#okie doke time to sleep

[urperfectcinnamonroll07]

Dating Chishiya Headcanon's

requested?: no pairing(s): shuntarō chishiya x gn!reader, kuina x plationic!reader (mentioned), chishiya x platonic!kuina (mentioned) genre: headcanons warning(s): smutty themes in some parts (will be labeled), fluff, chishiya being whipped (again), mentions of pregnancy, chishiya smiling (:0), not proof read, mentions of alcohol summary: 𝘯/𝘢 word count: 2.1k a/n: had this in my mind for a while now, depending on how long this takes for me to right (edit:took 2 days, but i will try and do a mingyu fluff) i might not post the mingyu fluff tonight, but i will try. make sure you eat and drink something! stay safe, love yas, mwah

Pre Borderlands

oki dokes, i feel like this beautiful smexy ass man defo wouldn’t show a lot of love

especially if you both met through being doctors in training

he would try to act professional

but at home

jeesh

whole diff story there babes

i feel like he would also be quite smug with you

like the typical loving banter

definitely teases you aswell

study sessions together (if you work in the same field as him)

if not, you both do spend time together by studying (if you study for something)

but again, if not, you admire him while he studies

now

this man is a hard worker, so he will forget things, like eating properly and drinking

so you deliver food for him at work

or you eat together on break

you two also joke about the apple a day

an apple a day keeps the doctor away yk

not him tho, he’s locked in for life honey

also has a lot of stress, so if he opens up, you better listen

it takes him a while to open up to someone yk

but he also will need a lot of help with his stress

at first he doesn’t mind cuddles that much, if anything he finds them slightly worthless

“why would someone just want to… lie there, with their arms around someone?”

“because, shiya, it’s romantic, now cuddle me please”

after a while, he will get used to it, and just cuddles you to sleep every night

even if he comes home late after a shift

and he finds you already asleep, having tried to wait for him

he gets changed and cuddles into you

defo a case of you fell first but he fell harder

i don’t really think he would want kids at first

but as he falls more deeply into love, he would defo change his mind

definitely very passionate and loves you dearly

not into pda or physical touch at all, but will use acts of service and words of affirmation as a love language

you most likely have tried his doctor coat one more than once

he acts all annoyed, but really he had butterflies in his stomach

definitely thinking that he wants to put a ring on your finger

iF yOu LiKe It ThEn YoU sHoUlD pUt A rInG oN iT (see what i did there hehe)

definitely so in love with you

absolutely whipped may i say

NSFW

passionate with fucking

he definitely likes to look down where his cock splits you apart

praise, but also degrading

with his work comes a lot of stress, so he likes to take it out on you

maybe when you go to take him lunch sometimes he’ll fuck you over his desk in his office if it’s a particularly stressful day

bends you over a lot

i feel like missionary or having you bent over is his fav position

probably won’t be into quickies that much

but when he is in a rush to get to work, but you look extremely fuckable, expect him to be late

or have an extremely quick round

i feel like he can be really soft and sensual, but when he wants to be, really rough and degrading

body worship

i also feel like he won’t mind if you want to try something out

or if you want to be dom

is quite open to experimenting

nothing that he knows will hurt you tho

hes a doctor

he cares about you, so he will definitely have set up a safe word system

always makes sure what he is doing is ok

on the other hand, if he is rough

he will barely ask

he knows it’s okay though

he will ask for you permission

but as soon as he gets into it, he won’t ask

he’ll just fuck

he isn’t that vocal in bed

a few groans here and there

but nothing much

if you make more noise, he’ll probably smirk against your neck as he fucks you good

he knows what he’s doing is good when he makes you cum over and over again

aftercare is the best

running you a bath and bathing together

being warm with your naked bodies pressed together

probably leads to another round on some nights tbf

but will massage the shampoo and conditioner into your scalp

he knows how to treat you well after all

Borderlands

if you two went into the borderlands together, you would already know eachother

he would want to protect you as well as he can

he knows when you’re lying about being injured

so he will help treat your injuries

he’ll be even more protective now

especially when niragi is around

he doesn’t show much love for you around anyone

in that way it shows he doesn’t have a weakness

and then people won’t torture you in response to that

so you respect him in that case

he is weak for you

he really doesn’t like seeing you hurt or in pain

so he does try his hardest to help you

he doesn’t want to see his precious little baby suffer, y’know

on the other hand, if you met in the borderlands, he probably didn’t take much of a liking to you at first

probably met through kuina at the beach

being such good friends and all

if you’re more of a party animal, he would look out for you

if you become friends after a while

also the same kind of dynamic

you fell first he fell harder

he would be very protective over you

power couple

you probably have playful banter

still not much into pda

links into what i said about niragi using you as a weakness for him

will be very romantic inside the safety of his bedroom tho

if he sees a creep looking at you, he would probably use his doctor knowledge to scare them away

i feel like the love confession would’ve come from you

kuina was probably off somewhere drinking her weight in alcohol

and you would’ve probably been tipsy

and then it just kinda spilled from you as he was talking about his doctor stuff

“that’s so funny shiya… y’know what else is funny?”

“what sweets?”

“i’m in love with you”

one thing probably led to another and you were in his bed(room) for the rest of the night

if it were more a golden retriever black cat relationship, you would be the one making allies/friends

he probably just glares at the person in the background

i feel like in the jack of hearts game, he would be dead serious

if you joked about death at any point, he would just shake his head while standing there

he would also scold you a little bit and tell you not to joke around about that kinda stuff

you, kuina and him would be such an iconic trio, chishiya with his wits, kuina with her strength and you with your charm (you can chose if you don’t like that)

you would probably be the only one who knows about him before the borderlands

and you comforted him

you didn’t really care about what he had done

NSFW

again, i feel like he would be soft and sensual

although i feel like he would be more into quickies now

definitely missionary as his fav position

he just loves to watch where your bodies connect, yk

still a shit ton of praise from him

and if he saves you during a game, you would insist on giving him a blowjob

he would probably try to turn it down tho

but you insist, so he lets you

when you do have time though, he will fuck you senseless

making sure you can’t walk properly the day after

he also likes watching you ride him, being all cocky as he holds your hips while you bounce up and down onto his large cock

he would be so fucking cocky when he hears your moans for the first time

“is my cock so big baby? you think you can take it? huh”

“ngh, shiya, gonna cum”

he’s definitely got a big dick, never mind his height (i’m literally the same height as him lmao)

hes just our short king yk

but hes good in bed

yk that stereotype that doctors are really good at sex because they know all about the human body?

yeah, i thoroughly believe that that’s chishiya’s sex life in a few simple words

fight me

literally fight me

he defo likes degrading, but in his own personal chishiya way, yk

i also feel like he would like to eat you out icl (when he has time ofc)

and swallowing your cum

keeping on going and overstimulating you

just to get you worked up for his cock

he would also like to see you suck on his cock like his good little girl you are

i will write fics and drabbles about this, i swear on it

i also feel like he would be into jealous sex

like not letting you touch him while he sucks your clit

maybe tying your hands above your head

fucking you until your begging him to stop

but he won’t because you haven’t used your safe word yet

maybe he sees another guy flirting with you

so he drags you to his room and fucks you

and if the guy is in earshot he makes sure that he can hear your oh-so pretty moans

makes you scream while your impaled on his cock to get the guy to back off

at the end of the day he loves you and wants the best for you

even if the best thing for you is screaming and creaming all over his cock

Post-Borderlands

i fully believe in the theory that chishiya remembers the borderlands

so when he wakes up, his first thought will probably be you

even if you don’t remember him at all, he would enjoy falling in love with you all over again

but if you were like a sunshine person, he would love your energy fr

he would js wanna fall in love with you again (not that he ever fell out of it)

but if we believe in the fact that he doesn’t remember the borderlands

he would so fall in love with you all over again

if you two were in the same hospital room

you two would probably talk every day

and he would grow to love you

even if he didn’t at first

after a few months of being out of the borderlands (or out of hospital, you choose)

he would probably take you on a date

cute little restaurant

he has that doctor money ykyk

sugar daddy fr

would defo want to settle down and start a family with you

if you have been dating for a few months by then

he would ask you to move in with him

you would ofc say yes (who wouldn’t, its chishiya mate)

i feel like as a father, he would be such a good dad

girl dad fr

he wouldn’t care the gender tho

he would make sure with their upbringing, he was the best dad

made sure they were healthy and that

also during the pregnancy, he would do all of the stuff you needed to do (if you get pregnant)

like lift heavy things

cook

clean

wash the dishes

wash the clothes

etc etc

would have his hands all over your baby bump

kiss it

probably not talk to it (its still chishiya babes)

all that romantic shit fr

or if you adopt, he would love the kid all the same

even if he isn’t the bio dad

he would still love his kids (i will write smt with dad chishiya at some point, dw)

and you

he would love you more that the moon and stars combined

NSFW

i think you know what imma say here

soft and sensual

definitely has more time

so he would like to eat you out

overstim you

like looking down at you while you suck his cock

all that jazz (or should i say jizz😉)

loves fingering you

i stand by what i said with him being good at sex with his doctor abilities

still stands for jealous sex

i feel like he would try to memorise all the parts of your bodies that you love being touched and makes you feel the best

he just wants his baby to feel the best

i feel like he would really like to keep your hands above your head while he fucks you

he likes to hear your moans (if your children ain’t home, we don’t wanna traumatise em today)

but yeah

he loves you so much and would to anything for you at the end of the day

[luminousbeings-crudematter]

where Simon introduces you to Ghost

PAIRING: Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader 

WARNINGS: established situationship (or is it).  angsty.  18+ only.

LENGTH: 5k

Sooner or later, this way or that, the bubble was going to burst, and now that it was happening—just as you’d predicted—you’d both turned out to be responsible for it.

< Prev Part || Next Part >

_____

Sooner or later, the bubble was going to burst.  You knew that, he probably knew that.  Your collective cognisance (and resigned acceptance) of the fact was in sync—so much so that you’d have found it comforting under different circumstances, how in tune with each you were—and you knew you’d collectively be responsible for it.  

Working together towards your relationship’s last hurrah.

You, with your devotion plain on your face, plain for him to see and develop a hostility to.

Him, with the sky-high walls he’d built around himself, only able—or willing—to show you any hint of what he felt towards you when he was inside you.

Sooner or later, this way or that, the bubble was going to burst, and now that it was happening,  just as you’d predicted, you’d both turned out to be responsible for it.

_____

With the benefit of hindsight, something was clearly bothering Simon that night, and you should have clocked his behaviour as odd immediately.  

At least your involvement starts innocently enough.  

You return home from a shit day at work.  A screw up in the orders the night before had led to an ingredient shortage (you’d had to have a commis run down to the shops to grab flour for fucks’ sake), a fussy table had pissed you off, and—today of all days for this shit to happen to you—you’d left your knives home, and had to use the shitty blunt knives at the kitchen.

You’re upset and your exhaustion seeps into your bones.

Under usual circumstances, this wouldn’t prevent you from seeing Simon per se.  Far from it, sometimes a rough pounding scratched the itch, made it easier for you to step away from your thoughts, gave you something else to focus on.

Today, however, was not usual.  Today, you just wanted to go home and sleep off your shit day, fully intending on consuming an inordinate amount of beer and passing out in front of the telly.

But…Simon had been back on leave for 10 days now, and you hadn’t heard from him at all, bar a text.  Landed.  

You knew the series of events that took place when he returned from deployment—he would take a day or two to reset.  Adjust into civilian life, as far as he could.  Then he’d text you.  You’d see each other three or maybe four times over the period of his leave.  Then he’d return to work again.  Rinse and repeat.

So when you walk home from work in the heavy rain—because why not—you’re taken aback to see him leaning against the front door to your flat block, looking broody and sullen as his eyes dart from person to person walking across the small park in front of your block.   

That, by itself, should have been an indication that something was wrong.  You’ve stepped into the outside world with him before and you know he’s always on guard, always switched on, looking for an unknown threat.  But he never makes it obvious, and every time you look up at him, his attention is focused on you.  

So today’s behaviour is an obvious red flag, a slip-up in the facade as he clearly wears his stress in the furrowed lines of his brow, but your elation at seeing him brings his gorgeous mask-covered face to sharp focus, muting all colours at the edges of your vision.

“Simon?” you ask, rummaging through your pockets for your key.

“Who the fuck else?” comes the gruff reply.

Your eyebrows rise as far as they can go on your forehead.  “Okie doke,” you murmur under your breath, but you know he hears you anyway when he scoffs.  Wow.  So it was going to be like that tonight.

You fumble with the key to your flat, but when you finally manage to let yourselves in, he pauses.  “What happened to your alarm?”

It takes you a second, and you grimace.  “Oh yeah, not sure what’s wrong with it.  Haven’t gotten around to fixing it yet.”  You run a quick hand through your drenched hair.  “I need to shower and dry my hair, do you need anything?”

You don’t even know why you ask.  He’s been over enough times to know his way around your flat.

