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#and was out of the braces and glasses phase
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When I tell you that these boots have seen some shit....
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art · 5 months
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Creator Spotlight: @themetalhiro
Hi, I’m Metal! I’m a freelance artist from good ol’ New Jersey. My favorite things to work with are a lot of bright colors, exaggerated poses, and candid scenarios. I try to farm sensible chuckles whenever I can, so I’m also big into comics. I love making them about my life, and the media I’m into, and one day I’d like to publish my own series!  Thank you to everyone who has gotten me this far!!
Check out Metal's interview below!
Did you originally have a background in art? If not, how did you start?
I guess so! It’s funny, I don’t remember a single time in my life that I wasn’t drawing as a hobby… somewhere in middle school (a little late, I know.) I put the pieces together that animated movies were made by artists, and that it wasn’t just for fun, they were paid to do it. The moment I discovered people could be paid to make art, I decided I would do that, too. Now I’m here!
How has your style developed over the years?
I think the best way to answer this would be with an example! Over the last few years, I have made more of an effort to draw more intentionally, which sounds silly. Now, I put more thought into my poses and step out of my comfort zone with shape language and composition. I had a phase where I drew everyone with a huge, perfectly circular head and no nose. That definitely did not lend much variety...
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Which 3 famous artists (dead or alive) would you invite to your dinner party?
Ack! I’m so terrible at history! I’d love to give a well-thought-out answer about fine artists of old, but I don't think we’d have much in common… Most artists I admire and who have driven me forward creatively are the people behind comics I’ve read. Andrew Hussie, Bryan Lee O’Malley, Eiichiro Oda... these guys have inspired me greatly and had a heavy influence in developing my art style and sense of humor. I’d love to ask them questions about their processes and upcoming projects. I think it would make for an entertaining night!
Over the years as an artist, what were your biggest inspirations behind your creativity?
Outside of pure aesthetics like searing bright colors, layered clothing, and loud noises…. the best and most inspiring moments in my life were those surrounded by friends and loved ones! I cherish the hell out of memories of hanging around in fun locations, trying weird food together, and impromptu midnight walks... so I try my best to capture that atmosphere and my own memories in my work when I can, even if I’m imposing fictional characters on top of them. That’s always the core of it.
What is a medium that you have always been intrigued by but would never use yourself?
I would never permanently refuse a medium, but every time I pick up clay, I’m like a baby using its hands for the first time. Absolutely dreadful. If one day I could make and paint a figurine like the ones I admire in videos, that would be awesome... But for now, I’m not counting on it.
How do you want to evolve as a creator?
I’ve had an absolute blast drawing fanart over the years, and it’s certainly played a massive role in my growth as an artist. But my dream has always been to publish my own stories for y'all to enjoy! I have lots of worlds I want to introduce to you before I’m old and gray. I want to get faster, work harder, and get better at drawing interesting settings so I can get the wheels turning as soon as possible. I also want to stop avoiding the color blue like a coward.
What do you wish you knew when you first started out creating art that you know now?
Pay your taxes quarterly. Tablets will break at the exact moment you need them most, so have a spare. Wear your blue light glasses. You’re going to need to wear a brace on every joint on the right side of your body. It can be lonely sitting at your desk all day. The car on the side of the road that costs $1000 cash….. don’t trust it!!!
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Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?
@cranity—They use absolutely beautiful colors and weighty line work. Everything looks so sharp and clean! I wanna put it all up on my wall!
@vewn—Their ability to crank out quality short films and illustrations packed with detail is incredible. The off-kilter perspective they use really sells disorientation and catches your attention like nothing else.
@nelnal—They have absolutely banger character designs again and again, I can’t believe one person’s mind can come up with so many creative ideas!
@jinx88kc—They have a beautiful and recognizable style, and the way they incorporate animation into their illustrations sometimes is SO cool!
Thanks for stopping by, Metal! For more of Metal’s work, follow their Tumblr, @themetalhiro! If you haven't seen their Meet the Artist piece, be sure to check it out here!
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scremogirl · 1 year
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✪⁂✫彡𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓✵✥☆ミ★ ???
𝐀𝐛𝐨𝐯𝐞-𝐀𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞
Yandere Student Council Pres x Nonchalant reader
I’m not sure if I should retitle this to Yandere! Childhood friend x reader or not. There’s not a lot of the fact he’s the SCP shown in the story. I felt like I went a little off track. I got so consumed in writing😭. I already have a post like that on my page so I didn’t want to make it confusing. I don’t know if I should’ve said unemotional reader either. Idk let me know what you think. Have fun reading!
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He was at the top of the food chain. Good grades, teachers liked him, students feared him, rich, good looking, and most importantly; the student council president. With that being said, why wouldn’t he leave you alone?
Takenya was a stuck up priss in your opinion. Always lecturing you about things you could do in order of improvement. You weren’t popular but you weren’t one of those weird Naruto kids that sat in the back of the class and ate crayons either. You just existed. Someone so average at everything somehow attracted the most “perfect” guy in school. Your grades were fine; a straight A-B student with the occasional C here and there. Your attendance on the other hand… well maybe he’s not so wrong about that, but who actually wants to be at school anyways?
“I don’t understand why you don’t try harder? You could easily surpass most of our class,”
“You need to come to school. This behavior would never pass in the real world. What would your employer think of you just not showing up?”
“Chocolate for lunch…really? If you want to stay healthy you’ll need to-“
Why does he care so much anyways? Sure, you used to be friends in like what, fifth grade? You used to get bullied in school for being different. You just didn’t like the things that kids your age were supposed to like. But… it never bothered you. You weren’t emotionless per se, it’s just, why care what others have to think?
Mellisa Grey. The girliest of all girls. She used to have it out for you when you were younger. Calling you names and bumping your shoulder whenever you walked by. You put up with it until the end of the year; fifth grade graduation. That evening she and her crew thought it���d be funny to pour milk on the shy little nerdy boy in your class. Some spilled on your dress, that you didn’t mind, but the tears of the boy next to you made you. Something inside of you just snapped. You shot up from your seat grabbing a first full of her hair and slammed her head onto the wooden table. Not stopping until you saw the wire of her pink, sparkly braces fly out her mouth. Well, that was what you wanted to do; the teachers came too early for you to inflict any further damage. The most you got was a broken nose and a lawsuit. She transferred schools after that, and you got the whoopin of a lifetime. You didn’t care. You didn’t feel bad at all. If anything you felt elated seeing her in pain and the rage on her parents faces as the cussed child you out. You didn’t cry or yell when your parents picked you up. You weren’t phased by the belt or the palm of your mothers hand striking you. You didn’t feel anything. So why were you so upset on someone else's behalf anyways?
You knew this kid. I mean, how couldn’t you when he would follow you around 24/7.
“H-Hi… my names Takenya” you just blankly stared. His sheepish gaze barely meets yours from behind his big fat glasses.
“…Do I know you?”
“Well…no. But I know you!”
“Good for you I guess.” You continued to go back and forth on the swing, not acknowledging the boy's existence at all. The swing he sat on remained stationary, never once dropping his gaze from you.
“Uhm… I just wanted to thank you for yesterday,” Hm? What was he talking about? He saw the confusion in your face when you turned around to ask and beat you to the point.
“You probably don’t know me. We’re not in the same class,” Right. So why is he talking to you? Again, before you could ask he cut you off.
“The other day when recess started you helped me pick up all of my stuff after Carter pushed me down; remember? I-I just wanted to say thank you for sticking up for me” Ohhh, you do remember him now. He was that shy little rich kid that transferred here at the end of fourth grade. He didn’t have many friends, let alone any at all. Everyone had grown up with each other and formed friend groups at this poin. He was a little late to the party so he didn’t fit in. He wasn’t worried about the next episode of Ninjago and didn’t find humor in looking up the words penis and vagina in the dictionary at the school library when the teacher wasn’t looking. His hair long, tied back into a neat ponytail and not buzzed into a Mohawk like half the boys in your grade. He had glasses that almost covered the entirety of his upper face. He always ate his pb&js on whole wheat instead of white and preferred celery sticks over fruit snacks. So, just like you, he got bullied just because he was different.
“Oh yea. I remember you now. You’re welcome by the way,” he grinned. The first time you saw him smile ever since he came to your school.
That marked the day of a long friendship.
That was until you went to middle school. You think puberty had something to do with it. He grew into his face more and sized down those jellyfishing glasses. His scrawny figure gained slightly more bulk and dressed in a more modern fashion. His hair remained the same; a bit shorter than before but still longer than most guys. You’ve always liked his hair. He would let you braid it sometimes when he was too distracted playing on his DS. He didn’t get acne like many of the other kids your grade either, skin smooth and clear. All the girls found him to die for. Your nonchalant behavior rubbed off on him and he became more confident in himself. Not letting his elementary school self be reflected into now. He became a bit too obsessed with his studies for a middle schooler; pushing all his ways on you. He would always follow you around blabbing about not attending gym class. He even started hanging around the same snotty rich kids he would complain to you about. You became annoyed. So you cut him off. Just like that. Stopped talking to him, answering his texts, not sitting with him at lunch or in class. Even after all the rejection at his advances, he came running back to you. Not willing to let you go so easily.
The school bell rings signaling the end of 4th pd and beginning of lunch. You were planning to go off campus today and not come back. Keys in hand you make your way to the student parking lot. However, someone’s blocking the exit. He’s gotten taller, about 6’2-6’3; sleeper build accommodating his height. Glasses thinner and sit perfectly on the bridge of his nose. Hair as long as ever, tyed back with that same white ribbon you gave him years ago; revealing an undercut. He fixes the collar of his button up and readjusts his tie and vest.
“And exactly…just where do you think your going?”
“To lunch,”
“The cafeteria is that way,” he points with a slender finger, decorated by a diamond ring. It shimers under the lights above reflecting against his matching earrings.
“Off campus,” he raises his eyebrow, folding his arms.
“Knowing you, you won’t come back. You do realize your request for a half day schedule is still pending right? You also recognize that I’m the one who assists the principal in granting them as well?” You don’t answer him, already knowing we're going with this.
“As I said before, your attendance needs improving before I-… we can grant it,” what a pain in the ass this guy is. You try to walk past him but he stops you, putting a hand on your shoulder.
“I don’t eat school lunch. I’ll be back after,” he gives you an unamused look. Hand gripping your shoulder a little tighter as you try to take another step.
“You know I can’t let you do that. Not unless you don’t want a new schedule,” he pauses.
“Not unless I come with you,” you look up.
“You’re paying?” His eyes widened slightly, shocked at your willingness. But he can’t be too surprised, he knows you don’t care about anything unless you get what you want.
“Of course I am. You need to spend your money on other priorities; like a new math textbook,” you ignore the subtle jab and walk to his car. No need to ask where as he parks next to you everyday to make sure he knows you’ve actually show up. Definitely not because your the first thing he wants to see in the morning.
“I don’t understand why you come to McDonald’s of all places,” he lets out a sigh, handing his card to the drive through worker. He drives up to the next window waiting for the food.
“It’s not healthy. You seriously should consider my offer in taking you to that new place down the street,”. He looks over when he doesn’t get a response; noticing the music blasting from your headphones as you look at the door. He sighs again before taking the food from the workers hand and grabbing your headphones. You turn your head to look at him but your gaze shifts to the bag in his hand. You reach over and grab a fry out of the bag and he s his eyes. Pulling into the parking lot, he silently watches you eat. This brings him so much nostalgia. He misses eating lunch with you everyday. Ranting while you just sit there and chew. He misses having someone listening to him about something that’s not related to school. After you stopped *attempted* talking to him in the beginning of 7th grade, his heart felt like it got ripped out of his chest.
He’s never felt anything his whole life. His father would tell him that one day he’ll find someone who makes him feel everything, makes life worth it. He’d seen the love shared between his parents everyday. He always wanted that. In the fourth grade all of that came true. He saw you getting off the bus making your way to school. He saw the way you helped up Michael Lemitzki, a dorky little boy, after Conner pushed him down. Shaggy hair, braces lining his teeth, comic books all on the floor. How pathetic. You weren’t scared of Conner at all. He was bigger than you and more popular than you, but you didn’t care. You kept a straight face as he threatened you and held your composure. No emotion showing whatsoever.
He thought you were beautiful. It was love at first sight. He was too busy staring at you to hear his father calling out to him. He followed his son's gaze to you. He looked back down at the small boy and gave a knowing smile. Takenya just stared at the other boy hugging you with tears down his face. Why is he touching you like that? Push him away already! That day he purposely made himself a target to the bullying of Melissa and Conner. Hoping that one day, you’ll save him the same way you did Jacob. He got bigger glasses, grew his hair out, and started dressing like the typical “nerd”. He would leave candies in your cubby, prized limited edition Pokémon cards in your backpack, brand new color pencils and markers showed up around you. He started to lose hope though. Why haven’t you noticed him yet!? Sure he’s never actually talked to you.. but still! Could you not see his effort?! Did you not care? He sat alone at recess that fateful day. He was randomly pushed down, papers and crayons flying out his small hands. He wasn’t in the mood for Connors teasing today. To caught up on the fact that the love of his life may never see him they way he’s dreamed of. Oh the dramatic mind of a fifth grader. He clutched the safety scissors that flew out of his pencil pouch watching the dick of an elementary schooler turn around. He was about to get up but stopped as he saw someone bend down beside him. It was you! You helped gather all his things and placed them into his arms. His heart pounded in his chest and the blush on his face spread like wildfire. Before he could say anything you walked away. Taking your place on the swing set. He hurriedly put all his things away before trying to build up the courage to come talk to you. He took to long, however, as the teacher soon yelled for everyone to make their way into the line back to their respective class.
As he reminisces on the past, an alarm rings. Telling him that it’s time to make his way back to school. You’ve already finished all your food and somehow managed to take your headphones back.
“What?” You say snapping him out of his trance. He didn’t even realize he was staring.
“Nothing,”
You make your way back to the school and go your separate ways. He walks you to class ensuring that you get there. Out the corner of his eye he sees someone wave to you. Lemitzki. His hairs more well kept, ditched the glasses for contacts showing of his green eyes. He’s taller and has more muscles now. The only thing that hasn’t changed is the jagged line that makes it’s way across his right cheek, interfering with his dimple as he smiles. It’s been awhile, the scar healed well. The once clutzy boy looks at the door and freezes, hand dropping and going pale. There’s a silent stare off between the two before the late bell rings. Takenya makes his way to class, a slight smile on his face at a sudden memory.
Watching him walk away, a fist tightens. Little does he know someone was planning on getting their revenge.
Hi loves! I hope you guys enjoyed. Take is an OC of mine I’ve had for a while just never had a name for him until now. Like his concept was in my head foreverrrr. He might be a reoccurring character. I really like him. But I did put one shot so I’m not sure. Lemme know what y’all want. Check out this post below for a little more context. Hope you enjoyed.
-Love, Sos❤️
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milswrites · 7 months
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Cupid’s Sword
~Azriel X Fem!Reader~
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Summary: Azriel has a crush but finds himself unable to approach them. Unable to just stand by and watch their friend’s desperate pining, Nesta and Cassian take it upon themselves to play Cupid and try and set them up. Will their efforts lead to success or is Azriel destined to remain single forever?
Warnings: Mentions of drinking. Stabbing but the good kind?
Azriel was staring again. Staring at her. His golden eyes hadn’t moved from her soft form all night, locked in place as if he were stuck in a trance. Which he may has well have been, her hypnotising features melted their way into his mind and invaded his senses, clearing them all of anything but her.
He found himself drawn to her like a moth to a flame. Her sweet voice carried from the bar where she was sat drinking with Nesta, causing his shadows to stir and attempt to crawl their way towards her in desperation for her presence. Her honeyed voice which delivered words like poetry, had always affected Azriel in ways he couldn’t explain. The velvet laugh that left her mouth as she spoke animatedly with her friend was as smooth as the whiskey Azriel was nursing.
He was hooked. Her presence a drug that Azriel hasn’t been able to get enough of since he had first laid eyes on her. Azriel hadn’t even been invited to Rita’s tonight. But when his shadows had reported to him that you had agreed to go tonight with Nesta, he knew there was no other place he wanted to be. Nesta’s permission be damned.
