#or rather C’s get laundry put away cause I’m the laundry person
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foldingfittedsheets · 7 months ago
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Today’s Non Sequitur sang your name 😂
https://www.gocomics.com/nonsequitur/2024/04/01
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Fitted sheet on the left, top sheet on the right. Is it going back in the box? Probably not, but I do think it’s at least a C!
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honeybunnybeez · 4 years ago
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If you want to you could write some C! Dream being soft around reader?
Secluded Cabin's and Gentle Touches
♡Pairing: Dream x GN!Reader (with hints of platonic!GN!reader x Tommy and Tubbo)
♡Genre: Fluff
♡Format: Fanfiction
♡Summary: It's not uncommon for Tommy and Tubbo to bring people over to your place so you can help calm them down after a prank, but today they seemed to drag by a familiar face that you have yet to properly spend time with. Lucky for you, he seems to be longing to talk to you as well.
♡Au Setting: Au where the war never happens but tensions are still high.
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"Get back here!"
Despite the voice ordering them to stop, Tommy and Tubbo continued to run like their lives depended on it, and to be fair, it kinda did in this situation. Wet hands stained in different coloured dyes served as proof of their crimes and a green hooded man wearing an awfully smudged looking mask makes it clear who their latest prank victim was.
"What were we fucking thinking!?" but a laugh at the end of his yelling as he dodges Dream's outstretched hand makes it clear that Tommy doesn't regret his life choices at all.
"I don't know!" Tubbo on the otherhand, was starting to regret his involvement in the prank. His legs were starting to ache and his chest began to burn as he slowly became exhausted. A wild chase like this isn't exactly new to them but Dream's persistence really makes it hard for a person to catch a breather between runs. "Tommy, where are we even going!?"
Tommy opened his mouth to respond but a trail of scattered lanterns and torches answers Tubbo's question for him. Tubbo lets out a knowing, "ooooh!" And uses whatever remaining energy he can to keep up with Tommy, knowing exactly what his friend had in mind.
In the distance, they can see you sitting on your porch, playing with a parrot you had managed to tame while out searching for cocoa beans. Relief washes over them when you lock eyes with them and start jogging over with your bird in tow, a worried expression evident on your face.
They're quick to hide behind you when they get close enough, clutching the back of your shirt while trying to catch their breaths to answer your questions as to who they were running from this time and why.
"Dream-" is all Tommy can manage to wheeze out before he's coughing up a lung and swearing again.
"Ah," honestly, after knowing the pair for a good few years now, just mentioning a name gives you a pretty good idea of the type of prank they pulled and the danger they could be in. Thankfully, Dream wasn't a major threat, to you at least.
"Alright, alright, go hide in the house quickly and don't come out until I tell you guys to. If I die, make sure to take care of the farm animals and bees for me."
"Bless you, (y/n)."
"Your sacrifices won't be in vain, we promise!"
You give them a joking salute and urge them to go inside quickly, informing them that you can hear Dream approaching closer. Once the boys were safely inside, you tried your best to look as natural as possible with the limited time you had to adjust yourself. When Dream arrives, you can see that he's just as tired as the boys are thanks to the chase, though his stance continues to be tense as he frantically looks around for them, fists clenched tight until his knuckles turned ghost white.
"Fuck, where did they run off to?"
"Not gonna give a stranger a kind hello after walking onto their lawn with murderous intent?" You and Dream weren't really strangers per say, you had to meet up with him when you moved into the server after all, but due to conflicting schedules and how often Tommy and Tubbo dragged you away whenever he tried to make conversation, you two didn't know each other all that well. That doesn't mean that you didn't want to try though.
When Dream realizes where he was and who he was talking, he's quick to adjust his mask and hoodie to make himself look somewhat... presentable, as presentable as he can look with sweat marks and a messed up mask at least.
'Why did those two have to run up to your house out of all places,' Dream mentally whines to himself, clearing his throat and giving you a single awkward wave as he walks up to you.
"Hey, (y/n). I didn't know you lived in this part of the server," that was a lie. Dream did know where you live, he knew where everyone did but it would be a little creepy to just put that information out there, wouldn't it?
"It'd be a little weird if I just started screaming out my address to random people on the streets, wouldn't it?" You try to joke, earning a little laugh from Dream.
"Okay, yeah, you got me there."
You pat an empty spot beside you on your porch step, inviting Dream over for a bit of rest and he accepts your offer gratefully, practically slumping beside you as he suddenly feels just how tired he is.
"Love the new look you gave your mask by the way," Dream groans at your teasing and pulls at his hoodie strings, hoping to cover his whole mask with his hood. He's glad you can't see his face right now because he can feel his cheeks practically burning at the fact that when he finally gets a chance to talk and get close to you it's when he's a sweating tired mess who looks like a wreck at best.
"I'm going to kill those two when I find them," he mumbles under his breath.
The slam that follows within your home could not have been more terribly timed.
"What was that?"
"Must be my wolves," you lied through your teeth, knowing damn well that your actual wolves were sleeping in your bedroom, "they learned how to open doors recently, I think they're messing around at the moment."
While he's distracted, staring at your window to check what's going on inside of your home, you're quick to read through your most recent private messages on your communicator.
Tommy: HE'S HERE!
Tommy: (Y/N), WHY AREN'T YOU TELLING HIM TO FUCK OFF!?
Tommy: Fuck this, we're hiding in the kitchen.
Tubbo: We're making a run for it through the back.
Tommy: We'll hide in your barn like runaway children.
Tubbo: Isn't that what we technically are right now?
Tommy: (y/n), we're making a fucking run for it if you don't answer us in 3 seconds.
Tommy: 3!
Tommy: 2!
Tubbo: We'RE OUT! I REPEAT, WE'RE OUT!
"Yup," you pop your P a little at the end, annoyed yet amused at the string of frantic messages still continuing to pop up on your communicator as they make their escape, "definitely my wolves causing all of that chaos."
Dream knows that you're lying from the way you read through your messages but he doesn't say a word about it, choosing instead to take this golden opportunity to get closer to you without worrying about anyone getting in the way.
"Not really how you thought the day would go, huh?"
You can't help but laugh and shake your head, "Not at all, I thought it was just going to be another boring day with my bird, but hey, I'm glad you showed up to make it a little more special."
"Really?" Dream hates how happy he sounds to hear you say that, but he'll beat himself up over it another time.
"It's not everyday you see Mr. WasTaken himself visiting your humble home, now is it?" Oh, or maybe he won't.
"I guess not, that really should change, shouldn't it?" You can hear the little grin in his voice as he realizes the game your playing.
"It really should, but a quick heads up would be good, unless you'd like to deal with said 'wolves' I mentioned earlier."
He chuckles and shakes his head, mentioning how he's more than aware that those two 'wolves' of yours would probably rip him apart if he ever visited you unannounced.
It isn't long before you invite Dream inside, offering to help clean his mask as an apology on the boys's behalf. He claims that he doesn't mind but he would rather not take his mask off in front of you when he hasn't gotten to know you all that well.
"You don't have to remove it if you feel uncomfortable, I'll just wipe away whatever I can with a cloth, but if you're still hesitant, I'd understand."
He takes a moment to consider your offer, trying to see if you have any other ulterior motives. It's not that he doesn't want to trust you, he does, but sometimes you just have to be a little extra cautious even with people you like. Sensing no ill intent on your part though, he relaxes himself once more and accepts your help, letting his hood finally loosen and fall back to ease your process.
Your actions are incredibly comforting to Dream who can't help himself from leaning into your touches every once in a while. He watches you with his fullest attention as you wipe away the mess on his mask with a damp cloth. He loves how focused you look while doing so, taking in every little quirk you may have while you concentrate. His little crush on you that he's harboured ever since he saw you running around the server can't help but grow every second you give him your attention.
There's a certain draw to you that Dream can't fight off no matter how hard he tries, you just manage to hold a certain power over him and that was evident by the fact that he completely lost interest in continuing his hunt for Tommy and Tubbo even after finding out that they were still most likely on your property. Dream was a persistent man, he was never one to simply drop something with no proper reason at all. There was just this appeal to you that he couldn't describe and he was desperate to find out what it was about you that made him act differently than he normally would.
"Okay then, that's the last of it," he has to stop himself from letting out a whine when you pull your hands away from his mask, he wants to say something to try to get you to continue on longer but decides against it, not wanting to seem desperate. His eyes don't leave you even after you pull away, watching you rinse off the dirty cloth before throwing it into what seemed to be a bin filled with laundry. When you return to sit by his side, he can't help but swallow a bit of his pride to rest his head on your shoulder. It's a big risk to take, but at least he has an excuse for his actions if he ever needs it.
"Tired, Dream?"
"Mhmm," he feels himself melt when you let your fingers run through his slightly sweat damp hair, clearly unphased by the state of it much, to his joy.
"You wanna rest here for a while? I'm sure you could get a good nap in before leaving."
"That depends, can I still use you as my pillow?"
"Not like I have anything else to do for the rest of the day, knock yourself out."
"Then if you'll excuse me," his head is quick to leave your shoulder to instead rest in your lap and the blissful sigh he lets out escapes his lips before he can even stop himself. You just feel so comfortable to him. "I'm gonna drift off, wake me up in an hour or so, will you?"
You let out a hum in response and it isn't long before you start to see Dream's body go slack, his breathing now steady and deep as he slowly falls asleep. It's quite endearing seeing Dream act so affectionately towards you, something you certainly didn't expect from a guy who carries himself with a subtle wave of authority, but you definitely weren't complaining as you continued to play with his hair once again.
Dream would never tell a single soul about it, but this was quiet possible the best sleep he's gotten in years, if he even tried to sleep at all to begin with. The thought to just slow down and relax is never really on his mind, his head always spinning with things he has to do. However, with you, he's glad to know that he can look to you for comfort from now on, something he now realizes is rather hard to find on the server. It pains him to know that he'll have to leave in just a few moments but for now, he'll take what he can get from you and maybe, if you let him, he'll be sure to return your sweet gestures tenfold one day.
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A/N: Hello, everyone! I am so sorry for being absent recently, I know the writer's block excuse can only go so far but- yeah ^^' I'm so sorry again for everything and I'm sorry if this isn't what you were hoping for anon! Thank you so much for the rquest and feel free to request it again if you want me to remake this to hopefully suit what you wanted. Anyways, I hope you all have a good day and thank you so much for reading!
(Requests are open and anon is on!)
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qslovebot · 4 years ago
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Nobody: Spencer Reid
Summary: After an accident on a case, the reader is left with trauma and anxiety. A miscommunication between her and the person she needs most (Spencer Reid) begins to eat her alive and he just so happens to be the only one there when she breaks again.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Warnings/Includes: mentions of kissing, mentions of traumatizing events (not specified), depictions of anxiety, fluff, miscommunication, angst to fluff
A/N: The song is Nobody by Mitski. Read with this for the ultimate experience.
Sometimes things felt too literal. Words start to sound weird and feel weird when you say them, clothes feel too much like clothes against your skin, the texture of any food in your mouth becomes too prevalent while eating.
These things started happening after you witnessed and endured something awful on a case. You wouldn't dare bring up the full memory in case it took over and killed you all over again. It wasn't PTSD, but it was the cause of your anxiety attacks most of the time when they occurred.
After that case, you spent a week in the hospital where they happened nearly every day and the doctors weren't much help, to be frank. The only people who really ever helped were your friends and the person you were so close to dating, Spencer Reid.
It was a long story. To dumb it down, the case event happened and you and Spencer thought you were about to die so he confessed his feelings for you and of course they were reciprocated. He asked, then and there through stuttering words, 'If we make it out of here please go out with me?" As his last bit of hope, and he kissed you before you were taken away by the unsub. He didn't endure nearly as much as you did which was why he wasn't as affected. But you had said 'yes' to that question and three weeks later, you still hadn't talked about it.
When the anxiety attacks happened, you often felt like you couldn't breathe, like the walls were pressing in on you. Sometimes you'd be with JJ when it happened. She would immediately ask you what you needed and often that would just be a hug.
Emily witnessed one at your house when she came over to check on you. She rushed over, caring voice and soft hands and told you to put your head between your knees, stroking your hair until you felt better.
Penelope made the 30-minute drive from her house every Friday night she wasn't working on a case to bring you dinner she had made and chat with you about anything you wanted.
Your friends cared for you, it was so prevalent. It was almost always that fact that was getting you through this as you continued to get better. You would return to work in two weeks because now the anxiety attacks were only once in a while and better controlled by you and Spencer still hadn't spoken to you since.
It was now nearly two weeks later. You would go back to work on Monday.
"He did come to visit you in the hospital before you woke up," Penelope said, stirring her cup of ramen. It was just another Friday and she sat across from you in your chair, cross-legged. "I don't know what's up with him if he isn't speaking to you, he seems fine at work."
You sighed, swallowing your bite. "I'm just scared that he regrets what he said and did before I was dragged away. It was those words and that kiss that got me through what the unsub did and I keep thinking about it and him..."
"It was romantic," she noted, waving her chopstick in the air. "I think you should call him, rather than just text him. It'll catch him off-guard and in-the-moment."
"Now?"
"Yes, so I can listen!"
You smiled a little, pulling out your phone as your heart began to race. What if he did pick up? What if it was awkward? What if he somehow didn't remember?
You pressed on his name, then pressed call. It began to hum quietly with pending rings. One ring, two, then five, then seven, then there was a small beep.
'You've reached Dr. Spencer Reid, uh, leave a message,' his voice said through the machine, still as sweet and youthfully scratchy. You bit your lip and nodded.
"I should have known that he didn't want to talk. Penelope, I can't stop thinking about him and he keeps ignoring my calls and I'm... frankly I'm afraid that nothing will ever happen and he'll ignore me forever."
Penelope cringed, "(Y/N), uh... there's... it's gone to voicemail and you're recording."
"Shit!" You panicked, looking at your phone. "How do I stop it?!"
"The red button!"
"That's the end call button I-" you pressed it by accident. Oh my god, the message went through. You just sat there with Penelope, both of you frozen in shock. That did not just happen... did it really just happen? Your one moment of self-pity and worry was one moment that Spencer would hear if he touched his phone on a Friday night.
The rest of the night was spent with you fighting off panic, pacing your room. Penelope agreed to stay overnight, but you could not handle the fact Spencer would hear what you said. It was humiliating to think about him hearing you stress over something like that.
This is what nagged at you all weekend, threatening the impending anxiety that was building up. Every second was agony, spent pacing and overthinking. Sleep was hard to get, so you took melatonin and your dreams taunted you with it all over again.
Monday morning you rushed to get dressed. You needed to see Spencer, no matter how hard it was to face him. You pulled on dress pants and a navy blue cotton v-neck shirt with bell sleeves. Laundry was forgotten through two days of panic, so this was pretty much the only shirt you had.
You brushed through your hair and applied your regular makeup and there, you were presentable and didn't look like you'd lost your mind over the weekend. You were going back, finally. It was somewhat refreshing if you dismissed the Spencer ordeal.
The drive there was fine. Music helped to calm you down and you listened as long as you could. Stepping into the BAU was different, it felt like you were being crushed the moment you stepped in.
"There's my girl!" Derek Morgan was the first to notice you walk in and he greeted you with open arms and a crushing hug. You smiled, letting him. It had been a while since you last saw him. He let you go after a few seconds, but his hands stayed on your shoulders. "We missed you here, things weren't as fun without you."
"I bet," you grinned, heading to your desk. You could hide your freakout well. "I missed the smell of coffee and paper in the morning."
"(Y/N), glad to have you back," Hotch said, walking down the steps. He did seem honestly glad to see you as there was a small twitch of his mouth when he approached you and Derek. "You're sure you're alright to work again? I assume today is a file day, but we'll be back out there soon."
You nodded, smiling back. "Getting there, but it's controllable now," He narrowed his eyebrows. "I'll be fine for the field and if I'm not, I can always stay at the precinct to work things out there."
Hotch looked to Derek, then back at you. "Sounds good. Again, glad to have you back, agent." Hotch shook your hand and passed you, heading into JJ's office.
"Morgan..." You started, fiddling with your fingers. "Have you seen Spencer?"
"Yeah, he just went to the washroom, why?"
"I need to talk to him..."
The day went on and of course, you saw Spencer, but he paid you no mind. Not even a 'welcome back' or anything. You were just there and it was like you never left, except Spencer didn't even look at you. He was busy with his work and you constantly found yourself watching him. Maybe he'd heard your voice mail, maybe not, but either way, he didn't seem to care anymore.
That month and a half you spent recovering- was it possible that he used that time away from you to get over you? The idea was haunting and tugged at your heart. To be the only one all-in was such an incredibly painful idea. What he said before you were dragged away into the depths of hell meant something to you and it kept you alive... and to think he probably didn't mean it...
You needed to stop thinking about it before it made you burst into a million pieces. To be surrounded by everyone who you loved and loved you back wasn't enough if you couldn't have Spencer, too. Selfish, it sounded so selfish, but it shook you to the core that he wasn't amongst them.
The day continued and more pain was endured. More overthinking, more fear, more insecurity. The day was nearing its end.
Everybody seemed like nobody when Spencer was out of the picture. You had spent so much time thinking about him in the hospital and at home in recovery, who were you without wondering you could make it work? Nobody. Without the fantasy you could be his, you stranded on some sort of island. You were nobody if not Spencer's.
So you were nobody.
It was that thought that keeled you over the edge in the parking lot of the BAU. So much fear, so much pent-up emotion, it was too much to contain and just... spilled over onto everything as your hands began to shake, followed by that godawful feeling in the pit of your stomach. Your knees gave out and you fell conveniently onto the curb next to your car.
There was nobody there, either. You were alone on the concrete curb, face in your shaking hand and the other shaking hand gripping the curb so hard your knuckles turned white. Too much, too little, everything was wrong and you couldn't face Spencer.
You looked up for a brief moment and there was a brief look at someone in a beige cardigan and khaki pants and your heart fell to the pit of your stomach- as if you were humiliated enough. Footsteps, closer.
"A-are you okay?" His voice was a little panicked, definitely not as bad as yours, though. Overall, you were just glad he was within six feet of you.
Of course, you were pretty much unable to reply. Your face stayed in your hands and you felt light fingers on your shoulder, his, and they were somewhat grounding. God, he was here and you couldn't even talk to him, you couldn't even raise your head.
"What do you need, I- what happened?" He cared. But to what extent? His hands felt frantic- they shook a little (again, not nearly as bad as yours) and they moved from your shoulder, to upper arm, to near your neck, to the side of your head. "If this is my fault, I-"
He stopped himself. How could he possibly know that it was the thought of him that sent this into motion? The voicemail didn't entail much other than he was on your mind. You hardly even noticed that you were crying from the anxiety attack until you felt how wet your hands were. Your words kept piling on your tongue and the panic rose again in an entirely new wave.
"Do you- do you need help? I can get Hotch or... Derek, Derek knows, I know, but I don't- I don't think you like me very much and I won't be of help-I-I-I-" His voice continued to ramble and you were flooded with new thoughts. How could he possibly think that you didn't like him? In those moments before you were taken, you had said yes to going out with him if you both made it out. You kissed him back then before the arms grabbed you and dragged you off. Where did the idea of you not liking him come from? It was you who was afraid he didn't like you back.
You wanted to speak, you wanted to say something but you were stuck in your own mind, desperately trying to fight this off, trying hard to calm your breathing. The most you could do was take your hand off of the curb and frantically grab his. You took his hand and you held it tight, trying to slow the sharp intakes of breath. That's when Spencer squeezed your hand and you began to feel better.
And when you did start to feel better and your breathing was still harsh, but better and you could finally move a little more, you did what you had wanted to do every day in the hospital. You leaned forward and wrapped your arms around Spencer, your arms resting around his shoulders. You needed it and apparently so did he, because he squeezed you back the same. Either it was that or he knew pressure helped. All you could do was hope it wasn't the latter.
Spencer of course buried his face in the crook of your neck like he had before and you knew now that this feeling was coming to an end. The tide was washing out and there was calm after the storm. No words, just your breathing becoming more natural and the wind over your ears. This was all that you needed.
He stayed like this with you for a good five more minutes before you could finally release him, pulling apart and your hand coming up to wipe under your eyes. He didn't speak then, either- he just watched, his face furrowed in concern.
So you spoke, "Spencer wh-" your voice cut out from still being in that state of anxiety. You coughed into your arm, tried again. "Why would you think I don't like you?"
"I-I- don't think that's the question, I- are you okay?" His hands went back to your shoulders bracingly.
You smiled a small smile, "I'm better, it's passed, but Spencer...' You slid into a whisper with the crying coming back. Had it really passed?
"Yes?" His reply was wary. As if afraid to break you, he tiptoed.
"Answer me, please."
He bit his lower lip into his mouth, sighing. "I don't know if I should, you're- you're upset."
You looked at him, dead-on, determined. "Please."
"You didn't call. Not once and I-I-I was worried and then I started to think about it and everything t-that happened before you were taken and that you probably only said and did that because you were about to-to-uh, die." He rambled, words spilling out. "So I thought maybe you didn't really like me and-"
"I was waiting for you to call, too," you actually let out a laugh. He smiled in realization. "Because I was afraid of the exact same thing. I was afraid you didn't mean it and I worked myself up- I called Friday night, though-"
"I didn't- I didn't know that-" he fumbled to bring his phone out of his pocket and he must have seen that he had a voicemail from you and nodded, a little smile appearing on his worried face. "So you did mean to say yes?"
"And you did mean to ask?" You inquired, head tilted.
"Y-yes, of course."
"Then yes," you replied, smile widening to a grin. "How is Saturday night? I think I'll be better by then."
He was positively beaming as he helped you back to your feet. "Saturday is... great. Are you sure you're alright?"
"Much better.... truthfully." You nodded excessively and Spencer began walking back to his car, but then came back quickly to kiss your cheek.
He was like a child excited to go run and tell friends, "Goodnight!"
"Night, Spence." You stood there, basking in the glory that was solved miscommunication. You weren't nobody, you were in fact, somebody. And you were soon to be Spencer's.
Tags: @ellyhotchner, @softhairedhotch, @laurakirsten0502
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meliaaizawa · 3 years ago
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HEAT OR HIZASHI
The Aizawas make a choice after their A/C breaks.
Word count: 1,689
*Meiya’s POV*
“Oh, good gosh!” I said as Shota and I entered our apartment. Summer season was now in full swing, meaning it was hot outside. Walking to and from school was rather uncomfortable, but we were always quickly relieved by the coolness of air conditioning. This evening, however, it felt just as hot in our apartment as it did outside. We shut the door behind us and Sho immediately went to the thermostat. “30 degrees,” he read out loud with a sigh. “The A/C broken?” I asked, fanning myself off with my hand. “I’ll check with the landlord,” Sho replied, taking out his phone.
I headed back to our bedroom and took off my hero costume, putting on a tank top and pair of shorts instead. I walked back out to the living room as Shota got off the phone. I looked at him with raised eyebrows, pulling my hair back and tying it into a bun. “They’re unsure when it’ll be fixed. Could be tomorrow, could be next week,” he answered my look. “Well let’s hope it’s tomorrow,” I replied before going to our closet to pull out our electric fans.
Shota also changed out of his hero costume into a pair of shorts and pulled his hair back into a messy bun. I set up the fans in the kitchen, facing them towards the kitchen table where we would be sitting for a while. I pulled some leftovers from the fridge, not bothering to heat them up, as the coolness of the rice and meat would be refreshing. I also got out some cold milk to pour into the cats’ bowls, which they were thankful for.
After we finished eating, Shota cleaned up all the dishes while I got all our paperwork from school. We continued to sit at the table and grade all the papers and tests that we had, even more silently than normal, as if speaking would waste what little energy we had left… the heat was so draining. By the time I finished my papers, I was ready for bed. Sho had more to grade, but I was normally in bed before him anyways. I organized my papers and got up from my seat. “Night,” I said, kissing his cheek and bringing one of the fans to the bedroom with me.
I took a cold shower, brushed my teeth, set up the fan, then laid on top of the blankets on the bed. I tossed and turned, trying to get comfortable, and finally managed to fall asleep. I don’t know how long I had been sleeping when I suddenly woke up with a hot flash. Sho was in bed next to me, and though he was on the edge of the opposite end, in my sleep I managed to scoot right next to him, causing him to drape an arm around me instinctively. Though this was how we usually slept, and though sleeping in his arms normally helped me sleep better, tonight it was unbearable.
I wriggled out from under his arm and sat up straight, causing him to stir awake as well. He looked at me for a moment before turning with a grunt so that he was laying on his side facing the fan that was pointed towards him. I scooted to the opposite end of the bed, sitting in front of the other fan, trying to cool off. I got up to get a sip of water, then unrolled our sleeping bag on the floor right beside our bed. I laid on top of that and managed to fall back into a restless sleep until the morning.
