#so its hard to put the puzzle together without it looking a little odd. but ill get there | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

eldritch-spouse · 3 months ago

Text

Full: Twitter/X; Postimages

TW: Parasocial obsession; Sugarbaby!reader

[Fem reader]

It's odd to think how things have escalated to this point.

When you started this whole "sugar companionship", "angel" thing, you didn't exactly expect anything to come of it. More of a last ditch effort to bring in some much appreciated side money, and fulfill someone's social needs while you're at it. It would be a win-win situation, right?

You don't remember how Viridis showed up. Probably through DMs in your social media account. You didn't post too much of yourself there aside from a few photos where you felt particularly pretty, and apparently, your taste for finer items showed itself there, enough for you to get hit up by something other than a scambot and creeps.

In his defense, the guy was never rude towards you. He didn't barge in begging for nude photos or demanding attention. Viridis just told you he thought you were gorgeous, and he wanted to see you living the lavish life you deserved.

Before you could even reply, a notification drops, displaying a sum of money transferred to you. The amount was large enough to have you choke on your own saliva, hysterically cackling.

Ever since then, he's been a permanent figure in your life, constantly there through thick and thin, someone you could even call a friend, even if there's a financial power dynamic always involved in your interactions.

It was hard not to get somewhat attached to your "donator".

You got to know each other, after all. You told him about what you do for a living, and he said he was an important figure in the ring of Sloth. You are both single. He's had bad experiences with former girlfriends and feels incredibly lonely. When you felt depressed, Viridis was there to console you, a generous tip accompanying his request for you to "Go cheer yourself up ;)".

And when he felt bad, he'd buy you something, ask you to unwrap it, send him a voice message saying you loved it.

You don't know when that turned into sending him videos saying you loved him.

It feels weird. Kind of wrong. But the more money he blows on you, the more you get to do all the things your finances never allowed before, the happier you are. So what, if he just wants a little good morning text with hearts and a picture of you dressed in the clothes he buys for you? It's puzzling how he got your measurements so right without asking, but maybe he just has an eye for that kind of thing.

Eventually, things escalated to video calls. And you finally got to see Viridis.

He's a surprisingly well-kept imp, with peculiar looking horns and glazed white eyes. Much better than what the morbid side of your brain was conjuring in its growing restlessness. He'd put so much effort into that paid ten minute call, and seemed so gleeful that you'd been wearing an outfit he put together. More than that, once the nervous jitters were shed, he actually made for a great conversation partner- Were it not for the alarm, you two might have spent an hour or more rambling together.

It comes as no surprise that you eventually started doing meal time calls. He'd pay to eat with you through video call, usually dinner time, or during his breaks. He seemed excited about them every time he "booked" these sessions, even going as far as asking what you'd be eating, and if he could pay you to get the exact same type of food as his. How could you refuse?

Viridis would tell you about his day, you'd tell him about yours, and the two of you would quell your loneliness that way. Sometime he'd hint at things he wanted to buy for you, gouging your reaction, waiting for that shine in your eyes. It always seemed to put a glow on the imp's face whenever you thanked him and got bashful over his many contributions.

He'd say I love you, my pretty bijou, and as agreed, you'd say it back to him in a convincing manner.

Viridis' latest idea involves spending his day off, scheduled to match yours, "with you". As usual, he was straightforward with what he wanted, and paid more than you'd reasonably stipulate for such a service. Enough money that you'd be incredibly foolish to decline, for a single day of sucking up to him- It's not even hard to suck up to the demon, he seems to melt pretty easily from the most basic of praise or admiration.

The imp wants to video call a routine he built for you, essentially. From the moment you put on your makeup and fix your hair to leave, to breakfast where he specified, then a shopping trip to whatever locations you desire, taking breaks for whatever needs you must fulfill in between, down to the moment where you get ready for bed, under the covers, and wish him good night.

It didn't seem so bad, if only a little overwhelming given there's a lot more interaction involved. And so far, things have gone pretty well! You can't lie and say that you're not enjoying getting to spend even more money on all your favorite brands, after all. Sure, at least two separate employees asked if you were in a long distance relationship -Something Viridis was all too eager to confirm- But there's hardly been a hiccup besides that.

" Hey, what do you think about these? " You point the camera at a set of dangle earrings, made of a beautiful rose gold and diamond, molded in the shape of three little hearts. You don't mention the price tag, but it's very visible.

The demon, who appears to be reclinging in a balcony of sorts, hums. " They'd look cute on you, I like the pavé on it. Get them. "

" Hold on, there's more- " You shuffle all the bags you're holding to pan over to a different display. " What about these? "

" Sure, but you're getting the heart ones. " Viridis insists, then pauses as you study the differently styled jewelry. " I should get you something with Hell's gold, the color definitely pops more, I think you'd love some of the stuff we have here. "

" Mhmm, I bet. " You absentmindedly respond. " Too bad I don't live in Hell, hah. "

There's a slightly heavier silence for a few seconds as you worry if you've touched a nerve.

" You could come visit, bijou. "

You resist the urge to snort. " Viridis, I- "

" You know I'd pay for the expenses, right? Get you a nice hotel in Sloth, it's one of the calmer rings, and I'd come pick you up so you're not walking around alone. "

The demon smiles hopefully, taking a sip of what you assume must be some kind of sparkling wine. Nothing less dignified in a glass as unique as the one he flaunts.