And so here he was, hiding in the shadows of a booth with Cassian, who was fearful of being caught by his mate on the one night where she was free of his company. Cassian had been unable to say no to his friend who had claimed he needed a drink or two after a hard days work, but now they were here Azriel could tell his brother was catching on to the real reason why he had wanted to come.
“Something caught your eye brother?” Cassian teased, bored of sitting and drinking in silence as Azriel’s attention was elsewhere, “or should I say someone?”
Azriel cursed under his breath. He would have been better off coming alone. If Cassian caught wind of his admiration for Nesta’s new friend he would never let Azriel live it down. Azriel could already imagine the relentless mocking that would ensue.
With great effort, he tore his eyes away from Y/N at the bar and settled them onto the overjoyed face of his brother manically grinning before him. “I don’t know what you mean” Azriel muttered, gaze moving to his half-empty drink to avoid his brother being able to read his lies. But of course once Cassian had started something he just couldn’t leave it alone.
“No?” Cassian mused, “the hole you’ve burned into Y/N’s head says differently. Unless of course it was my mate you’ve been staring at, in which case you’re more than welcome to come warm our bed tonight.”
The latter part of Cassian’s remark didn’t phase Azriel, he was used to the crude comments that spew from his friend’s mouth. He even sometimes heard them from Nesta. The first few words however caused Azriel’s heart to start beating faster and his palms grew clammy, skin clinging uncomfortably to the glass he was gripping for support. Defensively he said, “I wasn’t staring at Y/N.”
“Hm sure Az and I’m not the sexiest man - oh hey Y/N!”
Azriel’s head snapped to where Cassian had directed his voice, scared the woman had witnessed the conversation. She wasn’t stood there. Y/N was still happily sat at the bar with Nesta gossiping away with matching smiles on their faces. At his frantic reaction Cassian had broken out into a hearty laugh, his hand flying to his chest to brace himself as he did so. His booming chortle was enough to start drawing attention from the other customers who had found their way into Rita’s tonight.
“You’re whipped brother!” Cassian ginned merrily at Azriel who began to desperately shush his brother as his worried eyes briefly jumped to the bar, afraid the woman in question would be listening in.
“Yes! Ok! I like her!” Azriel hissed quietly between his teeth, hoping his admission would stop Cassian from teasing him for the whole club to hear.
“I knew it…I knew it” Cassian beamed in satisfaction as if he had just solved Azriel’s deepest secret. As if it wasn’t obvious enough from the way Azriel had been pining after Y/N from the shadows of their booth for the majority of the evening.
“Go over to her! I’m sure she’d say yes if you ask her in a date!” He urged Azriel, gesturing excitedly towards the bar as if playing wingman was his lifelong dream profession.
“And leave Nesta to discover we’re here ruining her girls night? She’s killed people for less” Azriel retorted in hopes that his brother wouldn’t make him go over to the bar and no doubt embarrass himself by being rejected in front of the mass of people in Rita’s tonight.
“Ah” Cassian dismissively waved his hand, “what Nesta doesn’t know won’t hurt her, I’ll hide in the toilet and you-”
Cassian was interrupted by the cold snap of his mates voice, “Nesta doesn’t know what dear?”
The two males gulped at Nesta’s sudden appearance, both having no intention of saying anything lest they anger Nesta even further. There was no doubt the terrifying woman would easily give them both a piece of her mind without them even needing to speak.
“Do you want to tell me, darling mate, why you’ve come to stalk me on my girls night?” She continued, her presence enough to leave both males breathless in fear.
“I wasn’t stalking you! I was watching Y/N!” Cassian blurted before he realised how his words had sounded and continued rambling before his mate could smite him, “not me! Him! Azriel made me come, he’s in love with her so I told him to go ask her out!”
“Cassian!” Azriel gasped with wide eyes, disbelief crossed his features as his brother betrayed his secret crush. Anxiously Azriel leant over to look past Nesta, trying to find the object of his affection and make sure she didn’t hear what Cassian had said.
Nesta’s face flashed with surprise at the information before her expression morphed into something more mischievously sinister as her eyes landed on the sputtering Azriel. “Don’t worry she didn’t hear. She’s gone home” Nesta reassured him.
But Azriel was feeling anything but reassured. The spark that had ignited in Nesta’s eyes caused him to feel unsettled and shrink back into his seat, wanting to escape the woman’s scheming gaze. Even Cassian seemed uneasy, shuffling where he was sat as he observed Nesta’s silent plotting, unsure of where this was going to go.
“It’s ok Azriel” she finally said in a sickly sweet voice as she placed a hand onto his shoulder, gripping it tight enough that Azriel knew he should definitely be scared, “we’ll get you that date.”
~~~~~
If Nesta could be described in a single word Azriel would say she was relentless. Ever since she had found out about Azriel��s not so little crush on Y/N at Rita’s over a week ago, she had been a force of nature.
He knew Nesta loved her friend dearly. Having nothing but good things to say about her since she had been introduced to Y/N by Madja. The elder woman had hired Y/N as an apprentice with the hope that she would be able to take over her healing duties when the time came for her retirement. Azriel had been curious about this woman that the usually reserved Nesta spoke so fondly of and so the next time Madja had brought her along after receiving the call that Cassian needed to be healed, Azriel had made sure he was there.
He was not disappointed. Y/N had been blessed by the cauldron in both looks and heart. Her presence on the day they had met being enough to stun him into a paralytic awe as he found himself unable to string even a few words together to speak to her.
Azriel was content to watch on in silent appreciation. Spending the days whenever she was at the House of Wind hovering close by, longing to hear a trace of her soft voice. If he was particularly lucky, he would on occasion receive an earth-shattering smile as she acknowledged him from a distance. But that was all it ever was, a distance.
Until Nesta had gotten involved and suddenly Y/N was everywhere. There was no room Azriel could enter that Y/N wasn’t in alongside a beaming Nesta. His inability to speak around her growing more and more frustrating as he had to grumble a shy hello before excusing himself, nerves too overwhelming for him to say anymore and his embarrassment at this stupor being too much for Azriel to want to stay in silence.
His reaction to her new overwhelming presence caused Nesta to grow frustrated. She had obviously been thinking that this would be an easy match and ignored Cassian’s warnings about how debilitating Azriel’s crush actually was. Nesta would have to try harder than just making sure Azriel could never escape Y/N’s presence. It’s a good thing she had a mate who was more than willing to help out his struggling friend.
Cassian was not a subtle man, he definitely wasn’t the type of person who did things in small measures. If Cassian was going to set his brother up he would do it his way, and hopefully not destroy any buildings in the process.
~~~~~
Azriel had grown used to Y/N being here. Which meant he had become very good at avoiding her whilst she was, his shadows reluctantly reporting to him not to leave his room whenever she was around.
Instead Azriel’s new favourite past time was wallowing in his own self pity as he laid face down on his bed in frustration at his situation. Which is where he was when Cassian had entered, neglecting to knock and alert him of his presence.
“Hey buddy,” his words interrupting Azriel’s sulking, “Can I have your help with something?” Azriel emitted a grunt of acknowledgment, not deigning to lift his head to look at his brother. “Great…cool” Cassian continued, “so I am superrr busy with work right now but I had promised Rhys I’d get some paperwork over to Madja. Think you can help me out?”
Deciding that doing Cassian’s chores would be a suitable distraction from his thoughts, Azriel raised his head slightly and grunted once more.
“Brilliant thanks Az!” He grinned, rubbing his hands together before turning to leave the room. Azriel sat up fully now in confusion, facing his retreating brother, “Cassian?”
The male jumped as if he had been caught doing something he shouldn’t and slowly turned back towards Azriel waiting to hear what his friend had to say. “The paperwork?” Azriel asked.
“Huh” sounded Cassian.
“The paperwork for Madja? Where is it?” Azriel watched as realisation crossed the generals features, mouth dropping open in a small o.
“Right… the paperwork. I’ll go get it!” Cassian said before running off, his footsteps pounding down the corridor as he ran to his room and back. Once he had returned, panting slightly at his hurried movement, he handed Azriel a sealed envelope, “here you go! And uh… don’t open that it’s highly confidential.”
Azriel enjoyed the flight over to Madja’s estate, the opportunity to spread his wings and allow the cool air to clear his head was refreshing. He landed smoothly and opened the door, ready to greet the elder woman he and the rest of the Inner Circle were so fond of. Yet Madja wasn’t there. Instead, Y/N was sat at Madja’s desk scribbling away at the papers laid before her.
At the sound of the door creaking open, her head raised, a bright smile adorning her face at the sight of the shadowsinger. “Azriel! Hi, what can I do for you?” Her honeyed voice made Azriel’s spine tingle and he found himself wishing for her to say his name again. Liking the way it sounded coming from her lips.
“Uh…where’s Madja?” He didn’t mean to sound as rude as he did when asking that question. However, the irregular pounding of his heart made his senses slip and his anxiety spike.
Y/N didn’t seem to mind, smile still on her face as she answered, “I’ve started taking over for her. When there’s not any serious injuries of course,” her smile then faltered a little, “but I thought you knew? You sent the flowers?”
A matching frown crossed Azriel’s features, “flowers? What flowers?” He asked as she directed his attention to the ridiculously large bouquet of flowers placed lovingly into a vase on the chest of drawers behind Azriel. He squinted his eyes, enabling him to read the note sticking out of them. The note which was written in Cassian’s untidy scrawl.
To Y/N
Congratulations on the promotion
With love, Azriel
He blanched, “Yes! The flowers of course. I ordered them so long ago that I forgot I’m sorry”
Y/N’s frown grew deeper at his excuse, “I only got the news yesterday?”
“Madja told me a week or two ago” he lied, desperate for the topic of this conversation to change before he dug himself a deeper hole. The lie seemed to do the job though as Y/N was obviously pleased with the thought of the older healer telling Azriel about it, telling him about her.
“Oh well, thank you! I love them” her blissful smile returned causing the butterflies already present in Azriel’s stomach to go wild. He wanted to tell her no problem, to ask her how her days going, to potentially ask her out on that date he was so badly craving. But Azriel’s tongue had grown heavy, glued to the roof of his mouth rendering him speechless.
Like a fool he stood there before her just staring. Admiring the way the golden glow of the sunlight shining through the window danced on her rosy cheeks. Taking note of the way her eyebrow slightly twitched as it did whenever she was confused. It was only when his shadows began to shift around him that Azriel allowed himself to return to the present only to realise just how long he had been in that trance and how uncomfortable he must have made Y/N.
Wanting to escape his anxiety, he began to sputter out a pitiful goodbye as he stumbled his way to the door. “Wait Azriel!” Y/N called out after him, “why is the letter empty?”
This was the second mistake Cassian had made. The first was not warning Azriel about the flowers. The second was handing him an empty envelope to give to Y/N with no explanation. What must she think of him? Turning up to her office with an empty letter and no idea about the flowers which appeared as though they were sent from him.
Neglecting to provide her with an answer, Azriel rushed from the building, wanting to avoid any accusations from her about him being a creep. He took off as fast as he could, leaving a confused Y/N behind in the empty office.
~~~~~
Azriel stormed through the house, wings flared and siphons glowing dangerously. He didn’t stop until he came face to face with a smirking Cassian who was loitering in the kitchen having waited for him brother’s return.
“Am I genius or what?” He chortled, arms outstretched as he waited for a hug he would never receive, “we better get you ready for that date!”
“There is no date” Azriel growled through gritted teeth, batting down Cassian’s arms as he watched the grin drop from his friends face at the statement.
“What? But I set everything up perfectly?” Cassian said in confusion, as if there was no possible way his perfect plan could have fallen through.
“Perfectly?” Azriel laughter bitterly, anger growing fiercely inside of him, “you made a fool out of me! She thanked me for the flowers to which I told her I didn’t know what she was talking about and then she opened the letter and found out it was empty! I looked like an idiot!”
Cassian sucked in air between his teeth awkwardly, “I guess I didn’t think that through…”
“No Cassian,” seethed Azriel, “you never think. And now you’ve ruined any chance I ever had of… you know what just forget it.” With that Azriel stalked off, needing to clear his head and mourn over the relationship he was never even able to start.
~~~~~
Cassian had begged his brother for forgiveness, unable to last another minute with Azriel’s sullen form sulking about the house ignoring him. Of course Azriel wasn’t actually mad at his brother, most of his bitterness was reserved for himself. He should have understood Cassian’s hints and help and followed along with it, then maybe things would have gone differently and maybe he would have gotten the girl.
Not wanting to admit his true feelings about it to his brother, Azriel said he’d forgive him but that Cassian should expect hell at during their next training session. Azriel had lots of frustration to expel.
Which is what led them to where they were now. Azriel beating down on his brother with all his might, the two locked in a deadly combat together. Cassian having to block powerful blow after powerful blow that his brother was delivering.
It wasn’t until Azriel struck hard enough to disarm him did Cassian then suggest the two took a break before he ended up being skewered. Nesta released a low whistle from where she had been watching as she moved towards the men in the ring, Azriel’s frustration at the pair of them was almost tangible.
“Remind me not to get on your bad side” she joked, slightly worried eyes absorbing the frazzled state Azriel had left her mate in.
“Yeah well whatever stops you two trying to play Cupid” he defended, reminding Cassian why he had fought so hard.
Nesta snorted, “Cupid? Have you seen Cas try to use a bow? I’d be better poking you to your senses with Ataraxia.” Nesta’s eyes lit up at her own joke. That same unstettling feeling that Azriel had fallen victim to in Rita’s had returned.
Nesta unsheathed her dagger, stalking towards Azriel who was backing off with his hands raised. “What’s going on Nesta?” Azriel anxiously said as his back met the edge of the ring, halting his retreat.
“It’s alright, relax Az! Things will work out ” Nesta smirked. And the next thing he knew, her dagger had been plunged into his upper arm as he screamed out in pain and gripped onto the handle of the blade which was sticking out of his bicep. Blood slowly trickling down his arm.
~~~~~
“Y/N thank the cauldron you’re here!” Nesta gasped in mock relief at the appearance of her friend.
The woman ran towards Azriel from where Cassian had landed with her in his arms, worry plastered on her face as it had been from the moment Cassian had frantically shown up at her door and said that Azriel been stabbed.
“Oh mother! What happened?” She cried, pulling out a towel before pressing it tightly to Azriel’s bleeding arm, knife still lodged in his muscle. Azriel opened his mouth to give her the honest answer but Nesta beat him to it, “Freak accident! Happened out of nowhere. Super unfortunate. We’ll leave you to it, come on Cas!” She dragged her mate away, the two whispering aggressively together as they left. Cassian had obviously not been privy to Nesta’s plan.
“Freak accident?” She said in disbelief, pulling the knife out before beginning to use her healing magic to stitch the wound together. “Cupids sword apparently” Azriel hummed quietly, the majority of his focus being on how attractive he found Y/N’s concentrated face as she worked. Her presence alone numbing the pain he was feeling.
“I thought Cupid used a bow and arrow?” She laughed in confusion, attention not straying from the intricate magic she was performing on Azriel.
“I don’t think Nesta has ever used a bow and arrow in her life” he huffed, face twitching in pain as Y/N’s healing powers created a small burning sensation on his arm.
“So Nesta’s Cupid?” She mused, small smile on her face as Azriel froze at the realisation of what he had said, likely due to the blood loss, “or is it Cassian? He did send the flowers instead of you right?”
Azriel’s eyes widened in Suprise, “you…you knew?”
“It doesn’t take a genius to figure it out. He’s not exactly subtle. And neither is Nesta apparently” she said gesturing to the thin red line of raised skin that now marked his arm where the knife had been.
“Yeah” Azriel shyly laughed in anticipation of what was transpiring between them, a soft blush dusting over his cheeks, “guess they just really want me to be happy… in their own weirdly demented way.”
“I can’t think of anyone who deserves to be happier more than you do” Y/N stated, her finger absentmindedly brushing over his new scar sending shivers dancing down his spine again.
“Yeah” Azriel manages to squeeze out of his anxiously closing throat, her close proximity reawakening the butterflies that seemed to have permanently made their home in his stomach.