“Gonna fix your alarm,” he mutters under his breath, and you have to force yourself not to roll your eyes at him.

“Look, Simon, it’s fine.  It’s whatever—I’m going for a shower, just order some food,and we can hang out.  Forget the alarm.  I missed you,” you blurt, and immediately regret the words.  

His massive arms cross over his chest immediately in a defensive posture, and you glance away.  “I saw you a month ago.”   

“I know, look, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…it doesn’t matter–”

“You can’t say that shit to me,” he interrupts, his eyes dark with sudden ire.  “ I don’t want to hear it, yeah?”

“I just meant–”

“I don’t fuckin’  care what you meant.  Don’t. Say.  That shit to me.”

“Simon!  What is the matter with you? Did…did something happen?”  You take a step toward him and your hand reaches out to touch his forearm, but he backs up.  You’ve never known him to lose his cool like this, not at something so trivial, and certainly not at you.

“This was fucking stupid,” he mutters under his breath, and then turns to you with dark eyes.  “Don’t wanna do this right now, I’ll see you later.”  He turns to leave before you have a chance to say anything, and your broken safety alarm catches his attention again.  “Get this shit fixed.”  

The implied or else suddenly makes you see red.  Your heart thuds in your chest and you’re surprised at the sudden fury you feel right now.  

“Wh-What the fuck is happening right now?  Don’t fucking talk to me like I’m a dog!”

Your caustic words make him freeze with his hand on the door knob, and his shoulders tighten.  You can see how intimidating his enemies must find him in his rage.  He stands unnaturally still, and his back is turned to you, but you’re under no misunderstanding—his anger is both potent and consuming.  His stillness is dangerous.  

You take a deep breath and try to calm your racing heart.  “Look, just…can we talk?  Something’s clearly happened, let’s just calm down and talk about it, alright?”

He scoffs at your words and turns to face you slowly, arms still crossed over his chest.  “You wanna talk, pet? Let’s talk.  What do you wanna talk about?”

“Simon–”

“I’ll start.  Why the fuck is your flat falling apart, eh?  You need a functioning alarm.”

“Jesus Christ, what is the deal with you and that alarm?  This is ridiculous!” 

“You’re the one s’fucking ridiculous,” he breathes.  “You could get broken into in the middle of the night, and you wouldn’t even know it.”

You drag a hand over tired eyes.  “Oh my god, why do you give a shit?  This has nothing to do with you.”  

Simon exhales.  “It could happen while I'm here.  Then what?” 

“You can take care of yourself, Simon.  Besides,” you can’t hold back a small, bitter laugh “you’re not around enough for there to be a real risk to your safety, alright?”

“Is that what this is about?  How you missed me?”  His voice is mocking, and it’s enough petrol to your fire that your fury rises exponentially. “ I should be around you more?  Quit the army to be your lap dog, s’that it?”

“No.  We are not having this conversation, you’re taking this too far.”

What you don’t tell him is that you can’t have this conversation with him—not now, not ever.  You’re in love with him, you’re so helplessly in love with him, and it will break more than just your heart if he throws it back in your face right now.

“Not fuckin’ far enough,” he mutters.  “Christ, what the fuck am I doin’ here,” he says, running a hand through his hair.  

“And what the fuck is that supposed to mean?  Aren’t you here to fuck me, then leave, then come right back when you like only to pick back up where you left off, like the convenience that I am to you?”

“You think this s’fuckin convenient for me, pet?  Think anything about being with you is convenient?”

“Being with me?” you snort, your anger making you lash out.  “Please let’s not pretend that this is anything more than somewhere warm and wet for you to stick your dick  in every time that you’re in London, Simon.  I’m not with you, and you’re certainly not with me.” 

You turn away from him quickly, walking into your kitchen without giving him the opportunity to respond.  What you need right now is some space.  You don’t hear him immediately follow you, but you’re far from convinced that this is over.

You grab a glass from the cabinet above you, fill it with water.   Your fingers tremble as you bring it up to your lips, though you convince yourself that it’s because you’re still wet and cold from the rain. 

It’s your nerves that make you grip the edge of the kitchen counter hard, until your knuckles turn white. Fuck, where is this coming from?  What could have happened to him?  

You feel more than hear his presence lurking at the entrance to your kitchen.  You turn to him with a sigh, trying to stay calm and reason with him.  And though his words have been hurtful to this point,  something about the way he just stands there makes you look up at him.  His eyes are hard, an edge to them you haven’t seen before, but they’re also shiny.  Honest.  Wounded.

You sigh again.  “Can we just drop this?  Look I’m sorry I said anything, let’s just–”

“Do whatever the fuck you want to do, I’m out.”  He states, but makes no move to leave.  It’s almost like he’s baiting you to respond, waiting for…something from you.  You see his hands clench and unclench at his sides, see the slight tremble in his fingers.  

So this is how it ends.  This is the culmination of almost a year’s worth of devotion to this man, to making him the centre of your universe.  The fight leaves you almost as quickly as it arrived. 

“If you’re going to leave, then just fucking leave. Do  what you think is right.”

“What I think,” he yells suddenly, “is that you’re fuckin’ messing with my mind.”  His voice breaks and his hands go up to his hair, tugging at the short strands in frustration.  “You—you’re fuckin’ everywhere.  Y-you…SHIT.”  He slams his hand against the kitchen door, the frame rattling with the force.    

Your vision blurs with hot tears, from the hurt you feel and from the pity that takes centre-stage in your chest when you look at him.  He’s clearly wrecked with something you can’t put your finger on.  Something’s happened, something’s gone wrong at some point between the last time you saw him and now, and even Simon—with the world’s indifference he pretends to possess—can’t move forward, can’t look past it. 

Most of all, you resent that he’s making you tense, a natural reaction to a physically larger man looming over you and speaking to you in a raised voice.   

The tears flow freely now.  “What–what’s wrong Simon, please, jus–”

“Fuck,” he breathes, his eyes scrunched closed,  one hand holding his chest.  “I can’t—can’t do this.  Thought I could…forgot…can’t forget.”

“Simon…please.  You’re scaring me.”  You whisper, and it’s like you can’t help yourself.  Your feet take him to you as if it's the most natural thing in the world, and your face crumbles when he makes eye contact with you, and you see his shimmering eyes staring back at you. 

He slowly lowers to his knees and you go down with him.  He’s starting to pant like he’s been running hard, his breaths staccato and loud, and his chest starts to heave violently.  “Can’t–can’t breathe, shit, shit,” he whimpers, and you don’t think there’s much more of your heart left to break.

“Hey, hey, look at me.  It’s alright, I’m here, look at me.  There’s enough air in the room, Simon, listen to my voice.  There’s enough.  Just breathe for me.”  You try to soothe him as much as possible, trying to pitch down your voice, make it soft and lilting.  He grabs your hand in  a death grip, and you gently use your intertwined fingers to guide his face to the crook of your neck.  He comes easily, takes a deep breath, and for some time, this is all he does.  Just breathes in your scent where it’s the strongest, and you both sit there on the floor of your kitchen, shivering.  

Your tears slowly return, and he clutches at you tighter but says nothing.

_____

You don’t know how long you sit there with him.   

You hold him until the muscles in your arm ache and burn, and even then, you don’t let go.  You’ve enough awareness to realise that this wasn’t about you at all—you were just there when the dam burst—but you’d both said some horrible things to each other.  Things you couldn’t take back.

He shudders in your arms, once, twice, kisses your neck, then slowly lifts his head to look up at you.  He doesn’t cry—you’re not sure he even can—but his gorgeous green eyes soften and melt as they look deep into yours.  He’s never been vulnerable with you, this is more emotion than you’ve ever seen him show, and so you don’t say anything.  He keeps looking at you, searching for…something, but you’re not sure what.  

He seems to find whatever he was looking for after a moment, and looks away from you.  “M’sorry,” he says, his voice hoarse from disuse. 

You nod and run your fingers gently through his hair.  “Does…does this happen a lot?”    

“Not for a while. Thought–thought they stopped. Sorry,” he says again, and sighs. 

You move your arms so they’re wrapped around him tighter, and lay your head on his shoulder.  “I know we don’t do this, but…do you want to go to bed, Simon?”

“Shit, I–I can’t.  Baby, I can’t.  Not tonight.”

You swallow at the rejection and your eyes dart away from him quickly.  You know this isn’t about you but you can’t help but feel like all he does is reject you, over and over.

But his hold on your chin is gentle but firm, and he brings your eyes back to his.  “I’ve been—there’s dreams.  Nightmares.  S’bad.”

“Then stay awake with me.  Let’s just stay awake together…in bed?”

You don’t know where you stand with him right now.  You don’t know where you’ll go from here.  But when he whispers a quiet okay, and gathers you to him, you think you understand where you stand, right in that moment, and it’s enough for you. 

You can only hope that it’s enough for him too.

_____

You undress quietly, facing away from him.  He turns the lights off in the room, you hear his mask drop on your bed stand, and then…bliss.  He pulls you to him and his arms wrap around you, legs tangling with yours, your face burrowing in his chest.  You almost can’t believe it—you went from just sex to almost nothing to…this.  

It makes all the soft thoughts you hold for him in your heart bubble up to your throat, and you have to hold back from blurting them out.

He stays silent for a long time, his breathing deep and even, and you wonder if he’s fallen asleep after all.  So when his soft voice pierces the night, you almost jump.  “I’m sorry, sweetheart.  Tha’ was—I’m sorry.”

You sigh.  He’s hurt your feelings, been completely inconsiderate, been downright hateful, and all you feel is fear that he’s going to take it all away.  You hate that the worst possible scenario for you is that he could take himself away from you.

 “I’m sorry, too.  I don’t—I know you don’t think of me as a convenience.  I shouldn’t have said that.”

But his body is taut now, tense.  He reads you well. 

“But.  You need to define what you want here, Simon.  I respect you enough to stick to our original agreement.  But if you want to…pause this, then do it.  It’s fine.  But I won’t be strung along—”

“S’not fine to me.”  It’s all he says.  You’re physically close enough to him to  feel his heartbeat between your bodies, strong and starting to take off in his chest.  Your heart, in turn, thuds painfully in your chest, hands and feet clammy, feeling the adrenaline in his body move into yours.  

“What happened, Simon?”  Your words are soft, but firm.

“No,” he whispers, his grip unyielding on you. “Not tonight, please, pet.  Know I fucked up, Jesus.  Fuckin’ knew I went too far today…just not tonight. Please.”

You pause a moment.  Hear his words.  “Okay,” you agree, and lean your face up to kiss him.  He responds eagerly, clutching you tight.  Far too eagerly,  considering the events of the evening, and you feel him hot and heavy against your thigh.  You’re not surprised.

Pleasure and pain all mixed up in his mind. All paths, you’d once hoped,  leading him to you.  Seems like they finally did.

You continue to kiss him, languid and slow, and at one point you feel his brows tightly furrowed and pressed against yours.  An emotion you can’t name settles deep in your chest, and it makes your heart swell and throb.   

Simon is an enigma to you, a puzzle you can’t solve, a man you thought felt only the bare minimum, just enough to get through his life.  But he proves you wrong, shows you just how little you know the man you’re in love with.  Simon feels.  He feels so much, feels so intensely that he separates his entire person from it—becomes Ghost—and tries to keep your Simon safe.

But you know that right now, in this moment, it’s not Ghost who pulls you over him, hands moving over your back gently, like he’s trying to memorise the feel of your skin.  It’s not Ghost in your bed right now, kissing you like the world is ending around you.  And it’s not Ghost who lets you go for a second only to wipe your tears and press gentle kisses along your jaw and the side of your neck.

“Can I?” he whispers.  “Pl-please let me, fuck, let me—”

“Yes, God, please.”

He wastes no time after that.  You think he’s going to push inside you—you brace for that sweet, first stretch—but you’re quickly flipped around so you’re on your back.  He crawls down your body, pulls your panties off and you’re not prepared,not even close to prepared,for the barrage of sensation his body invites in yours. Warm breath for a sliver of a second, then a hot tongue and a thick finger find you molten and willing for him, and you think that this, right here, like this with you, this is where he belongs.  

He may belong to whatever demons reside in his mind, whatever he does out there when he’s away from you for months on end, but he belongs to you while he’s here like this too. 

You’ll take whatever you’re given and you’ll endure.

He pulls you away from your thoughts just as they descend into forbidden territory, but you don’t care.  He can keep himself locked away from you as much he wants, as much as he feels he needs to, but he can’t stop what’s already taken root in your chest.  That belongs only to you.

“S’this okay, pet?  You alright?” He whispers, then dips his head down to nip at where the evidence of how alright you are paints the insides of your thigh.  “You with me?”

“I’m with you, Simon,” you whisper back, the irony and stark contrast of the words against the ones you’d flung at him earlier not lost on you.

Seems he’s thinking the same thing.

“Won’t happen again, dove.”  The words are promised against your clit, and his fingers don’t stop moving inside you when he speaks.  “Promise, I–fuck–I won’t bring it home again.”