We followed our normal morning routine best we could, though we were both exhausted and hot. We finally felt relief when we walked through the doors of U.A. into the sweet, blessed A/C. We headed to the staff room and got situated at our desks. The A/C felt so good… almost too good… to the point that I felt my eyelids grow heavy as I sat at my desk. My head suddenly felt heavy as well, and it began to droop to the side, but was caught by Shota’s shoulder next to me.
“WAKEY WAKEY!!!!” I heard the loud voice of Hizashi say, causing me to open my eyes and look up at him. “Shota always looks dead to the world, but this is a new look for you, Mei!! Didja stay up too late last night partying?” he asked jokingly. I sat up straight and yawned. “You know me,” I said, rolling my eyes and stretching. “Our A/C is broken… and it’s hard getting a full night of sleep in the heat,” I explained, looking at my husband beside me, whose eyes were shut, and arms were crossed, sleeping while sitting straight up.
“You two are always welcome to crash at my bachelor pad!!” he offered. “Well, it may be fixed today, so we should be fine,” I replied with a shrug, knowing full well that Sho wouldn’t want to stay at our obnoxious friend’s apartment. I reached over and gently grabbed Shota’s shoulder. “It’s about time for class to start,” I said softly as he sleepily opened his eyes. “Mm,” he grunted with a nod of acknowledgement before stretching and getting his things ready for class.
That evening, Shota and I walked home as per normal, arriving at a once again hot apartment. “Still no A/C?” I said to myself as I approached the thermostat. “32 degrees… even hotter than last night,” I said, turning to Shota, who was taking off his scarf. “Should we go stay with Zashi?” I asked. He looked at me with a furrowed brow. “It’s not that hot,” he said unzipping his jumpsuit. Just as I expected, Sho wouldn’t want to stay at Zashi’s place… One of Shota’s most valued possessions was privacy, and we both knew we certainly wouldn’t be getting much of that at Hizashi’s place.
Neither of us had any papers to grade this evening, and honestly didn’t have much of an appetite, so after changing I sprawled myself out on the floor of the living room, hoping it would cool me off somehow. Kohi and Lotte both appeared from behind the couch and stretched themselves out on the floor near me, having the same idea of cooling off. Sho came down the hall, stopping at the end of it and looking at the state of the living room floor. I looked up at him and asked, “can we please just go to Hizashi’s?'' to which he responded with a long sigh.
“We have to pick our poison… Heat or Hizashi… I’d rather choose the one that won’t actually kill us,” I said. “So, the heat?” he said deadpan, though I knew he was teasing. I chuckled as he walked over to me and offered me his hand to help me stand up. I shot Hizashi a text that we were coming over, then went and packed an overnight bag for us. While Shota got the cats into their crate to bring them with us, I quickly made a call to the radio station that Hizashi worked for on weekends… the station manager owed me a favor. Once we had everything together, we left the heat of our apartment and entered the heat of the outdoors.
As we approached Hizashi’s apartment building, both our phones buzzed at the receiving of a group text from Hizashi. “Randomly got called in to do the overnight shift at the radio station, but I left the door unlocked, so make yourselves at home!!! See you at school!!!” Shota read the message aloud as we walked. He stuffed his phone back in his pocket and looked at me with an eyebrow raised, immediately having a feeling that I was behind it. “Well, isn’t that convenient?” I commented with a small chuckle, causing Sho to smirk at me.
We got to his apartment and let ourselves in, releasing the cats as we got inside. They had been there before, as Hizashi had watched them while we were away, but it had been a while since I had been there. As per his explanation, it was still very much a “bachelor pad” with a foosball table instead of a kitchen table, dirty dishes everywhere, a pile of unfolded laundry on the fold-out couch, and a mantle with photos of himself and an array of his radio show awards on display.
Shota stood in front of the mantle, looking at the display with a disgusted look on his face. “This is what my nightmares are made of,” he commented, shaking his head. I chuckled at his comment and then got a chill, causing my whole body to suddenly shake. “It’s so chilly in here… I’m gonna sleep so good tonight,” I said before yawning, as just mentioning sleep made me sleepy. “Ready for bed?” Shota asked, seeing how big my yawn was. “Mmhmm,” I replied sleepily, still tired from the lack of sleep the night before.
Shota reached into the bag he packed some stuff in and pulled out our two-person sleeping bag. I looked at him wide-eyed, wondering how he managed to fit it in the bag. He shrugged and commented, “I knew the couch would be inaccessible,” looking over at the messy couch. I smirked at him as he spread the sleeping bag out on an empty space on the living room floor and crawled inside it. He held it open for me, and I crawled in right next to him, helping him zip it up once I was inside.
The two cats finished their exploring and joined us in the living room, curling up on top of the sleeping bag. It was quite chilly in Hizashi’s apartment, so Shota wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close to him, as I was shivering slightly. I buried my face deeper into his chest, and he planted a kiss on my forehead before resting his scruffy chin on top of my head. It didn’t take long for me to fall into a deep and dreamless sleep, undisturbed by heat or Hizashi.
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dex-xe · 4 years ago
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if you’re still taking requests i’d love to see “Hey, look at me. Focus on me alright?” with alison and thomas cause u know that lil bitch gets panic attacks/meltdowns and i feel like alison’d be hella good at talking him thru em
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Thomas, Alison, Pat & the Captain General #23: “Hey, look at me. Focus on me alright?”
(So this is a fic for these three, I couldn’t decide who to write so here’s all three of them trying to deal with an upset Thomas. Also,, for some reason these are getting no interaction on ao3, yes they’re on there as well, so if anyone wants to go check out some of my stuff on there pls do @/littlemouseinapartyhat :))) Also I know all the fics so far have focussed on a select few characters but the next one will be the Button House women on a sleepover,, spoiler alert Fanny joins in and has fun :P)
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Far too many times, Pat and the Captain had discovered Thomas buried to his eyes in the murky green water of the lake. It was hardly a surprise to either when Thomas had bolted from the house and dove into the water with the arrival of a new Lord Byron with film crew in tow. As soon as his overwhelming emotional meltdown had begun, Pat and the Captain had shared one single glance across the film set, a knowing glance of full understanding of what they must do later. Their usual nightly patrol was punctuated by a detour to the lake where they, like usual, would sit on the grassy bank beside the water for two hours persuading Thomas to come inside. They’d eventually peacefully appease him and watch as Thomas took the long and silent walk back to the house where he’d dramatically flop into his bed - and remain there for days on end. Pat waited until the Captain had finished gawking after Adam to catch his arm and drag him swiftly towards the lake. They stood on the shoreline watching Thomas huff and puff in the dark water, running his fingers repeatedly through his soft curly hair. “So what do we do exactly?” Someone asked. Unaware they had been followed, both men spun around to find Alison behind them, hands on hips gazing out at Thomas. Pat turned back to face the lake, stepping up the algae ridden waterline. “Thomas!” He called. “Thomas! Are you alright?” Thomas didn’t respond. Instead ducking further below the surface to drop his nose under the water too. “Listen, Thorne!” The Captain shouted out to him. “It’s getting dark, you must come inside at once.” “Does he listen?” Alison asked. “Eventually,” the Captain sighed. “You might care to take a seat, Alison. He can take a little while, whiny child.” Alison perched on the edge of the bank, picking at the grass as she rested her chin on her knees, ready to watch whatever Pat and the Captain had planned for the poet. “Thomas, do you want to talk about it?” Pat shouted. “I get you’re upset, mate. But come out and we can have a chat, yeah? What’s wrong?” Thomas stayed silent, staring blankly back as if not a single thought was running through his mind. “I know you don’t feel well, and I won’t pretend to know what’s happening in that little brain of yours but talking it out will make you feel a thousand times better, I promise,” Pat told him. “Now listen here, Thomas. I demand you listen to Patrick and vacate the water with haste,” the Captain yelled towards him. “The film crew’s left, Tom, nothing left here to worry about,” Pat said. “You can come inside and calm down a touch, yeah? Letting it all out will do you the world of good.” “The sun is setting, Thorne. Whatever this silliness is, you had better push it down deep and come inside!” “Captain, that’s not exactly the best advice at the moment,” Pat told the Captain covering his frustration with a small chuckle. “We’re here to fetch him from the water, not provide a therapy session.” Pat turned fully towards the Captain and held his hands out to try and placate him, hoping he wouldn’t resort to his idea of talking never helping - as he had insisted with Fanny only weeks earlier. “If we find out what is troubling him, we can get him out.” “But-“ Alison stood up abruptly and stepped between the two of them. “Okay, well you guys aren’t helping him in the slightest,” she said. “What? I’m helping?” They said simultaneously, snapping to face each other and shoot incredulous looks. “You’re not doing anything!” “Okay, my turn,” Alison returned to watching Thomas’ morose face above the water. She took her phone from her back pocket and dropped it onto the bank before pulling off her heavy green jumper. She stepped into the lake, muddy water splashing about her ankles and coating the cuffs of her jeans. She sighed at the thought of slaving over laundry the next morning to recover her best jeans. “What the bally hell are you doing?” The Captain questioned. “You can’t seriously be going out there?” Pat said. “Fetch Mike if I start to drown, hey?” She said before wading deeper into the water. She was pleasantly surprised that she could keep her feet planted firmly on the silty bottom of the lake as the freezing winter water pooled around her legs, then hips, all the way up to her shoulders, and to the point where she had to push up onto her tiptoes to keep her head above the surface. Reaching Thomas within a matter of moments, Alison stopped in front of him and dropped ever so slightly so she was eye to eye with him. “Thomas,” she said quietly. “Hey, look at me. Focus on me, alright?” She reached a dripping hand from out of the water and reached as if to cup his cheek, hovering millimetres away. “Can you hear me, Thomas?” Thomas nodded jerkily, trying not to break his eye contact with Alison. “Good, you don’t need people shouting advice at you from the shoreline. You need someone to bring you back down, don’t you?” He nodded again. “You’re floating, aren’t you? Well above the lake and you feel like you can’t come down because everything that’s happening in that head is keeping you up. I’m right, aren’t I?” “Yes,” his voice cracked. “I’ve been there, Thomas,” Alison confessed quietly. “I’ve felt that: where you desperately need someone to catch hold of your leg and just pull you back down. It’s a panic attack, Thomas, or something similar; I’m not sure but it’s nothing to be afraid of. I just need you to focus on me, yeah? And the water. The water? The water! It makes you feel sick, doesn’t it? Can you feel it, can you feel that nauseous feeling like when you touch someone living? It’s there, isn’t it?” A thought overtook Alison, a simple but risky idea. It could bring Thomas straight back to reality, or it could make him feel a thousand times worse. Her hand stayed in position close to Thomas’ face, as she flicked her attention to it slightly. Leaning forward, her hand pressed into his cold form fading through his skin momentarily. Thomas took a deep breath, he had no need to but the overwhelming emotion had stopped his breaths for so very long. “Can you feel it? Does it make you feel, Thomas?” She whispered, trying hard to keep her balance on the lake bed and not fall straight through Thomas. “Fair Alison,” Thomas whispered. “I- I feel sick.” “Good, it’s called ‘grounding’. Using the things around you to bring you back to reality. I’m right here with you, so use my touch, my voice,” Alison said calmly. She couldn’t help but think about the first anxiety attack she’d ever experienced. Year eleven, minutes before a presentation on igneous rocks - Mike had been the one to sit on the corridor floor with her and coach her through it, using the very same techniques she was employing for Thomas. “When there are people in the house, people who work to mock me, it is as if every noise, every colour, every person is simply too vibrant,” he whispered, barely audible to Alison. “It is as if every bone in my body is being accosted by the senses, too many senses.” “I know, I know,” Alison muttered. “I know, Thomas. But you mustn’t drown yourself in the lake! This doesn’t feel particularly pleasant for me, let alone the undead. So, don’t drown yourself, please. One of the best things about my near-death and questionable spiritual abilities is that I can help you.” “None of the others understand this horrific feeling,” Thomas said. “Patrick and the Captain, they do their best. But Captain is rather harsh and Pat insists on talking nonsense and then trying to hug me. I do not feel I need that.” “Then come to me, Thomas,” Alison urged. “Don’t drown yourself, what kind of a solution is that? Find me and we’ll talk.” “I do not wish to disturb when you are-,” Thomas started. “No, you’re not a disturbance. If you need me, I’ll be there.” Thomas nodded gently, trying not to put pressure on the cold spot where Alison was touching his face. “Now, I’m freezing to death out here, and I’m fairly sure there’s a fish in my jeans. Let’s go inside, you can choose a film, yeah?” “Yes please.” The light had dropped quickly, the orangey grey light of the evening had been replaced by darkness. They began the trudge back to the shore where Pat and the Captain were sat side by side on the bank, trying slightly too hard to seem nonchalant a hide their eavesdropping. Pat jumped up as he realised they were coming back, and the Captain uncrossed his legs to stand beside him. “Fantastic work, Alison!” Pat said, reaching out to take Thomas by the arm. He cowered away slightly, only to be guided slowly forward by Alison; more herding him than actually touching his waistcoat. Pat retreated holding his hands up in surrender. “That’s probably a record!” “Whatever did you say to get him away so quickly?” The Captain asked. “Stop being so nosy,” Alison chuckled, ringing the water out of her dark hair. “Thank you for your help, Pat, Cap. But just leave him be for a little while, okay? Come on, back in with you,” she said turning to Thomas. “I could do with a hot shower and some clothes that don’t contain ten gallons of pond water and an aquarium of creatures. Will you be okay sitting with the others for a bit while I get changed, Thomas?” Thomas contemplated and then nodded once at her beginning the long walk to the safety of the house. He was still away with the fairies, still flying high above the lake waiting for his feet to return to solid ground. But concentrating very hard, focusing on Alison in front of him - her voice and her touch, he could almost feel the very tips of his toes skimming the waterline. 
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aloesarchives · 4 years ago
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Gaolang Headcanons
(A/N):Sorry this took so long, I recently had a writer's block that made me really unmotivated to write. Another reason that it took so long was because I made the reader have a background that would’ve made it oc like, which I usually tend to stay away from. But after so pep talk with a friend and remembering this is my blog, I decided to say fuck it and write to self-indulge in my writing more and write this headcanon(what I mean is appearance is up to you but things like job occupation would be up to me. And also literally after eating ice cream, the thought of writing came back and here I am. Plus, who wouldn’t dream of being able to fight(doesn’t mean fighter) and kick ass in the Kengan series? If you said no, you lying.
(Edit July 1 2020 2:44am: Okay so Tumblr glitched again where my posts having been showing up on me blog and just disappeared from the search so I had to repost them again, I apologize for any inconveniences)
Word count:4257 words
But now, what many of you have been waiting for,
The Man, the myth, the legend himself,
Gaolang Fucking Daddy Wongsawat
I’ma write so much for this man you have no idea
Let’s gets two things out of the way first about this absolute unit of a man right here: Gaolang Wongsawat
First things first, Gaolang is literally a man of few words. He’s not mute, of course, it’s just he’s more of a man that speaks when spoken to. However, it doesn’t mean you start and carry every conversation the two of you have. Gaolang is always listening to you when you speak even though he’s not looking at you. He just gives you a short reply or answer when you ask him certain things, not a a tired or agitated response but more of them not pushing an agenda into the conversation unless needed so.
But when it’s just the two of you and a silent falls in between, it’s unsurprisingly serene and pleasant. Like the silence and energy that Gaolang gives off doesn’t make you uncomfortable or awkward, which is ideal when you both don’t want to talk because you’re either tired and lean on Gaolang, or when words aren’t needed in the moment and you silently enjoy each other company. He’s one of the few people to be able to not talk much and make the air not feel unbearable.
Second, Gaolang is a man of honor. With his status in Thailand and being the bodyguard of King Rama XII, Gaolang doesn’t use his status to prey on others/ those who are weaker than him. He deems that as cowardice and dishonorable so he doesn’t really want to cause trouble for King Rama and you.
Now with that out of the way, let’s got on it with this man, shall we?
TBH, you could’ve met Gaolang anywhere so it’s up in the air how you guys met.
The apartment is always clean and nice since Gaolang cleans up the place once or twice a week. You do you part around the house, of course, to keep it clean when Gaolang isn’t home, especially when he’s out for his boxing matches and championships for heavyweight. But Gaolang has a particular way of keeping the apartment clean and gets kinda of passive aggressive when something isn’t cleaned properly.
You two mostly split doing the chores in the house, like you vacuum and he does the dishes for the week and it would switch every other week. The only chore Gaolang just leaves solely up to you is the laundry. This is due to him not wanting to mess up any of your clothing when he’s washing them so you do both of your guys’s laundry. Plus, Gaolang doesn’t have that much of a diverse closet so washing his clothes isn’t much of a hassle.
Cooking wise, you mostly leave it up to Gaolang b/c face it, Gaolang is the better cook between the two of you, no offense mate. But Gaolang’s cooking smacks so hard you don’t eat out/get takeout anymore unless you’re craving some of that Thailand street food, which he doesn’t mind as long as it’s not frequent. But fam, why go out when Gaolang’s cooking is so good?
Domestic life with Gaolang is honestly lovely, holy shit. Like it’s pure bliss and wonderful. Usually it goes like this:
Every morning, Gaolang usually wakes up earlier than you which you don’t mind. He gets dress but doesn’t put on his dress shirt on until he has to leave for work. While you get ready for the day and freshen up, he already made coffee(if you drink it) and is cooking breakfast. When you’re done and walk out of the bed room, you already greet him good morning where you either hug him from behind or give him a good morning kiss( but the second one is always your go to). The tv is on in the background and you sip your drink as you watch what’s currently on. Gaolang calls out saying breakfast is ready and you two eat at the table. Once down, dishes are put into the sink and after a few minutes, Gaolang has to leave for work. He puts on his dress shirt, grabs his blazer, and while he’s tying his tie you’re at the door to bid him a good day at work. Once he’s finish and has put on his shoes on, you wish him a good day along with a kiss as you wave him off. Once you hear the door click, you knew it would be awhile until he comes back home. Your job allows you do work at home so you’re always in the apartment. Once done, you would clean the place, do the laundry, run a couple of errands, or relax. For lunch you have leftovers that Gaolang cooked the day before in the fridge. Afterwards, you do stuff to let the time pass whether it be productive or not. You know Gaolang is home by the clicking of the door and his voice saying “I’m home”. You give him a welcome back kiss and asked him about his day while holding onto his blazer to be later stemmed. He just said it was normal and nothing of the sort. However, there was one time he told you  fought someone who tried to claim he’s spot as his majesty’s bodyguard but by the look of things you can assume Gaolang won. While you put away his blazer, he ask you about your day which you reply with the usual that you say. Right away, you and Gaolang start making dinner for the evening. Gaolang is at the stove while you cut up the meat and vegetables and handing it to them when you’re done. Washing your hands, you set up the table and waited until he was done. Dinner mostly has minimal talking because it’s eating time but Gaolang will answer you if you ask him something. The aftermath of dinner is mostly compromise of cleaning the dishes, the table, counter tops, and putting away the left overs in the fridge. Then it’s off to the bedroom where the two of you get ready for bed. You always let Gaolang go first into the bathroom to do what need to do since he’s quick. Once done with both of your nightly routines, you two head off for bed. You always give him a good night kiss before sleeping and Gaolang has an arm around you as the two of you sleep.
There are very few times where you wake up first: when he gets the day off, just got back to Thailand from weeks abroad for championships and matches, or from a hefty training session. However, this is mostly uncommon to happen as Gaolang is a early bird.
Sleepwise, Gaolang doesn’t really snore. He’s a quiet sleeper, however, he leans in more of moderate- lighter sleeper where heavy stirring and noise can bring him out of sleep. But it does take some minimal effort to wake him up. Gaolang is the type of person to face away you the two of you would fall asleep but when you wake up his body is facing you and his arms are caging you in. I can see him also being the type of spouse to carry you into your bed if you fell asleep on the couch or while working, Gaolang is more than welcome to carry off to bed, hell he’ll tuck you in and give you a forehead kiss.
This man will HOLD you in your sleep, fucking on cloud 9, sis. And you never felt more safe and comfortable in your life.
Gaolang doesn’t talk a lot when eating, but again he won’t shy away when you’re talking/asking him something.
Straight up, Gaolang loves to watch those soap operas/Asian dramas, it’s sort of his guilty pleasure. When you found out about it, you didn’t really judge him for it because you actually liked the series he was watching. He was a little bit anxious when you didn’t say anything but relaxed when the only words you said to him was “Gao, scoot over this is getting interesting.” Like he’s motionless and his face barely contorts when the plot begins to thicken but you can tell he is enjoying the show.
It would be untrue if you didn’t at least have some encounter with Saw Paing. God, I can imagine as soon Gaolang leaves for work and you have the apartment to yourself, then the next thing you know there’s a Burmese man in his 30′s outside of your window and he’s screaming at the top of his lungs what seem to be your beloved names. Two thoughts are running through your head as you’re just staring on at this man: #1- Who the hell is this man and how does he know Gaolang? and #2- How in the hell was he able to climb up to you and Gaolang’s high rise apartment? After you let him in through one of your windows, the man was quite surprise because he hasn’t seen you before, or more rather in the apartment. He asked you who were you, when you said you’re Gaolang’s wife, he was shock and kind of ecstatic to know that Gaolang has gotten himself a spouse. The first thing you took note was his loud and constant yelling; however, when you’re talking to him in the apartment, he dies down his voice and doesn’t yell. He somehow manages to leave the apartment and miss Gaolang arrival from work. And when Gaolang comes home and asked about your day, he’s slightly intrigued when you said you made a new friend. As soon as you mention Saw Paing, you see Gaolang’s face slightly grimace as he let out an annoyed sigh. He apologizes for his behavior and for you not to say sorry for causing it. After he explains his history with Saw Paing, you now understand his reaction. Gaolang is kind of happy for you to be friends with Saw Paing because at least Saw Paing gets to hang out with you and not bother him whiles he’s trying to live his life with you. Surprisingly, when you became friends with Saw Paing, he won’t barge into your guys’s apartment or yell anymore, most of the time that is. But it’s all good with Saw Paing being and Gaolang doesn’t mind as long as he is minimal involvement in it.
Saw Paing is your buddy, fam. It’s bound to happen.
You do fight but it’s more on the side and a hobby you do. Unlike Gaolang, who does this as a profession, you do this as more for fitness and self defense. You’re not as powerful as Gaolang, but you can handle yourself enough where Gaolang doesn’t have to worry about you going out without him. The two of you spar and train together when given the time but during the small sparring Gaolang goes easy on you because he doesn’t want to hurt you.
King Rama every now and then would ask Gaolang about you. Rama is pretty much Gucci with Gaolang so it doesn’t really bug him. King Rama is one of the few people that knew about you being with Gaolang, so yeah. He was intrigued by the fact that Gaolang subtle mentions you the first time he asked him. Over time, Rama listen to his royal subject and bodyguard as Gaolang talks about you, he just wants Gaolang to spill the tea. Although it’s very hard for many people notice, King Rama notice a slight soften in Gaolang during those moments. The fact that you were able to make a dent in the stoic Thai God of War was more than enough for Rama to have a reason to meet you. He was curious on who you were to able to do that to Gaolang. Then queue the day you were invited by the King of Thailand himself to have a simple small meeting. You had no idea why the King wanted audience with you, but you knew you had to go b/c it would be rude if you didn’t.  You told Gaolang that you had to leave early to go somewhere and he thought nothing of it. You also didn’t tell Gaolang about it cause you assumed he knew about it. For some reason, King Rama keep things simple and asked you to walk around the palace’s garden, contrasting his extravagant behavior. Being the charismatic person he is, you’re not intimidated by him and answer his questions truthfully. After listening to your replies and responses, especially ones about Gaolang, he now understands why Gaolang took interest to you, you’re unique in the sense that you’re a blue diamond. Matchless, rare, and unlike any other, not in the way you shiny above everyone since you blended into the crowd, but once they have stumble upon and get to know you there’s no turning back from there. Just the imagine the shock on Gaolang’s face when he gets to work and sees you talking to his majesty. He was curious and a bit scared that you were talking to Rama but after a short exchange of laughter it disappeared. After you spotted Gaolang and the two of you walked towards him, Rama stated the two of you had a little chat and that you were heading on your way. Once Gaolang responded with a head nod, you bow to the King and wave bye to Gaolang as you go for the rest of the day. Soon as you’re out of sight, King Rama comments to Gaolang that you’re a hidden gem and told him to take good care of you. And Gaolang being Gaolang, smiles and fulfills his duties given by his king.
King Rama, low key, wants Gaolang to settle down because, I’m gonna be honest, he deserves it. Like Rama is vigile and gives Gaolang days off so he can spend time with you, this includes when Gaolang has boxing matches and championships too. He just wants Gaolang to slow down in life and spends his life with you without stress or worry.