“So?” It was Y/N’s turn to urge Azriel to ask her the question, “are you going to let Nesta go through all the trouble of stabbing you just so you can let me walk away? I’ve been waiting a while you know”
This time Azriel was able to find his courage, “I really like you.” He finally confessed, wanting to get the truth out before his inability to speak around Y/N returned, “I find myself unable to keep control around you, I can’t pull myself together and I always end up acting like an idiot. Because I am crazy about you Y/N.”
“You’re a very cute idiot” she teased, finger now travelling from where it was brushing his arm to trail down his chest. Her words made Azriel flush, he attempted to answer but all that came out were small broken sounds of disbelief.
“Come on Azriel” she continued to tease. Y/N had complete control over this situation, over Azriel. His spirit drawn to hers as her lips moved closer to his, “use your words. Ask me.”
“Will you go on a date with me?” He managed to squeak out. Transfixed by the hold she had over him. Y/N breathed out an airy laugh before gripping onto his shirt and dragging Azriel into her before their lips collided.
Whilst Azriel may have had problems speaking with her, he definitely didn’t have any issues when it came to kissing her. Making sure to pour every ounce of longing and pining that he had been feeling since he first laid eyes on her into the kiss. Their lips moulded together as if they were made for each other. A perfect match.
“Yes” she confirmed pulling back from the kiss to catch her breath. Azriel shifted his eyes to the movement occurring from behind her shoulder, gaze finding its home on Cassian and Nesta who were excitedly jumping, holding their thumbs up to the male.
Azriel wrapped his unbloody arm around Y/N’s shoulders, a grin of appreciation on his face as he looked to his friends thankfully.
There were worse friends to have.
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ruporas · 1 year
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post-trimax vash meets stampede wolfwood
[ID: Black and white comic of Vash and Wolfwood of their Stampede versions. The comic starts with Wolfwood continuing off a conversation, saying “I didn’t mean t’say anythin’ bad to her. She just took it the wrong way. But anyway...” Wolfwood speaks with a hand gestured flippantly while Vash, who’s seated next to him, just listens. Vash thinks to himself, “Talks more about himself... Honest expressions... Immature, though he was pretty immature too.” He smiles and continues to think, “And yet...”
A panel of Vash’s eye directed now to the sky. He thinks, “Some things are bound to be the same with us...” He thinks of a memory, the version from Maximum of him and Wolfwood, back shown as they chatted underneath two moons, one moon with a hole through it. Vash continues, “Isn’t that right, W-“ His thoughts are interrupted by Wolfwood coming into a view, a close up his deadpan expression. Vash utters out “-olfwood..?” with a nervous expression. He starts to explain, “Um. Sorry if it seemed like I wasn’t listening, I was! So, let’s keep talking?”
Vash smiles and puts his hands together as he says, “okay?” Wolfwood glares at him with gritted teeth and Vash immediately remembers, “Right, he’s more short-tempered...” He continues to think, “Maybe Plan B works with him—“ before he’s grabbed by his coat collar aggressively and changes thoughts, “OK, never mind, brace for impact..!” But he’s surprised when he’s tugged instead, him and Wolfwood flops against the ground. Wolfwood puts an arm over Vash and says, “I don’t need to be entertained, blondie. If yer tired, we can go to sleep.”
Two close up panels of Wolfwood and Vash’s eyes looking at each other, Wolfwood taking off Vash’s glasses as he says, “Am I wrong?” Vash thinks to himself, “Actually... I was being genuine when I said I wanted to keep talking. I don’t feel tired at all. But, I think you know this body more than I do.”
Vash’s thoughts continue, “I can’t deny the me you’re fond of from being taken care of. And I could never deny your kindness. Even though...” Vash finally smiles and says, “You’re not wrong...” Wolfwood smiles back before tugging Vash closer and says, “Then, let’s sleep.” Vash asks, “Should we get a blanket?” Wolfwood asks, “Why?” before kissing Vash on the cheek, “I’ll keep you warm.” Vash puts his face into both his hands and flushes. Wolfwood smiles cheekily and asks, “What?” Vash responds, “I was caught off guard..” Wolfwood says, “You’ve said worse though.” Vash responds, “Did I...” The panel phases out and the dialogue returns to Vash’s thoughts. He thinks, “I want to stay a bit longer. Talk a bit longer.
You’re tired here too. The future is always going to be unfair to you. I want to protect you from it. I want to hold you close so you won’t go far.” The thoughts overlap the scene of Wolfwood now sleeping peacefully against Vash with an arm over him, Vash’s jacket draped against him as a blanket. Vash looks at him and a small thought bubble thinks, “He can fall asleep first...” His previous thoughts continue, “I know I can’t. I already had that chance.” A close up of Vash putting his hand over Wolfwood’s. He continues, “I wasn’t capable once, I can’t be sure I’d be capable a second time. And in a way...”
Vash’s thoughts continue with the back drop of the sky, Stampede’s sky of two moons without holes, “Some things are bound to be the same. But I know you’ll be loved again and again in a way I’d never know.” A split panel, one half contains the sleeping face of Wolfwood from Stampede, the other of Wolfwood from Trimax. In turn, the Vash lying down looking fondly at Wolfwood shifts to the post Trimax Vash while the other versions, Stampede and earlier Trimax, are faintly drawn next to him doing the same. Vash closes his eyes and finally drifts to sleep as the final text reads, “Goodnight, Wolfwood.”
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macabr3-barbi3 · 5 months
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DoubleTrouble No 1 🖤❤️
Myself and the delightful and talented @fraugwinska have been working on something tasty and present to you: a DoubleTrouble fic!
A single prompt from my Ao3, shared between two writers, one POV each ❤️
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I tackled the reader's perspective, and you can find one from Alastor's POV right here! So many thanks for FrauGwinska for being an absolute superstar and working with me through this new and exciting experience <3
We hope you enjoy!
Tags: period sex, cunnilingus, mentions of blood (obviously), rough sex <3
Minors DNI🔞
The Blood is Rare 🩸
The fact that you still had a period in Hell was bullshit, but you suppose they needed to give people something to be miserable about. That was probably why people ended up in the situation you were in now, seated across from Alastor with a deal on the tip of your tongue; sheer desperation, because somehow the cramps were even worse than they had been on Earth and the only thing that helped was a good old fashioned orgasm. If it were anyone else you wouldn’t even consider asking- a lot of demons, except the really-weird-even-for-Hell ones, were still squeamish about blood being involved with any kind of orgasm.
If you were right though. Alastor would relish the opportunity you were about to present to him.
Fresh to the hotel just a few days after your last Hellish period, Alastor had startled you in the kitchen with a knife in your hand. The resulting jump had caused the blade to slip, gash in your thumb bleeding steadily over the apples that you had planned to fry up. Rather than allowing you to fetch a bandage, Alastor had chuckled, said “no need, dear,” and popped your thumb into his mouth. It was probably some ploy of his- strike fear into the hearts of new residents, give them a reminder that he was a cannibal and that he wouldn’t hesitate to eat them if they stepped out of line or caused any issues.
It backfired on him. At the taste of your blood his eyes grew black, staggering away from you with the shock of it, antlers extending so quickly they smashed the glass front of a nearby cabinet and he ended up trapped between the wooden dividers.
“More,” he had snarled, but his antlers stuck in the cabinet had been enough of a delay for you to make an escape. 
He apologized, of course, a couple days later, explained his nature as a cannibal, a predator, had reacted before his mind, and that such a thing would not happen again. He had ended the awkward conversation with a statement of, “should you feel the desire to spare some of that tasty treat in your veins, do be a dear and let me know!”
And, well. Here you were. Letting him know. Ready to make a deal with one of the most powerful Overlords in Hell to get a little relief from the torture chamber that was your body in ovulation, even when there was nothing to fucking ovulate.
Alastor was tense when he phased into the hotel conference room to meet you as you had asked. His spine is stiff when he settles into the chair across from you, not having been alone in a space since that time in the kitchen. “What is it that I can help you with, my dear?”
“I want to clarify something- do you want to like, eat me?”
“Oh!” Alastor’s eyes widen with his smile. “I wouldn’t have been so blunt about it, darling, but if you’re asking- yes. That little taste that I had a few weeks ago was… inadequate, to say the least. But naturally staying here at the Hotel, Charlie would have been terribly upset had I consumed you.” He flicks his gaze over your form. “Why do you ask? Surely you don’t mean to let me indulge.”
A deep breath as you brace yourself. “Hah, not exactly. But uh, I do have a proposition of sorts for you. In regards to that. Kind of.”
He fades out of sight, rematerializing a couple seats closer to you. “Color me intrigued! What do you have in mind?”
You almost call the whole thing off- then a monster bolt of pain rips through your abdomen, nearly forcing you to double over the table with the ache of it. Any thought of embarrassment or hesitation flies from your head. Alastor is the only one that would be willing to help you in this way, you’re sure of it.
The groan of pain escapes you before you can stop it, and his eyebrows raise. “I have a deal to offer you that would allow you to- um. Sample my blood, if you’re amenable. Once a month.”
His head cocks to the side before his expression clears and he understands what you’re implying. “You’re referring to menstruation?” You nod, face red. “I see. Please provide me with more details of what this proposal would entail on my end then.” His claws are digging into the table, wood splintering beneath them and betraying his interest before even hearing what he would have to do.
“Right. I don’t know if you’re aware or not but periods can be crazy painful. Just on Earth too, but down here they’re basically unbearable when the cramps get bad. One thing that can help is having an orgasm.” You’re trying to resist the urge to hide in some way. You know this is what needs to be done. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, of course- just, you know. Uh, collecting on your benefit would probably do the trick.”
His eyes narrow. “I see. That is the… service I’m to provide, then?” A nod, flushed face dropped into your hands. “Well, I suppose I will simply have to endeavor to do my best! I’m never one to turn down a challenge- certainly not when the payoff is so enticing.” His eyes go dark, not quite black yet but the air between you changes, antlers going long and jagged. “I’m open to your proposal.”
“I need terms,” you breathe out, pleased that he’s still willing to help with the sexual nature of your request. “I need- just, something confirming that you won’t actually eat me for real. The blood is all that I’m willing to part with- no flesh.”
He sighs, eyes rolling. “Less exciting,” he says with a wave of his hand, “but not a dealbreaker. Anything else?”
“Only once a month- during this time. You can’t just be making me bleed whenever you want.”
“Done.” He’s in the chair next to you then, eyes black, grin so wide it threatens to split his face open, clawed hand held in your direction. “Do we have a deal?”
You take his hand in yours, green light filling the space between you and a screeching feedback sound assaulting your ears. When it fades Alastor is watching with hooded eyes. “Would you like to begin now?”
“Oh God. Uh, if now is a good time for you I guess. If you want to do it now.”
He laughs low and dangerous, his tall frame rising from the chair to tower over you. “Darling, I’ve wanted some semblance of what you’ve proposed for weeks. I’m not a man that makes a habit of denying himself a treat when it’s offered to him so sweetly.”
Your hand is still in his, and there’s a strange pull behind your navel as Alastor yanks you into the shadows with him, rematerializing in his bedroom. “Feel free to sit on the bed,” he offers, gesturing to the mattress and manifesting a large dark towel. “Or lie back- however will be more comfortable for you.” 
He releases your hand once you’ve sat, and you stay upright as Alastor sinks to his knees in front of you, fingers coming to the top of your skirt and pulling everything down in one fell swoop, his expression darkening at the scent of you exposed before him before ducking his head. You can’t see what he sees with how close he has already come to your skin, his enlarged antlers blocking your vision, the muscles of his back flexing with the force of his inhale as he breathes you in. A jolt of pain hits you again, deep in your core, and your whimper at the feeling has him bringing his eyes back to your face.
His eyes are hooded and dangerous, feral smile on his face while your fingers dig into the bedsheets. “Feel free to hold on, dear,” he says with a gesture to his antlers, before dipping his head to your bare cunt and slicking his tongue between your folds, angling his head just so to slip into your heat.
You can almost forget that Alastor is only doing this to satisfy some carnal desire of his with the fervent way that he pushes his mouth against you, slick muscle delving deep into you and brushing his nose against the firm nub of your clit. There’s a reverberating rumble as he moans at the taste, clawed fingers coming up to grip at your thighs, spreading them wider so he can get even closer to the source of his obsession. You can feel where he flicks his tongue inside you, brushing against that sweet bundle of nerves with every strong push and pull. The pleasure curls in your gut, keeping the worst of the cramps at bay while your body tenses and releases in rhythm with the demon’s ministrations. Every so often he pulls out, brings what he’s collected back into the haven of his mouth and savors it, eyes closed and his throat rumbling with a satisfied groan.
“You’ve no idea,” he growls, “how I’ve thought of tasting you. Consuming you.” The sharp points of his teeth brush against your clit and your body jolts, hands finally flying up from the bed to clutch at his antlers, grip tight on the tines of them as he looks up at you. 
The look on his face is nearly your undoing- more animal than man, and his claws dig into your flesh, tiny pinpricks of pain dragging you forcibly back to the moment. Your orgasm is just out of reach, not enough focus where you need him but you don’t want him to feel uncomfortable if you ask him for more.
“Fucking divine,” he whispers against you, and when his tongue brushes your sensitive clit with the words you shudder, the motion drawing his gaze to your face, flushed and hot. He smiles wide, expression smug as he leans in and does it purposely this time, licking up your folds and finally focusing where you need him to be. He circles it with purpose, pressure so sweet and sadistic, a light suck making you cry out his name and fist your hands on his antlers.
“Fuck! Alastor, yes, there- oh god, please, more…” He tenses under your hands and you worry for a moment that you’ve done something wrong. Then he’d sliding his hands under your thighs and dragging you closer to the edge of the bed, draping your legs over his shoulders.
“Say it again,” he murmurs, the vibrations of his voice sending heat flooding through you, overriding the painful ache of a cramp that tries to make itself known.
“Alastor,” you moan, and his tongue resumes its residence in the tight grip of your cunt, a hand coming up to brush a clawed finger over your clit. He works you quickly, his efforts paying off as your body tenses, invisible string inside you drawing tight and snapping with a force you’ve never felt before. “Alastor- A-” You try to say his name again, hear it come out as as a choked off whimper and a near scream as you reach orgasm, legs tightening on his shoulders and pulling him as closer, your walls clenching down on the length of his tongue before be pulls back and licks you through the remainder of it.
You release your grip on his antlers and fall back against the mattress, eyes closed while Alastor removes his face from between your legs, licking along the tiny pinpricks of blood from his claws before you shoot him a halfhearted glare. 
Your abdomen is blissfully absent of any clenching of your internal organs seeking revenge. Sated, you sit up from the mattress to see Alastor still knelt before you, faint lines of dried blood- your dried blood, your brain supplies- around his mouth. He looks like a predator fresh from his kill of the night, antlers jagged and long, eyes still dark and frantic as he looks at you.
“Was that sufficient, darling?”
“God, yes, it was perfect. I- I really appreciate your help.”
“Hmm. Of course. Though I must admit, only part of my… appetite for you has been appeased.” He rises from the floor, knees perched on either side of your thighs now and leaning in. You can smell something metallic on him as he approaches, know that it's your own blood as he stares down into your eyes hovered over you.
“Oh?” You become aware of a hard length pressing into your thigh. “Oh! I didn’t think that was something you would be interested in.”
He shrugs, rolling his hips and hissing at the friction. “Nor did I, dear. That does seem to be a theme with you, though- having a taste and finding that I crave more against my better judgment, against all reason.” He places a hand on your hip and runs his claws along the bare skin. “Would you allow me to help ease your pain once more?”
“God, yes,” you breathe out, “please, Alastor.” He takes a moment to undress, trousers removed along with his boxers before he climbs back over you and presses against the still slick folds of your cunt. He pushes in, hot and hard length opening you up and settling deep inside of you with a harsh exhale of breath against your neck. “Fuck, it’s so good.”
Alastor growls, the sound reverberating through his chest as he thrusts into you. A pulse of arousal shoots through you, the thought of bringing such a well spoken man to his baser instincts, so thoroughly invested in you that he can do little more than snarl like an animal into your skin, pushing you ever closer to the edge again. You’re already soft and sensitive from your first release, the cresting wave of a second hustling towards you. 