The whispered words don’t give you much solace—you know he can’t help but carry it with him wherever he goes, even if he thinks differently—but his use of the word home lights a warmth in your chest like you haven’t felt before.

Home, yes, this is home, with him, worshipping between your legs and you, hovering on that cliff edge, waiting for that feeling only his touch brings.  Waiting for him to give you something you can’t quantify, waiting for him to release the part of you that he holds so you can run free with it, now it’s been imbued with his essence.

He doesn’t keep you waiting long, gives you exactly what you need to be able to drop off that precipice without anything to catch you—and when your pleasure finally runs in your veins, you know it’s because only he can touch you the way you need to be touched at that moment.   

Your hips arch against his mouth, and you haven’t even fully come down from your high yet before he’s moving away from you, freeing himself from his jeans and pushing inside you to the hilt.  The feeling of sudden fullness is almost overwhelming, and your breath sputters and chokes in your chest, as though he’s lodged himself in your throat instead of your cunt.  You gasp and clutch at him, but he’s not done taking your breath away—he lifts both your legs and effortlessly puts them on one of his shoulders.  

You know you’re the singular object of his focus when you close your eyes and turn your face away so the meagre lights from your window don’t accidentally show you his face, but his hand moves to your jaw and brings it back to him.  “Open your eyes, sweetheart.”  

“Simon—”

“Open them,” he insists.  “I want to see your gorgeous eyes, sweet girl.  L-let me see them.”

You open your eyes.  

You can’t see him clearly—of course not, it’s close to pitch black in the room—only the outlines of his features, but you understand what he means.  You want to see his gorgeous eyes when he pounds into you with no abandon, showing you he cares for you in the only way he thinks he’s allowed to.  It’s dark but you can see pieces of him.  A mosaic.  You can draw your own conclusions from the pieces of the puzzle you’ve been handed.

Your eyes trace the crooked length of his nose—how many times has it been broken?  You bring your hand up to trace a single finger over his tight jaw and move up to gently run your hand over his hair—how long can it grow?  Does he cut it himself?  You can’t imagine him allowing someone else to do it, touch him like that, he wouldn’t allow that level of intimacy.   

“I want to get on top,” you breathe.  He starts to shake his head, but you cup his face in your palm.  It makes him pause, then nod.  With a grace you think someone of his size and build shouldn’t possess, he helps you up without slipping out of you, and sits up while you straddle him.

You start to ride him,  but hug him close to your chest—the coalescence of a thousand galaxies in a universe-shattering type of violence could not pull you away from this moment with him—and he groans against your skin.  His mouth moves to your throat, and you swear, you swear, he whispers into the crook of your neck before he kisses it, but you’re so far gone that you don’t hear and you can’t think to ask him.  You’re safe like this, with his arms wrapped around you and with the knowledge that he cares—just doesn’t know how to show it.

Home in the truest sense of the word.

His hands move to your back, supporting you, even as you rise and fall steadily on his cock.  For as desperate as he was railing into you before, he seems perfectly content for you to take your time now, reach the pinnacle of your bodies’ connection, but not sprint towards it and end it too soon.  One of his arms moves to cradle the back of your head and the small shift causes your clit to grind against the coarse hair on the base of his cock.  Your throaty moan doesn’t go unnoticed—nothing ever slips past him unnoticed—and he jerks his hips up, over and over so the sensation never stops, and you feel closer than ever to your peak.

You’re panting now too, the strain on your muscles making you slick with sweat, and you can tell he’s close too.  His jaw is clenched and his eyes stare intensely into yours, but you feel the tightening of the muscles in his thighs and his hips never cease their insistent pistoning motion into yours.  

You’re so close, so close to coming and his hand disappears just briefly between the two of you where you’re joined, rubs at your clit, gathering the slick and bringing it up to your mouth.  You exhale at the filthy action—even after all this time he finds new ways to surprise you—but you grab his fingers before they reach you and push them into his mouth instead.  You catch the widening of his bright eyes and his sharp hiss, but he keeps them on you as he sucks on his fingers.  You grab his face and kiss him then, and the movement of his tongue inside your mouth mimics that of his cock—it’s deep and thorough, leaving no stone unturned in absolutely undoing you. 

You pull back for a moment, and you’re both suspended as though in space—nothing between you but darkness, but you’re wrapped in it too, so are you really apart?  

You suppose you are and you aren’t.

The only two people in the universe.  

He thrusts up into you a few more times, his rhythm broken and stuttering, but his eyes never leave you.  You come just like that, your eyes screwed shut tight and your body burning up with molten heat.  It licks down your spine, and you feel tingles running down the length of your body, from your fingertips all the way down to your toes.  

Your world goes bright then dark, a supernova behind your eyes from the orgasm he gives you, but a black hole where you feel his arms wrapped around you—opposite but sister forces, blinding you when you try to look at him but pulling you into him anyway.

The only two people in a universe that is kind enough to let you pass through it together, that lets you exist at the same time as this man, gives you the privilege to love a man who is so clearly deserving of it, unashamedly craves for it, has been denied it at every turn in his life.

While you come down, you dread the conversation you still need to have with him.  His behaviour is not on but you can’t help but focus on the fixation with your alarm.  That singular thing could not have set him off.  Unless—

Well.  You can’t even start to guess.  The life he leads when he’s away is so far removed from yours, you can’t even begin to imagine what he’s seen, the things he’s done in his line of work.  Fuck, you don’t even know what his line of work is.

“Can hear your mind workin, pet,” he murmurs to you.  “You gonna tell me?”  He moves his face so he can kiss your neck, then decides to stay there.

“Just—just thinking about you.”

“Not thinkin’ about much then?”

“Plenty,” you insist with a small smile.  “Actually, I was thinking about how you must hate how much I reek.  Just came home from an extra-sweaty shift and you fucked me before I even showered.  Disgusting.”

“Quite the opposite, pet.  Ain’t tasted anything sweeter,” he murmurs.  He even makes a point of it by licking his favourite spot on your neck. 

“Dirty flatterer,” you whisper.  His face lifts up to you, and he slowly lifts your hand up and brings it to his face.  You can feel the beginnings of a smile on his lips, and it tells you what you need to know for now.  “Shower, then take out?”

“Yeah, pet.”

“Then maybe we can look online, find a replacement for my alarm?”

You hear him swallow, then nod and lean in to kiss you.  He kisses you for what feels like a lifetime, pouring a profound sadness and longing into it.  You’re scared of it, as much as you hurt for him.  You still don’t understand it, you don’t get why this situation made him so upset to begin with, but you’re willing to work with him on it.  You’re willing to—

“Need you safe, pet.  Can’t—won’t compromise on that.  Need you to be safe while I’m away, yeah?”

“Okay, Simon.”

“Mean it.  Was a proper dick to you today, it won’t happen again.  We’ll…talk about it,” he mumbles.  “But you need to stay safe, I won’t—you can’t get hurt.”

“I won’t, Simon.  I won’t get hurt.  This is a safe neighb—”

“No.  Things can happen, dove.  Trust me.”  He exhales heavily.  “Fuck, trust me, I know.  Just need to know you’re safe when I ain’t here.”

You acquiesce slowly, nodding and laying your head on his shoulder, your heart full with his words.  

How is it that every time you think you figure out one part of the puzzle, it expands, as though no amount of individual pieces of him could ever hold him, could ever hope to draw a full picture.  It’s like he exists outside of the plane you reside in, too big, too complex to be deciphered by using small pieces of him.   

No, he only unravels when he hands you the string and tells you to pull.   He’s only ever yours when he chooses to come to you himself.  

Simon, Ghost, you don’t care. 

You love the version of him that does. 

[ripgray-moved]

okie doke, it's night-night time for me, i'm absolutely exhausted after the awful night of 'sleep' i got due to the heat. i'll catch y'all on the flip-side!

[authorautumnbanks]

How To Tame A Sorcerer (38)

Series Master list

Kagome lies there, one leg thrown over Satoru, her arms wrapped around him tightly. There's a bit of drool on his chest and she grimaces in horror. Thank goodness he's still fast asleep, or she'd never hear the end of it. She peeks up at him under her lashes. He once told her that his body doesn't actually need rest because of some healing technique, reversal something. She was half-listening when he dove into his lecture.

"Coffee," she mumbled, sitting upright. She runs her fingers through the wild mane of hair and fiddles with the ends. She should find a salon sometime for a trim, Satoru offered, but respectfully she had to decline. The man gave Yuji-kun a bald spot in the back. Yawning, she leaves the comfort of his embrace and the lure of more sleep.

"Come back," Satoru rasps out, his voice heavy with sleep. He reaches out for her, his lips downturn.

"We're looking at a house today," she replies, slipping on her robe. "We need food before we go. Any requests?"

"Yeah, one." He opens his eyes, turning on his side. "You."

Temptation licks at her veins, but someone has to be the adult if they are going to get anything done today. "How do you get anything done?"

"If you'd come back to bed, I'll show you."

"C'mon, you can help me in the kitchen." She tugs his arm. He could easily pull her onto the bed, so she beams when he allows her to pull him along to the kitchen. "Sit," she instructs. "Yuji-kun texted me last night. Nobara and Megumi want to visit the fox hotel." She starts the coffee machine and pulls out ingredients from the fridge.

"So that's how it's going to be." Satoru props his chin up with his palm. He's dressed down in gray sweatpants and nothing else.

Kagome places a mug of fresh coffee in front of him. "How's what going to be?" She pours herself a cup, lets out a sigh as the sweet caffeine hits her tastebuds.

"The kids don't get the answer they want from me, so they go through you." Satoru drinks from his cup, eyes lower as his lips break out in a content smile.

"That's normal. You raised Megumi, so I'm sure a part of him sees you as a dad figure." She chops the onions and bell peppers and then deposits the knife into the sink.

"You want kids, Gome-chan?"

Kagome cracks an egg, letting the sound of the egg frying wash over them. "I wouldn't mind having one."

"Okie doke," he says.

"Nothing else to add?" She sets the omelet down in front of him and hands him his utensils. She goes back to making her own meal, humming a Shippo-chan's favorite lullaby.

"I don't mind if they're with you." He winks at her as he takes a bite. "You could be a stay-at-home mom."

"You just don't want me fighting." She snorts, taking a seat next to him. "Nice try though." It's not the first time he's tried the whole stay-at-home thing. If you ask her, he attracts just as much danger as she does.

"Well, that's normal," he throws back at her, "what man wants his wife in danger." Kagome squints her eyes, places her palm on his forehead. He doesn't feel feverish. "What'cha doin?"

"Checking for a fever. You know we aren't married."

"Let's elope today, then take an extended honeymoon."

"Before meeting your parents?" Kagome chastises. Not that she is against marrying him - she agreed to stay in this world for him, but there are some steps that they just shouldn't skip.

"Never knew em. The Gojo elders and servants raised me. More like they did whatever I said, but semantics," he says so matter-of-factly as though they were discussing the weather.

Kagome drops her chopsticks, reaches across, and pulls his head down until he's nestled between her breasts. She runs her hand through his hair. It's no wonder he's so touchy-feely. Being raised in such an inhospitable environment and his infinity keeping people at bay.

"So, is that a yes?" He asks in a hushed tone.

"We'll see." She presses her lips to his temple, breathing in the lingering scent of his body wash from last night.

"I love it when you do that."

"Kiss you?"

"Yeah, but I was talking about when you massage my face. Helps with the overstimulation." He pulls back. "We should get dressed. Ijichi has the day off too, so we can either call a taxi or take the train. I could teleport us, but..."

"That's fine, I actually like taking the trains." She stands, gathering their dishes. "I'm going to clean these before we go." She waits until his footsteps get further away before allowing her mind to ruminate on their conversation.

A normal couple wouldn't have moved in together on day one or had clans to worry about. If his clan is anything like that Naoya person, then she could do without interacting with them. She's been so good lately. She has kept her cool, not let her temper get the best of her in like... well, long enough. Baby steps, she reminds herself. Meeting a bunch of men stuck in the past would surely tempt her to hand out a couple of slaps.

She takes the towel from her shoulder and dries off the dishes. If Satoru wants her to marry him, then he better get down on one knee and ask properly.

There is no way that this house is reasonably priced. Kagome eyes the large stainless-steel refrigerator, already daydreaming about how she won't have to make so many grocery runs. But more than that, it's the family vibe permeating in the air that has her feeling some kind of way. Especially after their morning chat about children, but so it's that she misses her family. Even though they left on terms that she would never see them again, the longing crept up and smacked her in the face. They think she's with InuYasha, and all she wants to do is show them the man she never knew she needed. Mom would adore Satoru and his antics, Souta would join in and help with the pranks, and Gramps would have a field day trying to hit Satoru with his ofudas. Kagome snorts at the image.

"Wanna share with the class?" Satoru steps beside her, his hand lingers on her lower back. The heat from his touch seeps through her cotton dress. He enjoys touching her, which she is grateful for because she enjoys touching him, too.