King Rama implicitly ships you and Gaolang but you didn't hear it from me.
You definitely have run into King Rama during Gaolang’s boxing matches. Speaking of which, you always watch his matches. Whether it be at home or in the actually stadium. you make sure you were watching every single one of his fights. It’s enthralling to watch him fight, like his infamous Flash of 13 jabs is something that never cease to amaze you. Having won 4 heavyweight championship, you’ve never really doubted him and his abilities one bit. During one of his championship, King Rama was actually present and invited you to join him in the VIP lounge to watch Gaolang. The fight was intense but Gaolang came out victorious and won with a knock out. It was one of the most amazing things you have every seen as the crowd roared at the win and King Rama allowed Gaolang to take a 5 day rest as his fruitful victory.
There are times where you’re either at the entrance of the ring or inside the locker room to wish him luck. The most he’ll accept is a hug and a kiss on the cheek, that’s it. But he does flash you a smile before going out there.
Without a doubt, Gaolang is a very private person, except to you of course. Like Gaolang doesn’t reveal much of his home life to the public to keep the paparazzi away. He likes to keep the his work life and home life extremely separate. Your relationship with him and even your own existence is unknown to the public, THAT’S how private Gaolang is. And a little bit of help from King Rama as well.
Gaolang is not much of a confrontation man, but will confront and be straightforward with you when something is wrong with/bothering you.
He’s also is an observant person, you could tell by the way he analyzes opponents so he at least can read you and situations at home.
Due to this, he is very good a giving compliments. Not the super cheesy one, it’s usually the simple ones, and those are the one that get you all the time.
He has a chill personality, calm and collected, he’s not the type to jump the gun on assumptions. The man trusts you, fam.
It’s really hard to make Gaolang mad. He gets annoyed and aggravated, yeah, but it’ll never escalates to him being furious. Gaolang knows how to manage his emotions and has never really been irrational or lashed out before. The only time you ever saw Gaolang lose his composure was when he yelled at Saw Paing. And that moment, right there, was terrifying to you because you never seen Gaolang lash out before. So you do your best to not push his buttons too much.
Gaolang lets you do your own thing because he understands that you have your own life and do things on your own accord. Not much of a controlling person, far from you. But Gaolang doesn’t understand why you have a job when he makes a reasonable salary for the both of you to live off on. When you told him that you wanted to contribute to society and not rely on him for everything, and you also said you like to have save pocket money. Gaolang respects your answer and kinda likes that you take accountability for yourself.
Jealousy is something that Gaolang knows about and doesn’t really feel, but more rather avoid. Gaolang is comfortable in his own skin and abilities to know that you will not betray him and leave him for someone else. And it’s obvious when you’re not interested in anyone other than Gaolang and tell people off when they hit on you. But what really aggravates him is when the person can’t take a goddamn hint when you tell them off or deny any of their advances on you. Especially if it’s a scumbag of a guy. But Gaolang can’t be irrational due to him having a public image to uphold so he has to logical and clear minded. So Gaolang rational annoyance is rising in level, like his stare goes hard, his aura becomes daunting, anyone who’s near him fear like they would shit in their pants if they ever had to face Gaolang in such a state. You kept telling the guy that your husband/boyfriend wouldn’t be happy if he keep up his behavior with you. Then the man mocks about your lover and asks who is the lucky guy. Then queue my man Gaolang standing behind him and saying it was him and Gaolang was with you. After commenting that Gaolang was your boyfriend/lover, you were humored by the guy’s reaction. The man went pale, apologized to the Thai God of War and was out of sight from then. I don’t know who said it, but I think it was @bokutosbiceps​ (follow them, they have really good Kengan writing pieces.) that Gaolang goes into a state of grumpiness, which I can totally see. He be like this for what, like a week at max, and this is where everyone just stands clear of Gaolang and try to not get on his bad side. Like even Saw Paing doesn’t come over when he encountered Gaolang’s grumpiness, it’s that bad. Again, he knows that you won’t really leave him because he trust you won’t be that disloyal to him. But the only way to pull him out of that slump is excessive amount of words of affirmation from you and a simple promise that you’ll never leave him. But even after pulling him out of his grumpy pants state, Gaolang acts more of a bodyguard just in case a similar case happens again. If the person/people/guy tries their luck with you then it’s over for them and they will really die, literally Gaolang goes into Thai God of War mode and it ain’t pretty. But overtime, when incidents happen like that, his reaction is less elevated every time due to your unwavering loyalty to him. Jealousy is not foreign feeling to Gaolang but he tends to stay away from it as much as possible.
Seriously, imagine leaving Gaolang for someone else. Sis/fam not only are you a damn circus act, that’s a literal downgrade on so many levels. Like why? I’ll personally find you, smack your forehead, and lecture you why that was a bad move.
I mean, everyone does stay clear on bothering you in general. But after that incident where Gaolang reveal your relationship with him, then people really know to actually stay on your good side. You don’t use Gaolang’s status to abuse power, of course, to get your way with things. But you do make it clear that you’re with/married to him.
However, it’s safe to say that no one messes with you when your boyfriend/husband is literally the best Muay Thai fighter, undisputed heavyweight boxing champion, and bodyguard of the King of Thailand. They’re about of clowns that really want to be humiliated. I’ll also beat them up for you fam, i gotchu
One flaw Gaolang probably has is him having basic logic/common sense but he can be easily swayed and convinced on things he doesn’t have prior knowledge on. The man’s open up to new things, it’s more of him acting like a dumbass for a bit.
God, the horror of seeing Gaolang with wrong Japanese etiquette hurts your eyes and soul. You had to reteach him a lot on these types of things. He’s a little bit embarrassed but grateful that you’re have enough patience to teach him the proper etiquette.
POWER COUPLE OF THAILAND, I’LL FIGHT ANYONE THAT DISAGREES WITH ME. YOU DESERVE TO BE WITH THIS MAN, THAT’S FINAL.
I’ma tell you something sis so you better open them ears: Gaolang isn’t the type to have multiple flings or be in many relationship. He has better things to do with his time than waste on short term infatuation. So if he chooses you, that’s speaking VOLUMES.
In other words, if you’re the one, YOU ARE THE ONE! Like Gaolang could’ve been a playboy and have anyone in the world but the man chose you. YOU’RE THE FUCKING CHOSEN ONE!!!!
Gaolang is not one to push things but he does have conversations with you that marriage and kids can be apart of the equation if you want.
Besides, who wouldn’t marry a man like Gaolang? You be missing out on so much.
Time with Gaolang is always productive no matter what since he knows how to use his time efficiently. You two go to the grocery store together and sometimes you divide and conquer in the store to save time. Being with Gaolang helps you manage your time effectively which helps you a lot.
Bruh, Gaolang’s hair is SOFT. You play with it when the two of you are laying down together and you can tell that he takes good care of his hair. Gaolang lets you do his hair, combing through it and add the bead at the end of his hair. He likes it when you do it.
I like to headcanon that the jewel on his forehead was a gift you gave him and every since you gave it to him he’s been wearing all day everyday.
Gaolang’s kisses are like angel feathers. They’re light and pure. He doesn’t really have any ulterior motive other than missing you on some work days. These are *chef kiss some of the most bless things you’ll ever have.
His hugs, fucking god send. Firm where you’re flush against him but not too tight. Gaolang’s hugs were just right. Those things make you feel safe, and all warm on the inside. There are some days where work is slow, where Gaolang just comes home and holds you in his arms while swaying back and forth. It helps him wine down and relax, transitioning into his home life with you. But hey, free hugs from Gaolang.
Another thing we need to talk about is his smile. I...god... seeing Gaolang smile is when you’ve achieved paradise. You do note that Gaolang doesn’t really smile that often. But if you ask him the right things, have a way with words and play your cards correctly, you can get him to smile and hell even a small chuckle out of him. And there’s no denying that you get butterflies in your stomach and feel warm, fuzzy, and so many positive emotions that you got to witness Gaolang smile.
His smile kills you, heart squeezes
Y’ALL can’t tell me that Gaolang’s smile right here gave you goose bumps or a shiver up your back. If you deny it, you’re lying to yourself, fam.
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The man is CANONICALLY husband material, which mean the high possibility of him being a family man.
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Literally best Husband, CHANGE MY MIND, I DARE YOU.
Gaolang is super soft to you, he is soft spoken to you, smiles more often around you, became more emotionally open, etc. He really does love and care about you, like a lot.
He is stoic teddy bear for you.
Thai Jesus, Done with everyone’s shit except yours and King Rama.
The most cursed images you have ever seen is that signature shocked express he has, it’s something you never really want ever.
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Just living a good, satisfying, and tranquil life with Gaolang. A wholesome man of honor and loyalty, being with Gaolang is a goddamn dream you never want to wake up on.
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God this took way too long. Sorry for being gone for some time, I hit a writer’s block but it’s gone now. I finished on June 30th but stayed up until 12am to edit it. I’ma switch up the order and do Cosmo’s headcanon next. I’ll put the Gaolang oneshot on hold and actually finish my Chapter 2 for my series. This is my longest headcanon yet, and I’m tired.
Stay safe and beautiful, fam!
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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years ago
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Survey #407
“sugar pop, sugar pop, baby here i come, straight to #1″
Do you follow any special diet? (dairy free, vegetarian, gluten free etc.) No. What’s your favourite summer activity? Swimming is all I really enjoy about summer. Who was the first person to break your heart? It wasn't in a romantic sense obviously, but my dad. First band you obsessed about? I've only ever *truly* been obsessed with Ozzy Osbourne as a band, haha. First place someone took you on a date? I want to say a local skating rink. It was a group thing. How many doors are in the room you’re in? Two, if you include the closet door. Has anyone ever drawn a picture of you? Yes. Do you have any nieces or nephews? Quite a few. Which movie villain do you find the most terrifying? Well, if you've seen the scene where Pyramid Head literally rips a woman's skin off like a sheet in Silent Hill... u kno. I genuinely do find him to be a terrifying monster though, all bias aside. Humanoid monsters with ambiguous faces unsettle me. I wouldn't want that knife swingin at me, either. Do you get grumpy when you’re hungry? Yuuuup, I sure can. Do you stick your tongue out often in pictures? I have done that maybe twice in my whole life. Which one of your family members are you closest to? My mom. If chocolate was an illegal drug - would you be a drug addict? Nah. I'd be able to survive if it was illegal, but it would suck. Are you proud of your parents? Yes in some areas, no in some others. There are things both have said and/or done that I can't say I'm proud of them for, but overall, I am. Do you say “soda” or “pop”? "Soda." Are you shy about singing in front of people? YUP. I just don't do it. If you could get backstage tickets to ANY concert - which would you pick? Ozzy. :') It'd be fantastic to tell him thank you for his music that has always brought me joy and comforted me, and also let him know for sure just how strong he is and that it is absolutely not overlooked to still be nailing out an album while fighting Parkinson's. I'd probably start blubbering like a baby while rambling at some point, haha. Which is better: orange or grape soda? Orange. I don't like grape soda. Do you sleep with a sleep mask? Well, you could sort of call it that, ha ha. I have to wear an APAP mask to subdue my sleep apnea that causes wild nightmares/terrors. Do you like techno music? It's actually grown on me the past few months. Have you ever been drunk? No, I've never quite reached that point. I've only been tipsy. Are you mad at your best friend right now? Nope, got no reason to be. Do you know anybody with a pet snake? Yes, including myself. Is there any drink that you absolutely MUST drink cold? WATER. ABSOLUTELY WATER. I canNOOOOOOT do room temperature water anymore. It's gotta be pretty damn cold for me to drink it like it's nothin'. Have you ever painted anybody's nails aside from your own? No. Do you ever donate to the less fortunate? Mom likes to donate our old clothes and stuffed animals. Did you buy an American flag after 9/11 to put on your car/house/ whatever? I was a little kid when this happened, so. I don't know if my parents did. Honestly, do you have any Hilary Duff on your MP3 player? HA, I do. I love "Who's That Girl." When was the last time you had an ice cream sandwich? Wow, probably years... I really, really want one now, ha ha. Have you ever caught a friend cheating on their bf/gf? Well, my sister's friend, anyway. I was just sitting on the computer in the living room and there they were on the couch just casually making out. Do you enjoy doing math? Fuuuuck no. Do you think your mom has secrets she’s never told you? Oh, I know she does. There are things she's done that I know I have plenty of missing details from, but I don't ask because I know they're sensitive subjects. Do you own anything you don’t want your parents to know about? No. Do you pose in your pictures or just smile? I usually just smile. Do you use scented soap in the shower? Yes. It smells like cinnamon rolls and it is HEAVENLY. Did you ever want to be a fashion designer? No. Who was the last person you danced with? Enjoyable? Ha, Sara. Yeah. Dark or light colored jeans? Dark, 100%. I never wore light jeans. Can you take apart a computer and name all the parts? No sir. Can you take apart a car and name all the parts? That's an even bigger "no." Have you ever purchased a lotto ticket? No. What is the longest amount of time you've spent playing Monopoly? Idk. Have you ever witnessed a tornado first-hand? Thank fucking Christ I haven't. I am terrified of them. Have you ever colored your eyebrows? No. Have you ever taken another person's prescribed medication? Pain medicine, yes. Have you ever played golf (not miniature golf)? No. I'm not interested to, either. Have you ever gotten dressed with the windows open? I definitely don't believe so. Have you ever taken a shower outside? At the beach, yes. If you could call it a "shower." Have you ever been to a junkyard? No. Have you ever watched the History Channel willingly? No. If you could get the cell phone of your choice - what would it be? Probably a current iPhone. Apple is such a rip-off, but damn is the camera good lmao. Do you hand out candy to kids on Halloween? This will be my first Halloween in this house, so I really don't know if trick-or-treaters happen here. Do you like huskies? Love 'em, but I could neeeever own one with all that fur. What do you smell like? I'm always self-conscious over if I smell like sweat because of my hyperhidrosis. I hope not. Do you take your dog for walks? I don't have a dog. I used to take Teddy when he was younger, though. He loved those, but I stopped when I noticed his arthritis kicking in. Have you ever went paintballing? No. Seems stupid to me, honestly... Like that shit seems painful, so like, why??? What kind of movies are you drawn to? Horror and fantasy, mostly. I don't watch movies often. How often do you update your Facebook status? Just about never because I either just have nothing to say or am afraid of saying something stupid. I only ever share posts or pictures that appeal to me. What type of pet would you like to have? A Brazilian Black tarantula. :( I will whine about that until the day I get one, ha ha. I would also really, really like a plains hognose and a woma python. What breakfast are you most likely to have? Cereal. When you're starting to feel sick, you: It depends on what kind of "sick," but odds are I'm heading for the medicine cabinet. What colors are you most drawn to? Pastel ones. :') Light and pretty. What deadly sin are you most likely to commit? Sloth. When you're away from home, what makes you feel at home? "Having my stuff with me, like my laptop." <<<< Same. Do you prefer to lounge in a hot tub or swim in a pool? Swim. How many books do you have out in the public areas of your house? None. Who makes a better burger, in your opinion? Sonic. @_@ What do you like best about the holidays? Seeing my niece and nephew so excited. You think your eyes convey: Boredom, probably. Besides screaming for ice cream, what else do you scream for? If a bug surprises me by being on me. Well, depending on the bug. Do you like fried chicken? Noooo, it is so gross to me. What do you think of belly button piercings? They are SO cute imo. I want one, but I think it would look hideous on me. Maybe if I was actually thinner. Not saying bigger people can't wear belly button piercings, I just don't think it would look good on me. Do you like plain Lays potato chips? They're my favorite! I especially like the ruffled kind. Is there a big screen television in your house? In the living room, yeah. Would you rather no heat in winter or no A.C in summer? No heat in the winter, EASILY. I can't handle no A/C when it's hot. At least if you're cold, you can bundle up with tons of blankets. Have you ever had braces? I did for a long time because we couldn't afford to take them off. Do you do your own laundry? No, honestly. Mom likes to just do it all together, so I let her do it. Which do you prefer: English, Irish, or Australian accents? Irish. Is there anything on your bedroom door? Yeah! I got a "Meerkat Lover St." sign for my door. :') What is the best vegetable? Broccoli. Guys in eyeliner: Hot or not? That shit is h o t. Have you ever seen your favorite band live? No. :( Do you drink water or soda more often? Ugh, soda. Did you collect Pokemon cards back in the day? I didn't deliberately, but only because I was awkward about asking for Pokemon stuff because I thought people thought I was weird for being a girl and being obsessed with it. I think I got one pack. I really, really wish I'd been less self-conscious about that passion. Pet turtle: yay or nay? I'm personally not interested. Did anyone famous come from your town/city/school? Yeah, but I'm not sharing who. Have you ever seen a celebrity on the street? No. Have you ever pretended to be sick? To avoid school sometimes, yes. Can you ice skate? Never tried, too scared to. The blades terrify me. Do you have your nose pierced? No, but I want to have it redone. Do you loooove Tim Burton movies? I sure do! What arcade games do you like to play? I haven't been to an arcade in forever... but I liked the racing ones. What's the most expensive gift you've ever gotten for someone else? I'm not sure. Would you rather spend a whole day with your mom, or your dad? At this moment, probably my dad. We haven't hung out in a long time. What would you say if you found out your last ex was in a relationship? I'd be happy for her and tell her she'd better let me know if the person ever fucks up so I can kick some ass, ha ha. Are you easily confused? Very. I'm slow to understand things. Where was your MySpace/Facebook default taken? My bedroom. Can you whistle with your fingers in your mouth? No. I've never understood how that works. Do you like peanut butter? Love it.
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strawberrysoup · 5 years ago
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Yes, Sheriff || Chapter 2
Sheriff Carol Danvers takes her job of protecting the citizens of her small town very seriously — there are just some that she cares about more than others. A lot more, in fact, and she will take care of her sweet baby girl whether she likes it or not.
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relationship: Carol Danvers/Reader rating: Explicit chapters: 2/? length: 6,233 warnings: Dark Carol Danvers, coercion, manipulation, noncon and dubcon sexual situations, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat additional warnings: open the read more and CTRL + F, search “content warnings” to skip to detailed trigger warnings at the bottom of the chapter. note: wow, what a wait you guys. so sorry about that. i’m still not sure how many chapters this is gonna shake out to be, please bear w me! and thanks for following me over to the new blog, i really appreciate it. 
You woke to an alarm, the digital clock on the nightstand blaring irritatingly until someone who definitely wasn't you reached out to turn it off. Your head was pounding, a result of too much alcohol and not enough water. It was the other pains in your body, though, that brought your brain into focus with painful clarity; the tenderness of your nipples, the ache in your cunt and fuck your ass felt like it was on fire. You'd gotten drunk during dinner with Sheriff Danvers, you couldn't remember entirely but you must've done something that made her think you wanted her to fuck your brain out and she'd done her best to comply. 
"Good morning baby.” It was a sleepy murmur, Carol taking your chin in hand and gently tilting your head back until she could press a soft series of kisses against your lips. 
It was languid and gentle and for some reason that set off warning alarms in your brain. She'd been so… domineering last night, you were almost sure. The rawness of your ass emphasized the point, had she spanked you? You couldn't remember for sure but what else would have caused that? Her hand ran down the length of your back and you squirmed as her fingertips danced across your burning ass cheek. 
"Mmm, that's gonna smart for a couple of days at least," her lips were still practically pressed against yours while she spoke. “You'll be good for me, won't you baby girl?" 
The endearment made you tense—she'd used it constantly while fucking you absolutely senseless and it vividly reminded you that Yes, she had been incredibly domineering. Sex with Carol had been brutal, verging on unbearably painful at points, but you were pretty sure you'd had the orgasm to end all orgasms. The soreness in your pussy reminded you that she'd used a serious strap on too, something big enough to leave you with an ache. 
"Hey baby, look at me," it was a quiet order but definitely order and your eyes flew up quickly to meet hers, not forgetting the hand tracing shapes on your smarting ass. "Good girl. I'm gonna take a shower while you stay in bed and rest some more. I'll be out in just a minute and we'll get dressed and head into town to grab breakfast." 
You nodded after a short moment of hesitation and she smiled, lips coming down on yours several more times before she shifted you off her person and onto the bed before standing up. Averting your eyes from her naked form took effort but you knew your face was red, you couldn't just watch someone as hot as Sheriff Carol Danvers walk around bareass naked and not blush. Her chuckle reached your ears and you quickly buried your face into the pillow beneath you until she disappeared into the bathroom. You'd wanted to request a shower, you felt sticky all over with cum and the remnants of your own arousal, but saving face was more important at that moment. You could just clean up by the sink once she finished. 
Despite everything, the bed was rather nice, her sheets incredibly soft and the blanket was just heavy enough. Forcing yourself out was a task but you needed to go get your bag from the living room, preferably before Carol finished up. The faster you were dressed the better— it meant less time naked in front of her. She had abs and streamlined muscles and every inch of her was toned and strong and you were not. It was embarrassing and made you incredibly self-conscious, so you dashed through the house as quickly as possible to retrieve your bag and bring it back into the bedroom where there weren't wide-open windows. 
You'd managed to slip on your panties, almost audibly whining at the feel of fabric over your raw and bruised ass before Carol emerged, half-dressed in a bra and her uniform pants, but stopped short in the doorway. A look came over her face that you couldn't decipher but was definitely not good. You froze in place, arms reeling into your sides while you clutched your skirt. 
"Did you put on clean panties? Over that filthy pussy?" Your face colored immediately with humiliation, agast she'd speak like that and also because yes, you had put on clean panties while you yourself were rather gross and that was not the kind of thing a smart, competent adult with a fucking masters degree did. "Come here baby girl." 
There was no way for you to know it was deliberate. That Carol knew the second she stepped away you'd get out of bed and disobey her orders. Or that she knew you'd try to get dressed and she could so easily shame you out of your panties for the day. You were so smart but there was no reason to even consider that Sheriff Danvers could have ulterior motives.
And so you shuffled over slowly until you were within arms reach, where she quickly grabbed you and pulled you swiftly into the bathroom. Before you could stop her, her hand slipped down into your panties and her fingers plunged into your cunt. Immediately you went up onto your tiptoes, squealing when the press of her fingers followed you up with the same determination. 
"C-Carol!" 
Her unused hand came down hard on your ass and you cried out loudly the smack brutally reigniting the hellish burn. Your panties were dragged down over your bruised skin and tears rose in your eyes from the pain, falling down your cheeks when you were abruptly bent over the bathroom counter until your bare nipples pressed into the cold tile. 
"I know you were a little tipsy last night, so I won't give you a real punishment. When I'm fucking you, whether it be with my fingers or a strap or my tongue, in your pussy or your mouth or that little asshole, or any other like situation, you call me Sheriff or Sir." Several hard slaps came down on your burning ass and you wailed at the pain, pressing up onto your tiptoes like it might offer any relief from the bruising slaps. "Tell me you understand baby girl."
"I understand!" You yelped between tears. "Sir!! I understand, sir!" 
Her hand stopped raining down on your behind, instead caressing over the hot skin. "That's my good girl. Now, this little cunny," her fingers plunged back inside of you and she hummed in delight when her fingers found a new gush of wetness coated her fingers, "oh, what a precious baby girl I've got. I look away for two seconds and your messy pussy just gets messier." 
Humiliation once again welled inside of you, wondering how you possibly could've gotten wet from that. It didn't seem to matter to Carol, who was still pumping slick fingers into your pussy from behind. You whined when her thumb just barely brushed your clit before finding purchase on the little nub. 
"Oh baby," she cooed, lips trailing the skin of your back softly, "I'm gonna get you good and worked up and then we'll get this pussy all nice and clean. Those panties are going in the dirty laundry though, you're not putting those back on." 
"B-but I don't have any others!" She was very, very aware of that as she kicked the offending garment across the floor without you noticing.
Her thumbnail flicked over your clit and you yelped again, flustered and shocked by how simultaneously painful and arousing it was. "You don't need panties anyway, especially not now that they're dirty. How long is the skirt you brought for today?" 
"A… little above m-my knees." You did your best to quiet your moan when her fingers slipped over the nicest place in your pussy, concentrating her fingertips over the spongy front wall. 
"There probably won't be a breeze today." The blonde shifted her weight slightly and hummed, deciding it was an adequate time to see her plans into motion. "I don't know if I have time to make you cum and clean you up baby. Let's just get this pussy tidied up." 
You whined, loudly, at the loss of her fingers when she withdrew them from your cunt, "b-but—" 
"Nope, no time." She slapped your cunt with enough force it throbbed with pain, enjoying the sounds your made at the pain; you'd feel her hand on your cunt for hours. "This'll help baby girl, plus you need to be punished for disobeying." 