He buries his face in the crook of your neck, sharp teeth nipping at the tendon he finds there and moaning. “I could devour you,” he whispers, and you feel yourself clench down on him at the broken crack in his voice.  He drags his tongue up the length of your neck, hesitates like he’s trying to savor it. “I could feast on you for centuries and never tire of the taste of your flesh, whether coated in blood or sweat.”
A whimper escapes you as he sucks on the skin of your shoulder, leaving a trail of harsh bruises along the path he takes. A hand comes up to twist into his hair, something to ground yourself, to draw this out as long as possible. Your other hand digs into the flesh of his arm pinning you to the mattress. “Fuck, more, please,” you beg him, and he pulls back from your neck to watch your face twist and contort in pleasure while he slams against the sweet spot inside of you.
“Say my name,” he demands, fingers on your hip digging bruises into the soft skin, his other hand tangled in the bedsheets, tearing them to shreds to avoid sinking his claws into you. “Say it. Tell me what you need.”
“Oh God, Alastor-” You angle your hips, the movement bringing him even deeper into your body, the length of him so sweet and sinfully delicious that a whine escapes your throat before you can think to stop it. “I need- I don’t know, Al, I can’t-”
“You must,” he commands, and he lets go of your hip to slip his hand between your bodies, fingers pressing against the taut skin of your opening where your bodies are joined. The stimulation is foreign and new and has your walls tensing and releasing rhythmically around him, release so close now that you were seeing stars behind your clenched eyes.
“Look at me.” Your lids fly open to meet the sight of Alastor above you, his face contorted in something like pain. “You must,” he says again, fucking into you with vigor now, sweat beading on his forehead. “I need it around me, I have to feel it. Please, darling, give it to me-”
Fuck. How could you deny him when he asked so sweetly? Not that you had any control over it- your body breaks beneath him, cunt wrapped around him like the softest of silk and tightening its grip. Your limbs seem to go numb for a moment, pleasure warping your reality for a few blissful moments, your vision focusing in a tunnel on Alastor’s face before it vanishes, burying once again in the space between your shoulder and neck.
With a final cry of his name he sinks his teeth into you, not tearing back as one might expect but content to simply let them rest there as he spills into you with a broken moan, hips bucking hard and fierce and then easing into something softer as your walls pull and push, wringing every drop from him.
A breath of silence as you both catch your breath, interrupted by a hiss of faint pain as Alastor pulls his teeth from you and licks at the wound he’s created like a satisfied cat. “You promised you wouldn’t try to eat me for real,” you mutter, voice soft from the strength of your cries.
Alastor hums against you, tongue still moving against you. “Hardly my fault.” He’s mouthing greedily at your skin, claws traipsing on the flesh of your hips and roaming wherever he can reach. “You’re delicious,” he groans, taking one final taste of your blood before pulling back and collapsing next to you, “a delicacy. How am I meant to live without this at every moment of the day? I think I shall starve.”
You huff out a laugh, stretching your muscles as well as you can without really moving. “Don’t be dramatic. You get it once a month, at least.” You roll onto your side, ignore the feeling of something slick and wet between your thighs and focus on the fact that your body is limp and pliant and not seeking revenge on you. 
“You raise a valid point, my dear.” He throws you a sideways look, his antlers now having returned to their normal size and his ears relaxed against his skull. “Though I’m not at all opposed to repeating this aspect of the experience outside of your… monthly allowance to me. Deals always have room for negotiation, do they not?”
“Let’s get through this one first and then we’ll talk.” You yawn and try to rise from the bed, but an arm from the demon beside you is thrown haphazardly over your waist, pinning you in place.
“Stay,” he says, his eyes lidded and peeking at you. “There’s more to come yet, right? May as well stay where we can easily access one another for the duration.” His crimson eyes close the rest of the way and you settle back into the mattress, allowing your body to relax and slip into a peaceful sleep beside him.
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eveningepiphany · 9 months
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something about the legs | h.s oneshot
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summary: something about your best friends legs really does it for you, especially in skinny jeans…
warnings: besties with unexpected and very impulsive benefits, oral sex (mrec), lots and lots of talk about those mfing legs and thighs, dirty talk, h not expecting you to be like that until you are.
a/n: so it’s been a hot minute… hi again🤪 but something rlly just sent me spiralling with this pic of h’s fucking legs. look at them. anyways, enjoy me being a slut and channeling it into some fine literature, enjoy xoxo
———
Ovulation week is a curse. An absolute, utter curse.
Between the multitude of random fluctuating symptoms and skyrocketing hormones, you feel dreaded enough as it is. But the worst part, is every fucking month you become absolutely manic with need.
Some are increasingly better or worse than others, but this month is something off the charts.
There is no warrant for you to be this fucking horny at 9:32pm on a Thursday night. Yet here you are, squirming because you’re around someone that already riles you up enough as it is.
Harry is your best friend. Has been for years. Since the awkward starting phases of middle school. All braces paired with horrendous fashion choices. And into the ages of highschool throughout all the drama and predictable thematics. Into the present, where life throws you curveballs as you enter the world as young adults, and now that he’s in one direction. You can’t imagine going through all that with anyone else.
Actually, maybe it’s fit to mention you’re almost certain that this man never went through an awkward phase… despite the fact possibly everyone else on the planet did. Harry did not.
He was cute from the day he was born, it’s evident in the pictures, up until he hit puberty, then he became some ungodly mix of both cute and ridiculously hot.
It’s disgusting that someone can do both things at the same time. And also revolting that they can have no idea at all.
But tonight, he is all hot. Between the way he’s dressed, the way he’s walking, and the way he’s talking. It’s close to killing you where you’re sat.
Thighs clenched together like there’s a thousand dollar check between them, you sit on a outdoor couch at your family’s holiday house.
It’s just the two of you outside on the large decked patio. It’s a huge house by the lake that your parents and grandparents own, so you invited Harry to come stay for the week. Your family were thrilled you invited him, but have already turned in for an early night. Since they planned to be out on the lake for a day of water activities almost before the damn sun was even fully up.
Harry has a glass of alcohol in his hands— one that is completely dwarfed in his hold. It’s condensation forming small droplets over the ridges of his fingers.
He hasn’t realised the staring you’ve been doing, as he paces the deck talking about something to do with a recent song he’s been writing.
You’re sliding in small hums of agreement at the appropriate times without even hearing what he’s saying. Only the pleasing lilt in his voice that tickles your ears as it enters them.
He’s got those black skinny jeans on, the pair that cling to his hips for dear life. And not only are they fit to his hips, but they hug every single curve on his legs. The thick of his thighs all the way down to the muscle of his calf.
And if anything was the killer for you tonight, it was those.
You’re surprised you’re not drooling on yourself. Which is fucking disgusting, but fact. As there is an over-production of saliva in your mouth right now just looking at his legs.
He is so muscly there. The presumed strength of his thighs makes you actually pant, and you never thought legs did it for you like this. But my god right now, they certainly are.
“But I jus’ dunno Y/N,” he turns to you, causing you to snap your gaze from the curve of his ass which you were shamelessly just staring at, back to his face.
It doesn’t get better for you anywhere you look. The man was built and sculpted by a god. Every feature was painstaking to look at, and not be able to touch.
“What d’ya reckon would sound better?” He asks, nonchalantly, unaware you were just eyeing him up.
You feel some shame now, as you scramble to find an answer for the question you don’t even know the context for.
“Well, i think whatever you feel flows better. Yknow?” You swallow, praying to god it’s diluted enough of an answer that he’ll just take it without question.
He nods, and relief floods through you, “i s’pose you’re right.”
However that relief hardly lasts long, because he’s not as clueless as you’d presumed, “You’re pretty good at giving advice even when you’re only half listening.”
He saunters over from the span of deck he’d been pacing the last 10 minutes, sitting down next to you with a smug look on his face. You feel the cushions dip with his body weight, and you’re so delusioned that even a part of you twinges with desire at the understanding of his weight. The idea of him pressing it down on top of you during—
“What’s on ya mind, love, why are you s’faraway lookin’?” He asks, sipping at his drink with a quirk of his dark eyebrows.
“I—“ Christ. He’s manspreading a bit right now… thighs pushed apart, “I’m just tired. Been a big few days.”
His curly, and boyishly-messy hair is cascading over his forehead and casting a shadow of his green gaze, the same one that’s nailing you where you’re sat right now.
He doesn’t look very convinced. And he’s watching your eyes flicker around, looking guilty of a lie, presumably the words that just came from your mouth.
“You don’t have t’lie, dove.” He laughs, a soft songbird-like chuckle that somewhat eases your tenseness.
You feel so dirty for thinking about him like this. When he can’t tell you it’s okay to be imagining absolutely sinful things you’d do… or let be done when it comes to him. However, you are so hormonal right now, that you don’t have it in yourself to stop.
He was just simply the wrong person, in the wrong place, at coincidentally the right time in your hormonal cycle.
And you feel even worse because there’s years of history behind the two of you. And friends are not meant to think of each other like this, it makes things quickly complicated. And this is not a hallmark film.
“I know.” You sigh out, “it’s not you, H. I’m just… hormonal.”
His first thought was that you were on your period, a look of tender concern flitting across his face.
“Oh, is your period making you feel sick?”
You could laugh at the irony. You are infact neither of the things he thinks. Not bleeding, and not ill.
He has looked after you before when you’ve been in the trenches with your period. He is always so willing to get you anything when you’re not feeling well.
And you can tell by the look on his pretty face he’s about to ask you he can get you anything to help— pain relief, water, snacks or simply a hug.
A gentleman, as always.
But if he asks you if you need anything, you only have one answer and that’s him. You need him, and not in a platonic way. So you interject before he can ask,
“No, quiet the opposite.” You shake your head, pursing your lips.
“But it’s fine,” you amend curtly, “just girl stuff.”
The two of you get consumed by a momentary silence, he was waiting for more information, which you simply were not giving. After a few seconds, he sputters out a sudden laugh.
“You can tell me, if you want, idiot.” He laughs, nudging you with his knee. His very attractive leg being left pressed into yours. “Gross details and personal stuff never usually stop us.”
Your whole body is burning up, overwhelmed. He is so fucking hot, and caring. You want him filling up your goddamn throat.
“No, trust me. This is all left best untold and ignored. I can’t help it, so we’re just ignoring it.” Your tone is certain, and to this he nods. Able to tell that’s as much of an answer he’d be getting for now, so he begrudgingly accepts it.
“Fine, fine, you’re just so stiff. Need t’relax.” He slides his free hand behind your back to pull him into his side.
Tugging you the small distance between you two, your head comes naturally to rest in the crook of his neck. Nose inhaling the woodsy scent of his cologne, smelling like the refreshingly cool breeze on a muggy summer night.
His thumb strokes a delicate back and forth rhythm on the bare skin it’s found between the waistband of your jeans and the hem of your fitted top.
It’s killing you, because he’s so gentle with you. Such a sweetheart really, but you’re breaking out a sweat at the feeling of his fingertips against your skin. You need a cold shower.
You try not to let your eyes wander down to the legs in those fucking jeans.
“S’long as ya alright,” he murmurs into your hair, “is there anything you need from me? ‘Cause if I can do anything for ya, yknow I would.”
Your stomach drops, how are you even supposed to answer that. Your face heats with even more guilt.
Your internal voice drops in her two cents on the question— your cock, she confidently stated. That was what she wanted.
“No, nothing you can do that’s reasonable, H.” You say, too dangerously close to him dragging the truth out of your needy mouth for your liking.
He tilts his head down to look at the profile of your face, curiously prodding further, “How unreasonable are we talking?”
“Ridiculously and foolishly unreasonable.”
“Why?”
“Sh. Don’t make me tell you, because I don’t want to.” You state defiantly, rolling away from his hold, since now you’re talking about it— although vaguely— it’s just making it worse.
Focusing on it is making the need more intense, your eyes feasting unintentionally on his muscled body relaxing on the couch.
He’s got this smirk on his lips. One you want to kiss off.
“You’re blushing, is it that bad?”
You scoff, “Yes, that bad.”
“Okay… so, it’s not your period, and it’s technically fixable— since you just said it’s unreasonable for me to do it… not impossible.” he’s wondering out loud, watching your every move.
Which now you’ve stood up and started pacing, trying to distract yourself from the pulsing between your legs and the begging voice in your head that wants to touch him so badly.
“Stop being nosey! God!” You frustratedly whine out, and he laughs at your sudden anger at not only him, but at seemingly just being a woman.
“Just trying to help, baby, don’t get mad.” He teases, and between his suddenly mocking mouth, your resolve snaps like a fickle twig.
“Fuck, I’m horny. Harry!” You groan out, covering your eyes over with the palms of your hands so you don’t have to see his likely disgusted face at your confession.
But now that you’ve started you can’t stop, “You just… your fucking legs and thighs are just… I don’t know! I’m ovulating and you’re just really sexy, it’s frustrating and I really want to die right now, H.”
In reality, his brows had just shot up with surprise, lips parting in shock. He could not believe you just admitted that.
He glanced down to his legs. He’s just in jeans, it wasn’t like he felt as though they were anything to write home about.
It shocked him that you even… well obviously the two of you are best friends. But it was rare that topics of sex came up, so all the sudden the conversation being about that and also about you is making his head spin.
Yet something comes over him, he doesn’t think as he speaks his next words, “Tha’s not as unreasonable as you made it out to be.”
You snap your hands down from your face, eyes locking onto his— he doesn’t look repulsed or uncomfortable as you had originally expected. He looks inexplicably open to the topic.
“I’ve got somethin’ you need, somethin’ that can fix it, love.” He states, shrugging his shoulders, his voice going almost sultry, “An’ yknow what I said, hm?”
At your silence— because you’re too stunned to even speak— he finishes the sentence for you, “Said I’d do anything for ya.”
Oh, is this quickly snowballing.
“Harry!” You shake your head, it feeling so wrong to be talking about this with him.
He abandons his drink on the small side table beside the couch, standing up and breaching the distance between you.
“Jus’ say the words, and then im yours.” He lowly whispers, and this is about to make you pass out. You’re clenching around nothing in your underwear, and the proposition is so tempting.
“We shouldn’t though. It’s not your responsibility to… satiate me.” You gulp out, nervous, yet body flaming with heat.
“Y/N, best friends help each other out… tha’s all it has to be, jus’ me making y’feel better.” he says, hand coming to run down your upper arm. And the second you started talking about this, his cock has been twitching where it’s confined his jeans.
“You can make all the decisions, all the calls, m’kay?” The statement was reassuring.
You lean into his touch, caving without anymore of a fight, “Okay… alright. Just… tell me if you change your mind. Please?”
His lips curl into a satisfied smile, feeling his hand get taken by yours. It’s much to risky to be fucking around with your best friend on the families patio, so you lead him down the steps into the dark, open backyard.
They have a pier, that’s lit with small solar lights, and that’s the first place you can that is reasonable enough to go. You tug him along the wooden decking it has, feet drumming against it.
Against a tree was too dark, and you at least want to see his cock if you’re getting the opportunity to touch it.
“On the pier, hey? That desperate.” He teases, and you push him with your free hand into one of its big wooden pillars.
“I want your cock down my throat, how’s that for desperate?” You scoff, pulling a laugh of pure shock from his own lips.
“I’m serious, H.” You look at him, stone cold expression. You are so riled up and ready to touch him that you need immediate confirmation this is something he wants.
“Go on, said you wanted it.”
Before you sink down onto your knees, you question him further, “you want this, though?”
A smile spreads over his mouth, “baby, you’re gonna be able to feel just how much i want this when you get down there. I was bricked the second you said you were horny.”
That was all you needed, dropping to the ground on your knees— now with his consent, your filter completely disappeared.
“Fuck me, Harry. I don’t think you understand how sexy you are.” Hands immediately coming up to squeeze the muscle of his thighs.
He hums a noise as he looks down at you on your knees, “Never thought legs would do it for you, but here we are.”
“Only thing i could think about is digging my nails into your thighs…”
You drag your hands back up to where the buckle of his belt laid, grabbing at it and undoing it. Slipping it out of the loops in his pants in a swift movement.
Leaning forward, you lift the hem of his black shirt, pressing your mouth against his happy trail.
