared him a glance. “You may not,” you snapped, turning back to the boys. Eddie’s voice died in his throat, blinking at how easily you’d dismissed him. Interest flared to life in his chest, because of course it did. “What the hell guys? You missed the championship game?”

The newfound interest waned. Ah, you were jock. He probably didn’t recognize you because you’d run with the popular crowds. Especially if you knew Harrington.

Dustin and Mike, however, withered like plants who’d been kept in the shade for too long. “It was The Cult of Vecna!” Dustin said, voice going high. Eddie’s eyes darted over to you, where he watched – fascinated – as your eye twitched.

“I don’t care if it was the goddamn reckoning. We don’t abandon our friends! That’s the first rule of the party!” You shouted.

“Actually, the first rule is no girls,” Mike muttered and you turned your sole attention onto him and he winced. “Not that – we’re not…happy to have you. Of course we are! You’ve been there since the beginning almost. And Nancy. And Robin. Obviously. But this campaign has been going on for weeks and and and…we couldn’t postpone! We tried!”

Eddie watched you soften and his interest reared its head again. You had a soft spot for the freshmen. Why?

“You knew Max wasn’t going to show,” you said, quieter, “you knew how important this was for him.”

The guilt that shot across their faces was clear. “He was going to be on the bench!” Dustin said, hands coming up.

Anger flickered to life in your eyes again. “Yeah?” You asked, tone incredulous. “Well, he shot the winning basket. You should’ve seen his face when he looked up and saw you guys weren’t there.”

Dustin and Mike ducked their heads, expressions sheepish, and Eddie was impressed. You really were laying it on thick.

“I’m not mad,” you said, and Eddie could see you rearing back for the killing strike, “I’m just really disappointed in you two.”

Their shoulders slumped, eyes on the floor, and Eddie couldn’t help but whistle. You were playing them like a fiddle. Unfortunately, it seemed to catch your attention and your sharp eyes turned to him.

“And you!”

Eddie pointed at himself, taking a small step back now that your fury was turned to him. “Me?” Interest shot down his spine. Jesus, what was with him with the hot and scary ones?

“What the actual fuck is wrong with you? I know campaigns take time to plan out, I know that!” Eddie blinked, caught off guard at the respect he wasn’t expecting. “But he’s a kid, they’re all kids. You couldn’t have moved it twenty-four hours so that they could go watch his game? Out of what? Jealousy? Some sort of misguided pettiness because the popular kids were mean to you? They’re mean to everyone! That’s what they do! They almost broke my nose senior year. Instead of teaching them to rise above it, you stoop to their level? Ugh, grow up. God, this whole town is such a cliché!”

Dustin looked panicked, Mike had a hand over his eyes, and Gareth turned to him, eyes wide and jaw dropped. Eddie was also shocked, not sure where to start. “I think-”

“Seriously,” you snapped, talking over him again, eyes lighting up with an anger that was most appealing. The flash of your eyes reminded him of a harpy – in the most flattering of ways. In fact, Eddie’s knees went a little weak, his chest unfurling with something that was way too close to blatant interest.

Oh, who was he kidding? He’d give all his month’s tips to be able to sink his teeth into the tendon by your neck. It strained at him, taunting him, as you heaved a guilt trip onto him. Unfortunately for you, he was immune to them. So, it left him a few seconds to drag his gaze up and down your body.

“Can I speak now?” He asked, not wanting to interrupt another tirade, he was getting fond of those at this point.

You inhaled deeply, fingers coming up to pinch the bridge of your nose. “Yes.”

“Why do they call you Widow?” He asked. “Is it because you like spiders?”

If you did, he wouldn’t mind, Eddie decided. He wasn’t particularly fond of them himself but he was also an acquired taste so what did he know?

The withering glare you shot him went straight to his chest and curled around his ribcage. Eddie rubbed his sternum, like that could stop the ridiculous seed of interest from planting itself deep within his skin.