Tears poured down your face as she rapidly spanked your cunt with the same heavy hits, your toes dancing over the floor in agony. Pants of pain escaped your lips as she pulled you off the counter and led you, still bent in half, into the shower. You heard the water turn on, it splashed out of the faucet against your ankles before you heard the sound of the handheld sprayer turn on. She had it on the jet setting and you just about screamed with the forceful stream of water began blasting over your pussy lips. Carol's arm held your waist in a tight grip when you tried to get away.
"Now, when I tell you to stay in bed, you stay in bed baby girl. You don't get up, you certainly don't get dressed. And you never, ever try to get away from me. That earned you a spanking last night and I bet you liked the little one on your pussy even less."
She concentrated the jet directly over your clit and you screeched, knees giving out almost immediately. The only thing holding you up was Carol's strong arm around your waist. The jet moved to spray down your thighs for several moments of relief before it returned with a vengeance. The stream of water battered your clit once again, leaving you screaming endlessly. 
"You said you wanted to cum earlier baby girl, here's your chance," her voice was teasing over the sound of your screams and the shower, her own cunt nearly gushing with arousal, "you've got thirty seconds to either cum or not." 
There was no way your body would be able to push past the overstimulation in thirty seconds and she was very aware of that. The blonde had vague plans of edging you all day long, until the mixture of the pain from the spankings and the desperate arousal left you a crying puddle at her feet. She'd enjoy picking you up, the relief when she finally brought you to orgasm. You'd be so grateful and sweet and she hadn't decided if she was gonna fuck your pussy again but it was a possibility; in her minds eye she made a sad face at your refusal and you just crumbled at the thought of making her upset. 
Somewhere beyond the pain, you realized your cunt was trying to gear up for an orgasm, clenching repeatedly on the emptiness as the water lashed your clit like an overly intense vibrator. Tingles started in your toes, the almost orgasm from earlier welling up once again. Coming would be agony but not coming would be so much worse. You wailed and babbled, feeling the heat rising with starting intensity and you almost fainted when she moved the jet away. 
"The thirty seconds are up baby, you didn't cum in time huh?" You squirmed roughly in her hold, nonsense escaping your mouth as desperation set it. "Please be a good girl for me baby, stay still." 
You'd never been edged so savagely before, certainly never twice in a row. All of your sexual experiences up to this point had been tame and at least mostly enjoyable and you could barely comprehend that she'd stopped before you could cum and didn't plan to let you finish. Your toes slid on the shower floor, wanting desperately to rub your thighs together but your pussy was tender from the spanking and your clit was throbbing, the lack of orgasm leaving you absolutely wrecked. You clenched down on your muscles the best you could, desperately trying to stay still. 
"You really are trying to stay still aren't you baby girl?" The spray from the showerhead hammered against your sore ass cheeks for several long seconds before the water turned off and Carol finally let you stand straight. 
"Come on baby, we gotta hustle." Carol was strong enough that physically lifting you over the lip of the shower was easy and she, for some reason, trusted your legs to hold up your weight once she set you on the rug. "I still want to do breakfast at the diner, let the rumors start that we're together." 
Together? Your brain struggled to function and make sense of her words but she didn't even give you a chance to speak before she started toweling you off with quick but gentle movements. You yelped when the fabric touched your raw ass or the sensitive lips of your pussy before sliding down your damp legs. The showerheads concentrated target meant you weren't entirely wet and Carol dried you off rather fast. 
"Good job baby girl," the praise made your throbbing cunt tingle just that much more, "now you get dressed and I'm gonna finish getting ready for work." 
Your knees trembled as she moved away from you, leaving you standing on the bath mat feeling like a baby giraffe who needed to learn to walk quickly before the predators came. You stumbled on the first step and your pussy exploded with pain from the pressure of your legs touching as you walked. Carol talked about wanting rumors to start that you were together but you wanted to get out of there and fast.
You were sure she'd make a great lover for someone, someone who liked pain with their pleasure or being ordered around constantly, but not you. Your bag was still sitting open on the bed when you got back into the bedroom and you could hear Carol in the closet. It was almost a relief not to have panties, the press of the fabric would've been unbearable you were sure. Even the brush of your skirt on your ass hurt. 
The blonde was ready by the time you finished dressing and brushing your teeth. You couldn't figure out how to ask her to take you straight to the library without her getting upset. Especially since as you thought about it you hadn't ever actually said no or stop, Carol probably had no idea you weren't into it. Obviously, the crying hadn't been a good indicator, you were sure people cried all the time during rough sex and still enjoyed it. She came up behind you quietly, arms wrapping low around your waist. 
"You were so good for me this morning, sweet girl," she murmured, lips brushing over your cheek and ear, "I know it was overwhelming and hard but you did it. I'll come up with a reward for you while I'm doing my paperwork, maybe I'll let you cum earlier than planned." 
Your pussy had not at all, even once forgotten that you'd been brutally edged twice or that you still hadn't cum. Your clit was throbbing in desperation, the spanking you'd received doing nothing at this point but leaving your cunt over sensitive and swollen. You could feel your pussy lips every time you moved and it was a special kind of torture. A promise of an orgasm lingered and your cunt immediately became slick and wet. 
"Now let's go to breakfast baby." She acted like you could walk like a normal person, as if the way she wrecked you didn't leave you with weak knees and bowed legs, her arm simply coming to ring your waist as she pulled you along. "I grabbed your purse, just leave everything else."
You didn't want to leave everything else, your toothbrush or your clothes, the pajamas you didn't wear or the book you'd brought to read before bed, but words were hard and you couldn't make them come out, not while Carol's hand rested dangerously on your ass. She'd spank you immediately and with no hesitation if you tried to fight an order and you knew that in your gut.
Instead you allowed her to lead you to her cruiser without a fuss, sitting down in the passenger seat with a whimper that made her smile. She set your purse at your feet and buckled you in, taking the time to give you a long, lingering kiss in the process. 
Mortification crawled up your throat when a wolf whistle came from behind Carol, the huge man exiting the house wearing a uniform similar to Carol's. The blonde pulled away from you just enough to flip him off before returning, a series of short kisses landing on your lips before she dragged herself away and closed the cruiser door. She and the man, Thor if you remembered correctly, spoke for just a minute before she walked around and got into the driver's seat. 
The ride was uneventful, she held your hand against her thigh for the duration and told you to stay in the car until she came around. It was weirdly chivalrous and gentlemanly compared to how she'd treated you earlier. Your ass throbbed as you slipped out of the cruiser and you were thankful you still couldn't quite remember receiving the spanking that had left such a painful mark. There were far too many curious eyes inside of the diner and you kept your head down, knowing that what Carol said was easily accomplished; the rumors were going to start flying before you even left the restaurant, especially when she sat next to you in the booth instead of across from you. 
"What are you hungry for baby?" She asked arm slung low around your waist and with her hand on your hip, fingers slipping under the waistband of your skirt. "Get something with lots of protein, okay?" 
"Well good morning Sheriff, y/n." Of course your waitress would be Friday; she was a sweet girl, but nosey like her father Tony Stark, who owned several businesses in town while also playing the role as Burgess's only competent mechanic. "What can I start you ladies off with?" 
"Just two coffees and two glasses of water, for now, please," Carol spoke before you could attempt to, turning to face you. "D'you need creamer baby?" 
You could see the interest on Friday's face at the endearment and almost groaned—Friday prided herself in knowing everything about everything, starting with town gossip and ending with particle physics. Carol had picked a prime location to start her rumors. 
"Yes please," you answered quietly, keeping your eyes mostly on your hands folded on the table. 
Carol glanced back up at the waitress with a short smile. "We'll have our orders ready by the time you get back, Friday." 
The young woman nodded and set off back to the kitchen while Carol adjusted her position to face you better. You weren't really sure what to expect, the pair of you hadn't really talked before (except for last night probably, but you'd gotten drunk halfway through the conversation and everything passed that was spotty). 
"Do you know what you want to get baby girl?" 
"Just-just some eggs and a bagel." Your stomach certainly wasn't up for anything heavy. 
"Get bacon or sausage too." The words came out like an order and you felt petulance set in for just a second before the hand on your hip squeezed, Carol obviously having noticed expression on your face. "You earned yourself an orgasm earlier today, baby, but that can go away and you can earn a punishment if you want. Maybe I'll spank that pretty pussy again. That was only my hand baby girl, don't earn yourself the back of a hairbrush."
Your cunt clenched immediately, still wet and desperately aroused. It must've been the thought of her touching you that got you hot because it certainly wasn't the promise of your pussy getting spanked with a brush handle, especially when your pussy was already a little sore. You couldn't imagine getting spanked with something that would make you hurt worse.
"Bacon." It came out as a murmur, a low tone with more whine to it than you intended, but Carol didn't seem to mind. 
She nearly cooed at you, "you're so cute, baby. Bacon it is then. Tell me what your day looks like, sweetheart. When do you have your breaks? What do you have to get done?" 
You spoke softly, not recognizing the change in Carol's expression as she listened. She knew your daily schedule front and back already, instead focusing on her plans for the day. She unfortunately really did need to do some paperwork or she'd fall behind. Your lunch break was shorter than hers by half an hour, which she would use to run home and grab some things from her toy box as well as to grab lunch for the pair of you to eat in her office at the station. You wouldn't say no if she'd already bought and paid for it, especially for you. Once you'd eaten, she'd edge you with a vibrator as many times as she could until she had to drive you back to the library. 
"I have meetings at the town hall today, during my lunch hour." As you spoke, Carol forced herself to calm when irritation immediately set in at the fact that her plans wouldn't work out the way she'd hoped. "Luckily it's not a long walk, I really need to call Tony about my car…" 
"I'll come pick you up baby, what time do you need to be there?" Edging you in the cruiser would be risky, she'd have to be careful not to make you cry, but it would be a good excuse not to let you finish—oops, we're here, I'll have to finish you off later. 
"Well, 12:30, but you don't have to—"
"I'll be there baby," Carol turned away before you could answer, smiling at Friday as she returned with your drinks, "Thank you. I'll have the breakfast platter with scrambled eggs, y/n would like eggs and bacon with a toasted bagel."
Friday raised an eyebrow at the way Carol ordered for you but didn't say anything. "Cream cheese?" 
"Yes, the sugar and fat will do you some good baby." You blushed darkly at the blonde's words, not daring to check the expression on Friday's face. 
"Eggs like usual, y/n?" 
Carol listened to you answer affirmatively, scrutinizing Friday slightly at the young woman's attitude; she obviously wasn't a fan of the way Carol spoke for and over you. She certainly wouldn't be toning it down at all but the quick glimpse at the reactions of one of the townsfolk was interesting and she filed it away. Once the waitress set off again, a calculating expression on her face, the blonde returned her full attention to you. 
“I’ll call a mechanic after I drop you off.” She’d call Justin Hammer instead of Tony, the idiot would fuck something up and potentially ruin your car, which in the long run would be incredibly useful. “Here baby, drink your water before you have any coffee.” 
The orders she gave really and truly chafed; you knew it was best to drink water before having coffee, you were an adult, but being told to do so was so irritating you didn’t want to. But there was a lingering threat in the air and you knew that disobeying wouldn’t do you any favors at this point; Carol didn’t seem very intent on privacy and you had no idea what she may do if you refused to do what she said in public. You grabbed the glass of water and took a long sip, trying to make sure your face didn’t betray your annoyance like it had earlier. 
Her fingers danced over the crest of your hipbone, tugging the waist of your skirt down slightly and you shifted, eyes immediately darting around nervously to make sure no one was paying attention, “C-Carol, what—”
“Do you always get off at 8?” She interrupted before you could finished your sentence, ignoring the nervous expression on your face as her hand slipped around under the top of your skirt to rest against your ass. “That’s when you got off last night right? Do you really work 12 hours each day?” 
You licked your lips anxiously and nodded, “I have an hour break each day though, and I have a few junior librarians who work alternating shifts throughout the week.” 
“What about days off, baby girl, you can’t work seven days a week.” The blonde looked displeased and the unsettled feeling in your gut just got worse. 
“W-Well, I don’t work Mondays, all three of my junior librarians work that day to cover the hours,” you twisted your hands in you lap, seeing from her expression that it wasn’t the answer she wanted. 
“You work six days a week, 12 hours a day?” 
“Just 11 hours a day, cause of the lunch break—”
“Semantics, baby, you know what I mean so don’t try to play word games,” she squeezed her hand against your throbbing ass and you bit down on your lip to keep from making any noise. “Why don’t you hire more help in the library?” 
She didn’t want you there so often, working shifts longer than even she did at the station. It would keep you away from her far too much, she hadn’t realized that you worked basically every single day. That would need to change immediately. 
“I don’t need it,” you murmured, eyes focused on your glass of water so you didn’t have to look at her, “I enjoy working and my job is fun. It’s very rarely stressful or exhausting and I live alone so it’s not like I have tons of housework to keep up with or anything so extra days off would be superfluous. Even if I was home I’d probably just be reading or knitting and I can do that at work while I’m not busy.” 
“It’s not good for you baby, there’s a reason most people have at least two days off during the week.” Her hand travelled back to your hip as Friday arrived with your food. “Thank you, hon. How’s your little sister doing? I heard she broke her arm jumping off of one of your dad’s trucks.” 
Friday immediately rolled her eyes, tucking her serving tray under her arm. “Jumping off of the top of one of dad’s tow trucks! She’s lucky she only broke her arm, the little idiot.” 
Carol snorted a laugh and shook her head. “Bucky and Sam said she was talking about physics or something the whole time they wrapped her arm.” 
“She’s a smart kid but she’s so dumb,” Friday complained. “She said she was testing to make sure gravity was still working because her dolls fell at the same rate even though one was heavier than the other.” 
“What is she, eight now? You better hope those daredevil antics curb with age or my paramedics are gonna become real close friends of the family,” the blonde teased. 
A slight blushed crossed Friday’s face and you smiled to yourself while putting creamer into your coffee cup; she had a not so subtle crush on Bucky Barnes, one of the guys you’d grown up with, for ages now—much to her father’s disapproval. Bucky was pretty smart and had a knack for robotics that had led to quite a bit of destruction when he was in high school that Tony was inevitably called to fix. He was the local mechanic but he was also the resident genius and received almost as many SOS calls as the station. Even as a well educated paramedic and a contributing member of society, Bucky hadn’t been able to erase the bone deep irritation Tony felt every time he saw the kid. 
“Thanks, Friday,” you spoke quickly when it looked like Carol might start teasing the poor girl. “Should we pay at the register today? It looks a little busy.” 
The brunette smiled and nodded, appreciating the distraction. “Yeah, if you don’t mind. Mrs. Phillips wants to turn the tables as quickly as we can, Sundays are always so busy during football season.” 
She excused herself from the table and you suddenly found yourself once again the center of Carol’s attention and wondered if, maybe, you should’ve just let the blonde tease Friday until she got bored. At least it would’ve kept her distracted from you for a few minutes. Her fingers were dragging lazy circles over your hip and you had to tamp down on a shiver. 
“You need to figure out how to arrange your schedule to have more time off, baby girl,” she immediately picked back up on your previous conversation, fork in hand, “at least two complete days off a week and you shouldn’t be working more than eight hours a day.” 
“It’s—it’s fine, though. I like my schedule,” you pursed your lips, frustrating coming to sit in your chest. 
“You’re working your life away, y/n.” You almost trembled at the sound of your name falling from her lips, she hadn’t used it since yesterday, before… everything else. “You’ll learn to enjoy things outside of work, too. Now, eat your breakfast before it gets cold.” 
There was no room for discussing in her tone and you clammed up immediately. You were fully aware that you worked far more than most people, but your job wasn’t difficult or stressful. You didn’t really need time away from it like you were sure Carol needed from hers. The library was your happy place, surrounded by books and the patrons. It was certainly better than being at home, in your house that wasn’t really your house, on the same land your parents had died on. 
You didn’t respond, didn’t bother. Carol’s demands didn’t mean much in the grand scheme of things, it wasn’t like you had to do what she said anyway. Your breakfast was delicious, the diner was one of your favourite places to eat in town, and you ate most of it before calling it and focusing on your coffee. Carol had a significantly higher appetite than you, being several inches taller and with at least fifty pounds of muscles on you. You assumed she must’ve worked out regularly too, to be in as good of shape as she was. You weren’t sure you’d ever seen a woman in real life with actual abs. 
“Finish up, baby girl, we’ve gotta get going in a minute,” her hand squeezed your hip gently and you glanced to see her plate was almost empty, just a biscuit remaining from the platter she’d ordered. 
“I’m all done if you are.” The look she passed your plate was calculating; you’d eaten most of it, the eggs and half of your bagel and one of the strips of bacon. 
“Eat the rest of the bacon and we’ll head out.” You looked at her incredulously, wondering if she just hadn’t heard you or if she really was willing to bulldoze you quite so thoroughly, and concern turned her lips in response. “Can’t you eat it for me, baby? Please? You’re so small, it worries me that you’re not eating enough.” 
Guilt settled heavily in your stomach and you picked up one of the remaining slices of bacon; everyone knew that Sheriff Danvers had a big heart, she cared deeply about the safety and wellness of everyone in your community. Even before people started to accept her as part of the town she’d started going out of her way to help people, bringing groceries to some of the more elderly folks in town or stopping by to feed dogs or cats for people who got caught at work later than expected. She was a genuinely good person and you felt bad for getting so irritated with her. 
Carol watched the emotions pass over your face with rapt concentration; it was interesting to see the way you went from annoyed, to guilty, to properly brought to heel. The guilt would really be a breaking point, she could tell. You ate the last two slices of bacon and she smiled at the obedience, leaning over to kiss your cheek lightly. 
“You’re so good for me baby girl. Come on, let’s go pay and I’ll drop you at the library.”
Another splash of guilt ran through you when she paid for both of you meals, easily shushing you when you tried to protest. Friday’s eyes were alight with excitement when the blonde wrapped her arm around your waist and tugged you into her side, the tenderness the woman showed obviously leading the waitress to believe you were indeed in a relationship. Just like Carol wanted, you remembered absently. Everyone in town would hear about it before noon, you were sure. Really, you shouldn’t have let her bring you to breakfast. You’d be denying a relationship for years to come. 
Carol walked you out to the car and opened your door again, holding it while you slid in. When you expected the door to close, she leant in and started tugging at your skirt. You hissed her name when she tugged it up around you waist, spreading your knees wide and slapping the inside of your thigh when you tried to close your legs. 
“Stay like this baby girl, do not move.” The order was clear and you froze as she closed the door, feeling like a deer in the headlights as she walked around the cruiser and got in. “Good girl, keep those pretty thighs spread.” 
She took her time starting the car and you felt a nervous sweat break over your forehead, eyes scanning the surroundings constantly. People walked up to the town’s police cruisers all the time and if someone chose this moment to come over it would be… very not good for you. She cranked the car and put it in gear, smiling sweetly at you as she turned in her seat to look behind her while she pulled out. 
The other shoe dropped with startling intensity; the second she’d straightened out on the road her hand was on your pussy. You exhaled heavily through your nose when her fingers stroked over your clit before continuing their descent; you’d almost forgotten how worked up she’d gotten you earlier, the way she got you so, so close to coming and then refused to let you. 
“Are you still wet baby?” Her fingers slid easily into your channel and you squeaked as they curled up to rub against the spongy wall of your pussy. “Oh good, nice and messy for me.” 
“W-Wait—” her thumb found your clit and you couldn’t finish speaking, a moan dragging from your lips as her hand immediately got to work. 
It was shocking how fast she managed to work you up, your hips rocking against her head and your head pressed back against the seat. Her fingers squelched as she pumped them into your cunt, the slickness of your arousal coating her hand and easing the drag. Your ass burned as your hips moved, dragging your bruised skin over the leather seats, and your face lit with a blush when the drag got less painful because your pussy was leaking onto the seat. 
“That’s so good baby,” Carol drove with ease despite her split attention, somehow waving at people as she passed while still fucking your cunt with special attention on your gspot and clit. “Are you gonna cum for me? Get that leather nice and messy, I wanna smell your pussy all day.” 
The blonde smirked to herself, your moans coming louder and more desperate the longer she worked you over. The second she pulled into a parking spot at the library though she withdrew her hand and you cried out, immediately whipping your head around to look at her with big eyes. 
“Sorry baby, we’re here,” she unbuckled her seat belt, entirely unconcerned by the arousal covering her hand and opened the door, “wait for me to come around.” 
You couldn’t have moved even if she hadn’t ordered you to stay in place, your chest heaving at the loss of sensation. There were tears in your eyes when she opened the door and she smiled down at you, wet hand immediately finding its way back between your spread legs. You had a tiny moment to hope she might finish you off but she only wiped her hand on the inside of your thigh. 
“Now, I’m going to let you walk in by yourself.” Her words almost didn’t make any sense, blood rushing through your ears as your cunt pulsed desperately. “You be a good girl and do not touch yourself today. You don’t get to cum until I make you cum, do you understand?” 
She gave you a hard look and you gulped, nodding your head in a jerky fashion, “Y-yes S-Sheriff.” 
“That’s so good baby.” She bent over and pressed a kiss to your lips, her still sticky hand cupping the side of your face and smearing your own arousal against your cheek. “Now, go open up the library. And leave that little pussy messy, I want you to leave puddles behind wherever you sit today.” 
content warnings: dubcon vaginal fingering, spanking, water play, edging/orgasm denial, slight exhibitionism, lots of manipulation as usual  
296 notes · View notes
solzubasu · 4 years ago
Text
{Shigaraki Tomura\\ Alphabet}
I got inspired to make this because of my friend, @knifeewifee​. Link to her Twice Alphabet here. I am going to do the man I Simp for, Tomura! I love him so much!
P.S. I finished this around 1 O’clock in the morning, so I was a bit tired. >M<
I hope you guys like it!
NSFW part included :]
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SFW -------------------------------------------
A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)
He shows very little Affection. Shigaraki is not a very good affectionate person, since he never did receive affection. So he wouldn’t show his the affection in front of others, besides his S/o.
The way he shows affection, would subtle gestures. Standing beside you, brushes your hair from your face, letting you play games with him. Away from everyone, of course. 
B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)
He wouldn’t be your friend, he’s your leader, you're his subordinate.
But over time, once he’s used to you being in the League, he’ll start seeing you as a comrade.
Or possibly, more than that...
C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)
He will secretly want cuddles, but he can’t admit that. He a supervillain he can’t have people see him getting cuddled.
But I think secretly when it’s just you and him. He’ll want cuddles, even if he’s the Most Wanted villain in Japan- He loves being cradled in your arms.
(And don’t worry, he has special gloves to keep from disintegrating you)
D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)
Settle down? I could imagine it. No, he ain't the type to, he rather be playing video games than maintain a house. 
No, cause and point, he ain't cleaning. We’d have to be the ones cleaning up his mess. Dirty laundry, a trash can full of god knows what, dust piles everywhere.
 Oh god, who did he kill again...?
E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)
I feel he would break up first, due to his temper and need to accomplish his goal of destroying hero society. 
But he would probably be the first to try and get back with you, but knowing himself, he’d probably ruin it. But he’ll try harder to make the relationship work, it’ll take time.
F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)
Him? Getting hitched!? Doubt it! But, I feel he would make an exception for you.
It’s all because of this fic.
G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)
Physically, He wouldn’t lay his hands on you, he doesn’t want to lose you due to his Quirk.  
Emotionally, He can’t understand how feelings work, but he’ll “try” to be there...
H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)
No, No hugs. He wouldn’t want to hug you, he cares too much about you to lose you. 
But once he’s used to you, then he’ll let you hug him, HUGS FOR DAYS! In private of course.
I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)
He would not be the first to say it, we would have to be the first to say it.
The only time I feel he would is the moment you two argue to the point where he feels your going to lose him. That’s when he’ll say it, to prove that he car
J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)
He would get really jealous when he sees that anyone is near you, or flirting with you, especially Dabi, He’ll for sure want to kill them. Once he’s gotten you next to him, he’ll make sure to mark, what’s rightfully his.
K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)
 His kisses are rough, and not just because of his chapped lips.
Which I don’t mind~
 He’ll definitely shove his tongue into your throat.
L = Little ones (How are they around children?)
He wouldn’t be the type to have kids, but if he did, I can only see him having one. That we’d have to raise most of the time
He’d raise them, just like One for All did, but raise them to be his kid/future leader of the PLF. YOU KNOW we’d have to be the driving force of the kids common sense of right and wrong, if not he’ll turn out to be a copy of him.
M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)
Mornings, I bet He’s either sleeping soundly in your arms, his face snuggled up against your chest. His hands close to him, making sure he doesn’t hurt you accidentally. GOD I’m a sucker for Soft Tomura
                                                      Or
He’s been playing video games all night, and he fell asleep on his gaming chair with the headset still on, controller slightly falling from his hand.