You’re a slut for that little teasing patch of hair that dips below his low jeans. It causes you to whine out, a wordless sound of appreciation as you peck kisses over it.
The button and zipper quickly got undone by your nimble hands, and you finally brush over the prominent bulge that’s perked up in his boxers.
A realisation that you’re about to see your best friends dick for the first time kind of hits you, causing you to roll your lips between your teeth.
His suddenly strained voice comes from above you, “fuck, Y/N, don’t get shy with me. Y’can take me out.”
He’s almost ready to beg, even though this is all technically for you. But he didn’t anticipate how sensitive he would be when it’s a special girls hands running over his bulge.
However that’s exactly how it is, he’s already biting his lip as you cup him through his briefs, head tilted backwards with a sudden shared need.
You draw his jeans further down, “patience, im just enjoying you, pretty boy.”
The doting nickname earns a small groan from his lips, paired with the fact you’re now mouthing at his inner thighs. They’re warm and firm, dusted with dark hairs. You suck the most inner and upper part of his thigh into your mouth, causing him to grunt out.
You busy yourself with that particular part of his skin for a moment, rubbing the backs of your hands around the flesh of his ass. Still unfortunately covered by his briefs.
“So fuckin’ good to me, H.” You muttered into his soft skin, dragging your nose over to kiss the fabric covering his hard cock.
It makes him twitch, “letting me do this… and touch you where I want.”
You sound so out of it, replacing your mouth with your hand momentarily so you can go back to kissing his thighs, teeth impulsively barring over them. He shudders at the sensation.
After a bit more teasing, you finally start to pull the waistband of his black calvins down.
When his cock is fully out, you moan. You straight out moan at the sight of it. It’s glistening tip is a flushed red, beading out a sliver of precum for you, and it was safe to say he’s well equipped.
The two of you curse in sync as you hold him in your hand, feeling the weight as you stroke gently.
“Christ, tha’s good.” He curses out, hips stuttering forward slightly. You take a moment to look up at his face.
His cheeks have gone a slight red, and his lips are shiny from his teeth and tongue constantly running over them. Not to mention the way his lidded eyes are gazing down at you.
You hold eye contact as you lean in to lick over his tip in one solid stroke, watching his face twist in pleasure.
It makes your core drip. Seeing his cock, tasting it, watching him react to your touch. It fuels you to take his tip into your mouth, giving a gentle suck.
Your fingers take refugee digging into his thighs, and you are already loosing you mind with him between your lips. Somehow, you’re almost convinced you could come just from sucking on his dick.
Your self control is completely shattered now, you draw back and spit over his length, listening to him groan out as he watches the action.
“Drool on me, darling.” He says, the gentle demand makes you eager to impress him. You liked the idea of him telling you what to do… maybe even forcing you.
Fuck, you are sick and twisted, you scoffed internally at your self. Yet proceeding to gather your saliva and let it dribble down onto him.
“Thank you, thank you…” you murmur against him, and he twitches at your still airy voice. He would kill to know just how wet you were between your legs.
It was such a sight for you though, seeing him start to get slicked up with your own spit. Your mouth reconnected with him, sliding further down, hand coming up to massage his balls.
You’re whining around him now, starting to move in a sort of rhythm over his cock. You can’t help it, you were becoming frantic at him filling your throat.
The vibration of your mouth sends his hand flying into your hair, drawing a cuss from his lips, “fuck, Y/N…”
You get his cock as far as you can into your mouth without gagging— you’ll leave that for a little later— stroking the remainder. There’s something about the way he takes up the space between your lips, the feeling of his thick cock atop your tongue.
You glance up at him, fingertips teasing the inner parts of his thigh. Just as you look up, you give a harsh suck, hollowing out your mouth and lathing your tongue on the underside of him. Feeling the vein that runs along him.
His head almost bangs back against the wooden beam he’s leaning on, you feel the slight stutter of his hips.
A moan reverberated around you, filling your ears pleasingly. You draw back for a breathe, “you taste so good.”
His hand curls in your hair, panting out, “You’re such a needy girl…”
“Like that?” He asks at the whimper that come from you, “like being told that I see how desperate y’becoming?”
You nod immediately, “please…”
At your way of asking for more dirty talk he smiles, “becoming my little slut? Warming my cock with your mouth just because you’re so horny for it.”
When you don’t reply with words, and only a senseless moan, he taps your mouth with his fingers gently.
“Show me, baby.”
You part your lips almost instantly at his command, jutting your wet tongue out, ready to take him back into your mouth.
He guides his cock back between your lips, and that’s about as far as he gets before you have to take over from him again. All he can register is how hot and warm you’re mouth is as it wraps around him again.
You start to bob your head, taking him all the way down your throat with a slight gag. You’re whining without warrant now, all over his spit slicked cock.
It’s paired with his own moans of pleasure and words of praise as you suddenly draw back, flicking over his wet tip with your tongue, teasing it and making him grunt.
Your soul existence quickly slips to being just about his cock and hearing his noises. Being able to look up at him and see the sweat beginning to sheen over his forehead, and the mess of his soft hair.
His eyes are squeezed shut, and he has to forcibly open them every so often to see you. A reality check for himself that down on her knees, is his best friend. Drooling all over his prick with a insatiable need.
“Good fuckin’ girl.” He states as you take him all the way down your throat again.
“Taking me like the slut y’are. Might ‘ave to fuck you like one later, how’s that sound?” His mouth has gone loose now, brain muddled with only thoughts of you in it.
You suck and nod over him, brain rioting with a yes at his question.
“Probably so wet, so warm.” He mutters in half thought, and the idea of him even thinking of you like that makes you clench multiple times in your panties.
You roll you hips against nothing which he is grateful he caught with his half lidded eyes. The look of sheer desperation that crossed your face.
Moving faster, you starting taking his cock at a pace that immediately made his hand coil tighter in your hair.
“Fuck… im gon’ come faster than I’d like if y’keep— shit— doing that.” He moans, and you draw back quickly.
“Need to taste it… please, Harry.” You beg, forcing your throat back down around him once you’d got a breathe.
You gagged around him in full this time, earning his hips bucking against you.
Strings of dirty talk and cusses were flying out of his mouth, like a litany being repeated over and over. He kept praising you.
“That warm mouth…fuck… fucking me so good baby. Want to keep y’down there for hours, like m’personal little cockslut.”
Your nails dug into the backs of his meaty thighs, making you moan around him. Spit was covering your chin as you moved hastily over his hard prick.
“Like that idea?” He asked gruffly, “making you drool all over me like this until I’m empty, an’ y’ve come in y’panties to the point you’re dripping.”
You feverishly bob your head, sucking hard against him. If his bucking hips and loose mouth are any indicator, he’s getting close.
A few more minutes of your mouth, and he’s swearing, “im gonna come, dove— fuck— where do y’want it?”
Trying not to stop to long, looking up at his flushed face and blown out eyes, you lowly plead, “on my tongue, please…”
“Good slut, good fucking girl!” He slurs out.
You draw back to his tip, eager to taste him properly. You spit messily over his pulsing red head, kitten licking over it while your hand fucks the rest of his length at a fast pace.
It has him a wreck, and before he know it, he’s moaning out so loud he’s almost scared he woke someone in the house up.
“Fuck! I’m going to come, baby, im gonna come!”
You watch in completely infatuation as his eyes screw shut and his mouth drops into a gasp for air. You feel his hips stutter, and his cock pulse and twitch as it releases onto your awaiting tongue.
He tastes so good. You feel ashamed for even liking it that much, but as it spurts out his tip and drips onto your lower lip, your insane over it.
You rub it in with his tip, coating it over your tongue, and he pants as he opens his eyes to watch you.
It’s a sight etched into his mind forevermore. The fact his come is painted all over your tongue right now.
“Swallow it, pretty girl, let me watch.” He exhaustedly instructs you, voice raspy and deep in his post orgasm haze.
You do as told, and realising some has spilt even onto the corner of his thigh now that you’ve let him go.
Not letting it go to waste, you clean it off with a lick of your still eager mouth. Gently kissing over the spot as well.
“Taste so good, H.” You whisper against him, moving over to kiss his tip a final time.
“Thank you, again. For letting me do that…” You almost feel more satisfied than you would have if you had gotten to come as well.
“Made me feel amazing, baby.”
Or so you thought, because once he raised the point again… “If you want, since I can only imagine how desperate your little cunt is, I can return the favour somehow?”
And it was impossible to say no when he looked like that, boxers still half down his beautiful legs and face flushed that sexy shade of red.
You were in for a night, that was for sure. So much for an early morning.
———
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kayleigh-83 · 4 months
Note
Hi, could you share which ROS events you use please 😀
I know I'd shared these a couple times before, but I scrolled back a bit and it's definitely changed a lot since the last time, which was August 2022! Back then I had 48 on the list, now it's up to 70.
Putting more info and the full list behind a cut to save your dash!
I just keep all my gameplay notes and stuff on my ipad, easiest for me. I don't use an ROS program or anything so there's no weighting, no major or minor scenarios etc. I just use Siri or random.org to pick a number.
The scenarios are a mix of other people's lists I've found, plus ones I've made up myself. It's pretty nice to my Sims so there aren't any death or divorce ones or anything lol. I've removed some I used to use as my gameplay has evolved, if they no longer fit.
Day out - all eligible Sims go to a community lot
Movie night - invite friends over for a movie and snacks
Picnic - make food and go to a park for a picnic
Family reunion - invite over any known family members
Blind date - call matchmaker for a single Sim
New outfit - your Sim wants a new outfit, go shopping
Games night - no homework for kids, play games all night
Large pet adoption - get a cat or a dog, Roll dice to choose
Small pet adoption - a small caged animal will join the family (including rabbits)
Grouchy - your Sim picks d4 arguments with another
Vacation time - spend a couple nights away at a vacation destination (or more!)
Fitness regime - your Sim wants to work out, get fit and eat healthy
Rebellious - child or teen skips school and doesn’t do homework for 1 to 3 days, sneaks out, bad interactions
Date night - take a Sim couple out on a date
It’s a phase - a child will only wear a costume for 1 to 3 days, teens get a piercing or drastically change appearance
Party time - throw a party!
Friendly neighbour - chat up the next d3 walk bys
Bad influence - influence someone to do something stupid d4 times
Take advantage - influence someone to do you a favor d4 times
Exchange student - host a teenager from a foreign country; receive $5000 from the exchange agency to cover your expenses
Tired of cooking - order delivery at least once a day for 2 to 4 days
Shopaholic - patronize at least 4 different local businesses this round
Stray love - greet and interact with the next stray you see, try to adopt
Old pets, new tricks - teach a pet a new command
Lottery win - roll dice 1 to 10 and multiply by 10,000
Scratch card win - roll dice 1 to 10 and multiply by 1000
Worst fears realized - fulfill 5 fears in a rotation
Barber shop - change your Sim’s hairstyle
Four eyes - your Sim needs to get glasses
Witchy - become a witch for at least two rotations
Redecorate - choose a room or space in the home and give it a facelift
Identity crisis - change aspiration for this round
Reconnect with friends - invite 2-4 friends for an outing
Make Your Move - if single, try to initiate a romantic relationship with a Sim that you have a high relationship/chemistry with
Time to Commit - if you’re in a romantic relationship but uncommitted, take it to the next level (either go steady or engagement/marriage depending)
Scary dare - visit the cemetery at night
Dine out - go out to a restaurant to have a meal
Lead by Example - have your Sim encourage their child in a trait they value
Kitchen Renovations - no dishwasher or stove, just a sink and microwave or toaster oven, while you wait for the new appliances to arrive! (D4 days)
On the prowl - take a single (or romance) Sim out on the town to pick someone up for woohoo (or teen level activities)
Hobby Focus - Spend at least two hours every day doing an activity for your chosen hobby
Brace face - child or teen Sim must get braces for the round
Dye Job - dye hair a different colour for the round
Slumber Party - teen or child invites friends over for a sleepover
Cool Parent - try to befriend d2 of your kid’s friends
Playing Matchmaker - influence a friend to flirt with someone else
ISBI light - pick a Sim and control only them for 3 days
Creature of the Night - become a vampire for the round
Unexpected Tax Bill - lose d20-40% of your family funds to unpaid back taxes
Power outage - d2 days with no power (only make uncooked meals)
Family Heirlooms - inherit d3 family heirlooms from a distant relative; use kaching and purchase items of around $1000 each
Infertility - your Sim is sadly no longer able to have children!
Orphan relation - a close relation has died, leaving their child orphaned! As the closest living relative, you are now the legal guardian. Move in a toddler or child (d2). Receive $5000 from the government for your generosity to help raise the little tyke.
Rocky relationship - couple argues at least 2 times a day in the round
Great aunt/uncle in town - create an elderly Sim to come stay for the round - after they become a townie if desired
Bylaw fine - your Sim put the trash out to the curb too early and have received a bylaw fine - d6 x $100
Start a club! Find up to 3 Sims who share your hobby, and get to know them better. If you can participate in your chosen hobby together, even better!
Money tree! Your Sim finds a mysterious tree in a pot by their front door. The note on it says to use it wisely because it will only be around for a short time? Buy a money tree and keep for one rotation
Resurrect old friendships - call and invite over the friend your Sim has lost touch with the most (lowest relationship score while still being friends)
Customer appreciation day - to thank your loyal customers for their patronage, mark down the prices at your shop for a day and provide treats for your customers
Ambrosia - take a sip from the elixir of life (Roll to choose between adults or elders in the household)
Mate like rabbits - risky woohoo d5 times in the next 48 hours, hope there aren’t any unintended consequences!
Unexpected vet bill! Your little companion swallowed something they shouldn’t have and the bill comes to $5000! If you don’t have enough money, you might have to take out a loan.
Woohoo scavenger hunt - must woohoo on/in four different possible locations this round (bed, couch, car, photobooth, hot tub, changing booth, elevator)
Lost a dare - walk around in a silly costume for d3 days, go on at least one date or outing in it
Holding a Torch - your Sim is feeling nostalgic for their first crush; have them meet up for a date and see where it leads…
Running with the pack - become a werewolf for the round
I Want More! - your Sim now has six want slots
Changing Preferences - change all your turn ons and turn offs - will this affect how you feel about your significant other?