"It is really beautiful," she says, running a finger along the wooden island. They could have breakfast in here and dinner with the kids in the dining room. Or have dinner together upstairs on the balcony under the moonlight. It's too bad that they can't see many stars in the city.

"I'm hearing a but." Satoru removes his hand and leans against the island. His glasses fall down slightly, allowing her a glimpse of his blue eyes. Though simply stating that they are blue almost feels like an insult, with all the different shades swirling around.

"You don't think this is a bit much?" she questions. Kagome actually loves the home, but it has to be expensive - the backyard alone is worth a small car.

"For us? Nah. But if you don't like it, we can look at some other houses."

But he likes it. Kagome huffs and walks out of the kitchen. She gives a small smile to the relator, thankful that Satoru told the man that they didn't need a tour guide. Not that she dislikes the house, she likes the westernized main floor and how the bedrooms are more aligned with Japanese culture. She heads outside, basks under the sunrays. It's supposed to rain later, so she soaks in the warmth as much as she can.

"Was it InuYasha," he pauses, "that hurt you?"

Huh? Kagome whips her head around. Even with his dark shades covering his eyes, she can tell how serious he is by the way his mouth is pressed into a thin line and the way he hides his hands in his pockets. She wets her lips. "I just don't want you to stretch yourself trying to impress me. We can look at more affordable homes or a bigger apartment." She crosses her arms, suddenly feeling as though she is under a microscope. She should have worn a jacket or something with long sleeves than a simple white summer dress.

Satoru chuckles as he rocks back on the balls of his feet. His oversized shirt slips a little, showing off his collarbone and the small hickey she made. He - unlike- her wore something more covered up. Though now that she thinks about it, even when he's dressed casually, he's always wearing something oversized and less form-fitting.

Nevertheless, she is being serious here. No need to go into debt or create more stress for himself.

"What's so funny?"

"You." He gestures to the house. "If money was not an issue, would you buy this house?"

"Yes, but -"

"Gome-chan, I don't know who has made you feel like you were less than, but if I need to shower you in compliments, every single day until you believe you are more than enough, I will." He steps into her space and runs his knuckle down her cheek. "We can compromise and find a home that we both love, but I am not compromising on providing for you."

How he can be sweet and assertive at the same time is beyond her. Koga-kun always hyped her up, but it was always my woman this, my woman that, and not once did he ever take the time out to listen to what she was saying or dig deeper into what she wasn't saying. Hojo-kun may have never boasted about her being his and the gifts he got her while thoughtful. He also never took the time out to listen to her.

InuYasha was well... Kagome leans into Satoru's touch. "You sure you've never had a girlfriend," she jokes.

"Never wanted one."

"Seriously?"

"Guess it took someone from out of this world," he teases. "So...?"

"Yes, I want the house." There she admitted it out loud, not that it matters because, despite his words of encouragement, she's sure that this house is way out of budget.

"Really? We can buy it with the furniture too unless you want to furnish it yourself." Satoru talks a mile a minute, his hands animating his words. "Let's go let the realtor know. I'm thinking sushi for lunch and then heading over to Yakeru's shop."

"Wait... You're actually putting an offer in?"

"... Yeah? You said you wanted the house." He bends down until his nose touches hers. "You worry too much. This won't even make a dent in our account."

"Ours? I don't have an account."

"I added you to mine. Seemed like more work to transfer money all the time." He pecks her lips. "It's okay to be selfish and go for what you want, I do."

Oh, he's smooth.

"Okay." If he says that it really isn't that big of a deal, then she can get past her mental block. "I don't really feel like shopping for new furniture." She trails behind him to give the realtor the news.

"We'll take it all. We'll pay cash today if we can move quickly," Satoru chirps.

She and the realtor look as though they were going to pass out. She takes back all those guilty thoughts of using his money; it wasn't an inconvenience to him at all.

"I will make the call," the man stammers out, tripping over his own feet in his haste.

"Cash, huh?"

"Just tryin to chill with you in that hammock." He pulls out his phone and scowls.

"Are the kids okay?" She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, needing to ease the rising tension. Surely, no one would attack the school that quickly. Though with the students still being a little injured... No, she will not go down that train of thought.

"Yeah, they're fine. We don't have to go until you're ready. Guess word got back, so they have summoned us to the estate."

"Am I going to have to slap some people today?"

"Don't sweet talk me like that, makes me want to forget all about grabbing lunch."

The realtor walks back, smoothing the wrinkles away on his plain black suit. "The owner accepts your offer." He goes to shake Satoru's hand and trips over himself, landing with a loud thud. A groan soon follows, and Kagome hopes that the man did not break his nose from the fall.

"So that's how today is going to go," Satoru remarks, laughing when Kagome slaps his arm. He can be such a menace. Kagome rolls her eyes and helps the man up. "C'mon on Gome-chan." Satoru tugs her hand, leading them out of the house. "Just let us know when to show up," he calls out, not looking back.

"That was rude," she scolds.

"Please, we just made his day. You know what would make my day?"

"Visiting a shrine."

"Yes - no? What?"

"What?" She grins up at him, swinging their intertwined hands.

"Okay, but," he says, holding up a finger to punctuate his next words, "if there's a curse or demon, some new thing. I'm blaming you." Kagome huffs.

"Please, what are the odds of that."

Turns out, the odds of them finding a lingering spirit that was holding onto the living world were so high that they could both see the faint aura before they took one step.

"Don't say it." She holds up a hand, taking the stairs two steps at a time. These were nothing compared to the ones back at the family shrine.

"Special grade at that. The offer to be a stay-at-home wife doesn't expire."

"Shush. I need to concentrate." She places a finger to her lips. The clouds overhead darken, and seriously, who checks the weather and still leaves home without an umbrella?

"Cute that you think I'm letting you fight without your bow."

"Says the man that pushed me in front of a curse without one."

"You gotta stop living in the past, Gome-chan."

"Past me should have made some subjugation beads," she mutters as they reach the last step. "What?"

"You didn't tell me you were into bondage."

"I'm not...," she trails off, squinting at the crowd of people. There should be more noise, chatter, heck, even a whisper of conversations, and yet there's nothing but the rustling of the wind blowing the leaves and Satoru's one-sided conversation. A droplet of rain hits her on the forehead. She walks behind him, noting that his strides are much longer than before.

"Well, shit." He clucks his tongue. She suspects that his six eyes grasped the situation that they were in. "The barrier went up the moment we stepped foot on the grounds." He flexes his hands.

"You can't kill them." A bubble of nausea rises in her throat. More people surround them, their eyes hazed over in a red hue. The sky is still dark and the rain should be falling on them, but it doesn't land a hit. "They're possessed." And the only way to help them is to find the source. Without her bow, she's at the mercy of allowing them to get close in order to purify them. A piss poor strategy for such a large amount of people.

"Just stay close."

She moves closer and pauses when one man convulses. Saliva drips down his face as his limbs twist, and the sound of a crunch hits her in the eardrums. Long hairy legs sprout out from his mouth. She doesn't mean to, but she takes a step back from the sight of a spider forcing its way out of the man's body. Kagome wets her dry lips. The burning sensation of anxiety lights like an inferno. She should have known. Naraku wouldn't have shown himself if he hadn't already started making moves. At least she this seems like something that Naraku would do.

The spider blinks its eight eyes at them, beady and full of interest. The man's body doesn't so much as slink to the floor as it flops down, as though all his internal organs have been sucked dry. "We've been waiting for you," it coos, rubbing its many legs together as though it has found its next meal. It opens its mouth, acid drips down, and lands on the heads of some of the possessed. They don't scream as their bodies melt, not even leaving a trace of bone.

Satoru doesn't speak for once, simply lifts one finger and shoots out an attack. The red blast lights up the dark atmosphere. It filled her vision with red, so she shuts her eyes if only to block out the overly bright light. Hands reach out for her, covering her screams, and pulling her into the crowd. The last thing she sees is Satoru's panicked face as more bodies pile in front of them, and her vision goes dark.

[ellcrys]

okie dokes time to sleep <5 hours lol

[negasonicimagines]

Afraid / Part 13: An Important Piece

You and Wade look at some scrapbooks.

“Uh, it might be best if you wake her. She can’t sense me at all, not like she can with other people, even Cheryl. I don’t wanna scare her,” Wade mumbles. He’s already woken you up, but you don’t move.

“Is that what that was about earlier? Are you jealous?” Vanessa wonders.

“What what was about?”

“You know,” she chides him. “You were a total buzzkill with those tricks she was doing for me and Cal.” 

“I… I can’t see it. I’ll never be able to see it. I feel like I can’t be a part of anything that makes her happy.”

“But you’re you. You make her happy.”

“I annoy the shit out of her is what I do. I just… I already love her so much it fucking hurts, but I don’t wanna come on too strong, so I just do stupid things to try and help her out or get her attention.”

“Sounds like someone doesn’t even know the basics of chess,” you remark.

“Is she talking in her sleep?” Wade whispers. 

“No, but the king’s the most important chess piece on the board – I thought that was common knowledge,” you grumble. 

“Where’s Eloise on the board, then?”

“Depends on who I’m playing against. Sometimes she’s the king piece, too. Sometimes just a rook,” you elaborate.

“Didn’t realize you had so many opponents,” he replies. 

“These days, I’m mostly playing against myself,” you admit. “You ever feel like that?”

“All the time,” he agrees. “Let’s get you to bed.”

You nod, unbuckling your seatbelt.

“I’ll wait in the car,” Vanessa decides. “You sure it’s okay for me to crash in your room tonight?”

“Who cares?” 

You get out of the car as he gives Vanessa a kiss on the cheek as a temporary farewell. He gets out, too. 

“Well?” you ask. 

“What?”

“What happened to picking me up as much as possible?” you ask. 

“You don’t like it.”

“I don’t hate it, either… And now that I know you love me so much it hurts,” you tease him. “I feel a little more inclined to indulge you.”

“Is that how you’re playing it? Okie doke, princess.” He picks you up like you weigh nothing, cradling you in his arms. You hold onto his neck, worried that you might slip against the leather of his suit. 

“That’s new,” you say. “Run out of snake jokes?”

“Well, I figure if I’m the king, that makes you the princess.”

“That’s not a chess piece.”

“Well, one of those castle tower thingies could just be called the princess. She could live in there.”

“You mean the rooks?”

“Hey, then it fits, ‘cause you wanna live inside-”

“Gross!” you cut him off, laughing into his shoulder. You keep your head buried there, watching behind him as he carries you inside. Thank goodness it’s late, you’re not going to have to hide this from as many people. 

As you breathe, you finally notice how he smells. Like leather, of course. Inexpensive cologne, but not outright cheap – maybe something from the mall. You’ve always liked how those kiosks smelled. Then it hits you: fresh death. It’s not an unfamiliar scent, but… 

“You’re dead,” you realize. “That’s why I can’t sense you, why other psychics have a hard time… The cancer never went away, so your dying cells just replace themselves with more dying cells.”

“I hadn’t given it much thought, honestly. That makes sense.”

“You’re dead,” you repeat, your voice trembling. No. No. He’s alive, he’s here, he’s okay… But he’s not. He must be in so much pain. “You’re dead because of-”

“Don’t even go there. You’re the reason it’s worth it,” he argues. You sob. “Shh, it’s okay.”

“But it hurts, doesn’t it?” you whimper as he climbs the stairs.

“I’m used to it. I even forget sometimes, as weird as that might sound. Especially when I’m around you, Logan, the rest of the gang… You make it better.”

“My flowers,” you remember softly. 

“Vanessa still has them. I’ll track down a vase, unless you already have one,” he murmurs.

“Nope,” you whisper. “It’s the first time someone’s given me flowers.”

“Really?”

“Mhm,” you confirm. 

“Well, here’s your stop,” he informs you, gently setting you down. 

“Are you busy tomorrow morning?” you ask. 

“No, what’s up?”

“Eloise is great with photoshop. She managed to draw a depiction of my abilities into some pictures of times I was using them. I thought you might want to see.”

“Uh, yeah, that’d be great!” he cheers, breaking the quiet back-and-forth you two had before. You snicker. 

“Okay. See you then,” you reply. “Goodnight.”

You find falling asleep easier than it’s been in a very long time. 

When you wake up, your flowers from Eloise are in a vase on your nightstand. You get up and stretch before brushing your teeth and whatnot. Afterwards, you get dressed. 

Someone knocks hard on your door.

“Easy, they just replaced this thing!” you scold whoever’s on the other side as you open it. 

“I didn’t know if you’d be awake yet,” Wade sheepishly says. He’s wearing normal clothes, which isn’t entirely unusual. What is unusual, though, is that he’s not wearing the suit underneath them, or even his mask. You can’t help but smile. 

“Come on in,” you tell him. “You can sit at the desk or on the bed, wherever’s fine.”

He sits in the office chair while you pull out your cloth under-the-bed storage container. You heft it up onto the bottom edge of the bed, sitting across from it and unzipping it before flipping the clear vinyl top off.

“Wow.”