N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)
He spends most nights, playing video games while you watch him beat the shit outta other gamers.
But if it’s you and him, I imagine a movie marathon of whatever you two enjoy watching together. I can also see both you and him getting into the right cuddle position.
Shh, it’s fine, let him be the big spoon. Just for tonight.
O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)
I think the most he’ll open up is, what his favorite video games are what his main goal is, etc.
His darker secrets, he’d probably open up about his past to you, once he is comfortable around you. I wouldn’t see this happening, not until after the Re-Destro fight. I’d say a week or so after the incident.
P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)
He has no damn patience, He gets angry pretty quickly. You better make sure that you can handle his temper, if not, you better get tough soon.
If you try to get his attention when hes going something, you bet, after 5 pokes to his arm, he’s already agitated.
Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing or do they kind of forget everything?)
Okay- Personally- I see him as the Yandere type and the not-so-good boyfriend card here.
He’ll remember small details like- Your birthday, favorite food, drink, Ice cream, and color, etc. 
But what he won’t remember other things like, what you needed him to do, ask him to help you with something. It is, what it is.
R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)
His favorite memory is quality time playing video games with you. Even if he wins most of the time, he'll let you win and make up an excuse why he lost
 ‘My finger just slipped, so shut up..’
S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?
Very Overprotective, he wants to make sure nothing EVER happens to you. Be it, you hurt yourself, got a cut during a mission, a hero took you as bait. THAT MAN WILL DISINTEGRATE A BOOK IF YOU GOT A PAPER CUT! 
Before the PLF, He’d make sure you stayed behind him or just protect yourself you’re strong! After he’s the leader of PLF, He’d have calmed down a bit, after all, he has Villains left and right to lay down their lives to protect you
But in the case of you protecting him, He’d be honored and salty about it, but you both would risk your lives for each other, no way are either of you dying! 
T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)
Dates are a no go, as much as you’d like to, YOU’RE Villains it isn’t exactly a good thing to be wondering around having a casual night out.
He would celebrate small birthday parties (Including his own). Anniversary, he would want to spend his time alone with you inside his room. 
JK, he’d want the two of you to spend time away from the LOV/PLF he’d probably make a romantic dinner, hey, we all dream about it!
Gifts, really hard to get before the PFL, but he isn’t the most thoughtful person, in a sense of giving things. He takes things, not give things!
Cleaning his room is like the worst! But he tries since he wants you to be happy and comfortable when you’re there with him.
U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)
Playing Video games all night, Dirty laundry Is that a sock...? NOPE!
He yells a lot, so you’ll have to get used to that...
V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)
I feel he wouldn’t care what he looks like.
But after meeting you- The one person he loves -He would start looking at his complexion. 
Seeing all the imperfections throughout his face and neck. He would start to hate himself, more than he does now. 
But after reassuring him, that you love him, no matter what he looks like, he’ll start wanting reassurance every now and then.
W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)
At first, he wouldn’t think that he was incomplete because of you. It would be more of, his goal, to destroy hero society. 
‘I want to ride the world of these heroes... I hate this world..’
Over time, once he’s with you, he knows that if you ever left his side, he wouldn’t want to live in a world, with you in it.
X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)
Cuddles, You cannot convince me otherwise, that he does not! Like- once he’s in your arms, as you slowly caress his soft greasy locks. He’s hooked!
He is the smol spoon, but he can be the big spoon from time to time.
The reason why, your heartbeat, it calms him down takes his mind off his troubles for the days ahead or the stress of the day.
Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)
Honestly, I think he wouldn’t dislike a lot of things, but I do know he’d hate girly things, anything cute. 
In a partner, someone that pesters him too much, probably one that cries a lot of Tears are his weak point.., other than that he’s fine with other aspects. 
Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)
Definitely cuddling up to you, sure he’s a big bad villain, but he wants to cuddle. At the same time, knowing he could hurt you while sleeping makes him anxious.
But don’t worry he has gloves, and he makes sure that you’re holding him. As he has his hands between his chest, while he snuggles up to your chest. Hearing the steady beat of your heart makes everything worth it.
One thing I have known, that Horikoshi has shown us is, Tomura sleeps standing up. If I saw someone standing up, in the middle of the night, right next to my bed. I’d scream. 
Click to continue for the NSFW part
NSFW -----------------------------------------
A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)
 I bet this man makes you clean after yourself, cause he ain’t cleaning you.
Only when he’s done something wrong, and he’s fucked you to make it up to you, will he be gentle, but make a confused face and he’ll become a tsundere. Blushes pretty hard when he’s being gentle with you, good thing he puts Father on his face. 
B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
He’s into butts when you walk in- He’s always staring through his father’s fingers just to get a peek of those curves.                                      Like-
When you walk in front of him, he’s stares too long, that he starts getting a boner, and then to turn around- He’s gone to take care of his erection.
C = Cum(Anything to do with cum, basically)
This man will use you like a fucking cum dumpster he gives no shit if you’re body is covered in his seed.
He loves it when he’s cummed in your mouth, once he’s blown his load. 
When he tells you to show him, his cum drips down your chin, you bet he’s ready to make more right then and there.
D = Dirty secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Secretly, wants to get Dominated by you.
Of course, he’s never going to say that, he wishes it, as much as he wants you to use him until he’s a whining mess.
Teasing, and overstimulation, he wants it. Never admits it until after you’ve done this to him. (Like, three-four times)
E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)
The first time he was going to have sex with you (or the first time EVER), he’ll act like he knows how to have sex. 
Trust me he has no fucking clue how to fucking have sex, which is cute.
If you know how to have sex, you're going to fucking Dom him the first time.
If you don’t, he’ll Dom you (unless you’re a top).
Once he’s had more experience, you bet he’s a monster in the bedroom! He wants to try EVERYTHING, he’s going to make sure that he’s satisfied.
F = Favorite position (This goes without saying)
Mating press, he wants to make sure to reach the deepest part of you, seeing your Ahegao face when he hits your pleasure point.
Hot seat, (OH is this one is nice!) If he’s in a meeting, and he’s fucking horny, he doesn’t give two shits if you bare ass naked in front of others. He’s just showing others what’s his, he’s horny, and you better act accordingly to his needs.
Downward dog, He wants to make sure to plow deep into you, making you moan, and whine for more.
Orgasmic penetration, He loves to fuck you if you become a brat. Laying your stomach on top of a surface. His figure looming over you as he fucks you slutty hole makes him more aroused.
G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? Etc.)
I feel there are more serious moments, then goofy ones during sex.
The times that are goofy, is when he’s ready to get his dick wet.
For Females, when he’s thrusting his dick fast and deep, he’s so in ecstasy that when your pussy ‘Toots’ he stops slowly. 
For Males, when he’s grinding on your ass, he’ll think his dick will go in with ease. The boy is he wrong, his dick is trying to g in, but damn is your ass tight.
By the end of both, he’ll feel flustered? Angry? Embarrassed? Defiantly.
H = Hair (How well-groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? Etc.)
The carpet matches the drapes for sure, hasn’t shaved in his life. barely maintains his actual hair, so not well-groomed.
I can see his pale blue hair, thin from his belly button, going to a thick little bush above his dick.
I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment? The romantic aspect)
He wouldn’t think about it so much during sex, unless you reach up to touch his cheek, sweep his hair so he can see you, kiss him sweetly. He’ll start to be more “romantic”.
He’ll call you names like: “Baby, Babe, My Future Queen (In my opinion), and Player Two”.
J = Jack off (Masturbation headcanon)
Takes your underwear, he is a nasty freak I love him either way, He’ll lick, sniff, and rub that cloth all over his dick, once he’s done, he’ll put it in your drawer
He’ll masturbate in your room, everything in there will be used; Pillows for humping material, your clothes as aroma arousal, and your bed full of stains of “Unknown” origin.
K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)
Breeding, he’d never want you to get pregnant, but he want to hear you beg him to fill you to the brim with his thick, hot load inside of your womb.
Chocking, he loves chocking (not with all five fingers), but the feeling of you begging him to chock you, makes him excited.
Cum, he wants to cum on, in, and make you a slut for his salty cum, you could say, sip sip, “I love your juicy cum Tomura~” and he’d gladly give you more, you filthy slut~
Orgasm denial, loves it when he/you get really into sex, and either of you are denied, once he/you are able to finally cut that tension, oh how good is the pleasure of that sweet release. Makes both of you taste that sweet moment of ecstasy.
Exhibitionism, he loves having sex where people can see him claim you, and gets an ego boost when it usually Dabi, or a love rival of his. He doesn’t care if your uncomfortable with you being exposed like that, your tight little ass/pussy tells him something entirely different.
Sadist, you could be his M for his S, cause this man want you to beg 72 hours, not 24, for him to fuck you senseless. He makes you bend knee for him.
Somnophilia, your not even safe when your sleeping. If you’re asleep, while wear either one of his black hoodies, boxers, bra and panties, or nothing, pray to All Might that he won’t be too rough. (Sorry, your not..)
Virgin kink, if you are a woman, JESUS TAKE THE WHEEL. This man loves to have sex with you while your menstrual cycle is happening. Loves to say things like. ‘You like that? You filthy little virgin?! How do you like my cock taking your virginity?! Does it feel good?! Huh?!’
L = Location (Favorite places to do they do)
Meeting rooms, he likes showing your body off, everyone needs to remember who you REALLY belong to.
Bedroom, you have more private sessions and access to more toys in there.
Out in the open, let it be while in a mission, or in front of you family, this man has no limits to how dirty he can be.
And I’m here for it!~
M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)
Booty shorts, without a doubt. when you sway or walk past him, you bet he gets a boner, along with Dabi, who gets a death glare from Tomura. XD
Making innuendos, if you give him any explicit sign of wanting some Alone time, you have him around your little finger, or your around his cock.~
N = No (Something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)
Honestly, I can’t see him disliking to many things. 
He is into every filthy thing, no matter what it is, as long as he’s done it once.
O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, Etc.)
Loves getting Oral sex, he loves getting head from you. No matter where it is, what time of day it is, he wants to see you have his cock shoved down your throat.
I feel if he gives Oral it’ll be messy.
Male, he won’t be able to shove it down his mouth, but he’ll do his best if you encourage him, or insult him that he can’t do it. He’ll tease the sac very well~
Female, he’s going to shove his damn tongue into that tight little cunt, he’ll miss the clit entirely, unless you tell him to tease it with his tongue r his fingers.
P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? Etc.)
Oh boy, is he a rough/fast pace kind of man.
He can be slow if he Tries to be romantic, he’s still rough but he can be slow. 
Making you beg for faster him to go faster, which of course
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) 
These are during missions when you two haven’t had sex in a while.
Quickies are the best ones, especially when it comes to showing other people that want you. and show them who you belong to. Cough couch Dabi cough cough.
R = Risk (Are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? Etc.)
Well since he doesn’t wear condoms, you are at risk for some things.
Males, AIDS, and HIV.
Females, Pregnancy, STD, and HIV.
S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)
First time, at least two-to-three times.
After you two have had sex more, OH BOY, he can go for at least four-to-ten rounds, depending if he’s had a enough or just wanting
T = Toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)
For sure, most of this was obtained by stealing or using Re-Destro’s money.
A vibrators, ball gag, some S&M goodies, and plugs.
Defiantly has a fucking machine.
U = Unfair (How much they like to tease)
He loves teasing the crap out of you, let it be using his fingers, dick, tongue, toys, and teeth. He’ll make sure to make you beg and whine under his touch, His deadly, touch.~
V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
He’s a medium, He’s loud when he wants to be, but he’s also soft.
Loud, He grunts and yells, ‘Fuck, God damn, So fucking tight, Shit, Etc.’ in my opinion, he just wants to get more fucking pleasure
Soft, muffed whimpers, he can’t help but want to feel release, but he wants to make sure that your the only one to hear those whimpers of wanting release.
W = Wild card (A random headcanon for the character)
Like I said before, in his mind, he would loved to be Dominated.
Once you know, he’ll try to deny it as much as he can, but it’s too late.
He is DEFIANTLY a brat, that needs to be tamed by you, teach him to use the proper name he should call you, (For me, a female) Master~
He gets turn on by it so much, that when you tease him, by calling him a “naughty little brat”, he’s wanting you to fuck him.
X = X-ray (Let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
Depending on what your wearing he’ll think of many things.
Baggy shirts, hoodies, T-shirt and shorts; he wants to imagine that you have nothing under those, he just wants to rip them off of you to see if his hypothesis is correct.
Tight clothes, skimpy outfits, leggings; He’s thinking of what of undergarments you have, some really sexy ones, or nothing at all.~
Casual clothes, he wants to imagine a plug inside of you, some nipple clips, some thick anal beads, and small vibrator (He’s waiting for you give him the remote for it). 
Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)
Very, VERY, high this guy hasn’t had sex, so once he’s had a taste. 
GOD. DAMN. HE. DOESN’T. WANT. TO. MISS. OUT. EVER.
If your horny, and he’s not, it’s easy to get him going.
If HE’S horny, he’s having sex there and now.
Z = Zzz (How quickly they fall asleep afterward)
I know we’d probably pass out after that rough sex session.
I think he’ll ask to be in your arms, but depending on his stamina.
Low stamina, he’ll fall asleep within 10 minutes, shoves his face into your chest, cuddles the shit outta you. He doesn’t even bother to pull out.. (Hope you guys did do his breeding kink..)
High stamina, he stays up for another 30 minutes, this is where he shows his softer side, he’ll make sure that your asleep. Caresses your head and kisses you, before he get in the bed with you.
This is canon, no matter what, he is soft when it’s just you and no else.
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mlqcimagines · 5 years ago
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Heyy, how about a HC of Victor with an MC being followed/stalked home (her calling him in worry about it possibly)? Thank youu 💞
Hope you don’t mind, Anon, but I decided to turn this one it to a bit of a 100 follower celebratory ficlet!
Dark had fallen over Loveland City hours ago, and now only streetlights and the occasional passing car lit your way as you walked home from work.  A tired but satisfied sigh left your lips as you thought back on the hectic and tiring, yet incredibly productive day you just had.  Victor had requested a last minute proposal write up for a new show that was barely in the concept phase, and you'd stayed very late to get it done.  But it was all worth it when the email had come back, in the CEO's normal perfunctory tone. 
"This is fairly well put together.  Good Job."
8 words that had lit up your eyes and your heart, so despite the late hour and your own approaching exhaustion, you decided to walk home and allow yourself to bask in the feeling of a job well done. 
You took your time, meandering from the business district till the street was lined with more residential apartments and townhouses. 
It was right around then that you noticed the person walking behind you.  Nothing too out of the ordinary, even this late, you assured yourself.  Until you stopped to rummage through your bag for your phone, and noticed his pace slow down to match yours.  That was when you felt the bit of unease stir in your stomach. Gripping your phone lightly, you watched behind yourself as unobtrusively as possible, the glow from Victor's hard won praise melting away as you were followed for the next block.  
"Ok", you thought to yourself, "I can deal with this."
Just as the thought crossed your mind, a movement from the opposite sidewalk caught your attention.  There, matching you step for step, was another man, a veritable giant who looked as though he could bench a small car.   Mind racing faster even as your steps slow, you raised your phone to your ear, thumb easily dialing the number you'd memorized long ago. 
"I hope you have a good reason for calling me so late, especially since I'm about to leave the office."
Victor's voice had never sounded so beautiful to you as it did right then. 
"I think I'm being followed."  Your voice was small in an attempt to keep quiet. 
The sound of footsteps that had echoed from Victor's end of the line stopped, then sharply picked up.  You heard the slamming of a car door. 
"Where are you?"
"Avenue C and Broad Street. I think - Oh!" 
As you had talked, the man across the street had pulled ahead of you, and you could see him crossing the road at the end of the next block, his dark, hulking form outlined clearly in the streetlights.  He jogged across to your side of the street, and began to walk in the same direction as you, only about a block ahead.  But what scared you the most, causing you to clutch your phone even more tightly, was the simple fact that, as he turned onto your side of the street, the ever present streetlights began to fall dark, one by one, as he passed them. Penned in both front and back, it left you with a path of darkness that lead only towards him. 
"-ok?  Talk to me.  Tell me what's happening." 
Victor's calm voice brought you back to yourself, and you took a deep breath. 
"There's one just under a block ahead, another half a block behind. I noticed the first one about 2 blocks ago.  I… I think one of them might be an Evolver.  The streetlights are going out behind him. "  though you struggled to keep your tone calm and steady, an undercurrent of nervous fear was beginning to show through, and you silently cursed yourself. 
"It's ok, MC.  I promise you're going to be safe. I'm 3 minutes away." 
You swallowed, slowing your pace even more.  This time the man behind you didn't slow, but began to catch up with you, slowly, but inevitably.  As you watched him in the reflection of a homes windows, something seemed to slide out of his sleeve.  He caught it, and gave an almost idle swing, tapping it against the ground as he walked. The smallest of blue sparks jumped from the tip, but quickly disappeared into the darkness that was beginning to feel almost oppressive.  
"Victor" you whispered, swallowing hard against the sudden dryness in your throat. Your free hand wandered down into your bag, scrabbling idly till you found your keys and gathered them into your fist. 
"1 minute.  Talk to me, MC.  What do you see?"
Even you could now hear the tightness in his voice, and underneath that, the sound of a car engine, revving higher and louder. 
"Stun gun.  Behind.  I…"
You trailed off.  You'd reached the spot where the streetlights had been extinguished.  
"I'm going to need both hands." You finished, voice small, scared, but steady, and slowly lowered your phone into your bag, making sure not to end the call.  Victor's voice echoed tinnily from the speakers. 
"Please, MC, I'm almost there."
But you'd already stopped, choosing to fight in the tiny pool of light left. 
The giant stepped out of the darkness, chuckling in a gravelly voice.  He towered, but you didn’t waver, instead meeting his stare defiantly with your own. 
“Heh.  So I suppose you think you’re going to fight, try ‘n scratch me with those keys, hm?” He almost chortled, eyes sparking with suppressed mirth. 
“I do.”  The man behind you had almost caught up, and from the corner of your eye you could see him raise the stun gun.  But you were already moving, swinging with all your might at the one in front, shifting your weight to follow through on the punch.  Unsurprisingly, as you managed to connect, slamming your fist into his jaw, you felt a raw, blinding pain begin on your left side.  
Then every thing but you shuddered to a halt, and you stumbled forward, gasping, struggling to keep your balance as your left leg threatened to give out on you.  Before that could happen there were arms around you, and you were pulled against a broad chest.  Dazedly, thoughts rattling and sparking from the zap you’d taken, you looked up, only to see Victor’s face, pale and tight with worry, staring back at you. 
“Oh thank you.” He muttered as he gathered you to him, “Thank you thank you thank you…” You weren’t sure who he was thanking, only that he was here, smelling lightly of sandalwood and fresh laundry, and you could let go now.  Every ounce of tension from the last few minutes seemed to leak away, and the last thing you felt was the light press of Victor’s lips moving against your hair. 
_____________
“Victor!”
You sat up with a gasp, his name the first thing on your lips.  The dim recognition that you were in your apartment, on the couch, came and went, lost in the confusion of waking somewhere different from where you’d last been.  It wasn’t to last for long, however, as the man himself was instantly in front of you, hands rubbing up and down your arms.  You sighed in relief.  
“Dummy.  What did you think you were going to do?” His voice was strained, and he briefly touched his forehead to your own. 
“I don’t know.  Fight.  I won’t go down easily, I refuse.”  Another small sigh, and you offered up a sweet smile.  “I need something to drink, if you’ll excuse me?” 
“Oh no,” Victor’s voice was stern and forceful, though a smile tugged at his lips. “You were literally electrocuted.  I had the doctor here, you’re not to get out of bed.” 
You blushed, stammering objections till you tried to move a little to quick, and then you felt the effects of last night lance through your side with a stinging pain.  Gingerly you lifted the edge of your shirt up, eyeing the nasty bruise with furrowed brows.  Huffing in indignation you leaned back.  
“But I’m hungry…. And thirsty…”  The pout in your voice was obvious, but Victor just chuckled and brushed a stray hair away from your face, then disappeared into the kitchen.  A moment later he was back, bearing a tray laden with breakfast was presented to you, bringing a big smile to your face.  You tucked in happily, and when you were done you rested back into the pillows.  The food and warmth had you happy and content, and Victor’s presence kept your mind from turning the events of last night over and over in your head.  Your eyes drifted lower and lower, so that you heard, rather than saw, Victor walk back into the room.   The bed next to you settled a bit as he sat down, and a hand casted lightly through your hair. 
“Victor?”
“Mhm?” 
“Thank you.”  You felt him stiffen a little, then chuckle. 
“Dummy. I told you I would be right there.  You should have some faith.”
But you were already asleep, breathing steadily, surrounded by a sea of pillows and blankets. Victor stood carefully and bent down, brushing a gentle kiss against your forehead.  Exceedingly carefully, he tugged up the blankets, tucking them in. 
“Sleep tight.”
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nothingleftinlife · 4 years ago
Text
Cold Weather Prompt
First and foremost, thank you for taking your time to read this, I appreciate the idea of spreading my omorashi ideas to be used in the greater community. Anyway, on with the prompt.
As someone who lives in a very fierce part of Eastern Canada, bad weather and cold weather is common. So, imagine your character (Who will hereby be referred to as ��A’’) is in a cold climate- whatever that is to them, be it a moderately chilly temperature to minus forty-five, whatever you like- and your character feels like they’re absolutely freezing. They can’t feel much through the cold, but one thing has become rather apparent in the past minutes. They have to pee. Obviously there’s a few ways to take this sort of prompt.
Possibility A: Despite the cold temperature- whether it’s comparatively cold or objectively cold- A finds somewhere to go. Perhaps they find an outhouse if they’re in a forest or on a trail, or maybe they make it/go back inside their home. Once they’re inside, their body recognizes that the cold isn’t a threat anymore and therefore relaxes, pushing their need to the forefront of their mind. Of course, accidents or barely-made-its are up to preference; perhaps they manage to shed their layers and make it, or they can’t break through their winter clothes, or maybe they do but can’t make it to the bathroom for whatever reason (locked, occupied, stuck zipper, et cetera). Again, whether they make it or not is up to you.
Possibility B: Unfortunately, A is either too far out in the wilderness, too far along a trail, or they’re door is somehow locked and it’s preventing them from making it to a true bathroom. Now, they’re stuck in the cold with a needing bladder. It’s too cold to simply remove their clothes and go, but they really don’t want to wet themselves. Again, whether they make it or not is up to you, but some possible outcomes if they do make it could be; If they’re in the forest or on a trail, maybe they find a discarded water bottle, glove or snow-hat (I always disliked the term ‘toque’) that they manage to put down their pants to absorb some, if not all (depending on A’s bladder strength and size) of their accident. Of course, perhaps this isn’t enough and they can’t stop themselves, or maybe it’s *just* enough. If they’re outside their locked house and either their friend/lover/family come home, allowing them in, or maybe they find an unlocked window and manage to break into their own house. Of course, they may have neighbors who are feeling rather altruistic as well, allowing your desperate character to get their much-needed relief.
Possibility C: But what if A doesn’t make it? If they’re on trail or in a forest not populated by brain-cell-lacking degenerates, they might not find anything but snow and wet branches, leaving them without a saving grace. Eventually, walking in the snow with all their snow/cold wear might get too taxing for them, forcing them to make a choice: Hold on further and risk damage or sacrifice their dignity and a laundry cycle. Of course, both of these end in failure anyway, as no bathrooms are close enough to make, causing A to collapse to the ground as a violent hissing wraps around their popsicle-d legs. The warmth is comforting, at least. And if A’s outside their home, maybe they live alone, or their friend/lover/family is working/away at the time. And, of course, their security is better than they hoped for. They could always ask a neighbor, but that would be humiliating- “Excuse me, I locked myself out of my house and I’m about to wet myself on your doorstep, could I use your bathroom?” They could never do that! So, they wait outside their house and pray that someone, something saves them. Alas, A eventually can’t hold on anymore and fall to their knees/double over, their hands clasped to their crotch as a small trickle forces its way out, soon evolving into a steady stream of unusually hot pee pooling in the snow at their knees/feet. A’s then forced to wait for their friend/lover/family to come (either from work, another important engagement,or perhaps they called them to ask for help, it’s a lot easier when it’s someone you know), hoping their pants don’t freeze. Maybe Person B finds A with their wetted pants and teases them for it, or perhaps they’re sympathetic and fluffy. It’s up to you.
I should say, these prompts aren’t meant to be colour-by-number story plans, they’re simply meant to get a bit of creative ideas circulating. If you use one of these possibilities, that’s perfectly okay, and if you come up with your own, then all the more power to you! I simply want to give a bit of an idea of how you could build your story out, as I, personally, have problems thinking of scenarios or plot-lines (if you can even call them that) for prompts sometimes. Regardless, I’m prattling. Thank you for reading, and I hope you make the best of your writing abilities, because I believe in each and every one of y’all piss-lovin’ sumbitches!