A Sudden Craving - change to grilled cheese aspiration for the round
Kibble of Life - give your four legged friends something to help keep them around longer
Sudden Poverty - family funds reduced to $100
Sudden Weath - family funds increased to $250,000
You Can't Always Get What You Want - try not to fulfill any wants for d5 days
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lale-txt · 2 years
Text
♡ taking care of them when they have a fever ➳ w/ Kid, Mihawk & Rayleigh
a/n: i… i fought Tumblr text editor so long and hard for this and it‘s still a mess oh my god. anyway enjoy those silly little headcanons, i love putting those lads into ✨situations✨
Tumblr media
Kid
simply the worst patient you can ever imagine <3
when falling sick, he goes through the five stages of grief several times a day
denial: „i am not sick, what the fuck are you talking about“, he asks with a runny nose and face almost as bright red as his hair, beads of sweat running down his temples, barely able to stand up straight
Killer and you just exchange a look and brace yourself for what‘s coming next
anger: ever saw a tulip explode? now you will
don‘t mind the claw marks on the ground when Killer drags Kid by one leg to bed while the captain combusts and grunts out curses you‘ve never heard before
lots of shouting and yelling and middle fingers being raised with the last bit of energy he has left before you watch Killer pull out some wrestling moves to get the tulip into bed. it‘s like watching two grizzlies fight
feel free to join but be prepared to get bitten in the ass
bargaining: so Kid is in bed, blanket pulled up to his nose, breathing heavily
it‘s when it all sinks in. the realization that maybe he should have covered up those honkers when visiting that winter island. Kid was a South Blue child after all, not used to the cold
don‘t disturb him during that phase, just enjoy the silence while he ponders on every life choice he made that led him here
depression: that‘s when he will call you and the other crew members into his cabin one by one despite you telling him he‘ll just spread his germs that way, but Kid doesn‘t care. he feels like he‘s dying from that common cold and he needs to tell everyone his last words
don‘t flinch when he clutches his metal fist around your hand and rattles something about how he doesn‘t mind when you fall in love again after he dies, but preferably with Killer because then he‘ll know from heaven (or hell) that you‘re in good hands (followed by an hour long monologue on why Killer is the greatest man ever existing)
acceptance: so Kid realized he might not die today but his throat is still sore and all the yelling probably didn‘t make it any better
bring him some tea, tuck him in and kiss his forehead, he‘ll pass out in a minute and the whole thing will repeat a few more times on his way to recovery
Kid is gonna act like none of this has happened once he is back to his old self but he‘ll still make sure to pull you into a hug and mumble a Thank You against your skin, followed by making up for all the kisses he couldn‘t give you during that time
Mihawk
have you ever tried giving your pet any kind of medicine? it was bad, wasn‘t it? then good luck with this man because he is worse
it‘s hard to imagine that someone as perfect as Mihawk could fall sick with a fever, but here you are, standing with a glass of water and painkillers in your hands next to him while he‘s passed out on the couch
„get those away from me“, he mumbles like a dying peasant who is confronted with his own mortality in the face of a common cold 
even with his strength being robbed he is still much stronger than you, using this fact to his advantage (by rolling over flat on his stomach, face down, so you can‘t hold the glass of water against his lips)
give him five minutes for some frustrated groaning until he admits his defeat and finally reaches for the things in your hands
brace yourself for a silent staring duel when he asks for a glass of red wine to wash down the painkillers
he‘s lucky that you‘re in love so madly and deeply with him and have all the patience in the world to bear with him, knowing well he would pamper you too if you ever fell sick (you remembered how he pulled out a whole first aid kit as if he was ready to perform emergency surgery when you cut your finger slightly once while cooking together)
Mihawk would hate the fact that you see him in such a weak state but deep down he is still happy to have you by his side during his darkest hours
he‘ll have a few fever dreams and will be startled, probably panting something about his crops and how he gotta look after them
just gently push him back down by his shoulders and calm him down by telling him that you watered the garden and that the tomatoes are looking plump and ripe and ready for harvesting once he‘s back to full health
he‘ll ask you to read him from his favorite romance novels before he drifts back to sleep
Mihawk will cook you the fanciest dinner to show you his gratitude for nursing him back to health, including the most expensive bottle of red wine and kitchen dances together
Rayleigh
„you‘re burning up, Ray.“
you look at him worried, hands on his cheek and forehead to feel his temperature
Rayleigh just sighs, pushes his glasses up his hair, pinches the bridge of his nose and accepts his defeat
the Dark King knows that there‘s a limit on how much you can push a sick body and that the only cure is rest
after all, he had watched Roger struggle during his illness when no one else was watching; it made him realize that every action has its toll and us humans are fragile little things
he will do his best to not make you worry, after everything he‘s been through at his age a simple cold won‘t take him out
sure, he will try to send you home so he doesn‘t pass on the fever to you, but you insist on staying by his side — after all it was „in sickness and in health“ what you vowed to
a fact that earns you a lot of forehead kisses and the inevitable fate that you‘ll be down with a fever as well a few days later (where Rayleigh will take care of you as well, of course)
he is an easy patient on his best behaviour, drinking up the tea you brewed for him and staying in bed with the newspaper and some card games (since he can‘t go gambling)
Rayleigh will hum and lean deep into your touch when you run him a bath and wash his hair, your fingers massaging every bit of tension out of him
knowing you can‘t resist his charm he‘ll ask you to join him in the bath tub. just do it. the old man is needy and a little cold won‘t stop him from using his hands to return a little favor…
Rayleigh is a restless man, never one for settling down completely or staying in one place for too long, but those days in bed together are surprisingly nice and help him to recover quickly, thanks to your committed care
countless kisses on your skin show you his gratitude and blur the line between heat and fever…
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writing-whump · 1 month
Text
Heart
Isaiah was happy. So very happy he could burst.
That's why, when he woke up on Sunday with a squeezing sensation around his chest, he decidedly ignored it. There was no way he was going to let any of that ruin the happiness he found.
He managed incredible things this year. A pack, sort of a balance between his duties and job, his girl, his brothers...everything was working out. Better than he planned, better than he hoped.
Isaiah was healed. The heart troubles started when he left the Wolfson pack—when the years of his father's abuse and damage to his shadow tore through once he was somewhat safe—but that was over now. The issues were fixed, the hurts were mended, the wrongs were righted.
His soul was healed. There was no reason why his shadow or his heart should be giving him any trouble.
It was very early in the morning, but Isaiah liked to wake up that soon. He could make breakfast, enjoy the peaceful morning, get himself ready before turning his attention to everyone else.
So he was feeling a little lethargic today. Nothing specifically wrong or hurting, just this strange general feeling of malaise, like he was coming down with something. Simple fatigue he could shake off.
Maybe he was a little lightheaded as he was making coffee. There was this mild tingling in his jaw and arms, like tiny needles prickling him there.
Isaiah decided he better shake that off before anyone noticed. How lucky was he that he always managed to get through his heart episodes without Seline noticing? It was the key to happiness.
Cause he was going to fix it. Himself. By being happy.
"You are awake early," Matthew greeted him with a yawn, hair all ruffled from sleep.
Isaiah put the freshly made coffee on the table, tugging at the collar of his shirt. "I'm glad you are taking a break from running. Feeling better again? You can go back to sleep."
Matthew huffed at him but ended up on the couch, eyes still sleepy and gluing together. "Where are you going? So dressed up and ready."
Isaiah shrugged. "I think I'll go for a quick walk before Seline wakes up and stop by the store and make Tiramisu. We need cakes that don't need to be baked in this heat."
Matthew shook his head at him. "Aren't you overdoing it a little?"
"But it's so fun," Isaiah said with a giant smile spilling on his face. "Be right back."
Isaiah left quickly after, walking briskly. The streets were still empty this early on Sundays, it felt like he was the only resident in a town of ghosts. He relished the quiet.
And the fresh air. Surely this fatigue or what it was could be shaken off.
Isaiah didn't want to slow down, but once he reached the big shopping mall, he was panting for breath. Maybe he was the one who should start running. Workouts and sparring were good, but he was not supposed to be out of breath this quickly.
Ah whatever. He would shop, make the cake. It was a good excuse to invite Hector and Arnie over as well. Having them all in one place, making them closer could be fun.
The needle prickles were growing more intense as he reached the inside. Isaiah braced against the wall for a moment, catching his breath. What was with the tingling? He was also covered in sweat, though it wasn't hot yet. Come on, now. He wasn't walking that fast.
Everything was fine. He was fine. There hadn't been a happier phase in his life. It couldn't be more alright than it was.
Then why was his chest squeezing and heart flipping like something terrible was about to happen?
Isaiah made a few more steps towards the glass railing with the view of the underground floor with the shops. The world was coming in and out of focus, black spots dancing in his vision. Like he was about to pass out.
He hadn't eaten yet; he had just had some coffee. It was hunger. Or he was exhausted; that should be it. His stomach was clenching like a fist was in his insides, pulling it in. Heartburn from yesterday?
It was fine. He was fine.
His left arm, jaw and neck were prickling. A persistent ache demanding his attention. A sudden retch had him pushing away from the railing.
He was fine.
Though maybe he should find a bathroom first. Something wasn't agreeing from yesterday. That was it.
He stumbled towards the public bathrooms and locked himself inside the stall. Sweat was covering his face, his arms, his neck, he was overflowing with it. His chest felt constricted like he couldn't get enough air in. Not around whatever the big rock was, that was currently crushing his ribcage.
Isaiah doubled over. His limbs were shaking so much he had to kneel on the floor, retching towards the toilet. The coffee came up with a violent splash.
He couldn't breathe. He grabbed at his shirt, ripping the buttons away to free his neck up. Clutched at the left side of his chest, where his heart was beating at crazy speed along his harsh breathing. The prickling turned to pain, shooting up from his chest towards his back, his arms.
He retched again. His chest was being squashed, his ribs turning into dust. The sense of impending doom worsened, blood rushing in his ears.
Not now. Please, not now. He was happy, he didn't have time for this.
People died because they succumbed. He had read about experiments with prisoners who were told they had poison applied to their veins although it was nothing toxic and died from believing it. He would let no such thing happen. He would will himself to fight back.
He would not lose this. Not now. Just not now.
His body sank under gravity towards the floor. He couldn't really feel it, he couldn't feel anything past the overwhelming pressure over his chest, unrelenting and all-consuming.
It had never felt this bad before.
The last thing he remembered was someone knocking at the door, asking if he was alright.
...
Isaiah was taking a long time with that shopping.
Seline woke up earlier, impatient to see him. She was so happy after everything from yesterday she couldn't wait. When he wasn't coming while she sat in the living room next to dozing Matthew, she even went up to change. Get all ready so they could make the cake together. Have breakfast on the balcony before it got too hot.
She ended up texting Isaiah where he was, but he didn't read it. Weird.
Then an unknown number appeared on her phone. Seline was tempted not to take it, but oh well. It would work as a distraction.
She took the call. Had to stand up while she listened and then leaned against the couch so suddenly she thought she would fall.
Isaiah Wolfson, yes? Emergency contact. Hospital. Can you come?
Seline didn't feel her lips or how she said she would be there soon.
Something about her tense voice must have woken Matthew up, because out of the blue he was standing too. Likely simply heard what was said in the phone.
He took her hand as he grabbed Isaiah's car keys. They were out of the apartment in the next ten seconds.
...
...blocked coronary artery...he regained consciousness in the ambulance...symptoms have been going on for several years...a condition called unstable angina...a type of chest pain caused by reduced blood flow to the heart...occurs when the arteries that supply blood to the heart—specifically the coronary arteries—are significantly narrowed or blocked by plaques...when they rupture, it leads to the formation of blood clots...
..without immediate intervention, the affected heart muscle begins to die, which is why this situation is so critical...
...stress and ongoing strain can aggravate the condition significantly...had several smaller episodes and cardiac arrests before, the tissue is scarred...
...performing an operation called angioplasty as we speak...
Seline was pretty sure she was dreaming. The guy in the white coat was blabbering on and on about symptoms and medications that will be needed to prevent heart attacks in the future and for managing pain.
"I have never seen such extensive damage on someone so young. And he is a shadow wolf too. I'm sorry, but we had to use silver instruments. His shadow healed our interventions, but not the blockage."
At this point, Seline wouldn't have been suprised if the guy sprouted wings and flied away. It would be just as likely as this.
Isaiah had a heart attack. At 25. At the mall. Just like that. Despite being healthy, a shadow wolf, undiagnosed with any heart conditions, never complaining about any kind of discomfort.
"But how...how?" Seline managed to say.
"It's common for coronary artery disease to progress gradually, often over many years, until a severe event like this happens. The good news is that with the operation we're doing, we can restore blood flow to the heart, and with the right medications and lifestyle changes, we can manage the condition going forward."
"So the cause..."
"We aren't exactly sure what is causing the unstable angina, just that it must have been developing for a long time to get to this stage. CAD is the most common underlying issue, but with him being a wolf...it's a very unique case. That is why we assume his shadow has to be damaged as well, or the stress wouldn't be able to leave such lasting marks on him."
"Right." Seline looked between the middle-aged doctor and Matthew standing by her side.
"It's not an uncommon problem. The operation is going well so far, almost at the end. We'll be able to tell you more in a few hours, but we are very positive right now."
Oh, they were positive. How reassuring.
"You are members of his pack, yes? How often did he mention this to you? Sometimes people brush off these things as minor. Has he been complaining about chest pain or discomfort more often recently? Did he ever mention any episodes of dizziness, nausea, or sweating? Do you know if he’s been under a lot of emotional strain lately?"
Seline stared at the doctor uncomprehendingly. Mention? Complain? Noticed? Huh?
Matthew cleared his throat. "It's been going on for some time. Couple of months, but not more often lately or anything."
Seline turned to stare at him.
"How often would you say?" The doctor asked casually, like he didn't notice the floor just shattered underneath them and that the planet just stopped in its tracks.
"Several times a month?" Matthew answered thoughtfully. "Usually from stress. Last time he had a fever it got a bit worse too, but..."
The doctor wrote something down. Asked a couple more questions. His voice faded in and out.
There were more promises happening that they would keep them updated, and more guesses about the estimated duration of the surgery.
Seline floated down the hall towards the chairs, completely numb. This could not be real.
Matthew sat down beside her. He was silent for a long minute.
"You knew?" Seline made herself say what was obvious.
Matthew looked at her, lips pressed together and nodded.
Seline mirrored the movement. "I see." Funny, despite the numbness, she knew exactly when her heart broke—right in that moment.
A flood of emotions followed. Shock. Disbelief. Betrayal. Shame. Another blast of betrayal. A profound sense of failure.
Pain, pain, pain.
She shifted away from Matthew, his knee next to hers feeling too close. Her hands wrapped around her chest as she shrank into herself.
"Seline, I-I'm sorry. He begged me not to tell you and he felt so humiliated as it was...you know how scared and irrational he gets about needing help- and I was worried that if I insisted, he wouldn't let me be there for him even for that bare minimum he did-"
Matthew reached for her shoulder and she flinched away.
He froze.
Seline stood up slowly, whole body turned away from him.
"Sel-" he whined.
"Right. I get it," she said, voice cold. "Leave me alone for a minute."
Of course she would be back. Compared to Isaiah dying on that table, to the treatment and medication he would need to be taking, to his recovery were her feelings entirely insignificant.
Even worse, they could be a burden right now. She couldn't let them stop her from doing what needed to be done. To not be there for him, when he needed her and Matt more than anytime before.
Did he need her though?
She walked down the hospital hall like a zombie until she reached the bathrooms. Braced against the sink, she watched her expression in the mirror.
There were things to be done. More than anything she needed him to survive. To be okay. Everything else could come later.
It didn't matter what they could have done to prevent it or what they haven't done. Or whose fault it was. What the cause was. It didn't matter now.
Seline just needed to put all those flooding emotions back. Cut them off. She could do to. She had done it many times.
It was harder this time. After she had let them out so consciously, after she let herself feel them, it was so much harder to put them back into boxes and forget.
Maybe for just a bit she could get some release so she could concentrate better. On the operation, on what Isaiah needed.
She went to the stall, locking herself up. At least the bathroom was quiet. Glad she chose a place by the window, she slid down the wall.
Hugging her knees to her chest, the first tears sprang to her eyes. Then sobs. Ugly and loud. She didn't hold them back. Just this once.
Cry and let go. Just so she could concentrate. Just this once.
The rest would come later.
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topguncortez · 2 years
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The Origin of Honeybee
pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female Reader (OC: Bea Clark) word count: 3.5k warnings: angsty, smutty, language, teen pregnancy, religious trauma themes Bob & Bea Masterlist | Opposites Attract Masterlist
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It was a fairy tale love story. The two high school sweethearts who were never seen apart. But, it had started before that fateful day in junior year when Bob found the bravery to ask you out officially. He knew you were going to be his from the first day you walked into his father’s 5th grade classroom. You had started the school year late, beginning in October. Your mom had taken over for a teacher who decided to quit during the school year. Mr. Floyd had introduced you to his class, and Bob couldn’t take his eyes off you. 
You were mesmerizing, your eyes hidden behind a pair of blue glasses, your hair in pigtails which you had fought your mom on saying that they made you seem too little kiddish, and the most noticeable, a bright pink cast on your right arm. You had taken the only open seat, right next to Bob, by his father’s desk. You two didn’t say anything, paying attention to the math lesson his dad was teaching. It wasn’t until you went to lunch, you sat at the only empty table, opening your purple lunch box and pulling out the PB&J your dad had packed. Bob walked over to you, you looked up at him,
“Can I sit with you?” He asked shyly and you nodded. He sat across from you, opening his Superman lunch box. The two of you sat in silence for a couple moments, eating your home lunches until Bob spoke up. 
“I’m Bobby,” Bob introduced himself softly.
“Beatrice, but everyone calls me Bea,” You said.
“What happened to your arm?” He asked.
“Fell off a four wheeler at my grandma’s house,” You said wiggling your fingers, “They had to put a metal rod in,”
“Are you serious?” Bob asked, his blue eyes wide. 