“I’m disgustingly sentimental,” you reply, “in case you haven’t figured that out yet.”

“So, that’s all keepsakes?”

“Yeah. My first suits, my old journals, gifts from Eloise, DVDs from talent shows and school musicals, scrapbooks… It’s all in here.” You pluck the small one containing the pictures Eloise edited. 

“Can I see the other books, too?” he asks. “And maybe we could check out those DVDs?”

“Oh, uh… Sure. You really want to?”

“Duh. I gotta catch up somehow.”

You stiffen. 

“…And he’ll realize that he’s missed out on everything. That’s why it’s so important to write in your diary, so you can tell him all about you.” 

“What’s wrong?” he asks. 

You shake your head. 

“Just something someone said a long time ago,” you assure him. 

“What was it?”

“It’s, uh… It’s something Andrea said, my adoptive mother. It’s not important.” 

“Not important as in actually not important, or not important as in it’s deeply traumatic and you’ll tearfully reveal it to me later at a pivotal moment in our relationship?”

You laugh. 

“Somewhere in between. You already know my dad didn’t like me. I mean, um-”

“It’s okay,” he quickly says. “I know what you mean.”

“I confronted her about it. She emphasized the importance of me journaling so I could catch him up to speed once he realized he missed out.”

“Oh… Gotcha. Do you ever wish I was more like him?”

“What?” You laugh at the ridiculousness of the question. “Fuck no. He was really… Looking back, I don’t think I was the only part of his life he felt disconnected from. I feel sorry for him, more than anything. Why would you ever think that?”

“I don’t know. You just get sort of dodgy when it comes to him, to both of them. It’s okay if you were happy. It doesn’t mean that you don’t care about me and Cheryl, or even Miss Frost for that matter.”

“I won’t lie to you and say I don’t have any happy memories from my childhood. We were a family. We loved each other. But when I remember my first ride on a Ferris wheel, my mom holding me while my dad smiled at us from the opposite side of the cart… I remember their eyes when they were across from me in the courtroom. How cold and emotionless their gaze was as I gave my testimony and how that broke my heart. I remember Miss Frost saying they paid a lot of money for me, so of course they’d sue if they felt like they received a defective product. I remember that I wasn’t their child, I was my mom’s pet that my dad cared for as a living being but didn’t particularly like. So no, I don’t ever wish you were more like him.” 

“Right, yeah, of course. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. You’re only trying to get to know me better and improve our relationship. I couldn’t possibly be angry with you for that,” you reply. 

“That’s a pretty mature response.”

“You think so? I guess it’s because I slept well. You’re probably more used to Cranky Levi. She’s kind of a brat.”

“Is that so?” he replies with a laugh. “Alright, scrapbook time.”

“You got it,” you agree, opening it up. 

“One more thing: why does everyone call you Levi?”

“I don’t really know. I guess ‘Levi’ is a little easier to take seriously than ‘Y/N.’”

“It doesn’t bother you?”

“No. It might seem silly, but it really feels more like a shortening of Leviathan than it does people calling me by my last name.” 

“Oh, yeah, I can see that. Whoa…” he says, taking notice of the picture. You’re sitting on the ground, propped on one arm and holding a sunflower to the camera with the other hand. “Wait, which part isn’t real?”

“Why were you impressed if you didn’t know?”

“You look like a model!” 

“Thanks,” you huff in disbelief. “The sunflower. I was actually holding a stick.” 

“No fucking way, really?” 

“Yep. Sunflowers are her favorite,” you inform him before flipping the page. It’s a shot of you sitting on a unicorn next to a picture of you with a mermaid tail sitting next to the watering hole. Wow, you haven’t been there in ages. 

“Dude…” Wade says. “You really made her see all this?”

“Yeah. Until last night, I’d forgotten how fun it was to use my powers for… Well, fun! I really enjoyed it. I’m thinking about doing story time again, for the younger kids.”

“That’s great,” Wade agrees. You turn the page once more to a couple of you and Ellie from the talent show. She edited in the shimmering swirls you painted into the air as the two of you played. “Wow.” 

“Artistic stuff is a lot easier than imitating real things,” you tell him. “When I do that, I have to work a little harder to make someone believe that it’s really there.” 

“No, I mean, that’s cool and all, but… The way she looks at you. I believed you when you said the two of you loved each other, but that’s an auditorium full of people and she’s looking at you like you’re the only person there. In a good way, I mean.”

“I know,” you reply softly.

“Of course you do. That was a shitty thing to say.”

“No, it’s… It’s kind of nice when other people acknowledge it. Makes me feel like maybe it was real.”

“I know it was. I know Ellie… And now I know you.”

“You’re smart. You know that even if she did remember, it wouldn’t be the same. I’ve killed people.”

“For better reasons than most,” he reminds you. 

“I’ve enjoyed it.”

“At least you’re able to admit that. Couples don’t have to share hobbies, or agree on everything for that matter.”

You cackle at that, closing the book before handing him another. 

“The holidays. Every year. I’ll let you explore this one at your own pace.”

“Cool,” he says, opening it up. The cutest baby he’s ever seen stares back at him with a toothless grin, dressed as a pumpkin. “Oh. You meant every year.”

“Yep. Andrea was more than willing to give them up.”

His eyes fill with tears as he flips through the pages. 

“Oh,” he says softly once he reaches the last page. New Year’s Eve, your senior year. Your last big holiday with Eloise. “Where’s the rest? I mean… Is there another book?”

You shake your head. 

“Right, I guess- I guess I should’ve expected that.”

“The old Logan wasn’t much for holidays. I usually went out.”

“And by went out, you mean…”

“Yeah.” 

“I don’t- I’m not gonna judge you. It just-”

“Disgusts you.”

“It pisses me off that you don’t think you deserve better,” he corrects you. He points out the vase. “That that’s the first time a girl’s given you flowers. That you have this whole treasure trove full of memories, and I’m the first person you’ve shared it with, right?”

You nod, avoiding his eyes. You didn’t mean to upset him. This is the first time in a long time you’ve been scolded. 

“I… Oh, please don’t cry. Not again. I didn’t mean to- I just got carried away,” he stammers. 

“It’s okay. You have a right to your feelings. It’s- It’s only because you care. I feel bad for upsetting you. I thought this would be fun.”

“No, no, it was, it can be,” he insists. “I still need to watch those DVDs. What shows were you in?”

“Phantom of the Opera, Little Shop of Horrors, Heathers. The school has a pretty big budget for the arts, since so many of us are, y’know…” You do a limp wrist motion, and Wade giggles. “They’re all pretty long, so we should probably just watch one. I doubt being cooped up in here watching recordings of musicals isn’t how you planned on spending your day. You pick.” 

“Well, who’d you play?”

“In Phantom of the Opera, I played The Phantom. Little Shop of Horrors, I was Audrey II., and in Heathers I was Heather Chandler, and the understudy for Veronica. Freshmen almost always get chorus and other small roles, so Miss Frost didn’t bother filming that year.” 

“What?! You didn’t tell me you got such big roles, that’s awesome! Ellie was in those too, right?”

“Yeah, she was Meg Giry, Seymour, and JD.”

“Oh, wow, so she got some pretty big roles, too. I didn’t know she could sing.”

“She’s an incredible singer. We used to sing along to songs in the car all the time. We impressed each other, so oftentimes one of us would stop singing to listen and the other would badger them to keep going.” 

“That’s so cute, oh my god. Let’s do Little Shop of Horrors, I always liked the movie.”

“Alrighty, I’ll get it popped in, then.”

You find the DVD, putting it in your Blu-ray player. 

“Old school, huh?”

“Soon enough, we’ll own nothing. It’ll all be streamed via subscriptions or rented. Eugh. I just try to keep as much physical media as I can.”

“I’d never thought of it like that. I’ll definitely be holding my DVDs and VHS tapes closer.” 

You chuckle, pressing play on the video. 

Wade watches, enraptured.

“And Yukio played Audrey… Oh, so that’s where it started?”

“Yep,” you confirm. You’re watching him more than you’re revisiting your past. 

“Wait, you’re-! That’s such an interesting choice, I mean, artistically!”

You chuckle. 

“They felt using a larger puppet would be a waste of my talents. Plus, it created more room in the budget for sets.”

“Oh, yeah, that makes total sense. Wow…”

He continues to watch, his eyes darting all around the screen. His smile grows wider and wider. 

“You’re having so much fun,” he murmurs in awe. “Both of you. I’ve never seen either of you that happy.”

And you never will again, you think. You feel a cold hand on your shoulder. It’s her. 

“Been awhile,” you mumble, dismissing her in a swirl of black smoke.

“What’s that?” he asks. 

“My mind wandered for a second, so an old friend came to visit.”

“Is it scary?”

“She’s not, not anymore. When Eloise and I first met, she saw her. She was startled at first, but she thought it was cool. We were best friends from then on,” you reply. “I have a painting of her somewhere in there,” you reply, gesturing to the container. 

“I’ll have to check it out after this is over. I’m hooked. If things ever slow down with the operation, you should go into local theater. You’re great.”

“Maybe,” you reply. “For now, though… This is good.”

He nods, wrapping an arm around you.

[futurefind]

//okie doke bed time !! :'3 bc its almost and i wont be able to sleep in properly 'til friday (more like til january but like)...

[je-tts]

Pleasepleaseplease do another top 6 songs, Im not asking weekly now but Im too scared to message you and I miss the top 6 weekly. This is song anon btw

Hello song anon,

Okie doke! I shall do another top 6, not much has changed from last time I don't think, couple new songs though! When I like a song, I can listen to it for months so I don't really get new songs coming in often (this is part of the reason I don't want to do top 6 songs often, because honestly the chances of new songs being added is looowwww!!)

1. 1987 by Diamante (currently on repeat, obsessed, makes my brain very happy, instruments and vocals on point)

2. Fear of Heights by A Light Divided

3. Drop Dead Cynical by Amaranthe

4. Cover You by Kelsy Karter and The Heroines

5. Cloudbusting by Kate Bush

6. Sleeping with the Enemy by Butcher Babies

These are the 6 songs I have in my #obsessed playlist and blast at near maximum volume in my car when I need the sensory input 😂

[strwbi-laces]

Oki dokes time to sleep because I have now started ro press the wrong buttons

[redrosesandforgetmenots]

LOVE ending my chapters w the characters going to sleep. Like okie doke time to put my dolls to bed!!!!

[ralfmaximus]

So This Just Happened

Coworker: Hey this thing you wrote a few years ago stopped working

Me: That’s weird. It just.. stopped?

Coworker: Yeah. After we copied it onto a new box

Me: Ah. Probably a permissions issue. Or something’s not completely installed right, or--

Coworker: Yeah we tried all that. And more. Can you fix it?

Me: Okie doke!

So I dig into the Thing I Wrote A Few Years Ago and am horrified at what I find: code I wrote while clearly sleep deprived under crunch-time pressure. It is truly  terrible work. Shocking that it has run so well for so long without crashing. Wow. They should fire the idiot who committed these war crimes, etc

Eventually I narrow my search to a particular function named Report_Preprocessor that does a lot of number crunching and accesses a bunch of tables... but in the end doesn’t actually do anything. It neither returns a value nor modifies any data. It’s possible it DID generate some useful output at one time but got bypassed by something better I wrote later.  

But for certain this is where the Thing I Wrote A Few Years Ago is crashing and I literally cannot tell what it was originally supposed to do.

So I deleted it.

And... problem solved.

Coworker: Oh neat, you got it fixed!

Me: Yep

Coworker: So... what was wrong?

Me: I have no earthly idea 

[shorkbrian]

i’m sorry but i luv your writing/thot process so i have to share this: imagine superstar trainer kiri marrying ur mom. he’s only a few years older (and you had a crush on him first) so you avoid him bc you’re shy/uncomfortable with it. your plans are foiled when mom’s away and y’all are stuck at home during a snow storm, power out, no heat/gas, and no matter how many layers u use nothing beats body heat. kiri is so sweet and just wants to get close and keep you warm/see whats under ur sweats

I’m literally melting rn 

Like imagine Kiri shuffling closer to you on the couch, scooting underneath the blankets you have piled around your body.

He keeps getting closer and closer and closer until he’s pressed up against you, and he feels like a heater, warm and cozy and comfortable. You don’t mind burrowing down into his side a bit, only blushing a little when the big man chuckles at your behavior.

There’s a movie playing on the TV, but you’re kind of sleepy, and your stepdad feels so sturdy and safe against your side, and you’re finally warming to a comfortable temperature, and before you know it, you’re fast asleep.

When you wake up, you’re laying down on a solid surface, heat wrapped around your body and trapped beneath the blankets. The surface rumbles and shifts, and only then do you realize that Kirishima must have moved you.

The room is dark, TV off, lights out. The wind is still howling and moaning outside like a mourner at a grave, beating against the windows and crying to the sky.

Lifting your head means you get a view of Kiri’s face, of his handsome, relaxed self as he gazes down at you, a pleased, soft smile on his features.