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duker42 · 5 years ago
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NSFW Alphabet for Mike 🥰 please!
NSFW Alphabet for Mike Zacharias:
A-Aftercare: Despite his giant build and his role as the Second Strongest Soldier, Mike is a complete teddy bear when it comes to aftercare. He is the type to smother his lover in kisses as he cleans them up. Then prepare to be held for as long as you want, because this man lives to snuggle with you!
B-Body Part: Mike as a boob man. Doesn’t mean they have to be particularly big, he just loves to cup your breasts in his large hands. He also loves to feel your perky nipples pressed against his chest while you are having sex or you are just laying against him. Expect those bad boys to be swollen and a bit sore when he gets done loving them with his mouth.
C-Cum: Mike has a dirty little secret, he loves cum. Your cum, his cum, doesn’t matter to him. Your cum he loves all over his face and in his gotee as he licks you over and over until you are begging for mercy. His cum he gets a rush out of seeing painted on your body or oozing out of your satisfied pussy.
D-Dirty Talk: He is normally a quiet man, but his dirty talk game is pretty awesome. That rarely used deep voice is perfect. “Have I told you how sexy you look bouncing on my cock?” “Fuck, Y/N your pussy’s so good I’m about to blow, you’re so good at squeezing the cum out of me.” That sexy tone is guaranteed to push you into your own orgasm.
E-Experiment: Mike is all for some experimentation. He had several ideas of things that he wants to experience with you. He’s a man secure enough in his manhood to be willing to push his own boundaries to try what you want at least once. If it’s not for him he will let you know. It’s all about that give and take for him. How can he expect you to try those things that make him hard if he’s not willing to do the same for you?
F-Favorite Position: This man loves for you to ride his cock. Not only does he get a fantastic view, he’s not unaware of the large size difference between the two of you. It’s a way he doesnt’ have to worry about hurting you by accident. Another favorite is to hold you up in his arms and push you against a wall. Something about having you unable to move much in his arms as you moan out his name does it for him.
G-Goofy: Surprise! Mike can be a bit of a goofball with you. He’s not opposed to teasing you and cracking jokes. He keeps it more on the fun loving side rather than insulting. For him, sex is a stress relief and he enjoys when you both are laughing before you start having sex. Given the stressful nature of your jobs as Scouts, of course he wanted to be a light hearted with you as possible.
H-Hair: Our golden giant has a nice dusting of hair across his broad chest. Not enough to claim he’s wearing a fur coat, but enought for you to know that your stud is all man. His pubic hair is lighter than his chest hair naturally, not having much growing in to trim. You’ve made fun of him for before and he retaliated by hiding your razor for a week and calling you Sasquatch.
I-Intimacy: Yes he can be all fun and games at time, but for Mike, he expresses every emotion in his hands on your body. When it’s the night before an expedition, the grins fall away and he sets out to make sure you know that his heart is firmly in your hands as he revertly strokes your skin. Expect him to put that nose to use as he drinks in your scent, etching it into his brain as those green eyes close and he sighs against you.
J-Jack Off: He loves to fuck you, but that isn’t always and option and you know that. He will take care of himself in the privacy of your bedroom. Laying back on your bed, he will firmly grasp his cock in his fist and work himself up to and orgasm with hard, fast strokes. His eyes are closed as he brings your scent to mind and it’s like you’re right there with him. His body jerks as his cum jettisons out onto his stomach and he sighs, relieved that he had his release.
K-Kink: Lowkey Daddy Alert! He would never ask you to call him Daddy but if you do, expect that man’s hips to start moving faster as the sound propels him to fuck you harder. He obviously has a Olfactophilia Kink, loving the scent of you any way he can get it. You pretend not to notice that he has swiped a pair of your panties from the laundry. High key LOVES to watch you masturbate in front of him. He will lock the door to his office and put you on his desk to get a front row view of your fingers dipping into your dripping pussy.
L-Location: He will fuck you anywhere he can get you alone for more than five minutes. Once, when he was feeling particularly evil, he took you into the Captain’s office and bent you over his desk. For weeks after, anytime he had to go talk to Levi there was a stupid grin on his face.
M-Motivation: It really doesn’t take much to get Mike in the mood. If you wear any of the expensive panties that he has bought you and wear it under your uniform, he will spot the outline against your trousers. He’ll be raring to go. But he loves when you come up to him and run your hands across his chest and pull at him to lean down and gives him a sloppy kiss. It will normally end with him throwing you over his shoulder to find the nearest secluded spot.
N-No: He’s not going to hit you, even if you want it. (Punching, kicking, slapping) Mike knows his strength too well to even play at something like that. Plus he doesn’t want to hurt you, he loves you. He’s also unwilling to choke you during sex. As an officer, he has seen too many accidental deaths he’s had to write the report on for autoerotic asphyxiation. NOT HAPPENING
O-Oral: This man could go down on you for hours an be happy. He honestly believes that his best death would be to kick the bucket with his face between your legs, except for the fact that it would traumatize the shit out of you. But this doesn’t mean he doesn’t fucking love the sight of you on your knees in front of his chair with your lips wrapped around his dick. He fucking loves when you wake him up with a blow job, he will just have the best day no matter what happens.
P-Pace: He’s a giant of a man and stronger than an ox. In the bed of course he’s like a damn train barreling down the tracks. He starts off slow, giving you time to accommodate his girth, but when he’s freely sliding into you, expect that man’s cock to turn into a jackhammer, pounding away at your cervix. When he’s in that mood to really fuck you until you see stars, you’ve woken up everyone in your wing of the castle from your screams. It was really embarrassing that time Erwin burst in, thinking there was something wrong.
Q-Quickie: Sex is sex. He knows that not every time is going to be a nightlong multiple orgasm love-making session. Sometimes that quick fuck in the woods when your supposed to be training is the best thing for your relationship. It keeps the spark alive and your body throbbing for the next encounter you may have.
R-Risk: Sex in public is always a thrill, but as an officer, he does keep it to areas you are less likely to be seen. But if there’s a reasonable chance he can get you both off before someone comes by, expect your pants to be pulled down in a heartbeat. Risky sex is alright at long as it’s not choking you or punching you. Again, thats not happening, but he will set up safewords when you want to take a walk on the wild side.
S-Stamina: He’s another one of those men that can outlast his woman to the point where she’s wondering if he’s ever going to cum. When you two have the time, he’s going to be moving inside you for at least an hour. He can speed it up for you by leaning down and drinking in your scent. If you weren’t quite done with him, it’s going to be awhile. At least half an hour, but he will make sure that you are kept entertained by his tongue and fingers in the meantime.
T-Toys: Mike is wary of toys until he learns what all you can do with them. Then it’s like a little kid being given free reign in a candy store. He will buy everything that looks interesting. It will just be another thing that can aid in making sure that you are completely satisfied in his bed.
U-Unfair: He doesn’t really like to tease you too much sexually. He would rather give you multiple orgasms than try to deny you. Mike wants you anticipating your next encounter, not wondering if he’s going to edge you for hours without relief.
V-Volume: There’s something about these Scouts that just makes them more quiet in bed than most. He will grunt softly in your ear during a particularly pleasing move or thrust. When he cums, its going to a a low calling of your name as he releases. You’ve only been able to make him shout a few times and it’s a personal goal of yours every time your together.
W-Wild Card: Mike is pretty possessive. It’s a good thing that not too many people would fuck with his woman, because it wouldn’t end well for them. He is definitely one to go pull you out of someone’s range and give you a quick but thorough fuck in a closet.
X-X-Ray: Again, he’s a giant. Of course his cock is going to be the same. He is almost pushing 11 inches of thick, girthy deliciousness. His tip is like the edge of a sword, much smaller, allowing him to work his way in without causing you too much pain.
Y-Yearning: If there wasn’t the issue of serving humanity and fighting the Titan’s, Mike would probably try to spend all of his time in bed with you. As much as possible and still support you, of course. He loves the feeling of your skin against his, your calming presence around him and craves it as much as possible.
Z-Zzzz: Mike sleeps pretty well, as well as any Scout can. But after an intense few hours of making love to you, he’s ready to slip off into dreamland. He will cuddle for as long as you want, but most of the times as you lay there in his arms, his eyes will close and you’ll start to hear his soft snores. It’s always so peaceful and you find yourself drifting off too.
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asherranceoftheheart · 5 years ago
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Icarus Falls - III - The Good Doctor Comes Home
Story Summary: “You’ll never leave me alone right?“ “You think I’d actually let you go?”
A story about the slow descent and corruption of a lonely man, a demon who learns that bonds go both ways, brothers who deeply regrets their words spoken out of anger, and a conflicted man watching them all fall down from the distance. Here’s a Puppet!Chase AU that was written with extreme self-indulgence so beware and read the tags before entering.
Chapter Summary: Chapter title says it all lol but also a breather chapter Pairing/s: None, Platonic Character/s: Jack McLoughlin, Chase Brody, Antisepticeye, Henrik Von Schneeplestein, Mentions of Other Septic Egos Genre: Angst, Fluff Chapter Warning/s: Self-Deprecating Thoughts (Thoughts like I’m not as good as the others, etc.), Sadness, extremely vague mentions of torture (Archive Of Our Own Edition)  (Prev. Chapter)
Do you ever have one of those days when you wake up feeling both numb, and raw and sensitive on the inside and thinking ‘Ah. It’s one of those days…’ and wondering if it’s even worth the effort to open your eyes and move?
Chase felt emotionally and physically drained with a rocking throbbing headache as he woke up in a cold empty bed, tucked in like a child under the blankets. He stared up at the ceiling blankly, looking and thinking of nothing in particular until the memories began to come in crystal clear film in his mind. His hand twitched as he remembered the warmth of another person enveloping him even if that person had been his mortal enemy.
A part of him wanted to hate himself for missing, for yearning for the addicting affectionate touches that his enemy showered him with while he had been dreadfully sick. After all, had he become so desperate after nearly nine months of having no positive physical contact with other people that he would take comfort in the demon who was the main cause for why it was happening in the first place? However, a bigger part of himself was just tired, so very tired of the constant emotional olympics his self-hatred would force him to go through every single day.
He closed his eyes and for a moment, he allowed his own mind and heart to fool himself and pretend that the last part of yesterday never happened. He chose to believe in the fleeting happiness of the illusion that his best friend had never gone into a coma and tht Anti was merely a part of an excruciatingly long nightmare.
When he opened his eyes again, the sun had gone down outside but he can’t find the energy in himself to give a fuck about time moving on without him.
Chase heard his phone buzz with new notifications. He stomped down the flickering spark of hope that it would be any of his brothers finally answering his messages and calls. He knows that he can’t keep blocking out the world like this especially when the world needs him to be Jack McLoughlin so with an exhausted grunt, he slowly pushed himself up to a sitting position and reached over to the left bedside drawer to grab his phone.
He pressed the button on the side and was relieved to see that it was just Doctor Adam rather than one of Jack’s friends asking Jack if he was alright.
Dr. Adam: Mr. Brody? You haven’t replied to my messages for a while. Is everything alright?
The concern from the doctor melted some of the ice numbing his heart. This man really reminded him of Henrik albeit softer and more formal.
Chase: I’m ok doc. But I don’t think I’ll be able to drop by for a while. Think I caught a bug on the way back or something and I don’t want to transfer any of it to Jack. I’ll try to take a few more days off until I’m sure I’m okay. :)
Dr. Adam: Ah! I thought so… You’ve never missed a day visiting your brother unless you were really sick. So I was worried. But since you said that you’re okay I have to trust that you know yourself and your limits by now. Do take care of yourself! Get a lot of sleep, eat something even if it’s just buttered toast (altho I would prefer if you ate healthier foods…), drink lots of liquid, and make sure you take your medicine.
Chase: Yea, I’ve been doing all that Just keep me updated on Jack pls?
Dr. Adam: But of course, I know how much you worry over your brother. Anyway, I’ll leave you to rest. I hope you get well soon!
‘I hope I do too, Doc.’ Chase wiped a hand over his weary face with a loud sigh.
He placed his phone down on his bed when his eyes caught sight of something sharing the same drawer that his phone had been placed in earlier. It was his medicine and it was placed on top of what appeared to be a note. He knows what the pills were obviously for but the note awakened some of his curiosity and anger.
It was obvious who wrote that note.
He wanted to run over to his desk and grab his lighter to burn that seemingly innocent looking white paper as anybody with a shred of common sense should. However he knows himself. He knows his curiosity over what the note would contain would itch at him for a long long time if he didn’t find out what it said.
He inhaled deeply and slowly let the air out as a low hiss through gritted teeth while he mussed up his already messed up hair.
“Fucker,” Chase insulted both the demon for taking advantage of his thrice damned curiosity that could rival the stubbornness of a spoiled cat, and himself for falling for this obvious show of manipulation as he forced his arm to reach out and grabbed the paper.
He crumpled the note into a wrinkly ball and stared down at it with some trepidation. What horrific message will this paper contain? Was it going to contain some blackmail worthy secret? Maybe taunt him for his complete breakdown yesterday? Jesus Christ… He literally fell apart on top of the bastard. He’d wish he could erase the memory but Anti would probably take that as permission to completely fuck him up mentally and maybe possess him as a little treat.
Well, he can’t keep stalling for more time like a coward. He uncrumpled the paper, smoothing it out on his covered lap, and read it with some trepidation.
One pill every eight hours from the moment you wake up. Going to be busy for a while. Don’t wait up for me, little brother. You’re still sick so don’t have a breakdown every other hour. Remember I’M ALWAYS WATCHING
Chase stared down at the note that was practically dripping with sarcasm with an expressionless gaze. A form of calm had settled down upon him and he almost absentmindedly started to rip the note in half. He doesn’t know what to feel about the laughably simple note. Should he get angry? Should he spend the time away from the bastard trying to decode some sort of hidden message from it?
In the end, he decided that it wasn’t worth the energy to get annoyed or obsessed over the taunt. He spent the next few minutes tearing the note into teeny tiny pieces before he left it scattered all over the top of his lap in unsalvageable scraps.
The ripping and tearing actually brought him some satisfaction which he relished in no matter how tiny it was. He swept the mess off his bed with a wide wave and watched it free fall to the floor like snow during winter. The man slid off his bed and spitefully ignored the medicine before he dragged himself over to the bathroom to freshen up.
He took a short shower, changed into fresh new indoor clothes, and dried his hair with a towel before brushing it up until it stayed neat and fluffy on his head. A sudden burst of productive energy suddenly shot through his entire body when he looked over the entirety of his room and realized just how filthy he had let it become over the months.
Chase could almost hear Anti sneering at him at the back of his head, telling him how useless and broken he was when nobody is there to pull him forward like a fucking donkey.
A massive wave of spite mixed in with his burst of energy and he began walking around the room to gather up his dirty clothes to put inside a hamper that he carried over to his laundry room to load up inside the washing machine. Then before working the machine, he went back to his room to change his bed sheets and blanket to a clean one before hefting them all up to the laundry room. While the washer was humming and vibrating as it got to work, he grabbed two big trash bags from his current location before he walked back to his bedroom.
The first step to feeling better after another one of your long episodes is to clear up the clutter that built up around you. It will help you associate clearing up as another way of resetting your own point of view.
A tiny smile twitched up at the corner of his lips as Henrik’s gruff but gentle voice as he coaxed him from his bed in the past. He separated his trash into two bags and straightened up to look around his now cleaner room. Chase tied up the trash bags so that none of them would spill out before he opened up his window and smiled faintly at the refreshing evening breeze that brushed against his heated face.
Then he walked over to his closet to bring out the Roomba that he hasn’t used for a while, letting out a victorious ‘heh’ when it still worked and placed it in the middle of his room before turning it on to roam around the floor to suck up the dust that built up over the past months.
He gave his cleaner and brighter bedroom another look over with satisfaction pulsing in his chest before making two trips up and down the stairs to take out the trash that he just collected and move the piled up dirty mugs on his desk down to the kitchen.
“How’s this for being useless and broken, asshole?” Chase spitefully said into the empty air towards the absent being who insulted him daily when he was there. “Fuck you.”
Chase huffed to himself in the middle of the kitchen while he was crouched over his dishwasher, loading it up with all the dirty dishes. After he closed the thing’s door, he realized as his stomach growled rather loudly, that he was pretty hungry.
“I’m hungry but I’m not in the mood for anything too heavy or chewy…” Chase hummed while he browsed the contents of his fridge. He leaned over and grabbed the covered bowl at the back of the fridge. “Oh hey, this was the cream of mushroom soup I ordered a week ago… It doesn’t smell bad so I guess it’s still fine!”
He heated it up on the stove before scooping them all up into a clean bowl. He placed a spoon with it before he walked over to the living room. Chase turned on the TV before laying on his side at the couch while he slurped up his soup.
‘Man… If Hen was here he’d probably be telling me that this soup isn’t healthy enough for me,’ Chase chuckled to himself, eyes misting over with nostalgia over the memories of his most fussy older brother. ‘Then he’d threaten to tie me up on a chair and feed me his horrid homemade food.’
Henrik might be one of the smartest people in the world but his cooked food… There’s a reason why he was never allowed to cook for them during their weekly gatherings. He remembered Marvin telling him a story about his first time of coming into contact with Henrik’s Mystery Food and swearing on his name and magic that it had a living soul.
“It’s not that bad!” He would hear Henrik stomping his feet on the floor while imagining the lethal glare he’d give his brothers while they gently redirected him even as he’s protesting the discrimination loudly from the kitchen.
“Henrik please… Every single bite Jackie makes of your food immediately sends him to the hospital and you of all people know that he’s immune to nearly all sorts of poison.” Jack squeezed the fuming doctor’s tensed shoulders in an attempt to calm him down.
“Come on, Jack-Jack. You don’t have to sweeten the truth up for our mother hen,” Marvin’s delighted and mischief-filled voice would snicker from the other room where he was probably curled up on the floor near the window to get the maximum sunshine. “Henrik, your food tastes so bad that Jackie���s mind blocked out any memory of the taste to protect him from relieving the trauma.”
“As if your cooking is any better!” Henrik would shoot back scathingly.
“At least I can survive on it on my own and feed some of it to others!” Marvin would have puffed up as he readied himself for their banter.
“Guys please,” Jackie, ever the peacemaker, would try to calm the duo down while Jack wouldn’t even try and raise the white flag the second they start.
Chase laughed to himself at the present time as he recalled the loud racket Marvin and Henrik would make while they exchanged light-hearted insults. He would’ve been in the kitchen, humming and smiling while he busied himself with his cooking. A few minutes later would find Creator and Hero skulking back to his safe grounds with their tails tucked neatly between their legs and trying to help him but he’d just easily shoo them off to pout at the kitchen table.
‘I wish Jamie had experienced that before everything went to complete shit,’ Chase’s smile turned bittersweet at that stray thought. ‘Henrik and Jack would’ve loved him. He and Hen would probably spend some nights drinking tea in the middle of the night with each other. He’d have helped curtail some of Marvy’s sharp nature with a light smack on the shoulder. Jackie would’ve been so glad to have someone helping him act as the peacemaker of the family. Jack… Jack would’ve adored him. He’d gush about how Jamie was so spirited, so sassy, expressive and—and how he and Marvy always loved so fiercely…’
Chase licked his spoon clean (Marvin would’ve been looking at him with disgust and tell him that he’s a mannerless savage which… bold words for someone who would lick their balls while in their cat form) and dropped it down with a loud ear ringing clang on the now empty bowl before placing them on the living room table. He scooched over and laid down on his back on the couch and crossed his arms at the back of his head as a makeshift pillow while he reminisced.
Anti might insult him for doing nothing else but think of the past but it was the only thing that gave Chase the energy to keep moving forward even if he didn’t really want to. For the sake of all his loved ones who would’ve wanted to experience those memories in the future with them after all of these bullshit… Yeah, he’d trudge through all the painful days for them.
He closed his eyes and tried his darnest to remember anything memorable that had happened since the others left him behind but other than Anti’s unforgettable presence, everything else passed by in a blur.
“Damn,” Chase sighed, his smile lacking any light nor humor to it. “Anti really had a point when he said that I’m useless without the others huh?”
It is not your fault, Chase. Depression has the tendency to mix all your memories together in an unrecognizable blur. Do not worry. We are always here to help you remember.
“Unfortunately Doc,” Chase sighed as he sat up and grabbed the dirty bowl and spoon to place them together in the washer. “The only person left who’ll help me remember the past months is a complete bastard who I wouldn’t entrust my head to even if I had to choose between him and pain.”
Not that he really wanted to remember anything… He’s pretty sure that if he remembered anything it would just be of him whining about his loneliness, Anti fucking him up, and trying to keep up the Jack mask so that nobody else would find out that something had gone wrong.
He went back upstairs and moved the wet clothes from the washing machine to the dryer and loaded up the dirty bed sheets and blanket to the washing machine before heading straight for his bedroom. The Roomba died under his desk, having lost all of its battery while he was downstairs, and he scrounged through his dark closet for its charging adapter. Once the Roomba was set up and charging, he changed into his new pajamas and slipped back under his blankets.
He continued ignoring the set of pills on the drawer and turned on his side so that he could curl up under the sheets. Chase powered on Jack’s phone and waited for it to load so that he could check the comatose man’s social media. Another mentally and emotionally draining part of his imitation job was to maintain the Jack mask while pretending that the man was A-Okay and there was no reason for concern.
First, he pulled up Twitter and made a face when he realized that somebody posted something on the account while he was sick. Thank god it was just a little message to everyone that he was going to be on a break for a while because he was sick. It was still creepy that Anti could perfectly copy Jack’s mannerisms as he looked through the little retweets-interaction with everybody. Even he had some hard time fully copying his best friend’s posting quirks.
Either way, it was still annoying and stressful to Chase how the demon could keep pulling these kinds of shit with Jack’s social media. Maybe he should change to passwords and login info to everything while Anti was god knows where.
Chase sighed and shrugged. Then again, it’s not like that would be effective anyway. He knows that Anti was the one who keeps reblogging art of himself on the tumblr account even though he was pretty sure he changed the password nearly fifty times over the past few months. It never fazed him.
Speaking of tumblr… A part of him wanted to resent the community for giving the demon so much power through their attention via art, theories, and stories but he knows that it wouldn’t be fair of him to blame them for something that is completely out of their control. It’s not like they knew that the thing with Anti which they knew to be an ‘ARG-like’ story for the channel was actually his and his brother’s reality. Most of them were just people who were enthusiastic for the escapism their ‘story’ provided and he couldn’t exactly fault them for that.
He decided to update twitter that he’s feeling much better than before and that he’ll go back to filming videos tomorrow. The replies were almost immediate as the community reassured him that it would be fine if he took more days off to recover fully and he can’t help but smile at their unending support even if it was actually directed towards Jack. He knows that they wouldn’t mind it if he took an entire week off but he gets really antsy when he’s not putting up any content for the channel.
It feels like if he doesn’t keep it up, there’ll be nothing left for Jack to wake up to, all the hard work he put into this channel and community has been one of his brother’s ultimate joys. He doesn’t want to see Jack’s devastation if he also loses the community that he so dearly loved to the coma.
Besides… It’s not like he can afford to slack off while the others are trying their hardest to save Jack. This and taking care of Jack was the only thing that he could do to be of some use rather than become another burden to his brothers.
After he read and replied to a few more retweets, he turned off Twitter and moved his attention to the other big gathering place for the community. He tapped Tumblr’s app button and scrolled down Jack’s blog and let out a sharp, annoyed exhale when he saw that Anti had been busy reblogging things related to him or him torturing the other egos while Chase had been indisposed. A lot of the theorists hit the nail on the head when they theorized that the one who had been reblogging Anti-related things without any caption had been Anti.
It must have been something about Tumblr’s wonky programming but Anti can’t say anything or it’ll come out all glitched and zalgoed. Of course, he could’ve gotten maximum attention that way but he probably thought that it would be much better to have the fans stewing and trying to obsess over every single action that may or may not relate to Anti by having it all be a mystery.
Sometimes Chase wondered if maybe he and his brothers could make use of the community’s eagle-eyed observations that tend to hit right most of the time to help them find out a way to save Jack. He’s lost count of how many times they’ve managed to notice something that he hasn’t noticed such as a little subtle glitch on the video’s audio, a flash of someone in the back of his facecam, or even changes in the description or titles of the videos that was definitely not made by him.
Their skills would’ve been impressive if it wasn’t downright frightening for how obsessed they seem to be with Anti.