“So serious,” You said with a smile. The two of you didn’t separate for the rest of the day, getting to know one another. At the end of the day, Bob walked over to you, he didn’t say anything but held up a black magic marker. You nodded and held out your casted arm, and in very scribbly handwriting Bob wrote his name.
— — — 🌼🐝 🌼🐝 🌼🐝 — — — 
It was from that point on, the two of you were inseparable. No one ever saw Bob without Bea, and vice versa. They had moved on from playdates after school, to begging parents and older siblings to take them to the roller rink, to sneaking sips of alcohol at Bob’s older brother Ben’s legendary bon fires. You were lucky to have someone by your side to battle that awkward first of high school, where everyone was starting to change, but they never seemed to change. The only change was that Bob’s father had died your freshman year. You sat by his side the whole time during the funeral, holding his hand and occasionally wiping a tear from his face. 
“Have you been asked to homecoming?” Ben asked you, as he sat on the couch in the Floyd family basement. 
You shrugged, you were shy, no one had noticed you outside of your friends. You had gotten braces over the summer, and were constantly checking the wires on your teeth in the screen of your phone. You had also started the joyous life of being a woman. Puberty had hit both you and Bob. You guys had now started to move into that awkward phase of life, where you were trying to figure out what was happening and if you found someone else attractive or if it was just the newly released hormones.
“Well since it’s your first homecoming, I’ll take you. . . and Bob.” Ben said and glared at his younger brother who was setting up his model train set. 
Bob was thankful that Ben had asked you to go with both of them. It made it easier for him to suppress his feelings a little longer. The only person who he confided in about how he felt was Ben. Bob wasn’t jealous of your relationship with his brother, your and Ben’s relationship was brother-sister. You constantly butt heads but would make up with a joke or buying the other food. Ben had purposely ditched the two of you at Homecoming to dance with Megan Stevens, making you and Bob have to not only talk to each other alone, but dance with each other too.
Freshman year fall faded into the summer, and the boys were busy working on the ranch. You hardly saw the two of them unless you were helping their mother Elizabeth cook dinner, or they needed your help with something. While Bob was sweating in the sun every day, you tried out for the cheer team and made it. You had fallen in love with the varsity quarterback, Logan Brooks, and had decided to join the cheer team. You got your braces off and had figured out a good hair care routine. Your new found confidence was radiant, and the boys could see it.
Much to Bob’s dismay, you had started to slip away from him, spending more time with your new cheer friends and boyfriend. Bob had fought his shyness and stood next to his older brother in the front row of the stands during every football game. Ben knew that Bob didn’t care much about the team, but was there to watch your bright smile as you cheered along the side lines. 
“I don’t even understand football,” Bob said.
“It's easy,” Ben said, explaining the game to him, but Bob absent mindedly nodded along, his eyes looking at you cheering in front of him. 
“If you don’t ask Bea to prom this year, I’m gonna ask her,” Ben said, snapping Bob out of his daze.
“What? Why would you do that? And what makes you think she won’t go with Logan?” Bob said.
“Cause Logan’s eyes aren’t staring at Bea’s ass right now,” Ben said and pointed towards the quarterback, who’s eyes were looking at another girl. 
Bob grimaced and frowned. He saw the way you smiled and hugged Logan’s sweaty frame as he walked off the field after winning. Bob also saw the way Logan was looking at another girl from the other team, as you talked to him about how good he did during the game.
— — — 🌼🐝 🌼🐝 🌼🐝 — — — 
“I don’t even know what I did wrong?” You cried, rubbing your nose with a crumbled up Kleenex. Ben was standing in the doorway to his and Bob’s room, as you sat on Bob’s bed. Some sad song was playing on the record player and Bob was handing you more Kleenex. 
Logan had started to be secretive and distant. He was constantly on his phone, hiding it from you. The nicknames and PDA had stopped, and so did most of the daily conversations between the two of you. It wasn’t until you went to deliver him some cookies for his birthday that you had spotted the white BMW in the driveway. He opened the door, shirtless and light bruises covered his abs and collar bone. He didn’t even have to say anything, but you knew. Logan had called out to you as you threw the cookie dish at his car and flipped him off walking away.
“We should go egg his house,” Ben said, “Or go all Carrie Underwood with a Louisville slugger,”
“Ben,” Bob said and shook his head no, “He’s an idiot, honeybee.” The nickname that Elizabeth had given her years ago fell so easily from Bob’s lips, “He didn’t even realize how lucky he was to have you,” You looked up at Bob, those E/C that he had fallen in love with wet with tears. He sat next to you on your bed, his arm thrown around you, while Sam sat in your beanbag chair, “You want to watch a movie?”
“Tommy Boy?” You asked, it was your favorite movie, you could almost quote it word for word.
“Well, thank you both for the invite but I gotta go pick up Olivia for our date,” Ben said, winking at his younger brother. Ben came and kissed your forehead, “It’ll all be okay, Bea. But if you wake up and see my face on the front page for egging or slashing a hole in all four tires, it was for a good cause,”
You laughed at the boy and Bob said goodbye to his brother. You two settled in, watching the movie. At some point in time you had both fallen asleep, but when you woke up, Bob’s arms were wrapped around your waist and your head was on his chest. It was then that you realized that you were falling in love with your best friend.
— — — 🌼🐝 🌼🐝 🌼🐝 — — — 
There was an obvious shift between the two of you. Everyone could see it, Bob’s siblings, Ben, your parents, Bob’s mom. It was just a matter of time until you two could see it. You both felt the love you had for each other, but both were too stubborn and scared to act on it. It wasn’t until you brought home another boy that Bob knew his window of opportunity was closing. So while you were walking around, pacing the basement floor ranting about whatever his name was, Bob stood up.
“Bea, he doesn’t deserve you. None of them do,” Bob said, “Does he even know your favorite flower? Or what color do you prefer of your favorite flower?”
“No but-“
“It’s orange roses,” Bob said, “You said you hate the cliche white and red, that you prefer orange but will settle for yellow. You fell in love with them when your grandma accidentally planted an orange rose bush when she got sick with dementia. She tried to dig them up, but your grandpa told her that they were unique and beautiful just like she was. You said that was the moment you believed in true love.”
You looked at Bob, his honey brown eyes staring into yours. Your body moved quicker than your brain, and you grabbed his face, connecting your lips together. He grabbed your hips, pulling you into him as you both melted into the kiss. It was like time stopped, and fireworks exploded behind you.
“Ah!” Ben yelled, opening the basement door, “Mom! It’s happening!” He smiled and ran over to go get his mom, leaving the two teens who now had deep red blushes across their cheeks.
— — — 🌼🐝 🌼🐝 🌼🐝 — — — 
You and Bob seemed to be even closer than ever before. Like always, where anyone saw Bob, you were surely to follow. When they told their friends that they had finally started dating, everyone let out a sigh in relief followed by a “finally”. It seemed as though you and Bob were the only ones who were oblivious to the love that you both had for each other. 
Prom was supposed to be the most important night of a young girl's life, but you were absolutely terrified. You had been hyper fixating on your dress and thinking of all the things that can go wrong when you put it on. Your mother did your hair, deciding to curl it and leave it down. Your dress was black, you went for simple (partially because it was what you could afford). Bob was just as nervous as you as he sat on your couch, your dad staring him down. He held onto the plastic box with your corsage with all his might. He was sure that he was sweating through the rental tux. The moment he heard your mother come down the stairs and he stood up, his blue eyes going wide. 
“My god, honeybee,” Bob sighed out and your father glared at him. Bob walked from the couch over to the bottom of the stairs and held his hand out for you. You smiled and took his hand, “You’re gorgeous.” 
“Thank you,” You said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, “You clean up nicely.” 
“Oh, Bea, be nice to that boy,” Your mom said, “Get close for pictures!” 
You probably took a thousand pictures in front of your fireplace. Your face was hurting from smiling so much. Bob had spent all morning cleaning his truck so you didn’t get your dress dirty. He helped you get into the old Ford, making sure that no part of the dress would get stuck in the door. Your mom smiled fondly at the two of you as you drove off. 
“They’re going to get married someday,” Your dad muttered and looked at his wife, “He looks at her the way I look at you.” 
“I know,” Your mom said and kissed her husband. 
You and Bob danced until your feet hurt and he ended up carrying you in his arms back to his truck at the end of the night. There was too much excitement in the air to just go home and go to sleep, so instead, Bob drove you out to the old Oak tree in the middle of his family’s ranch. The night was clear and you could see all of the stars from where you laid in the back of his truck. He put a blanket down so you wouldn’t dirty your dress and you would be somewhat comfortable. 
Though stargazing only lasted so long, and soon enough you were in a heated make out session in the back of Bob’s truck. His hands were grazing all over your body as if he couldn’t get enough of you. Your hands tugged on his long locks, his curls curling a bit under his ears. You loved his longer hair, you thought it made him look perfectly older. 
“Bob,” You moaned as he kissed your neck. 
“Yeah?” He asked, grinding his hips into yours. 
“Make me yours,” You said barely above a whisper. Bob pulled away from you and looked at you. 
“Are-are you sure?” He asked, caressing your cheek, “We don’t have to do anything just cause it’s prom night. Hell, that’s such a dumb-” You cut him off by kissing him. 
“Bobby,” You said, holding his jaw with your hand, “Make me yours.” 
“Don’t gotta tell me twice, honeybee,” Bob said, his voice a bit raspy as he leaned back in and kissed you. You guys fell into a frenzy of roaming hands and kisses, stripping each other of your clothes. You guys looked at each other, having to see each other naked and being intimate for the first time. You laid under Bob, eyes roaming all over his body, “You are even more perfect than I imagined,”
“You imagined me?” You smirked and Bob blushed.
“Once or twice,” He said and leaned in to kiss you, “Do you want to do this?” He asked you again, his blue eyes full of love.
“Make me yours, Bobby.”
— — — 🌼🐝 🌼🐝 🌼🐝 🌼🐝 — — — 
You had been sicker than a dog for nearly three weeks. Bob was starting to worry when you missed yet another day of school, but you were just too weak to even climb out of bed. He had gathered your homework and planned on stopping by to give it to you after school. But the frantic text from you had him rushing into the parking lot and speeding to get to you. 
You were sitting on the couch in tears when he arrived, your mother and father sitting across from you. Bob felt like he just walked into the middle of an intervention, the air was thick with tension. He called out for you, but you shook your head and your father stood up from his chair. 
“Robert Floyd,” Your father’s voice was gruff and all Bob could do was nod, “You got my little girl pregnant?” Bob’s head snapped to you and you seemed to be crying harder than before. 
“I’m so sorry,” You cried and Bob looked back at your dad and nodded. Your mom let out a gasp and left the room quickly, not being able to look at you any longer. 
Your father ran a hand down his face and then put his hands on his hips. His eyes looked at you, “Get out of my house, Beatrice.” 
“Daddy,” You stood up from the couch.
“Wait, Mr. Clark-” 
“You disobeyed the bible!” Your father’s voice was loud and rattled you to your core. Bob watched as you began shaking like a leaf in the wind, “I will not have a sinner and a bastard child under my roof! Look what you did to your mother!” Your dad pointed to the direction your mother went crying, “Gather your things, and get out of my house.” 
Your father stormed out of the room, leaving you and Bob alone. Bob quickly rushed to your side and wrapped you up in his arms. You held onto him tightly, afraid he might disappear on you. Sobs racked your body as Bob tried to shush your tears. 
“Shh, honeybee, breathe,” Bob said, rubbing your back. He couldn’t help the tears welling up in his eyes at the sound of your cries. He wasn’t 100% sure what was going on other than the fact that you were possibly pregnant and your parents had just kicked you out. 
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” You said and Bob pulled back from you. He gently held your face in his hands and wiped your tears away with his thumb, “I didn’t mean for this to happen, Bobby, you have to believe-” 
“I’m not blaming you for anything,” Bob shook his head, “Is what your dad said true? You’re pregnant?” 
You nodded and sniffled, “I haven’t been feeling good for weeks, and I missed my period. I drove to Davis to the drug store and got a pregnancy test and it came back positive. I’m sorry.” 
“Hey, quit apologizing, alright,” Bob said and kissed your forehead, “We’re gonna get through this, together. I’m not leaving you.” 
“What about the Navy? Bob, you have been dreaming of that since you were a kid.” One of  the first things Bob had told you back in the fifth grade, while you dangling upside down from the monkey bars was that he wanted to join the Navy. His dad had been in for a couple years to pay off his student debt, and he loved it. Bob had grown up watching air shows in Virginia beach during the Fourth of July. 
“I’ll figure it out. Whatever you want,” Bob said, and took both your hands in his, “You and this baby are my future, okay,” You nodded and bit your lip as brand new tears threatened to spill. 
“I have no place to go,” You cried and Bob shook his head. 
“Yes you do,” He said, “What do you need? I’ll go get it.” You rattled off a couple items that you can think of off the top of your head and Bob ran up to your room and packed you a bag. Your parents were hiding in the kitchen, far away from you and Bob. They must’ve really been ashamed of you if they couldn’t even say anything as Bob guided you out to his truck. 
The ride to the Floyd ranch was painfully silent. You looked out the window the whole time, resting your hand on your stomach. Bob would steal glances over at you every once in a while. You had stopped crying which was a plus, but your cheeks and nose were still red. When you pulled up in front of the old farmhouse, Bob jogged around to your side of the truck and helped you out. He held your hand the whole time as you walked into the house, the smell of dinner hitting both of your noses. You both could hear Elizabeth Floyd yelling at her younger kids, and the squeals of children running around. 
“Allison Floyd, if you don’t stop messing with your sister!” Elizabeth’s voice was firm as you and Bob walked into the kitchen. She took one look at you and knew what was going on. Call it a mother’s intuition. 
“She needs a place to stay. . . for a while,” Bob said and Elizabeth nodded. 
“You can take Benny’s room down in the basement,” Elizabeth said. You nodded and took your bag from Bob’s hands and made your way down to the familiar room that the eldest Floyd child once inhabited. When you were out of ear shot, Elizabeth looked at her son, “Her parents found out?” 
“Yeah,” Bob said, placing his hands on the back of the chair in front of him, “Kicked her out. I didn’t even know until I got there”
“And what are you gonna do? You gonna step up?” 
Bob nodded, “Of course. That’s my baby. I’m not gonna leave her high and dry. I’ll do whatever she wants to do.” 
“You better not, Robert Floyd. I raised you better than that. Now,” Elizabeth said and walked over to the pantry. Bob watched her a bit confused until she walked out with a sleeve of saltine crackers and a ginger ale, “Go give these to her. Poor girl looks like she hasn’t kept anything down in days.” 
Bob nodded again and took the items from his mom’s hands, “How did you know?”  
Elizabeth sighed, “Cause I had that same look on my face when we told your grandparents I was pregnant with Ben. Now go on, no time for questions.” 
“Thank you,” Bob said and went downstairs to find you.
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the-real-maglev · 2 months
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Reasons you should consider using Triphinx
• Excellent stat spread with a nightmarish 190 ranged attack and 140 in most other stats, only weak point being a pitiful 50 melee attack (but not only is melee attack the less valuable attack stat, it can also use both Shield Bash and Brace For Impact to do melee damage with its 140 defense instead).
• Metal type gives it a favorable matchup against Ice and Poison, which I've found to be quite troublesome types, as well asbeing able to ruin strategies by disturbing Astral types (it can also bully Earth types but Earth is like the second worst defensive type so that's just salting the wound). It's not great as a defensive type though, so be warned (and even then, it can have Grounded to remove one of its weaknesses).
• A movepool so vast that I have to split it up into multiple bulletpoints to get the idea across.
• Astral coverage means it's great for AP draining against several types and destroying walls.
• An honestly absurd utility pool. This thing has Haunt and Phase Shift for some reason. It also has Shrapnel (which doesn't matter much in base game but would absolutely matter in PVP), Close Encounter (legit one of the best status moves you could ask for), Return Fire, AP Steal, Cold Fusion, Air Coating/Camouflage, Mind-Meld and more.
• Thanks to having both Air Camouflage and Glass Cannon, it can do the resonance cheese with a little assistance.
• Ecolocation is broken.
• Offensive movepool just as scary as its utility, though I don't feel like getting specific except for one particular move.