“No,” you said, offering no further explanation. “Why do they call you the Freak? Is it because you’re really Satan Worshippers?”

The way your entire face twisted with regret, and guilt swam into your eyes, Eddie knew you hadn’t meant it. In fact, he already felt a smile growing at his lips.

“I’m sorry,” you said immediately, “that was a low blow, I’m just – no, it’s no excuse. I know you get shit from other people. You don’t need it from me, especially not since I know it’s not – it’s not that.”

Instead of ducking down to look at the floor, you met his gaze straight on for the first time since stomping up to the group of them. Eddie sighed and you’d clearly taken it as a reaction to your barbed reply because you began to wring your hands together. In reality, Eddie wanted to slap his stupid chest. He always did this.

Barely five minutes had passed and the interest dug deeper and rooted around for its new home. The vines grew, twirling around his veins, and reaching towards his chest. Heart, already on his sleeve, skipped a beat as you offered up a sincere apology, Eddie nodded. “No harm done,” he said, seizing the chance to bow, “Eddie Munson at your service. Atheist by the way.”

You nodded, quickly skirting your gaze back to the two boys but Eddie was stunned into silence when he caught the flash of interest in them. Was he still high on the success of the campaign or were you actually glancing back at him?

“I hope you know how shitty this was, Steve had a date and he brought her here instead of missing it,” you said.

Dustin snorted. “Steve’s just cheap and wanted an easy date night.”

Eddie saw you bite your cheek and he winced, knowing it must’ve hurt. You made a valiant attempt to hide it, but the laughter had already made it to your eyes. It softened your face entirely and his heart stirred awake. Jesus, what magic did you wield that you had captured his attention so thoroughly?

“Still,” you insisted, one last glare at them. Turning to Erica she glanced up at you, smile crooked and you softened. Lifting your arm, she scurried over to you and you draped it across her shoulders. “I won’t even waste my breath trying to straighten you out. You want a ride home?”

“Thanks Widow,” she said, lifting her nose up at the other two. You must be the real deal if you had little Sinclair’s approval. He’d met her a few hours ago even Eddie knew she was a tough nut to crack. Clearly, not for you.

Mike, proving he’d lost most of his brain power during the campaign, stepped forward to follow and you shot him a glare that had Eddie wincing “Uh, no. My offer extends to her only.” He frowned and Eddie heard a very Jeff sounding laugh.

You started to walk away, and Eddie’s eyes dipped – he couldn’t control it! - when you stopped and sighed a few feet away. Eddie startled, eyes raising quickly from your ass to your eyes and winced when realizing you had your gaze directed at him. Eyeing him, Eddie felt his neck flush as your eyes trailed up his body. What the fuck? Since when did he get shy?

“Can you give them a ride home?” You asked. “It’s dark and I don’t want them riding their bikes alone.”

They two started to protest, glancing at Eddie warily, but another glare from you shut them up. Eddie was about start a tirade, asking what it was in for him – a date he hoped – when you spoke up again.

“Please,” you said, barely audible. Eddie was helpless to do anything but nod, fingers itching to see if he could play you as well as his guitar. He just needed a chance.

Somehow, his brain spurred to life before he realized. “Yeah, Widow,” he said, barely containing the urge to fist pump at the sight of your small amused smile, “I can get the nerds home.”

“Hey!”

Eddie was wholly unprepared for the grin that you shot at him. If your fury had sparked interest in him, your smile almost made his knees give way. Bats fluttering around in his small intestine, wreaking havoc, he managed to smile back at you.

“Thanks Munson,” you said, disappearing into the crowded parking lot after one last look.

No one spoke for a moment, the air stilling as Eddie reeled from the way his entire world had shifted in two seconds.

“I’ve never seen Eddie blush,” Dustin whispered loudly.

At that, Eddie snapped. “I’m not blushing!”

“Are you really going to give us a ride?” Wheeler asked meekly, eyes going towards the bike stand.