You go to apologize for falling asleep on him and for inconveniencing him, but Kirishima doesn’t let you. “It’s warmer this way, plus, I like holding something while I sleep.”

He has his arms wrapped around you, thick biceps pressing heavy against your shoulders, keeping you flush to his muscular chest. You blush a little at the position, shifting your legs and trying not to do anything weird.

But in moving your legs around, you find yourself straddling his thigh, the stocky limb flexing underneath your weight, Kirishima twitching.

“Sorry-” You blush again, intending on moving, but your stepdad drops a hand to your hip, steadying you.

“No, don’t apologize, I get it.” He winks at you, before jiggling his thigh a bit, settling you down further onto it. “I remember doing stuff like this back in high school, I know it feels good.”

A long moment of silence stretched between you two as you processed his words, feeling increasingly awkward.

“Um, okay...” Was all you could come up with.

Kirishima laughed a bit. “You’ve never cuddled with anyone before? It’s nice, isn’t it? ‘Specially with the heat out like this. Power went out while you were sleeping.”

You felt a little silly now, ducking your head and dropping your gaze. That would explain why the lights were off. You had just assumed the movie had finished playing and your stepdad had turned it off, but apparently that wasn’t the case. 

“Temp’s gonna drop fast, we’re probably going to have to use good ‘ole body heat while we sleep. You wanna move to the bed? Or just sleep here?”

A shrug, and Kirishima smiled. “Okie-doke, bed it is. Thank goodness, my back would kill me if I tried to sleep on the couch. Gettin’ old s’no fun.”

The man sat up, and you quickly disentangled yourself from him, ignoring the way his thigh rubbed in between your legs as he moved about. As soon as you felt the chill of the room, you shivered, clacking your teeth together and snatching the blanket tight around yourself.

“Oh, that’s so cold, fuck.”

“Hey, watch your language-” Kirishima chided, rising to his feet as he gathered the rest of the blankets up into his arms. “No potty mouths in this house, yeah? Keep it clean.”

He’d been married to your mom for almost a year now, and Kirishima had easily fallen into the “father figure” role, despite the fact that it wasn’t necessarily needed.

But you indulged him by laughing at his corny dad jokes, complimenting the various meats he grilled for meals, keeping your judgements about his questionable fashion choices to yourself instead of blurting them out to his face.

Kirishima led the way to the master bedroom, the room he shared with your mom, stating that the bed was bigger, it’d be more comfortable. Did you really expect him to fit into your bed?

He was a big man, strong and solid. He was able to throw you over one shoulder, your mom over the other, and run around the house whooping while the two of you laughed and pounded on his back.

“Alright-” Kirishima tossed his armful of blankets onto the bed he shared with your mom, immediately fluffing them up and pulling at the edges until he was satisfied.

The man pulled back the edge, holding it ups as he turned to you. “Head on inside!”

It was cold at first, the sheets and blankets chilly. You snuggled up to Kirishima as soon as the big man laid down, making him laugh a bit as your teeth chattered together.

“S-sorry it’s just so-so c-cold.” You explained.

“Your nose is all red, you look so cute.” His smile is warm, his hands even warmer as they begin to rub up and down your sides.

You don’t know how to respond, let yourself relax into the comforting touch, his fingertips dancing over your sweater.

“So.....” Kiri starts “You’ve never had a boyfriend then? You got so quiet when I asked if you’ve cuddled with someone before.”

A blush rose to your cheeks, and you shook your head. “No, I have. I broke up with him a little bit before you and mom started dating.”

The redhead’s quiet for a moment, then tucks his chin over your head, drawing you closer into his chest. “I’m sorry. Relationships can be hard, I know.”

“It was for the best, I think.” You continue, letting your stepdad rub your back as you talked. “We just didn’t really jive well together I guess. Wish we’d figured that out sooner though.”

The man pressed against you is so sturdy, solid and radiating heat like a furnace. It’s easy to relax in his easy-going presence.

“Well, if you ever miss cuddling, don’t hesitate to come find me, yeah? It’s one of my favorites.”

Kirishima was a touchy man, and it was obvious that his love language was touch, so it made sense. He always had his thick arms wrapped around your mom, was holding her hand, holding yours, placing kisses on your cheeks, kissing your mom every chance he got.

Sometimes he asked you to brush out his hair for him, when you weren’t busy or anything. He’d relax into jelly as you ran the hairbrush through his red locks, contented little sighs falling from his lips.

“Okay, I’ll do that.” You chuckle, thinking to yourself how the world had a funny sense of humor.

Truthfully, when you’d first been introduced to the man your mom had recently started dating, you’d developed a hopeless crush. He was attractive, kind, funny; if your mom wasn't dating him, you would’ve asked for his number.

A small part of you was irritated that the man was young enough for you to date him, your mother unbothered by the sugar stereotype she’d developed.

But ah well, what’s done is done.

“You know, I didn’t know what I'd be like having a daughter.” Kirishima soft voice breaks you out of your thoughts. “You’re almost more like.... I dunno, a friend? If that makes sense. I feel like we’re buddies.”

“Yeah, I feel like that too.” You confess, breathing into his neck, able to smell the cologne he uses, something heady and strong and manly.

A comfortable silence settles around you both, nothing but soft breaths and Kirishima’s warm hands rubbing gently over your body, against your sides, up and down your back, massaging your shoulders.

They traveled too close to your tummy, and you choked out a laugh, flinching away from Kirishima.

“Don’t, ‘m ticklish.” Came your breathless, giggly warning.

“Yeah? Yeah?” The redhead grinned, a glint in his eye, barely noticeable before he pounced, rolling over until you were smothered beneath his hefty weight, unable to move.

Horrible, terrible fingers descended, dug into your ribs and you shrieked, wide smile breaking across your features as your stepdad tickled you.

This is what happiness was made of.

Warm and fuzzy, the smell of rain, the sound of it pattering against the roof. Strong arms around you, a laugh on your lips.

Kirishima’s thigh slipped in between yours, pressed upwards, and you choked on a breath, hands immediately clutching at the man’s biceps.

“You’re so sensitive, it’s so cute.”

No time to say his name, ask any questions. He was situating you on your side, legs tangled with his, a big, beefy thigh still flush against your clothed sex.

“Mm, you ever do this with your boyfriend?” The redhead was moving, hands gripping your waist now, dragging you along his thigh, and you kept bumping up against his chest, his toned stomach.

“Yes-yeah.” Was your breathless reply, head whirling, eyes wide. This isn’t really what you were expecting, not from your stepdad.

But it wasn’t entirely unwelcome.

That’s why you weren’t screaming your head off, recoiling in disgust, scrambling for the phone to call your mom, the police.

No, you were still, pliant against Kirishima as he moved your body, his lazy red eyes fixed on your face. “Hm? Feels nice, doesn’t it? You like it?”

A shaky nod is all you can muster, feeling yourself beginning to drip against your stepdad’s thigh, slick all over your folds, the skin tingling, making your hips jump as your clit pulsed at the stimulation.

God, it felt good.

“You make me so happy, y’know? Such a pretty, smart girl.” He praised, and now you could feel it - feel the cock filling out against your tummy, hot and wet, leaking.

“I really hit the jackpot. A beautiful wife, a gorgeous daughter... I love you so, so much.” Kirishima was breathing heavier, his fingers digging into your hipbones as he dragged you back and forth against him. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. Just wanna take care of you, yeah?  Make you cum lots, whatever you want.”

Almost feverish now, his hips twitching forward, pushing against your tummy again and again, rubbing his cock against your soft flesh, groaning in your ear, breath stuttering-

And then a long moan, a burst of warmth soaking through your pajama shirt, right where the tip of Kiri’s cock rested.

“Oh shit-” He gasped, sucking in air, muscles flexing as he drew back his legs, hands shakily pushing you onto your back.

“That - Jesus, you really got me goin’.” Kiri panted, beginning to kiss at your neck, one of his hands diving into your pajama pants, straight down to strum over your clit.

Already keyed up from the dry humping, veins pumping with excitement, arousal, the thrill of being touched and fondled by your-your stepdad.

A finger teased at your hole, then inched inside, and you bucked your hips, crying out a bit.

“Hey, hey-” He was still a little breathless, a little lightheaded from his orgasm, but the man was determined. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay. I got you. I’m always gonna take care of my girl.”

[moonlit-imagines]

Keep Your Cool

Charles Xavier x student!reader (platonic)

warnings: anxiety/panic attacks

a/n: ty anon, you’re so sweet! did do a few minor changes that would keep charles true to his character but thats about it!!

prompt: anonymous: “Hi! I’m so glad your back and I hope you’ve had a great break! Can I request a Charles Xavier x student!Reader (platonic)

Charles meets this new troubled mutant teen with ice powers. They’re totally new to the school and isn’t so happy about being there. They are always pretty talkative or more like nervous chattering and isn’t doing what they’re supposed to on lessons like being absent, sleeping or talking which leads to them being sent to Charles office a lot. This time Charles can’t help but snap at them for not taking things seriously and he accidentally triggers a little panic attack which Charles notice and he tries his best to help them calm down. Later on they tell him about them having bad anxiety. He feels really bad for not noticing and tries to help the reader the best he can. A little angsty fluff?

This type of anxiety isn’t really represented that much and I think it would be good for people to know that you don’t have to be extremely introverted to have anxiety. BUT if you don’t feel like writing this I support that. I wouldn’t want you to do something you don’t wanna do. Sending all my love!😘 also don’t be shy if you wanna change something!”

“Come in!” Professor Xavier announced from behind his desk after hearing a pound on the door. Lo and behold, it was you who walked through the door. “Mx. l/n, what a surprise,” he sarcastically remarked, “what seems to be the trouble this time?”

“Well, you see, Prof,” you began while pulling up a chair and ignoring the disappointed expression on Charles’ face, “I was just so, so nervous about finals that I was tossing and turning the whole night, you know? So I got like, zero sleep, no biggie.” The Professor intently listened with his elbows propped onto the oak finished desk, fingers pressed together. “A kid needs their sleep, and how could I get any if I was like, super focused on finals? I think I should be rewarded for how dedicated I am, just saying.”

“Go on...” Charles could feel your emotions through your presence, there was a suppression of emotions from within you, but oddly enough, your mutation had been a huge help at hiding things from nosy telepaths. Seriously, you thought the ice was cool, but hiding your feelings and thoughts from someone as powerful as that was next level. It did have some downsides, though.

“Right, so,” you shifted to an improper posture and scratched the crown of your head, “I actually took a little catnap myself ‘while the lesson was in progress.’” Your air quotes were a direct mockery of your teacher, which only irked the headmaster a bit more that he already was now that he’d visited with you three times this week.

“You do realize that finals aren’t for another four months, y/n?” Professor Xavier pointed out a fact that you were well aware of, but the excuse was worth a shot.

“Can never be too prepared.” You shrugged, signifying your absolute carelessness for being a deviant student in a school that did nothing but accommodate for all your needs...well, almost all of them.

“Enough is enough, y/n!” Charles snapped, rubbing his fingers along his temples as he tried to bare with this situation that made him think his mind was playing tricks on him. Were his problems replaying? “I am growing tired of your excuses, this school was an opportunity for you and you’re so close to blowing it for yourself. Is that what you want?” As the Professor continued his rant, the temperature felt as if it’d dropped a by a few degrees.

You sat in your seat, knees now pressed against your chest as you gave Charles a menacing stare, unable to speak or reply to the Professor. Ice was beginning to glaze over the windows of his office, freezing them shut. The door was a no-go as well, no one could move that handle if they tried.

“Y/N?” An expression of concern surfaced on Charles’ face as he sat up and tried to assess the situation. “Y/N, are you alright?” You shook your head in response and noticed some ice crystals forming on yourself, some had been weighing your eyelashes down while others were poking off your arms. Defense mechanism or just a “fun” little reaction to panic?

You were observing the effects of this panic attack only with a swivel of your eyes, not any more movement than that. The Professor was still asking you questions, but you’d tuned him out entirely. He could wait for you, he’d have to.

Despite the room now about twenty degrees cooler, you were feeling quite toasty. And you were thinking about five minutes into the future. What do I do when this is over? Do I have to explain myself? How the hell am I getting out of here? Should I stop? Can I stop? What if I—

You felt a hand carefully rest itself on your shoulder, you couldn’t help but jump. “Could you take a deep breath for me?” Charles asked with more compassion in his eyes, seems that he’s realized his mistake by now. You did happen to struggle with his request for a moment, but catching your breath did eventually happen. It did take a few extra tries to control, though. Soon, you were able to stop the spread of any more ice that could prove an inconvenience.

“Panic attack.” You admitted without being asked.

“I gathered.” Professor Xavier was stationary beside you, you may have frozen his chair to the floor. “I apologize for triggering one, I’m not used to being unable to sense someone’s emotions. I would have known were to stop or how to go about that much better if...”

“If it wasn’t for my mutation?” You finished the sentence he stopped because he thought it sounded selfish, like he was placing the blame on you.