He reblogged a few cool artworks and edits with little words of encouragement under their captions. Then he’d like some of the little sneak peeks to the daily lives of the community members that always made him smile because at least these funky little people are doing their best to live. It’s a nice reminder and boost to the morale that there was a reason why he was also doing this other than to keep the channel up and running for Jack’s comeback.
Chase stretched out his arms and legs with a jawbreaking yawn as he felt the sleepiness settle in. He looked at the time on his phone and made a face when he saw how late  it was. No wonder his eyes were starting to blur with sleep. He decided to set his alarm clock up for the morning. He’s gotta wake up early to prepare himself to go under the Jack mask and record a video after all.
The tired man scooched underneath the blanket, covering himself up to his bed and curled up into a tight ball while tugging the sheets around him. A spark of pride welled up inside his chest when he thought back on how he managed to do a little bit of productivity in tidying up his bedroom. While he definitely started out the day rough and numb, he managed to salvage it by the end.
At the end of the day, it’s these teeny tiny baby steps that would bring you much farther than you thought when you look back in the future. So do not sell yourself short, Chase Brody.
Never forget that we are always proud of you no matter how inconsequential you believe your little progress was.
Henrik’s gruff but gentle voice echoed through his mind, easily drowning out all the insecurities and dark voices sneering at him for his pride. For the first time in a long while, Chase fell asleep with a faint but sincere smile on his lips.
0-0-0-0-0-0-0
“Maybe you should’ve jumped higher for that trick shot so that you wouldn’t have fallen over and broken your foot,” Jack’s voice shook with silent laughter as he leaned on Chase’s side while they both watched Henrik scrambling around, fussing over Chase’s foot that was placed in a cast, and fluffing up pillows to squeeze behind Chase’s back while he’s relaxed on the couch and worrying his head over whether his broken foot was raised high enough.
Henrik spun around and levelled a death glare towards his creator who instinctively raised both hands in a show of harmlessness, the doctor bared his teeth at him, “If you keep encouraging him to do more reckless acts I will break your own leg.”
Chase coughed and choked on a laugh and gave his doctor older brother a smile full of innocence and sunshine when he swiftly turned around to glare at him as well while Jack sputtered in the background. Jackie was dying on the floor. He sounded like he was about to upgrade from his booming cackling to wheezing, dying laughter.
“Wh— You took an oath to never harm another human when you became a doctor!” Chase turned his head to look at Jack when he felt him sitting up straight and leaning forward with an outraged look.
“I did no such thing,” Henrik snubbed. “It was whichever fake Schneeplestein that magic made to explain my existence in this universe that made such an oath.”
“You’re still a doctor!” Jack yelled vehemently, slapping a hand on his knees.
Henrik sniffed. He looked down at Jack from behind his nose and made him feel like he was some worm tainting the bottom of his shiny shoes. Then the doctor dramatically turned his back on the pouting man obviously giving him the cold shoulder.
“Chaaaase,” Jack twisted his body to ‘sob’ into his best friend’s shoulder. “Henny’s being mean to me again!”
“There, there,” Chase snickered as he patted the older man’s curly hair. “I won’t let the big bad doctor bully you anymore.”
Jack turned his head so that his cheek was pressed on top of Chase’s shoulder and he stuck his tongue out at Henrik who rolled his eyes back at him.
A massive white maine coone glided into the chaotic living room, jumping up on the back of the couch, and strolled over to smack Jack’s face with his outrageously long and fluffy tail—while ignoring the annoyed yelp ‘Marvin!’ before the poor man started sneezing and cursing the magician’s existence—as he slid down a bemused Chase’s torso into his lap. He rubbed his fluffy body against his little brother’s chest with a loud meow for his greeting.
“Hey to you too, Marvy,” Chase chuckled as the cat began to purr.
Marvin’s purr grew louder until he was practically like a growling motorcycle and arched his spine when Chase’s fingers stroked him from the bridge of his pink nose down to his tailbone. The heavy white cat kneaded his claws into Chase’s baggy shorts before circling around—ignoring Chase’s agonized groan at his weight—and curling up into a smug self-satisfied ball on his lap.
“You satisfied now, Drama Queen?” Chase teased the magician with a fond smile while he scratched the cat on the perfect spot behind his ears. “I think we should put your cat form on a diet. You’re getting pretty heavy.”
The cat nipped at his fingers with a hint of a warning bite but Chase just tapped his prickly older brother on his nose as a gentle reprimand. He only got a bunch of annoyed chattering for his daring gall to touch his majesty.
“Marvin, you better not bite anyone again,” Henrik dryly warned the magician who hissed at him. ���Don’t think I can’t sedate you into going to the vet and getting you neutered.”
Marvin let out an offended yowl and attempted to stuff his massive unit of a body under Chase’s shirt, drawing giggles from the man who tried pushing his fluffy butt away as his squirming body dragged his soft fur over his ticklish stomach.
“Marvin, you fucker!” Chase squealed and tried to pull out the squirming cat who somehow managed to find the perfect position and perk out only his head from under his shirt. “Really? You’re going to subject me to your stinky butt for the entire movie marathon?”
His only response was a thick tail that thwapped his sputtering face.
“Aww… It’s just his way of showing you his love, Chasey-wasey,” Jackie giggled without looking up from his phone. “Also I can’t blame Marv for wanting to snuggle up to you. You’re like a portable heater slash teddy bear.”
“Yeah well, I’d say Marvy would be like a teddy bear too if it weren’t for the fact that he weighs like a rock on top of my kidneys,” Chase deadpanned before smacking Marvin’s back through his shirt irritably. “Use your claws on me again and I’ll neuter you myself without the help of a vet.”
Jack snickered at the irritated mewl from the cat while Henrik huffed and rolled his eyes at their antics. The doctor sat on the right couch seat and pulled the side lever up so that he could fully recline his body and feet. Jack leaned over and grabbed the remote from the table in front of him and Chase.
“Everybody finally settled down for our movie night?” He asked, just to make sure so that nobody would suddenly whine in that childish sort of voice that he didn’t wait for them again.
coughJackiecough
Jackie gave him a thumbs up and finally looked up from his phone. He was laying on his stomach on the blanket he set on the floor with a variety of pillows forming his nest around him. His own bowl of popcorn and a massive bottle full of Sprite was set in front of him.
Chase makes an agreeing grunt while he leaned on him on his side, taking care not to move his cast while Marvin chirruped from under his shirt, his little head poking out directing his nose to the bowl of popcorn on the table. Henrik just shrugged and gestured his head towards the screen.
“Just get on with it. If anybody was not ready I am sure that they’ll be letting out some godforsaken complaint through their loud mouths,” Henrik scathingly said but his eyes glimmered with laughter, taking off the bite from his words. He merely arched an eyebrow at everyone when they childishly stuck out their tongues at him.
Jack huffed and shook his head at the brotherly banters. No family activity would be the same without these chaotic preparations and quips from the others. He pressed play on the remote and started the movie. He sat back on the couch with Chase, his smile unconsciously growing wider when the youngest ego scooched closer to him.
“Is he asleep?” Henrik asked in a hushed tone as he craned his neck to look at Chase’s face which was hiding away against Jack’s side.
Jack nodded with a gentle smile and pressed a finger against his lips in the universal sign for silence. He slowly began to shift himself so that he could move Chase into laying down fully on the couch and for his head to be placed on his lap. Henrik assisted him, carrying the younger ego’s legs into the couch and made sure that his injured foot was raised with a few pillows propped underneath and around it to keep it from moving.
Chase made a soft noise and pressed his cheek on Jack’s stomach while the older man petted his head, idly rubbing a thumb against the healed over scar that would ache from time to time especially when Chase is particularly emotional. The sleeping man sighed contentedly in his sleep and murmured something far too unintelligible for either man to hear. Henrik grabbed one of the free blankets remaining to place it over Chase, tucking him under the warm sheets.
“I’ll get the other blankets—Marvin!” Henrik hissed as the cat that had been watching them from the table, slowly walked over to jump on Chase’s chest. Chase’s breath hitched but thankfully he didn’t wake up. Chase wrapped his arms around the cat who had stretched himself out over his little brother’s body and tucked his head under his chin. “You’re so lucky he’s a heavy sleeper. If you woke him up I would have shaved you, you needy cat.”
The cat flicked his ears at Henrik and made a show of nuzzling the bottom of Chase’s chin and purring almost as loud as a starting motorcycle to spite the doctor by showing just how comfortable he was in his makeshift bed.
Jack rolled his eyes at the little drama queen before he looked back at Henrik with a pleading smile, “Blankets please? It’s pretty chilly around here at night.”
Henrik sighed and nodded. He carefully maneuvered himself out of the crowded living room. Jackie had spreaded out his entire body on his own side of the room, snoring lightly while drool trailed down his cheek. Henrik made sure that he didn’t touch on the territory of the unknowing human venus flytrap who’d snap his arms around your legs in a flash the moment you stepped within his area of attack. Last time one of them (poor Marvin… despite screaming and trying to squirm out of those iron arms...) fell for that trap, they had to deal with a clingy as a leech Jackie for the entire night.
He went upstairs to grab extra blankets and pillows for him and Jack since someone (Jackie…) hoarded most of them for their nest and one of the original blankets was placed over Chase. When he went back down, Marvin was already asleep, his cat body slowly moved up and down to his rhythmic breathing. Jack was staring down at Chase’s face with a blank look which generally meant that the man was probably thinking something that was bothering him again.
As he passed by his creator, he gave the man a gentle smack on the back of his head with his elbow. “This is not the time for complicated thoughts. This is family time.”
Jack jolted at the hit and his voice, turning his head to make a silly face at him.
“I know, I know, I just can’t help it, Hen,” Jack sighed and patted Chase’s head. He peered at the doctor when he saw what he was carrying. “Huh, you got those from the closet in the hallway?”
“Where else would I get it? Here,” Henrik made Jack lean over so that he could place two pillows on the back of his neck. “Support for your neck.”
“Thanks,” the other man gave him a thumbs up with one of his free hands. “Can you uh place my blanket over my lap? I’ll move Chase’s head a bit.”
“Wait your impatient butt. I am just going to move around the couch.” Henrik said as he walked over to his own spot to drop his pillows and blanket before moving over to Jack.
Jack carefully lifted Chase’s head so that Henrik could slip the blanket over his lap. He absentmindedly rubbed a thumb over the sleeping man’s head when his brows furrowed at the movement and he looked like he was about to wake from his sleep. Thankfully, he settled down once he was returned to his previous position only he curled closer to his creator’s warmth.
“Ah man, Chase really is the best little brother I could ever ask for,” Jack sighed with a fond smile softening the weariness from his face.
Henrik snorted, giving Chase a little pat on his head before he walked back to his couch chair and dropped his body on it.
“And you say you don’t play favorites,” Henrik accusingly narrowed his eyes at Jack who stuck his tongue out at him.
“And I’ll keep saying it no matter how much you guys accuse me of it,” Jack grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
The doctor rolled his eyes before spreading his own blanket over him. He turned over on his side and snubbed Jack with his back, ignoring the ‘Oh real mature, Henrik!’ that Jack shot towards him quietly.
“Goodnight Mister McLoughlin,” Henrik said in the snobbiest tone he could muster.
“Are you seri— Oh whatever, goodnight to you too, Doctor Schneeplestein.” He heard Jack huff and mutter something incomprehensible with his distance under his breath.
Henrik stifled a smile and his chuckle as he felt his creator fake pouting even with his back turned against him.
As he closed his eyes, he was highly aware of the sounds of soft breathing (or snoring in Jackie’s case…) coming from everyone in the room and he thinks that it’s the most beautiful sound he has ever heard his entire life.
He wished that he could stay in this single moment in time for as long as he wanted, to engrave it in his memories for when the nights are cold and when deep regrets are keeping him awake.
0-0-0-0-0
“Testing! Teeeeesting… Alright, the mic and audio seems to be okay,” Chase squinted at his face cam, flicking a finger in front of its lens to get its autofocus clearing up on his face. He brightened up when the camera finally focused just right! “Attaboy! Now we can finally start recording.”
He’s done his vocal warmups before he started setting up everything and even made sure that the house was nice and locked up and made sure that he doesn’t need to go for a pee break for one to two hours. Those moments are always a hassle and awkward for him and Robin to cut out. Not to mention it’s always a bit of a distraction especially when he is finally in the zone for the camera.
He also has his own lil water container filled with delicious fresh water in front of him, out of the camera’s point of view, just so he could freshen up his voice from all the screaming and yelling that he was about to do. While voice cracks are fun to jump from from a comedic point, it’s not nice to be known as the loudest Irish youtuber who still has voice cracks like a teenager going through puberty.
The phone has been muted and set on vibrate, and the games have been pulled up and listed on his desktop ready for recording!
Today’s video recording theme is… those medical surgery related games.
It had been an idea that had been drifting around his mind for a while but he didn’t have the mental and emotional energy to bother with the vivid reminders of his missing older brother. Maybe this was just another way of spiting Anti for what he had done to him a two days ago in his vulnerable state just like how his sudden burst of energy fueled him to prove that he wasn’t completely useless all alone by tidying up his wreck of a room in the middle of the night.
He knew that Anti seems to have it out for Henrik just as personally as he has it out for Jack since any mention of his brother has the demon hissing and spitting rage which he found rather peculiar since he’d have thought that the demon would be using what he’s doing to Henrik as another one of his taunts and considering he probably has the upper hand over the doctor right now. He stopped mentioning Henrik after that one moment when Anti had gone frighteningly still with his eyes glowing bloody murder towards him and then disappeared for a few hours. When he came back, he was covered in blood and Chase wisely didn’t ask him from whom it came from.
Since then, they never talked about it although Anti’s presence would be unbearable whenever he played any medical related game since it always felt like the demon was breathing down his neck (although knowing his luck he probably did but since he didn’t care enough to turn around and see that horrifying sight he’d like to believe that it never happened) just daring him to mention anything about his beloved doctor of a brother. The only time Anti made any comment about Henrik was literally that postcard hack on tumblr. That was a hell of a thing to open the app to.
He could feel the smugness rolling off Anti’s shadowed corner in waves during that day and he had to stop himself from vaulting over the couch to grab the demon who’s been pestering (severe understatement, he knows but still—) him for months and demand what the fuck he’s planning with the postcard.
Anyway, now that Anti wasn’t here (and thank fuck for that) he’s free to record and post this fun little thing for the channel. Honestly, it’s pretty odd to have the past two days of complete silence from Anti but it was also extremely refreshing and absolutely rejuvenating for his spirit. Oh, he didn’t doubt the ‘Always Watching’ threat from his last note but this was the most peaceful and private he’s been for the past months.
Chase adjusted the headset over his ears, checking to make sure that it wasn’t uncomfortable, before he stretched out his arms and body for the long recording session, releasing a satisfied groan at the obscenely loud cracks that his joints made with the stretch.
Okay… Close your eyes…
Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.
In the next few hours, Chase Brody will not exist. Instead, another man will take his place. How would he react to certain things and events? How would he act out a carefree skit of a parodied impersonation of their resident doctor?
Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.
Turn the chair around and…
Click
Something snaps into place as his lips stretched itself out into a familiar crooked goofy grin at the sound of his mouse clicking. The metaphorical mask slipping over his face felt so much more natural than when it was taken off at this point in time. He swung his chair around and greeted the invisible audience on the other side of the screen.
“Hello and welcome back! I am Doctor Jacksepticeye,” he both recognizes and doesn’t recognize the face that was looking back at him on the recording screen, “and welcome to my ER!”
It was easy, always so so easy to step into his shoes, to become someone who is dearly beloved by so many people, to become someone who has inspired this community to follow him. Every time he slips this mask on for the screen he always experienced this high knowing that for once he won’t be someone who was miserably alone and useless to his loved ones. If he immersed himself deeper into this mask, he could even believe that the people are seeing him and not Jack but that’s a thought that he’d brush off the moment it lingers at the surface of his mind.
However, while it was highly tempting to keep the mask up even by his lonesome, it always faded away the moment the camera stopped and left him far more drained than before he started recording.
Stop. Don’t think about that now.
Chase does not exist at this very moment.
Only Jack remained with that cheerful smile on his lips.
Finally, he allowed himself to fade into the background and push that persona forward to take his place.
In the next blink, Chase closed his eyes and Jack opened them.
0-0-0-0-0
The deep blue sky stretched over the horizon.
It was much too big. Much too hopeful.
It was too much for him who has been stuck in the darkness with no one but Him for company—
No.
No.
Do not think.
Not yet.
Later. Yes, later. In safety. In his family’s safety and warmth.
The door had been unlocked. Why? Why had it been unlocked?
Then he was running, stumbling about in the abyss like a drunk and suddenly there was light—
It had been too bright, too warm on his cold skin that it felt like it was burning his flesh off like the hot po—
No. Regroup. Stop.
Do. Not. Think. About. It.
He ran and ran and ran amongst the crowd, deaf to the rude words that had been tossed towards his way when he crashed into someone and jumped away as if he had been shocked, deaf to the concerned strangers’ questions before he shoved their wandering hands away.
Don’t touch him. Don’t fucking touch him!
It hurts. His eyes hurt. His ears hurt.
It’s so loud. He missed the blissfully subtle static that always kept him company in his cell—
Stop speaking… Stop speaking! Shut up… Shut up. Shutupshutupshutupshutupshutup—
The colors began to shift around him and they… became familiar? Familiar streets. Familiar names.
There was that sound from the annoying dog barking from a neighbor’s—
Ah.
This must be another one of his games.
The front garden was unkempt. Why was it unkempt? There were no flowers blooming from the bushes that looked as dry and thirsty as he normally felt. His little brother loved—loves his gardening hobby. He loves seeing the smiles of the passersby and his family when they see the colorful flowers he’d carefully tend to every week.
Yes, this was just further proof that this was all an illusion. He wanted to scream. He wanted to tell Him to stop this farce. However, he knows that he must continue the show lest He becomes angry for his disobedience once more.
He walked on. There. The front door was in front of him. Instinctively, he reached into his coat’s pocket (since when had he started wearing this coat?) and of course, of course, the key was there.
The door is opened and he is greeted by a cold, silent hou…
No.
Wait.
He looked up. There was a voice. It was faint but there it is.
Which show was he putting on this time? A replay of that fateful day? Or perhaps it was another one of those games where He makes him pretend that he was finally free?
Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.
He walked up the stairs.
One.
Two.
Three.
The fourth door.
The Recording Room.
What sort of cruel joke awaits him behind this door he wondered?
He was tired. So so tired… Perhaps if he pretended to be the brave, cool headed doctor that he had been He would grow bored of this show quick.
Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.
The ice on the doorknob was a welcome sting to his constantly wandering, constantly moving mind. It keeps him still. Keeps him in the moment just like all of the pain—
Take all the shattered pieces of your bravery now, good doctor, and let it all out…
The door was flung open and the familiar—unfamiliar man in the room spun around in his chair and looked up at his heaving, shuddering body with a wide-eyed look. Yes, that face—that impossible face was the face of a comatose man as He often taunted him during their sessions— sat in front of him just told him that this was all just another one of His cruel mind games.
A flash of anger.
A dash of fear.
Then the ridiculous words streamed out of his lips as he pointed a shaking accusing finger angrily, fearfully at the shocked mirage before him.
“I-I am the good doctor,” he started, his voice growing louder to mask the racing, thundering heart attempting to rip itself out of his chest, “and that is my chair!”
“... Henrik?” At that trembling, fragile voice, the mirage shattered and suddenly his baby brother, the one who has always looked up to him like he knew all of the secrets held within this universe… the younger brother who had always, always undervalued his own existence… The baby brother that he so dearly loved was looking up at him, no traces of the impossible man were left behind. “Henrik, is that you?”
And for a second, he allowed his guard to drop, allowing the fragile piece of hope in his chest to wriggle up the surface of his beaten heart.
“Help me,” he begged. His voice was painfully raw and vulnerable as it clawed itself out of his throat.
Then as if he was just a puppet whose cruel puppeteer cut his strings out of nowhere just because he had grown bored of his broken toy, he crumpled forward, all remaining energy in his pathetically weak body dropping to a complete zero, and his legs toppled underneath him. He braced himself to meet the cold unforgiving floor of his cell while his warden cackled at his show of weakness…
But it never came.
Instead, someone caught his body and he was suddenly engulfed in that familiar softness and warmth as two arms gently but firmly wrapped themselves around his bony waist.
“I gotcha… I gotcha big bro. I gotcha,” Henrik closed his eyes and in a fit of broken exhaustion allowed himself to believe in this dream.
“Don’t let this be a dream,” he whimpered. “Don’t… Don’t let me wake up—”
“Shh… It’s not a dream. You’re home. You’ve come home. I promise,” he shuddered at that almost comforting voice and the hand that was stroking the back of his head tenderly. “I’ll still be here when you wake up. I promise.”
Chapped lips were brushed over his forehead and he slipped away into the familiar abyss.
Oh how the good doctor dearly wished that he could remain in this single moment of time rather than face the cruel reality of what was waiting for him the next time he opened his eyes.
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recipe-for-monsters · 4 years ago
Note
🌺 for Rudy!
🌺 What does your OC do to calm down when they’re scared or after a nightmare? Do they have any special comfort items or need to be reassured by a specific person? How do they handle this if they’re alone?
------
When Donner awakens, it’s with a start.
It’s a strange way for him to wake up and a disorienting one at that. Usually, he wakes up slowly and unwillingly, huddling up under blankets and shutting his eyes as tightly as he can manage to try and stave off the coming of morning. Even now, as a full-fledged bull, his mom still sometimes teases him for being such a sleepyhead.
But he’s awake now in the dead of night because something is off. Something is amiss. There’s an anxious feeling churning in his belly, the kind that often told him that wolves were prowling about too close for comfort or that a golden eagle had spotted him from above the clouds and was primed to swoop down on him.
The feeling doesn’t make much sense. He and Rudy are both snug within a stable and while it wasn’t the nicest of lodgings around, they still had fresh hay bedding and plenty of wall hooks to hang up their bags and harnesses and even a little desk to put their things on. They’re warm. They’re safe. There’s nothing to be so worried about.
He worries anyways because his self-reassurances aren’t as comforting as they usually are. It’s dark in here. Too dark to see much of anything. The candle must have gone out. Yeah, that must be what’s causing the nervous feeling. Light was important for keeping predators away after all, even if none were to be found within a stable.
He shifts and unfolds his legs, stretching them out carefully until his hooves clack on the wooden flooring and he can stand without stepping on his little brother by accident. Pressing a hand to the wall, he follows the paneling with trailing fingers, bumping into their hanging saddlebags and knocking a fetlock into the edge of the desk with a sharp clatter and a stifling of curse words. Blindly, he feels for the candle only to find it rolled halfway across the desk after being jostled from its holder. Back into the jar it goes and a matchbox comes out of a pocket sewed into the lining of his sweater.
Donner does feel a bit better once the match is struck and the candle lit. The flame is tiny, but its gentle flickering along with the soft shadows thrown onto the walls are familiar and comforting. It makes him think of home. How long has it been since he’s been home? Since he’s seen his mom and dad? Too long he figures given the sudden homesickness blooming in his chest. Once this delivery is over and done with, maybe they’ll head back towards Knot Hill. Long Night was coming up and there was nowhere else in the world Donner would rather celebrate it than his hometown.
How far are they from home anyways? He plucks his saddlebags from the wall, rummaging through them until he finds his map and spreads it across the desk next to the candle. Everpines is their destination and it would take at least another day or two to reach. About three weeks and some change travel from Everpines to Knot Hill if his calculations are correct and the paths aren’t blocked, and that could be shortened to two weeks if the shortcut through the Singing Spires is clear, but taking that path would involve rock hopping. Risky for an adult and even riskier for a calf. He taps a finger on the paper in thought and looks over at Rudy.
The calf is curled up on his side, half-buried in hay, and Donner snorts at the sight. Of course he fell over. Rudy always fell over in his sleep unless propped against a rock or a sturdy tree or his brother’s flank. Training him to sleep properly, sitting up with his hooves tucked in for the warmth, had been a fool’s errand so far. He was sure to grow up into a leaning sleeper whether Donner liked it or not.
But that fact wasn’t about to stop him from trying to teach Rudy well, no sir. He was a good big brother and as such, he was going to at least get him to sleep on his front. That way, his hooves would be warm.
Abandoning the map and his plans, Donner trots the short distance to his brother and kneels down beside him with a grunt. He lays a hand on his shoulder, shaking him slightly.
“Rudyyy… Hey, Rudy!”
A grunt. A muffled whine as the young bull curls up further.
Donner chuckles. They definitely were brothers, regardless of their separate bloodlines. “C’mon now. You gotta sleep right, remember?” He moves to get his arms more under Rudy, ready to lift him if need be. “Let’s get you up…”
He’s startled when Rudy suddenly rolls over, the bell clipped to his scarf ringing out in the silence, and  clutches at his sweater and buries his face against his elder brother’s stomach. That displaced, nervous feeling takes root again and Donner quickly responds in kind, pulling the calf into a tight hug and gently shushing him as he quakes in his arms and hiccups back tears.