Eddie nodded. “Yeah, I’ll give you a ride, hurry up.” He’d use this to his advantage. He knew his chances were slim to none but even he wasn’t that stupid to not even try. “So, what’s your hot friend’s deal?”

The two idiots groaned, face twisted into disgust, but Eddie ignored them. He wanted to know everything he could about you.

///

“Stop moving so much!” You hissed, anxiety practically spilling out of every pore in your body.

Eddie whined, his nose scrunching as he shut his eyes tightly. “I’m just so itchy,” he complained, the skin around his bandages bright red.

“They come off soon, just wait a little bit more,” you said, gesturing to the doctor’s office you were currently in. “We’re next I think.”

Grunting, Eddie threw his head back and winced when it collided too loudly with the wall. You rolled your eyes and brought your hand up to check for a bump. “You’re a child.”

Sticking out his tongue, he leaned into your touch like a puppy and you rolled your eyes. You’d known him less than a month but just like Robin – trauma bonded people faster than most things.

“I can see your fingers,” you said, smacking his hand away from the larger bandage by his clavicle. The demobats had really done some damage but you’d been there when the ER doctor had clearly said to keep the stitches dry, clean, and intact. “You’re gonna make it worse!”

“Distract me, please, I feel like I’m going to crawl out my skin,” he begged.

Without thinking twice, you pressed your lips to his for a second. You bit back your smile as he blinked at you, eyes glazed over. “Was that enough of a distraction?” You asked, smile threatening to break through.

“Uh, I might need a second try to make sure,” he said faintly and you only just managed to not smack his shoulder.

“Pervert.”

Eddie’s brows flew up into his overgrown bangs. “Who just kissed who?”

You hummed, ignoring him, and went back to flipping through your magazine.

“Can I ask you something?”

Pulse pounding, you kept your eyes on the article in front of you. “What?”

“Why do they call you Widow?” Eddie asked, surprising you.

Glancing at him from the corner of your eye, you shrugged. “Dustin started it,” you sighed.

“He always does,” Eddie said, smile growing wider.

“After Natalia Romanoff. The Black Widow?”

“The spy and assassin?”

“Yeah,” you smirked, memories flashing through your mind, “I was really good at killing demogorgons. Plus, once actual Russians joined the picture, even I couldn’t deny that it was kind of perfect.”

“Cool, my girlfriend’s nickname is after a Marvel superhero.”

The word girlfriend brought your brain to a sudden halt and you whipped around to look at him. He was grinning, eyes mischievous, and you sputtered.

“Edward Munson?” A nurse called out. “Follow me.”

“Come on,” Eddie said, threading your fingers together. “We’ll talk about where our first date will be on the ride home.”

First date? You blinked at him, letting him lead you towards the exam room.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #tumblr requests

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tyttamarzh · 1 year ago

Text

Just some late night thoughts.

For some reason January 21 is a special day in many ways for Missa Cubito…

21 de enero de 2023

Missa death in MCExtremo. In that series he had great character development, at first he was just a scared baby who didn't know the world, everyone had to take care of him, because with the slightest carelessness he would die (literally, they were distracted for a second and Missa looked at an ender and died, because he "did not know what it was"). He spent the first few days very scared, locked up at home, until after dying and reviving due to a bug, he decided that it was time to live that life to the fullest and decided to leave his crib and go out to face danger. He learned to fight being trained by none other than Spreen and Shadoune, learned to water bucket clutch with Rubius and became brave when facing mobs (sometimes recklessly). His new way of approaching life scared Q (it even cost him a life to him to this one) but for Missa it was very effective, because after losing practically 3 lives in 2 days being a scared guy, he managed to survive until day 5 with his brave attitude (even if he survived that day, he was able to reach the final) he was so full of confidence when fighting and decided that now that he was no longer the smallest of the team he was going to protect his friends, especially Q, who was the fearful one of the group now… and that's how he took too many risks and ended up dying, being something very shocking not only for his team but for everyone in the series and for the viewers, really, Twitter was flooded with fanarts and people crying about his death (even Missa said that an aunt called him because she thought something had happened in the real life).