“Precisely.” Charles took a deep breath and you decided that you should do the same. The two of you sat in silence as you surveyed all the exits and realized you were in a new predicament. “I don’t suppose you can unfreeze things, can you?”

“That I cannot.” You picked at some of the eyelash icicles and flicked them away. “Any students with a warmer mutation?” You suggested with an apologetic smile.

“I’ll call Doctor McCoy.” The Professor grabbed his wheels and realized that he would not be going anywhere anytime soon. “Y/N?”

“Professor?”

“Could you dial Dr. McCoy’s lab for me? Nine-six-three.” He instructed as you reached over the desk in compliance. The speaker rang a few times and another voice was finally heard on the other side.

“Dr. McCoy! Hi, it’s y/n, your favorite kid on campus,” you greeted, peering over to Charles who was silently urging you to get to the point, “yeah, me and the Prof seem to be in...a predicament. You got like, a heat lamp or something. Maybe Scott Summers? Cool, cool. Yeah, I did! Impressive, I know. Yeah, okay, see you in a few. Or like, an hour. But we will hear you from the other side of the door! Okie doke, bye!” By the time you’d finished your conversation, Charles couldn’t help but smirk at how you handled the after-effects of your situation.

“Well, it seems we have some free time,” Professor X. pointed out, “would you care to tell me a bit more about your anxiety? If you’re comfortable, that is...”

taglist: @locke-writes // @randomawesomeperson102 // @captainshazamerica // @ravenmoore14 // @thisetaernallove //

[hkita]

Constantly ..

It’s like I have no words.. can’t even explain what I’m thinking

Constantly pulling my own self up to keep from sinking

Did I mess up my own destiny, by repeating the same mistakes

I’ll do anything to stop feeling lonely, whatever it takes

I confided in you, told you about all my troubles

I get a different you every time.. it’s like seeing double

Did I ruin what was meant for me.. should I let this new thing fade

Because I can’t keep this a secret, or else I’ll take it straight to my grave

I never wanted to hurt again, let alone be the person to hurt someone

It’s this sour feeling I get every time after the damage is done

I can’t believe I fell for the okie doke, swear I was smarter than that

But that’s what I get, thinking I would’ve gotten the old you back

It’s time to process these thoughts, I can’t sleep well at night

If you can’t make up your mind, nigga I won’t put up a fight

Im too real with myself, I can’t even begin to pretend

I’m just wondering when in my love life will this agony end..

Constantly running through lovers, but never finishing the race

Fine I’ll be alone.. and I’ll do that shit with grace

H. Kita

25 Apr. 2021

[sunlit-squid]

How about “Holy crap, I thought you were dead! Never do that to me again!” for the prompt?

For those who don’t know, my ask box is open. Send me a simping softness prompt, and I’ll write a short sbsp ficlet for you. ✰

i’m back on my bullshit. if you wanna read this ficlet on ao3, the link is here. otherwise, ficlet under the cut!

also tagging @wowthwtslame, who requested the same prompt a while ago. thank you!

In the dead of night, while everyone was asleep, winter descended on Bikini Bottom.

By the time Squidward woke up and peered out the window, Conch Street was completely covered in glittering white snow. In fact, the wintry landscape stretched so far, there was hardly a speckle of sand left -- just deep, undisturbed snow for miles on end.

Squidward vaguely remembered falling asleep to the late night news, in the middle of a special weather report. What was it Perch Perkins said? “6 to 7 inches of snow overnight?” Fishpaste. That was going to be a lot of snow to clear up before work Monday morning.

But for now … it was Sunday. And Sunday meant no Krusty Krab, no rowdy customers, and -- perhaps best of all -- no Spongebob. Squidward sighed dreamily. Yes. Today, he would stay in, and tomorrow, he would worry about the snow.

-0-

The setup was perfect: soothing herbal tea, a box full of bonbons, and a romantic drama on the television. Squidward had donned his softest, silkiest robe for the occasion, and was just settling onto the couch -- when there was a loud, forceful knock at the door. The octopus groaned. There was only one person who would be willing to come over in this weather…

Sure enough, a few moments later, Spongebob’s high-pitched voice echoed all throughout the once-serene moai: “Heeeeey, Squidwaaaard!” The loud, forceful knocking began anew, drowning out Squidward’s TV entirely.

Annoyed, the octopus pressed pause on his romantic drama, and trudged angrily over to the door. Flinging it open with all the force he could muster, Squidward readied himself for a scream -- but was instead startled by the faces on his doorstep.

Spongebob was there, of course -- but he was accompanied by Patrick and Sandy, too. All three of them were dressed in wintry ski gear, looking bright and chipper as ever. Spongebob, however, looked oddly flushed, a soft shade of red dusting his yellow cheeks. Perhaps he was cold.

“Howdy, Squidward!” greeted Sandy, waving her gloved hand enthusiastically. “We were just about to head to Sand Mountain for some skiin’, and thought ya might want to tag along.”

“Yeah, come with us, Squidward!” Patrick chimed in. “Spongebob reeeaaaaally wants you to -- oof!”

There was some indiscernible movement behind Spongebob, which made Patrick double over in pain. Sandy, however, continued to smile, a bit forcefully now. Pushing Spongebob forward, the squirrel continued, “Anyway, whaddaya say, Squidward?”

Squidward blinked. This was weird. For one, the trio at his doorstep seemed oddly tense. And for two, Squidward was not a good skier. Or a skier at all, really. The last time he skied at Sand Mountain, nearly a year ago, had been an accident -- Spongebob lost control of his skis, and barreled directly into Squidward (who, mind you, wasn’t even skiing, just spectating). The force of the collision carried both of them across the mountain, and into the icy waters beyond.

After that incident, they both got a nasty cold, which lasted for nearly two weeks. During that time, Spongebob insisted on coming over frequently, just to hang out. I’m so sick, I can’t hang out with anyone else! the sponge explained. But you’re sick too, Squidward, so let’s get better together, okay?

It was the worst two weeks of Squidward’s life -- never mind that Spongebob cooked good meals and watched the same shows and looked really cute in his sleep…

Wait. No. No.

“No,” snapped Squidward, moving to close his door. “Absolutely not.”

Before the door could close completely, however, Spongebob stepped forward, wedging himself in the doorway. “But Squiiidward,” the sponge whined, pouting beautifully. His brilliant blue eyes shimmered in the mid-morning sun. “I wanna hang out with you today!”

The octopus froze, heat rising to his cheeks. With a deep breath, Squidward yelled, “I am not going, and that is final!” before slamming the door in their faces.

-0-

Somehow, some way -- Squidward wound up in the backseat of Sandy’s newly-invented wintermobile, trudging through the snow-packed streets of Bikini Bottom. Spongebob was seated right next to him, singing along to a cheery Christmas song on the radio. Patrick, in the passenger seat, was singing too, but it was clear he didn’t know the words at all.

The octopus scowled. How did this happen?

It was Spongebob’s fault, no doubt. One moment, Squidward was lounging on the couch -- and the next, he was rummaging around the closet, searching for his winter gear. Something about Spongebob’s words -- I wanna hang out with you today! -- made the octopus feel stupid, loopy, and warm.

Squidward was no stranger to loneliness. It was his oldest friend, his most constant companion, and the octopus was … okay with that. Content, even. But Spongebob Squarepants, with his stupid smile and pretty blue eyes and cute face, just had to go and ruin it, every time. Squidward, you wanna watch a movie? Squidward, you wanna go to the park? Squidward, you wanna try out this new cookie recipe? And despite Squidward’s better judgment … whether due to loneliness, or boredom, or what have you … he would say yes, every time.

This was one of those times.

“Hey, hey,” Spongebob whispered, interrupting Squidward’s thoughts. “I’m glad you changed your mind. I always have more fun with you around, Squidward.”

Squidward blushed furiously, folding his arms across his chest. “Don’t read into it. I just thought it would be good to get out of the house.”

“Oh, it will be! And I practiced some cool tricks,” said the sponge, waving his arms around erratically. “I wanna show them to you, okay?”

Squidward smirked. “If you get hurt, I’ll just point and laugh.”

Spongebob stuck out his bottom lip, in an adorable pout. “I won’t get hurt. I’m an expert!”

“Uh-huh,” said Squidward dryly. “I bet you are.”

Spongebob ignored that snarky remark, and instead moved on to talk about the different tricks he had learned. All the while, Squidward’s gaze lingered on the poriferan’s face: the way it lit up, the way it radiated warmth. On occasion, the octopus would glance up to find Patrick and Sandy eyeing them through the rearview mirror. Whenever they were caught, however, the starfish and the squirrel would immediately look away, whistling awkwardly.

What was up with them?

-0-

When they finally got to Sand Mountain, it was apparent they weren’t the only ones who thought of skiing that day. A decent crowd of Bikini Bottomites had gathered at the mountain, either skiing or talking or drinking hot cocoa from a nearby stand. Some children had even gathered at the base of the mountain, caught up in an intense snowball fight. In all, there was a joyous vibe in the air, the unique, special sort that only comes with very heavy snowfall.

Hurriedly, the four of them piled out of Sandy’s wintermobile, and headed for the slopes. After getting their gear and equipment all squared away, Patrick and Sandy turned to Spongebob and Squidward, with strained, too-wide smiles.

“Well, uh -- Patrick and I are gonna test out the new challenge course on the other side o’ the mountain,” said Sandy, nervously readjusting her ski goggles, which for some reason were strapped around her helmet. “So, uh -- we’ll meet up with y’all in a bit, alright?”

Squidward blinked in confusion. “Why can’t we just go with you -- ?”

“Uh, bye, Spongeward! I mean, Squidbob! I mean … uh …,” sputtered Patrick, as Sandy hurriedly dragged him away -- in the wrong direction, Squidward noted.

“What’s up with them?” asked the octopus, vaguely gesturing to Sandy and Patrick, who were slowly disappearing from sight.

Spongebob laughed, a little too loudly. “Oh, don’t worry about them -- it’s -- uh. They’re, uh. Dating,” stammered the sponge, awkwardly. “They’re just, like, super shy about it.”

Squidward did not believe that for one single second. “Spongebob, what is going on?”

Before Spongebob could reply, the poriferan was swept up by two strong, muscly red arms, tossing him in the air and catching him again. “Spongebob Squarepants!” exclaimed Larry, towering over Squidward in that intimidating way of his. “Buddy, you ready to hit those slopes?”

Spongebob giggled as he was tossed in the air. “I sure am!”

When Larry finally caught sight of Squidward standing there, the lobster laughed loudly. “Oh, Squidward’s here! Good!” said Larry, with a huge grin on his face. “You know, Spongebob has some real cool tricks up his sleeve. He’s been practicing a lot just to impress --”

“AAAH!” yelled Spongebob, for seemingly no reason, startling both Squidward and Larry. After a few seconds, the poriferan laughed nervously, and sputtered, “Oh, uh, sorry, just -- getting all my screams out now, while I can. What were you saying, Larry?”

Larry blinked in confusion. “Well, I was saying, that you’ve been practicing real hard to impress --”

“AAAAH!” screamed Spongebob, louder this time.

“To impress --”

“AAAAAAAAH!” yelled the sponge, once more. This time, the scream was so loud, a pile of snow came rolling off the peak of Sand Mountain, and onto some Bikini Bottomites down below. In the distance, someone screamed something about a leg.

Larry stopped talking. Sighing, he put Spongebob down and said, “Look, why don’t we just … head to the slope, alright?”

Spongebob nodded, seemingly all out of screams. “Okie-doke!”

Quietly, the lobster and the sponge began making their way over to Mariana Course, notably the hardest slope at Sand Mountain. Squidward followed close behind them, thoroughly baffled. Sure, Spongebob was hyperactive, energetic, and borderline insane, but this … this was something entirely different. Spongebob seemed nervous, to the point of genuine distress, and Squidward for the life of him couldn’t figure out why.

Impulsively, the octopus reached out to pull Spongebob back, so they were both walking a few paces behind Larry. “You know, you don’t have to do this course if you’re nervous about it,” the octopus mumbled, keeping his voice low so the lobster wouldn’t overhear. “I mean, it’s not like I care or anything, in fact it would be funny if you, uh, got hurt or whatever, but … the Mariana Course is kind of … questionable, you know?”

By ‘questionable’, Squidward meant damn near fatal. The Mariana Course wasn’t even an official part of Sand Mountain, until the Drasticals broke it in by force. Its rocky, hazardous terrain practically financed the new wing of the Bikini Bottom General Hospital.

Spongebob, however, seemed determined. “Trust me, Squidward, I’ve got it all under control!” he chirped. Then, with a small, cute chuckle, the sponge asked, “Why? Are you worried about me?”

Squidward felt hot, all of a sudden. The octopus stormed ahead, warmth clinging to his cheeks. “Let’s just get this over with!”

Behind him, Spongebob giggled. “Whatever you say, Squiddy.”