Donner internally berates himself a little for having forgotten. They’ve been so busy working and traveling and playing together that he’d forgotten how difficult the nights could be for Rudy. How his brother would sometimes wake up crying and calling out for his lost mama and papa. How he would, on rare occasions, get up, half-awake and panicking, and bolt outside to look for them and Donner would have to chase him down and bundle him up in the heaviest blanket he had on hand and gently coax him back inside with promises of hot cocoa and maple candy treats.
Rudy can’t get away from him like that again, especially not here. Not in this tiny town that barely had a name, surrounded by a lush, shade-soaked forest. Rudy might get lost. They might not be able to find each other again. His ears flatten against his head and he clings to his little brother tighter, huddling around him as though his bulk could shield them from the bad dreams and the bad thoughts.
“Hey now, it’s okay. I’m not mad. We just gotta get you sleeping proper.” It doesn’t matter that what he’s saying has nothing to do with what Rudy is feeling, he just needs to say something so his brother can focus on it. Can focus on him and not on his grief. “But not tonight. We’ll try again tomorrow, okay?”
It takes a moment, but Rudy nods and gives a quivering, stuttering hum of acknowledgement. The embrace is broken slowly, reluctantly, and only after Donner gives his brother a few hearty pats on the back. Rudy looks a mess of course, all red-eyed and ruddy-faced and still breathing a little funny. He pulls at his scarf, using the cloth to wipe away the tears and the snot, and Donner grimaces and decides that they’re going to have to make a stop to do some laundry tomorrow. They had to follow the river to Everpines anyways.
“You hungry? Thirsty? You gotta be thirsty after getting all that out of your system. Here,” he grabs Rudy’s rucksack, digging around its contents and finding the waterskin buried at the bottom. Pulling it free causes a bone recorder and a few small books to come tumbling out as well. He passes the waterskin to Rudy. “Take a few big gulps. We’re gonna get fresh water in the morning.”
Rudy is a good boy and does as he’s told, drinking deeply as his brother stuffs his things back into the rucksack rather gracelessly and leaving the bag bulging in places. Taking hold of the last dropped book gives him pause. It’s an older title that Rudy picked up from an antique store awhile back and barely put down since. The cover was a faded burgundy and the binding was starting to come loose in places from it having been read and re-read so many times over. “The Little Prince of Rainbows” was written across the front in chipped gold lettering.
He looks over at his brother. “Hey, how about we read for a bit? I don’t think I’m tired enough for sleeping yet.”
Rudy’s ears perk up. “Ca-c-can we? It’s ok-okay?”
“Course! Of course! Put’cherself right here,” He gives his broad side an inviting pat, “I’ll even do voices. Let’s just see if I can find where you left off…”
It’s a little difficult to make out the words and the page numbers with just the light of the candle, but he can make do. Once Rudy is settled and leaning rather heavily against his side with his cheek pillowed on all the fur and fluff, Donner begins to read aloud, grateful that they’re the only patrons of the stable this evening so he won’t be bothering anyone.
The tale is a simple one, full to brimming with tropes and clichés, but Rudy likes this story given how often Donner saw him reading it. Farm boy. Call to adventure. Powerful magic and ancient weapons. New friends joining along the way. Witty, if predictable banter. Thrilling clashes between good and evil. A sappy ending. The whole nine yards.
He uses his own voice for the narration and for the main character, even if it’s too deep for someone so young. He puts on what he thinks is a hilarious falsetto for the rough-around-the-edges witch-in-training that accompanies the hero. He stumbles over a few odd words he doesn’t recognize in the gravelly-toned monologues of the villain, wishing momentarily that his mother were here to explain their meanings. He keeps reading even as Rudy stops shifting around so much and his breathing evens out and deepens because it’s a good story. The kind of story his dad would make up whenever he returned from a long delivery and Donner begged and pleaded to know every last detail of his trip.
He makes the promise to himself then to take Rudy to Knot Hill after this job is completed. Give him some time with a mom and dad that were sure to dote on him just as they had doted on their own son. Surely that would soothe a bit of the pain and the grief. Surely he would be happy to be a part of a loving family again.
Donner reads until the sun is just beginning to peak through the slats of the window blinds and he’s almost reached the end of the book, big plans brewing in his mind all the while.
They’re going home soon. All he asks is that Rudy wait just a little longer.
------
Fin.
(This was supposed to be about Rudy, but I ended up writing it from Donner’s perspective. Rudy relies a lot on his elder brother to comfort and calm him and he keeps his signature scarf on him at nearly all times as it was a gift from his late mother ;w; )
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boyish-writes · 5 years ago
Text
Gone
A slightly different take on what happened after the apocalypse ended 👀
Spoilers obv
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Aziraphale felt his eyes begin to well with tears, standing tall and proud.
He didn’t feel that way... He felt weak and helpless, he wanted Crowley beside him for this.
“Aziraphale, Guardian of the west gate of eden, and-“ Aziraphale closed his eyes, bracing for the impact of the next word. It was something he’d known he’d hear the moment his heart yearned for the demon he kept by his side.
“Traitor”
Aziraphale did all he could not to sob. He didn’t want to fall...dear lord, he truly didn’t want to fall.
He loved his wings even if they were so bright they hurt his eyes, the bright white gave him purpose...
He’d miss the clean smell of home office, like a crisp lemon had been thrown in with a load of laundry.
“You have been convicted of fraternizing with the demon Crowley as well as making many choices that ended up closer to the work of a demon rather than an angel” Aziraphale softly gulped, that sound the only thing going through his ears.
Well, that and the words.
This was because of Crowley...
But that’s not how Aziraphale could think of it. He didn’t care if it was because of Crowley, he loved Crowley whether he told the other or not.
If Aziraphale knew, it was enough to keep him happy.
Aziraphale would have died for Crowley, falling was...just what he was expecting.
He opened his watery eyes and was met by the cold, meaningless smile of Gabriel.
“Goodbye Aziraphale, No one will miss you”
Aziraphale felt his heart sink at the words. Of course no one would.
Aziraphale knew he was easily forgettable, it was a part of his personality.
Hell, for 6 millennia, Crowley and he had only tried to find each other once or twice. He always figured it was because Crowley just forgot about him. As much as the thought of having no true friend on the earth hurt him, he knew it was most likely to be true.
Or it’s at least what had been drilled into him by other angels for thousands of years.
“Anything else you’d like to say before your fall?” Aziraphale felt his eyes begin to water, his heart heavy.
A smile came to his lips, the smallest and most unnoticeable of smiles.
“I’m sorry” He whispered, closing his eyes. He knew he had more to say, he wasn’t sure what but he knew there was something else.
“Oh, that’s absolutely precious, someone hit the button” Gabriel’s voice became a fading thought when the hatch beneath him came open.
It was slow but so fast. His eyes forced themselves open as he watched a small hole of light go farther and farther away.
Darkness, Aziraphale was afraid of the dark...
His wings burst into the plain of existence and he saw the white framing his vision.
“Crowley” Aziraphale recalled a moment when the other had noticed him shifting awkwardly in the darkened main room of the bookstore.
His bookstore...what would happen to it?
“Crowley!” Aziraphale yelled into the darkness again, tears feeling like knives as they ran out of his eyes.
He missed Crowley. He wanted Crowley.
It started to sting at first. Nearly unnoticeable.
Then it burned, all at once with the feel of a million tiny bee stings.
The change wasn’t subtle, it was jarring and utterly terrifying.
The pearlecent white feathers of his wings plucked out one by one and were replaced with coal black.
“Crowley!” He screamed into the darkness, his body beginning to ball around himself as he writhed in pain.
He wanted Crowley, Crowley.
Crowley...
Then it all stopped, his body slamming to concrete quickly as he let out a heart breaking sob.
“Ah, we’ve got another crier, Hastur told us that lil angel of Crowley’s would be one” The voice filled his ears in the same way wasabi filled his mouth with fire.
Beelzebub.
“Come now, angel, You’re one of us now” Aziraphale rose his head slowly and was met by Beelzebub standing over him. He didn’t know what to say, the tears leaving his eyes burning as his wings spread behind him.
“Get up! You’re damn slow” Beelzebub began to get impatient as Aziraphale stumbles to his feet.
This is his life now, he can take it...he can do it.
If Crowley could, so could he.
Aziraphale let out a light whimper as he was pushed to the ground, head hitting the hard concrete.
“You’ll never figure this out, Angel”
He’d come to hate the little nickname. He supposed he wasn’t ‘bad’ enough for the other demons. They’d all killed and hurt and pillaged. Aziraphale barely even liked to see blood, let alone be the cause of bleeding.
“Sorry” He stood and softly fixed the tartan tie he refused to rid himself of.
“You’re so fuckin soft” A hard knock to his jaw caused his teeth to chitter. His eyes watered.
Was this what Crowley had to go through...?
Crowley!
Oh, he’d thought about his demon a million times a day since he’d been down here.
He understood why Crowley screamed at his plants...
“Listen, Angel, Beelzebub wants to put you down on earth to cause some demonic miracles on your own because, well, honestly, you’re a waste of time and space down here”
Aziraphale had heard enough times that he was a waste of space but it stung a little more than usual in that moment.
Maybe it was the realization that heaven nor hell knew what to do with him...
“So get out, no one needs you” Aziraphale didn’t have to be told twice, taking his leave quickly.
Aziraphale felt his heart rush with warmth for the first time in months when he saw his little bookshop. It was just as he’d left it. He stepped forward before he heard the loud sound of things being thrown.
“Crowley” his voice was nearly a whisper as he began to walk faster. He couldn’t get to him any faster.
Of course Crowley would be throwing things, he knew his demon better than anyone else. When you leave Crowley alone and confused for a long enough time, his temper gets worse and worse before he becomes destructive.
“Crowley” he needed it, to see him and to hear him and to smell him. All he knew anymore was the scent of sulfur.
He remembered Crowley always smelled like a freshly put out fire with a hint of lavender. Aziraphale was positive the lavender scent was only because he’d once told Crowley he liked the scent of those flowers.
“Crowley!” He threw the door open and saw a shambled demon in a pile of books on the floor, glasses shattered long ago and yellow eyes filled with tears. He was hugging an old tan, tartan scarf to his chest, one Aziraphale hadn’t worn since the winter.
“Angel?” Crowley’s voice was broken and quiet. He sounded different, hoarse and different. Crowley knew right off something was different with Aziraphale.
The tears in his eyes had a different sorrow. Sure, he knew his angel was a bit of a crybaby but this just seemed...different.
Not to mention something smelled different and it wasn’t like Aziraphale had changed his cologne.
It was...burnt, charred.
“You’re fallen...” Crowley’s words left him quicker than he could think about them. His angel had fallen...
His angel.
The heart wrenching sob that left Aziraphale in that moment made Crowley scramble to his feet and come over to the light haired man he hadn’t seen in nearly three months.
Three months, three horrible, wretched months.
“Angel-“ the word make Aziraphale cover his face, Crowley gently (for the first time in his life, he did something gently) putting his hands on Aziraphales arms. The other cowered, not used to the gentle feeling coming from someone else.
In Heaven, no one touched you. You were left alone, nearly always utterly alone.
In Hell, someone was always touching you. People were always too close for comfort. They were close enough to hit and push and punch and...
“Hey, Hey, it’s alright” Crowley felt like his heart had shattered at the site of his angel like this. He could have killed from the anger that was building in his heart.
“C-Crowley, it’s was s-so absolutely horrid!” Aziraphales tired, broken voice caused Crowley’s chest to ache.
“T-They hit me and t-they-“ Crowley cut the other off before Aziraphale could say anything else, lankey hands running through Aziraphales curls.
“I know, Angel, I know” He whispered, his grudge against his own race only growing as the other spoke.
“C-Crowley, I thought a-about you everyday and I-I never thought I-I’d see you again” Aziraphale took a moment before throwing his arms around Crowley, face burying deep in the demons shoulder. Well...Perhaps they were both the demon now...
“I thought about you too, Angel...” Crowley squeezed the other, wanting him to be as close as possible. Aziraphale was skinnier, almost like he’d nearly been starved. Crowley knew what it was like your first few months in hell, especially for someone of a higher rank.
It was just what it was called, hell. Eighth ring of hell to be precise, the worst it could get.
“C-Crowley...” Aziraphale sniffled and Crowley’s attention moved from his own thought to the angel in grey that stood in front of him. He hadn’t even bothered to pay attention to Aziraphales change of outfit.
“Yes, Angel?” Crowley was gentle when he ran his fingers through Aziraphales curls once more. He didn’t know how else to soothe the angel in his arms.
“I-I’ve needed to say this for some time” Aziraphale wouldn’t move his head from the place it found to hide in Crowley’s shoulder.
“But I love you very dearly...a-and I didn’t know what I’d do w-without you” Aziraphale softly gripped the back of Crowley’s shirt, the tiniest of sobs leaving him as he began to cry.
Crowley’s heart was both so full and so broken. Aziraphale had fallen because of his love for a demon, because of his many mistakes due to Crowley’s mere existence around him...
But the one person he cared about so deeply, cared about him as well.
“I love you too, Angel... I won’t let anyone hurt you again” Crowley wasn’t expecting the other to do what he had. Aziraphale presses against him, pressing a kiss lightly to his lips.
Crowley never expected Aziraphale to even...think about doing that.
“I really...I truly do love you” Aziraphales words hung in the air, his voice had been shaky and scared. He figured if he was going to lose Crowley, it might as well be now and not later.
“I love you too...for all these fucking years, I’ve wanted nothing but for you to do that” Crowley quickly captured Aziraphales lips in another soft kiss, the two melting against each other like they were always meant to be together.
Aziraphale couldn’t help but realize that it didn’t matter whether he was Angel, Demon, or anything between.
He always had Crowley and Crowley always had him.
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gwaciechang · 5 years ago
Text
A Very Pierre Prequel (5/5)
Edit: additional fluff added to fit it into the JBCU on 4/7/2020
Quarantine is breaking my mind. Please help me.
Featuring: edging, multiple orgasms, and cuddles. Also angst, because hello, I’m the Angst Princess.
“Please”
The sound slips out before he can stop it, and you let him see you smile. Only when you turn the vibrator off does he actually cry for the first time in three hours. You’re a little surprised that he managed to last so long, but only a little, because “You’re my good boy, aren’t you?”
He makes a whining, helpless noise in his throat, but he jerks his head in a nod. The praise must help to settle him, because his hands fist in the sheets but doesn’t try to thrust into nonexistent friction.
You wait until his weeping, purple cock settles into something looks a little less ready to burst before you turn the vibrator back on. When he hears the sound, his entire body jerks toward the vibrator, but he stays in place. It’s been a while since you’ve had to tie him up to keep him from moving, something you attribute solely to the increase in his stamina.
“Tell me when you’re close,” you tell him, before holding the vibrator so that it barely touches his balls. The sensation is intense anyway, judging from his howl, and you count to thirty before you start to roll the vibrator around. His throat clicks closed until the only thing you can hear is the vibrator and your own breathing, until-
“Close, ‘m close,” he mutters. When you turn the vibrator off, he lets out a little mew, so you run one hand up his sweaty, heaving side, up his shoulder, his neck, and up to his face. He turns his head to give the inside of your wrist a sloppy kiss, making you smile. It’s an obvious plead for mercy, but it’s also freely accepted affection, so you’ll take it. The lube is nearly gone, but you drizzle a large amount onto your hand anyway. He’s going to need it.
He howls when you press the vibrator against his balls, and the sound dies into a grimace when you bring your slicked hand around his cock. This goes on for a less than twenty seconds before he makes a garbled noise and chokes out, “Close.” You don’t let up, and he starts to frantically writhe in the sheets, trying to hang on to the edge of the cliff with his nails. But you know better.
He’s sobbing, he’s trying so hard, but he’s filled with so much need that it inevitably spills over from his cock, from his eyes, from his throat. You lick the salt off his cheeks before licking the spend from your hand, and his panicked begging turn into amazed babbles. But oh, the night is just beginning.
He starts to shift over onto the wet spot, expecting you to join him in the bed, but when you lie down, he only folds his arm over you, and doesn’t come any closer. Well, you were going to buy another bottle of lube anyway, might as well do it tomorrow than next week. His face is confused when he sees you drizzle lube over your hand, which morphs into smugness as he says, “Haven’t had enough yet?”
“No, you haven’t,” you said without inflection, and the confused face returns. Only confusion, though, not hesitance, so you reach down, and he moves his hips to meet your slicked fingers.
You’re not gentle, but he doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, he’s got a smile on his lips. When his eyes open a few minutes later, there’s only bliss and a little bit of uncertainty. “C-close?” he queries, and you nod for him to keep going. He spills into your hand, and you use it to coat your palm before you keep going. He grunts and leans his head on your shoulders, which makes a flood of warmth roll from down your shoulders. You test the waters by kissing the top of his head. He lets out an indifferent grunt, and your smile dies.
So you keep going. He’s not surprised when you don’t stop, but he does tense up his shoulders. You try your luck again, letting your hand dance across that broad back, and rather than tensing up further, they soften. You try to rub small circles into the back of his neck, which causes him to growl. Well, that just won’t do. You redouble your efforts until he comes a third time.
He’s actively pushing you away now, and you let him roll off of you and onto his own shaky arms. But you reach for him again. He looks at you, and whatever he finds makes him wave his hand in a gesture for you to keep going. So you do. He doesn’t get hard again for ten minutes, during which his dick reddens until it nearly hurts you to look at it. But every time you’re about to ask if he wants to tap out, he has his eyes squeezed shut and his breathless pants are so delicious that you can’t quite bring yourself to.
You go as gently as you can, spending the next hour petting his hair, telling him how sweet he is, and describing how beautiful he looks when he’s been flayed open like this. Pierre spends it sniffling, with tears leaking out of his eyes, until he comes for a fourth and final time. You only notice because his dick is soft and limp in your hands. He’s entirely boneless against you, and he doesn’t protest when you adjust him so he’s lying on his side and you curl up around him. If anything, he’s pressing back with all the energy left in his shivering body. You pull the blankets up to your shoulders and do your best to tuck him in. He tries to muffle little sniffles into his hand, and you pretend to be idly drawing circles around his cheek while he pretends not to notice you wiping away his tears.
No, this isn’t okay.
You press him closer, kiss a knotted scar on his shoulder that you know was hurting today because of the damp, massage the knot on the small of his back until he’s a pliant pile of muscle (well, more of one anyway), and comb your fingers through his hair while whispering praise and promises in his ears. The sniffling doesn’t stop. Now, it’s accompanied by sobs, and occasionally punctuated by protests. But you didn’t put in four and a half hours of work for nothing.
“I don’t know why you’re with me, either,” you say out loud. It takes a second for his brain to catch up, then he tries futilely to wiggle around until he can face you. You put a hand on his shoulder, still rubbing the scar, until he stills again. “No, listen. You are, just, you’re so sweet, Pierre. Not only have I never had to remind you to do the laundry, but you never need me to remind you to hang it up when it’s done. And you’re smart. You think many other guys know how to cook?”
“That’s a really low bar,” well, he’s not wrong. But,
“When you woke up this morning, your shoulder hurt, but you went out and hung the laundry up anyway,” you touch the scar. “I don’t know who hurt you, or why, but I know you’re in pain. And instead of using it as an excuse, you also made me breakfast even though your back still hasn’t recovered from that time you fucked me through the wall. And you do this because you care about me, because you want to see me smile more than you want your back not to hurt, or your shoulder. You do this because you want my happiness more than yours. Is it really so hard to believe that I might want the same for you?”
The sniffles have stopped now, but you’re still almost afraid of what you might find when you turn him over so you can face each other.
Oh.
God, how had you forgotten? Of course he would prefer to see your satisfaction after a difficult performance. Of course he only dislikes being held when he can’t also be holding you. You were so focused on exhausting him into pliancy that you’d forgotten what makes him pliant in the first place.
You reach up and stroke Pierre’s face. He finds some renewed strength to wiggle even more closely into you, until you’re not sure if you’re kissing or just close. It’s nice to just lie here with him, to feel his heart beat against your ear when you lay your head on his chest. He smells like ice cream from the bath bomb, and his hair smells like a cinnamon roll.
“I’ve never done this before,” he murmurs, stroking your head.
“What, cuddle after a bath?”
“Lie in bed,” he answers. Your heart twists in your chest. “Back, um, then, I was up at sunrise with my-my brothers. And with Sheldon Blake,” there he goes again, using names as titles, “I had so much to learn every day that there was no time to relax.” He frowns, so you reach up and smooth it out until he’s relaxed, if not smiling.
“Yeah, that couldn’t have been easy. Is there anything familiar for you?” you ask.
“People are still cruel,” he says absently, then clears his throat. “I recognize the sound of songbirds in the morning,” he frowns when he sees you. “What’s wrong?”
You try and find a light topic to discuss. “Honestly, I’m amazed I can understand you,” you stroke his chest. “I majored in English, so I know you spoke Middle English in the 14th century. And here you are, speaking modern English.” He makes a rumbling noise of pleasure, it’s like stroking a cat. “Did Blake teach you that? It doesn’t seem like him to just do something out of the goodness of his heart.” Maybe this person Blake thought Pierre was, Jaskier, had done Blake a favor, and this was Blake’s way of repaying him. More likely, Blake hoped he could gain something.
“Let’s not talk about him,” Pierre says in a way that means yes. “Tell me, what’s your favorite thing to eat?”
“I don’t really have a favorite. But right now it would be ice cream.”
“Ice cream?” he asks. “I’m sorry,” he blushes, “I’m asking so many questions.”
“No worries, I’m just glad this is a question I can answer,” you pull out your phone to google when ice cream was invented. “Okay, so google says you would’ve known of a treat with crushed ice, milk or cream, and fruit juice. Google being the thing I asked the question to.”
He looks impressed. “Can you teach me how to make it?” he asks.
You laugh. “No, I just buy some at the store. But I’ll make pizza with you.”
“Pizza?” this time, when he asks, he doesn’t look ashamed.
You grin up at him. “Pierre, I’m gonna show you the world. But not on a car-never mind.” You rub your hand up and down his side, and he hisses when you brush too hard against one of the electrical burns on his stomach.
“Shit, sorry,” you shift yourself off to the side. “Let me look at them?” you plead with your best puppy dog eyes.
Maybe it works, maybe he’s just feeling sentimental, but he nods. You’re finally allowed to do this one thing for him, and you’re not about to pass up a chance to make him feel better.
“Laurie, can you get me the antibiotic cream?” you call when you can’t find it in your own drawers.
“Oh no, is he okay?” Laurie comes in, Dixie’s head peeking out from behind theirs.
“Did you know your boss has been burning people when they don’t perform to his expectations?” you ask Dixie.
“Stop,” Laurie’s eyes go flinty.
“It’s alright,” Dixie puts a hand on their shoulder. His other hand is holding the tube of antibiotic cream, and he enters the room. “Mr. Pierre, you work for Blake?”
“I did,” Pierre sits up. “I don’t anymore. I won’t.”
This satisfied something in Dixie, who goes over and whispers something in Pierre’s ear that makes his eyes widen. Pierre nods, and Dixie waves Laurie and you over while Pierre rolls up his shirt. It’s clear the sanitizer from the first aid kit has done a lot to help clean his wounds, but there’s still a way to go. Pierre tenses when your fingers cover the first cut, but he relaxes with a surprised huff when the touch doesn’t hurt.
For the next ten minutes, nobody says a word. Laurie, Dixie, and you pass the tube of antibiotic cream between yourselves to rub onto various cuts, until you’re satisfied (and less likely to burst into tears) and the tube is empty.
“Thank you,” Pierre’s voice shakes. “You’re all very kind, thank you.” He rolls his shirt down and clears his throat before turning his head away. You sit between him and the headboard so he has somewhere to hide his tears.
“Of course,” Dixie sits down on the far edge of the bed. His smile dies when his phone dings, replaced by a much wider, false smile. “Well, that’ll be the boss. I’ve got to run.”
“You can’t stay?” Pierre looks worried. “They won’t let you?” he looks suspiciously between you and Laurie.
“Blake’s upset, it’s not your fault,” Dixie’s hasty to add. “But I’ve got to go smooth some things over.” He kisses Laurie’s forehead. “I’ll be back soon, I promise,” he says in a whisper you’re definitely not meant to hear.
“Well, what do you want to do?” Laurie asks once the door closes with false cheer.
You put on a Godzilla movie and pay absolutely no attention to anything but Pierre’s heartbeat.
*****
*****
*****
Laurie’s phone isn’t particularly loud compared to the monster movie, but it cuts through the noise regardless.
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