That was very important because before that series almost no one knew Missa Cubito, he was just "the guy who died too quickly in Dedsafio" or "The funny guy who hopefully managed to get too far in siqud craft games". But in those 5 days (5 days of consecutive streams, it was heaven for the missaurios), he won over the internet with the story of his growth and death (Even today people say that the best thing about that series was having the "team vacio legal" and Missa was the heart of that team). I think that was the moment when Missa cubito separated from Missa Youtuber and became her own character.

But that was a sad day, because that day Missa Cubito lost the first family he had found.

This was the moment he died, fighting like a warrior:

January 21, 2024

Llegamos al día de hoy.

Missa wakes up in the QSMP prison and reunites with his family, it was the first time that Missa, Philza and Chayanne were together at the same time since April. Not only that, but he now officially adopts Tallulah as his daughter. Despite the adverse circumstances, his family has finally been reunited and grown (although Missa already considered Tallulah his daughter, now it is official and she calls him dad).

Despite being another universe, Missa is still the kind boy who wins everyone's hearts. Missa behaved politely with the guards, being mannerly when referring to them by saying "please and thank you" and greeting everyone very kindly.

He was very nice with the eggs, even with the ones he didn't know, and he refused to hit Dapper even though he was hitting him, Missa just said: "I'm never going to hit you or do anything to hurt you."

Missa was very happy to spend time with Phil, when he spent a long time losing sight of him, he would ask where he was and look for him.

The moment of the kiss (or the kisses) was something WTF I really didn't think that one day they would kiss and definitely I imagined many scenaries, but in no way I believed it would be that way, but that's what makes it special. They are not an ordinary couple, whether platonic or whatever they called it, whatever they have is special and I guess that was a special way for it to happen. Phil probably would never have dared to ask him to kiss him in another context and that's fine, because it seems like that would be the only way for it to happen (even if they both wanted it, I don't think it would have happened in another context).

It is worth mentioning that the moments of Philza being jealous and him reaffirming that he was married and being loyal to him was something I really didn't expect. After so much time apart, they still have that unique dynamic.

The day in prison was filled with so many things, but I can say that for the first time in a long time, Missa felt fully loved, not only by being with his children and his husband, but also by all those friendly interactions he was with others and that he could not have before on the island, because the first days he was extremely shy and did not separate himself from Roier and the friends he knew and after he only connected sporadically, meeting Foolish, BBH and rarely Philza.

Something curious that Missa Himself mentioned was that the previous times he was with Phil it was more of "ohh I miss you" but they didn't amount to anything more and today he was very happy because they were able to hang out together and do more things bonding with his family.

When he and Chay freed the turtle it was adorable, then the 4 of them doing the tasks, that was a unique moment and he was very happy singing for his family (being so nervous that he forgot the words to his own songs).

His bond with Phil strengthened and they didn't have to do much, that simple moment of the two of them talking about tacos and memes was something very cozy that they needed to do a long time ago. Just as the moment when they took the children for a walk with the llamas was something so sweet for this family that they almost forgot that they were in a prison, because it seemed more like a picnic in the park.

It really was a great advance, probably what happened today will help Missa a lot to grow and leave his self-esteem problems behind. He is important, he is loved and he is useful to his family.

Missa was a trend today, as it was last year, but the big difference is that this was a happy day because somehow, today he got his family back, that big family that he hadn't had in a long time and that he wanted so much and deserved.

The parallel of how he left today:

He is happy, laughing with his husband and children :')

#qsmp #deathduo #pissa #qsmp missasinfonia #missa #philza #missasinfonia #chayanne the egg #tallulah the egg #death duo #death family #Missa is with his family and I am so happy!!!!#january 21 #Minecraft Extremo Missa's death

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