-0-

Squidward had to admit, Spongebob had definitely been practicing. From his spot on the observer’s loft, the octopus could see everything on the Mariana Course: from the brambling bushes to the sharp, jagged rocks, to the slippery snow drifts down below. One by one, Spongebob maneuvered through them all, with grace, aplomb -- even a touch of arrogance.

Spongebob’s tricks were plentiful, and occasionally scary: at one point, the sponge was suspended high in the air, doing crazy flips and turns, all while his skis raced ahead of him. Squidward was worried, for a moment, that the skis would outpace Spongebob -- but somehow, the poriferan managed to land perfectly, right atop both of them, once again.

Squidward found himself sighing, dreamily. Sure, Spongebob was annoying ninety percent of the time, but the boy was also weirdly athletic … which had a certain, insufferable charm to it.

“Hey, Squidward,” came Larry’s voice. Squidward jumped slightly -- he’d honestly forgotten the lobster was still around. When Squidward turned, Larry was approaching with two mugs of hot cocoa in both claws. Gently, he handed one to Squidward, who accepted it gratefully. “Drink while it’s hot.”

“Thanks,” said Squidward. The warmth of the mug felt lovely, especially in the bitter cold.

Larry and Squidward sat in silence, watching Spongebob traverse the Mariana Course, for a while -- sipping their cocoa and occasionally gasping at the sponge’s antics. The cocoa was delicious, the perfect soothing drink for a day on the slopes. After a lengthy, peaceful silence, Larry finally spoke up.

“Spongebob really likes you, you know,” said the lobster, finishing the last of his cocoa.

Squidward froze -- and it had nothing to do with the cold temperatures. Wrapping his tentacles around the mug, Squidward sifted around his brain for a good reply. Coming up empty, the octopus simply said, “Yeah. He’s made that pretty clear.”

Larry shifted, leaning on the railing in front of them. “You know, he … asked me to teach him some of those tricks. To cheer you up.”

Squidward turned now, eyes fixed on Larry. “What?” he said, stupidly.

The lobster shrugged. “I don’t really know the details,” Larry sighed. “All I know is, Spongebob thought you seemed sadder lately. And he wanted to try and make you feel better.”

Squidward felt both hot and cold, all of a sudden. In truth … he had fallen into a bit of a depression lately. Over the course of one month, Squidward’s creative pursuits hit a new, staggering low: another one of his scripts had been rejected by the Bikini Bottom Art Society; he was laughed out of the auditions for the Bikini Bottom Philharmonic; and, to top it all off, Squilliam had just premiered a groundbreaking musical in New Kelp City.

Already, the reviews were in: once more, Squilliam was rocking the oceanic world … and Squidward was still just a cashier.

Squidward thought that because he was usually depressed anyway, no one would notice if he was … slightly-more-depressed than usual. But apparently, someone had. And apparently …

“Dear Neptune!” Larry’s sudden, loud voice rocketed Squidward out of his thoughts.

“What? What’s going on?” asked Squidward, looking around frantically -- until he saw it. A tiny yellow body, near the edge of the Mariana Course, lying still, so perfectly still.

-0-

Quickly, Larry and Squidward stole a snowmobile from the mountain staff, and hurriedly rushed towards Spongebob’s tiny, unmoving body. On the way, the lobster explained what happened: Spongebob had been in the middle of one of his stunts. Everything was going perfectly fine, until he had to land on his skis again. The back of Spongebob’s coat got stuck on a kelp branch, which flung him to the edge of the Mariana Course. He landed on sharp, jagged rocks, and from then on, did not move.

Squidward felt a pit opening up inside his stomach. Dear, blessed Neptune and Poseidon. Let him be okay.

When they finally reached the cluster of sharp, jagged rocks, Squidward could hardly believe his eyes. Lying perfectly still, eyes closed, barely breathing, was Spongebob Squarepants, a massive, sharp rock jutted straight through his chest. Behind him, Larry threw up in the woods.

After he recovered, Larry sputtered out, “We should -- we should try to move him … I don’t know a lot about sponge anatomy, but if he stays like that, he’ll regenerate around it … and that’ll make things complicated for the docs … ”

Squidward was already moving. The octopus used his tentacles to carefully maneuver his way around the sharp crevices. When he finally reached Spongebob, the cephalopod shivered with fright. It was bad. The sharp rock wasn’t very long, but it was long enough to look horrific, especially embedded inside of Spongebob’s tiny body.

“Sponge … Spongebob?” croaked Squidward, a flood of anxiety washing over him.

There was no response -- only silence, terrible silence, where Spongebob’s sharp, jittering laugh should be. Squidward felt cold. He did this for me. To make me happy. Me.

“Damn it,” muttered Squidward. Before he knew it, he was crying, large globs of tears streaming down his face. “Why? Why are you like this? Just to make me happy … are you an idiot?”

Suddenly, there was a claw on Squidward’s shoulder. Looking up, he saw that Larry was there, quiet yet firm. Carefully, the lobster latched onto Spongebob, and gently pulled the boy off of the jagged edge. Squidward’s eyes were locked on the rock where Spongebob once was for a moment too long. Then, he carefully made his way out of the jagged rock pile.

Larry had laid Spongebob down in the snow, just beyond the pit of rocks. The gaping hole left in the sponge’s body was terrifying to look at, so open and hollow and wide.

“Medics are coming,” said Larry, with a cough. “But since it’s a sponge, they might take longer … you know, because they --”

“Regenerate,” finished Squidward, kneeling down next to Spongebob’s cold, still form. “He’s not regenerating right now … is that bad?”

“Give it a moment,” breathed Larry, going to grab a blanket from off of the snowmobile. “Kid fell hard. It might be a while.”

Larry returned, blanket in tow, and wrapped it all over Spongebob’s body. Then, he stood, and they all made their way back to the nearby lodge, quiet as can be.

-0-

When they got back to the warmth of the lodge, they laid Spongebob down on a couch in the lobby. Larry draped the blanket over Spongebob once again, to try and hide his wounds as he recovered. Now, only the top of him was visible, his yellow nose just barely peeking out.

This way, Squidward could almost trick himself into thinking the sponge was asleep. With that soft, cute smile, those fluttering eyelashes … yes. Spongebob was just sleeping, and soon, he would wake up, and laugh, and all would be right with the world.

As time passed, several Bikini Bottomites came through, to ask what happened. Larry explained carefully, since Squidward could hardly bring himself to speak. At some point, Patrick and Sandy showed up too, looking equally devastated, Sandy muttering something about I knew this idea was plumb awful, why didn’t I trust my gut …

All the while, Squidward held Spongebob’s squeaky little hand, and did not let go for a second -- even when the medics finally arrived. By then, things looked good: Spongebob was regenerating normally. But he still hadn’t woken up yet.

When the medics left, Squidward almost fell asleep holding onto Spongebob’s hand. That’s when Sandy showed up, right beside him.

“Hey,” she said. Her tone was friendly, but her concern was clear.

“Hey,” said Squidward, giving Spongebob’s hand a gentle squeeze.

Sandy hesitated for a while. Then, with blunt simplicity, she said, “I think he could make ya happy, Squidward. If ya let him.”

A funny feeling settled in the pit of Squidward’s stomach. Looking down at Spongebob’s resting, peaceful face, the octopus replied, “But what if I hurt him?”

The squirrel shrugged. “If you’re already worried about it, I’d say that ain’t gonna happen.”

Squidward found himself smiling, despite himself. “Thanks, Sandy.”

She shook her head, laughing to herself. “Don’t mention it,” she said. “Just tired o’ watching y’all play hard to get, is all.”

-0-

At some point, Larry, Patrick, and Sandy went to grab food, in case Spongebob woke up and needed sustenance … leaving Squidward to man the helm. Come nightfall, the sponge finally stirred.

Immediately, Squidward sat up -- just as Spongebob sat up, too, rubbing at his eyes with his free hand. Then, he laughed -- thank Neptune for that laugh -- and turned to face Squidward, enthusiastically.

“Did you see that cool trick I did --” the sponge began, but was interrupted by Squidward, enveloping him in a huge, crushing hug.

“Holy crap, I thought you were dead! Never do that to me again!” cried the octopus, shaking and shuddering with tears. “You absolute idiot.”

Spongebob, caught off guard, simply held Squidward closer. “You know I regenerate,” said the sponge, slightly muffled by Squidward’s shoulder.

“You were impaled, Spongebob --”

“I was? That’s crazy --”

“Spongebob,” said Squidward, firmly, pulling away from the embrace. Awkwardly, the octopus looked down, sighing heavily. “Look, you … you don’t have to go to extreme lengths just to make me happy.”

Spongebob blinked, then blushed. “Who told you --”

“It doesn’t matter,” interrupted Squidward, whose face had erupted in bright splotches of red. “Just -- just be around me, alright? That’s all you gotta do, is be around me, and suddenly I’m all … stupid, and happy or whatever. Whatever! Alright? You don’t have to do … all of this.” Squidward gestured vaguely to the lodge, and the ski courses beyond.

It was Spongebob’s turn to be red in the face. “That’s … it? That’s all I have to do?”

Squidward sighed, and before he knew what he was doing, pressed a soft, chaste kiss atop Spongebob’s head. “That’s all you’ve ever had to do.”

“Aww,” came a loud voice from directly behind them. When they turned, they found Patrick, Larry, and Sandy in the doorway, holding a bunch of bags from the Barg’N Mart. Patrick was clapping, and in the process dropped the majority of his grocery bags. “Great job, buddy! Mission accomplished!” shouted the seastar, proudly.

Squidward dropped his head into his tentacles. “I hate all of you,” he muttered, despite the small smile curling across his lips.

[hummingbird-games]

Dev Blog # 18

Happy December good folks! Trying to learn (this time) from my past mistakes and slow the HECK down because last month was...a month. Plans this month were 1) an updated demo 2) chaos trailer and 3) finished base game so I can pinpoint release date. 

In honor of respecting my limits...you will get at most 2 out of 3 from me. 

What have been up to since I’ve been gone? Not much. Is this me advocating for mental health while blatantly ignoring my own???

I got some more editing done. I’m on Lydia’s path for line/transition edits and I’m glad to know that I still love this game with every fiber of my being. I’m just struggling a bit now…but ain’t we all??? 😂 for context, I’m 3/6 paths done with this particular editing pass. I’m also debating another round of beta testing �� but for bugs and feedback. But in early 2022 because I cannot cram anything else in this year. 

I received all of my sprites! There’s a [redacted] scene that calls for [redacted] so we’ll revisit this in early 2022 with my sprite artist when I’ve saved up game funds and can reveal super cool awesome amazing stuff

As of drafting this dev-log...the updated demo is done. Like, just-slap-that-bad-boy-up-on-itch.io done. So. I will set some time aside this weekend to reacquaint myself with Butler LOL. (Tumblr heard it first, but look out for a release on this coming Sunday or Monday)

Chaotic trailer is....almost done. My perfectionism is getting in my way (and so is the self induced stress that is myself). But if it doesn’t get done until January, then that’s fine. I will live. Mostly. 

Some small milestones:

Happy one year to working on this game/ starting Hummingbird Games officially

Happy almost end to 2021 🤣

HAPPY 500+ DOWNLOADS ON ITCH.IO!

Some random news:

Remember the gaming laptop saga guys? Guess what there’s been an update and it involves Black Friday and getting a MUCH better deal on a more powerful device 😂 I decided to dedicate it only to games so I’ll continue to code on my current device.

GAMES/DEMOS I’VE BEEN PLAYING

Raptor Boyfriend: A High School Romance - I want to INHALE THIS GAME but alas life keeps getting in the way. I’m still on my first run (this is on me for WAITING SO LONG TO BUY IT), and ALL 3 love interests are divine, MC is super fun and awkward and funny, and this feels so much like an animated 90s show that I just wanna cry happy tears. Also it’s the high school genre??? We love to see it. 

Ise & Kai: Chosen Throne - Just wanna praise the @rieindiegames​  team because the lore and worldbuilding they’ve created is absolutely amazing. I finally got to sit down and play through the demo and it was nothing like I expected in the best way possible. (TBH it felt more like the full game than a “demo” and I’m still picking my jaw off the ground aha.)

Nevergrove - Don’t remember how I found this one but it’s a point and click visual novel and it’s SUPER fun!! There’s a mystery surrounding a missing (dead??) girl and while you’re in your aunt’s town there’s people to befriend and date 👀

Belle Automata - There’s 26ish hours left to support this Kickstarter so if you haven’t had a chance, please check out the demo and then support however you can! Ratings and reviews are pretty darn cool too. 

Sims 4 - There’s that new scenarios update thingy and right now I'm trying the holidays one where it’s a 2 person household/enemies to lovers, and not gonna lie, it’s super hard. I want my sims “to kith” but they’re too busy shouting forbidden words at each other and refusing to sleep in the same bed (because maybe I purposefully have one bed, so what.)

...

Okie doke guys, as always thank you for reading/skimming! For reaching the bottom of this devlog, you’ve won a special prize!! Florence screen incoming!!

- Gemini 💛