• Triphinx is quite possibly the best Gear Shear user in the game, which is the main reason I wanted to make this post. You'd probably think that it'd be Robindam due to its higher ranged attack, but that's not all there is to it. First off, Gear Shear has -1 priority, so being able to survive a turn to use it is crucial. Robindam's below average melee defense hinders that, however both of Triphinx's defenses are solid, meaning it's more likely to tank the damage to use it. Second, something that gives both Triphinx and Robindam an edge over many Gear Shear users is access to Ecolocation, which allows them to tear through all enemies at once with the move. The biggest factor in this though is typing. Robindam is Plastic type, while Triphinx is Metal type. This means Triphinx gets STAB on Gear Shear, cranking up the damage it can dish out to utterly insane numbers. Since Triphinx's ranged attack is only ten less than Robindam's, Triphinx effectively has even more damaging Gear Shears. Gearyu also gets STAB Gear Shear, however it's held back by having a lower ranged attack. This leads to Triphinx's Gear Shears possibly rivaling the damage of even Khepri's Headshots if all five hits connect, which isn't even mentioning Ecolocation.
• It just looks cool.
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writingsfromhome · 1 year
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School Photos
A/N: just a quick fluff one-shot to get me back online. happy August and fellow Leo season.
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“Please!” He begs for the umpteenth time. “Just one picture! I just wanna see one!”
“No! Mum look at me, all albums will be burned if you show anything.”
My family chuckles at my persistence but I was serious. Bringing home my uni boyfriend was going good so far. The only thing I had to avoid was him seeing pictures of me as a child.
“She had braces, even had to wear the headgear sometimes.” My brother teases.
“Shut up!” I glare.
“Yeah and she was obsessed with dolphins so anything she wore had them. And if they didn’t—mom didn’t she have these pictures you ironed on for her.”
“Oh!” Mom gasps. “I remember! The patches, the dolphin patches she bought from that one store um-“
“Remember when she wanted a mole so bad like Aunt Jess that she drew one on.”
“No way, I need to see the proof.” Harry grins, taking in my humiliation like a chilled glass of wine.
“She did it the whole summer until I told her it looked like shit on her face.” My brother says. “It was a kindness now that she looks back right yn?”
“Oh aren’t you Mother Teressa.” I mock. I didn’t want Harry to see me like this either—bothered and acting childish with my brothers but I had to pick and choose my battles here.
“Ok lay off her now boys, let us enjoy the pie your mum made.” My dad swoops to my rescue and I give him an appreciative smile.
“Daddy’s girl.” My brother mutters. Mom scolds him but she’s biting back a laugh. Ugh my family was infuriating.
Since we’d arrived late, right before dinner, Harry hadn’t seen my childhood bedroom so once we’re done around the table we head upstairs.
In between dinner and dessert I’d rushed up with an excuse for the loo and made sure to hide any evidence of my face between the ages of 5-16 in my room.
Now, I give Harry a tour of my childhood bedroom.
“I can imagine you sitting here sketching,” Harry brushes his hand along the oak desk dad had built for me in year 4 and has sat against the window since.
So much of my history lived in all these objects. I was happy that Harry could see it all laid out here, know the past parts of me he couldn’t exactly meet.
Not that he needed to see physical copies of all my past parts.
“And this is my shrine to Jesse McCartney.” I open the top drawer meant for pencils and small items but instead a poster of his face was glued down and tiny trinkets laid around including the ticket from the I went to one of his performances.
“So this is your man on the side. Keeping him tucked away at home hm?” Harry tugs the drawer more to reveal all of my teenage crazy.
“I was obsessed. He’s still a very attractive man.”
“That’s weird.”
“What? That he’s attractive?”
“No, he looks nothing like me.”
“Why would he-“ I roll my eyes when I realize what he’s getting at. “Well you should be flattered you don’t look like my childhood celeb crush. That’d be creepy.”
“I think this is a little creepy.” Harry crosses his arms and leans against the table. I take him in where he stands; he felt so much bigger than my childhood bedroom.
“It’s what teenage girls do. Ask your sister I’m sure she had one of these too.”
“So you’re okay showing me this,” Harry tugs my hand. “But not any pictures of you-“
“No. That’s not happening.”
“I promise I’ll still love you.”
“They’re just embarrassing!” I whine. “I always had a phase I was going through. I don’t want you to see any of them.”
“Why?” He cups my face. “It makes you interesting! I showed you the phase where I spiked my hair every day and thought I was in a boy band.”
“Your hair didn’t even spike,” I laugh into his chest, remembering the photo I had taken a copy of with my phone. His hair had looked like he woken up and taken a chainsaw to it.
“See you’re allowed to laugh at me!”
“Nooo,” I wrap my arms around his waist. “No photos. Now subject change: we’re meeting all my friends tomorrow so what do you want to do today?”
“I can crash.” Harry says. He brushes my hair back and gives my head a kiss. “Driving for 4 hours was more tiring than I thought.”
“Okay,” I was fine with cuddling and going to bed even though it was only 9. As long as I was with Harry, everything felt fun. We’d been dating for over a year now and I loved him in a way I never loved boyfriends from the past. I think he was the real deal.
We lie on my small bed and talk until we doze off. The next morning we wake to the smell of breakfast and my parents spoil us with food and laughter.
I give Harry a tour of my hometown before we meet with my friends from school. Everyone and their partners love Harry and I can’t help but beam as he fits seamlessly into the other half of my life.
He catches my eye every now and then and the smile he gives me makes me fall in love with him all over again.
After an evening spent with family at home and another early night, Harry and I head out to go back to uni the following morning.
Goodbyes are long and multiple hugs are involved all around.
As we settle in and head back onto the motorway, Harry points to the sun visor.
“Sun in your eye?”
“No?”
“Why don’t you flip it down?”
“It’s not?” I look him over. Was he okay?
“Just flip it down yeah? In case.”
“Okay?” I slowly flip the visor down and I gasp. “How could you?”
His laughter fills the car as I stare in horror. Tucked into the mirror is a school picture of me, probably Year 6. My braces are full on while I grimace-not even smile-into the camera. I’m wearing a tie-dye dolphin shirt with dolphin clips in my hair. My hair is in plaits except one of them is already fallen out; I’d probably been rough on the playground. It’s all topped off by a silver chunky chain I’d stolen from my brother—thinking it was real silver and would make me look cool.
“It’s my favourite picture of you,” Harry plucks it off and I realize I should have nabbed it while he was laughing. “I don’t think anything can top it really.”
“Harry I beg you to give that back.”
“Nope.” Harry pops the p with joy. He tucks it into his shirt pocket.
“Harry!”
“I love you. Looking at the picture just makes me love you more.” He glances over at me and pats my thigh. “Can you smile like that for me?”
“This is so unfair!” I cross my arms and face the front. “Who betrayed me?!”
“My lips are sealed.” He was having too much fun. I would get my family to crack—dad would probably tell me. Unless it was him.
“I’m gonna go for her for Halloween.” Harry says, trying to get through my wall of silence.
“Fine.” I sit up with an idea and flick through my phone for the picture I’d been keeping. “I’ll go as him.”
I wait for Harry to look over at me and gloat when his face falls.
“You’re not supposed to have a copy of that!”
“Well. We’re even now.”
I plant a sweet kiss on his cheek, feeling better already.
“You’re so lucky I’m driving.”
“You’re lucky or I would have wrestled that photo away from you ages ago.” I say and Harry looks at me skeptically. “I grew up with brothers don’t underestimate me.”
“Fine. Fine. We’re even.” Harry agrees. “And for the record. I love you. And I love her too.”
It’s true that what he says thaws me a little, the little girl in me, but I don’t let it show right now. I just look out the window and mumble a love you too. His hand comes down on my thigh and, still looking out the window, I intertwine our fingers. He could drive me crazy but it was true for me too. As much as I laughed at his photo, I loved him and that little boy too.
“You’re never visiting my parents ever again.” I tell him.
His only response is bringing our hands to his mouth.
I melt in my seat a little.
Whatever.
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thebearer · 1 year
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What would carmy be like when the girls get a bit older? Like going into elementary school, then awkward preteens, maybe teen angst phase? How would he even deeallll lmao
i feel like in elementary school, teddy would be very creative and loud ("teddy is always distracting friends" on every single one of her report cards lmao) but very good at art and other things. wins a few things that get sent to the district and carmen is beyond proud about it.
willow would be more studious and quiet. does really well in school, keeps to herself. i feel like she might get bullied bc she's so shy but dw big sister teddy will beat the shit out of any one who says anything to willow.
i haven't even thought pre-teens or teenagers, but best believe teddy is dramatic. gets braces and acts like she's dying. very much so that hormonal "i hate you! i hate everyone" screaming crying phase that has you and carmen both on edge.
willow would have an awkward phase but it's like kinda adorable in a way??? glasses and bangs (it's a canon event) and maybe tries to be alt or emo or something. you just think it's cute bc she's expressing herself.
teenage teddy i feel like would be a nightmare. like very much so send you and carmen into cardiac arrest. when she gets older, she gets compared to mikey, and in a way she is like him. out going, friendly, daring, and confident- and that scares the SHIT out of carmen. so he really cracks down and they have a lot of tension, which shatters his being.
the most rebellious thing willow does is goes to a party with teddy and gets sloshed, and you both find out. obv teddy tries to fling her under the bus, but you and carmen both know lol. really, she's just a chill kid. likes to hang out with her friends and just vibe. whereas teddy was sneaking into college parties with cousin eva at age fourteen so.
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rewritingcanon · 4 months
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Ask and you shall receive! Ng hcs! (Note: some of these I've heard before and stuck to while some are original, also idk hoe to format this lol)
Albus had a fnaf phase when he was 10 that stuck with him for years.
Teddy is really good at drums and bass guitar
Albus is really good at math but not so good in English class.
James has anxiety and adhd
Teddy is pansexual and victoire is bi
Lilly is the only one of the potter siblings with glasses
Albus paints his nails black and wears eyeliner
James Secretly loves reading both old and new literature books but he doesn't let people know because it isn't expected of him
Victoire is a healer and is a very dedicated worker
Lilly made reserve seeker in her first year, harry cried over it
Albus has bipolar disorder
Teddy makes sure to have tea with his grandmother on the weekends with her freinds
James is really family oriented and gets homesick really easily, he also kisses both of siblings foreheads sometimes to their displeasure
Victoire surfs because she crew up in shell cottage right by the water
Dominique is a trans woman
Scorpius has brown eyes like his mom and multiple bueaty marks on his face
Teddy had a small gap between his teeth but changed his teeth with his metamorphmagus abilities cause he was terrified of getting braces
James is really good at singing but doesn't do it often
To the suprise of the hogwarts staff Lilly is the most like grandpa James not her older brother
Alice is plus size
Craig was the first person to stand up for albus when he was getting bullied. James thanked him for it and now they talk to each other whenever they see eachother
Scorpius has natural eye bags and because he's skinny and kinda pale people think he looks like a corpse which is ironic considering how full of life he is
I don't know how to end this so I'll stop here but I might make a part 2 or do hcs for each individual character idk.
omg i agree with SO much of these but i’m especially passionate about lily being the only potter sibling with glasses and scorpius having tonnes of beauty marks. i feel like i havent seen anyone else who also thinks scorpius is us riddled with beauty marks??? not just on his face but also neck, shoulders, chest etc. i thought it was only me lol.
and i really like the idea of james secretly being good at singing. i feel like he tries to “jokingly” belt songs that are hard to sing to sing terribly and annoy other people and this is how everyone finds out he’s actually really good at it 😭
and the idea of teddy using his abilities to get straight teeth would be so hilarious because ik for a fact he def don’t know shit about dental and will probs continue to fuck his teeth up even more. andromeda takes him to the dentist and it’s literally that dentists worst nightmare. like tf happened here??
also yes the idea that james sirius potter is the next marauders menace and fred weasley ii is the next weasley twin is outdated and boring. get the daughters in here rn.
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dearsnow · 9 months
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WON’T STOP RUNNING (‘TIL WE REACH THE SUN)
- it’s just you, your best friend, the sunset, and a heap of buried feelings in a big grass field. (jacaerys velaryon x gn!reader, modern au, fluff)
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word count: 808
a/n - a fic for a fandom i’m not hyperfixated on anymore 🤯 it’s a bit rushed and not proofread, but i hope someone can get some enjoyment out of it anyways 😭 somewhat based on woodland by the paper kites
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You smile, squinting at the pink and yellow sky. Jacaerys is in front of you, hair set alight by the dying sun and a sparkle in both of his eyes. “Come on, don’t waste the moment!” He shouts, urging you forward.
The grass field around you is large and slightly slanted. Wild grasses cover the expanse, tall and blowing in the breeze. It’s nearing the end of spring, but the flowers and weeds are still in full bloom. As you move forward, legs picking up speed and wind whipping around your face, the stalks and leaves around your feet brush against your ankles.
Jacaerys is leading, running so fast you think he would be flying if he wasn’t firmly stuck to the ground. You, of course, like always, follow.
It’s been four years since you met the boy in your 7th grade chemistry class, but it feels like a lifetime has passed since. You were fourteen and awkward, and in all honesty, so was he. 
He seemed like the coolest person in the world; he had money, friends, these glasses with thick frames that were just beaten-up enough to be “stylish”. His hair was parted to the side, he had a little bit of acne, and his front tooth was twisted. Despite that, despite everything, no person could deny that he had a certain charm- you least of all. When he was seated next to you, your heart began to pound in your chest.
You also had an awkward phase. Multiple, if you really wanted to dig into it, but he stayed by your side the whole time. You just clicked like that, in a way neither he nor you had ever clicked before. 
He’s changed a lot since then. He discarded his glasses for contacts, though he still keeps a pair of thin frames tucked inside his backpack, he has a nicer, longer haircut, and his mom forced him into braces the year after you met him. You will always see him as younger, though, and the redness around his cheeks and forehead will never let him forget it.
“I’m coming, slow down!” You pant, stumbling over your own feet. “You’ve been insufferable since joining track.”
“And yet you suffer me.” He jokes, turning around to walk backwards. “Wrestling just wasn’t enough.” He’s strong now, something you so often forget. Gone are the days of being able to beat him in an arm wrestling competition.
The sun shines over him. He looks ethereal in the light; it makes you want to push him over to make him stop being the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen in your life. So, like a best friend would, you do.
He grabs onto your hand at the last moment, but the damage is done. He falls backwards, landing on a soft plush of grass. In a moment, you feel a tug on your arm and see the world spinning out of view. You fall on top of him, laughing so hard you think your lungs might explode. He’s got a grin on his face as you roll to the side.
“Getting violent, huh?” He laughs. “And here I was, thinking that you loved me too much to try and kill me.”
“Oh, I love you, sure. That’s why I always want to kill you.” You stare up at the sky while he stares at you. “It’s like when you see a cute baby animal and just want to squeeze it.”
He squints his eyes. He’s always been able to see under your words, getting through the cracks in your voice like he was meant to know something deeper. But, like the gentleman he is, he’ll never call you out on something that he wasn’t supposed to know. He’ll savor the moment for now. The comfort of knowing you love him in one way or another, just like how he loves you, is a quiet reassurance. 
“That’s sweet.” He scoffs. He gets up slowly, looking down at you still enveloped in the grass. His hand reaches out, offering an easy trip up for you. Your heart starts beating wildly at the idea of his palms touching yours, as if you’ve never touched him before. Of course, though, he has a trick up his sleeve.
He pulls you up and spins you around, causing you to trip on the side of his foot. Your footsteps stutter and he takes off, sprinting down the field while you’re still trying to regain your balance. 
“No fair! God, fuck you.” Your eyebrows are furrowed as your voice rings out, but the sound of his panting laughter puts a smile on your face. 
“You better catch up, ‘cuz I’m not stopping ‘til I reach the sun!” He calls. 
You roll your eyes as you chase after him, the sun sinking lower and lower on the horizon.
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Taglist (bolded are unable to be tagged): @mmmimilan @its-halleys-comet @savagemickey03 @persephonesportal @lovelyliliya @the-jess-life @spaceandstars @bbosica @hopelesswritergall @watercolorskyy @ghostheartbeat @cecespizza01 @panelhone @writervaul-t
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