" You know that's... " It's hard to deny him without outright sounding ungrateful. That's one thing you've been noticing lately, how hard it seems to deny him. " I... "

Your hesitation is answer enough, making him visibly deflate. There's a flash of sourness on his face, though it fades quickly. " I get it. That's a big step. We can talk about it another time. "

Thank fuck.

You leave that store with possibly the most beautiful pair of earrings you've ever owned, proceed to wrestle a multitude of bags into your car -Thankful Viridis can't see you sweat it out- And proceed to fix yourself up in preparation for the dinner call. It's a lot easier to go through than the entire shopping spree was. You're home, it's just the two of you, the same as any other meal call you've arranged.

" Was today fun for you, bijou? " He sighs, ever enamored it seems.

" Of course! It's always fun when I get to shop with you. " It's not even a lie. Painted nails graze over the empty pasta plate when you pick new kitchenware up. " Let me just put these in the sink. "

" Uhm, before that- " The imp interrupts as soon as you stand. " Can I ask you for something? "

" ... Yeah? "

" I was wondering if you could try out what you bought today... For me. "

" On- On camera? " You gulp, suddenly feeling a lot more timid.

" Yes. " Viridis scratches the base of his horn. " I'd just... I don't know, it makes me feel closer to you than just seeing pictures of you with it on. I'll compensate, don't worry. "

You don't doubt him.

Part of you really wants to say no. In the midst of all this, you've never once undressed for him. You've put on risky outfits that toyed with the lines of common decency, but that's not as intimate as this.

Which also means he'll pay well.

Fuck.

No.

Yes.

He's waiting...

" Uhh- Erm- I... Y-Yeah, I guess we can try that after I organize things. "

" Super! " He winks at you. " Call me when you're ready. "

And you do. With some liquid courage in your system and a healthy amount of love for disposable income, you call Jayde with all the bags laid out around your bedroom, and the phone positioned just so that he can see you stand, and the reflection of your back on the tall mirror behind you.

You're shaking lightly, it feels like the first call you had with him.

When Viridis answers, you almost don't know what to say.

He's... In his bedroom. At least you've seen it enough times to recognize it as such. Distinctly topless, however. It's the first time you've seen him somewhat undressed. Maybe he's trying to be humorous, as if saying he's half-naked in solidarity with you. It doesn't stop you from staring at a moderately attractive figure.

" Hey! You ready, sweetie? " He grins with that jagged mouth.

" Mhm, yeah. " There's a clearing of the throat. " Why don't you pick the first one? "

He did, all too eagerly. You were quick to shuffle in and out of clothes, cheeks heated, a tiny smile on your face, hoping you could simply ignore the growing discomfort. The demon looked thrilled every second of the way, and even if you could somehow feel him ogling the generous slices of skin you'd show, he made an effort to keep talking just so you'd have something else to focus on.

It's okay, he's only seeing you in your underwear from time to time. You're just doing him a one-time favor. You can forget about it later.

" I guess that's it! " You pant, spinning again so that the imp can see how the lace looks on the back of the dress he bought you. " Boy, that was a lot. "

There's some shuffling coming from the phone, he seems to be sitting straighter now. " I'm... Pretty sure I got you something else. "

There's a long pause. You almost pretend you didn't hear him while you readjust the fabric on you.

" A-Ah? Really? "

" Yeah, check those bags bijou, pretty sure that's not all. " He urges. You can hear a faint tap. tap. tap. from his side.

Well, you tried.

Viridis isn't lying, there's another set he bought for you. Except, this set, is lingerie underwear.

Throughout your shopping trip, you'd forgotten that the local mall has a lingerie store. It wasn't one you had the chance to go to many times, since everything there is so expensive, and before Viridis came along your wallet would just scream in its vicinity...

Nevertheless, you weren't cautious enough to hide it from the camera, didn't think you had to, only to be proven wrong when the imp calls for you to halt and get in. It was awkward. It was very awkward. But he seemed enamored with a green set. It had floral designs covering plenty of see-through space, framing delicate parts of the body such as the nipples.

It is a lovely garment, you won't deny that. But you know the main draw for him was that it just so happened to be a shade of green which alluded to his username. It was viridian green. You looked it up from mild paranoia, yes. This was even more personal.

He insisted you got that one, specifically that one. And so, you did.

It's right there, on the last little bag.

God fucking damn it.

" Mm y-yeah, now that you mention it, I think there is something left, right. "

He hums, and you try to draw out the search as much as you can, in spite of the fucking thing being right there, practically staring you in the eyes. You return to the camera's field of view holding the lingerie up timidly.

" How could you forget that one? It's probably the prettiest thing I ever bought you. " Viridis swoons.

" ... You think so? Everything you get me is pretty, Viridis. " Distract him distract him distract-

Predictably, he blushes a little, a small 'heh' escaping him. " Jayde. Call me Jayde. "

Your head snaps up. Oh wow, okay. We've reached that point.

" Jayde. " His face lifts visibly. " Ah, thanks. It's very cute. "

The silence that follows is more tentative, unspoken words hanging in the air.

" Glad you think so... Can't wait to see how it looks on you. " He grins wide, reminding you, for a fraction of a second, that you're dealing with a demonic monster.

" Hahah, o-ok, let me just turn the camera- "

" Actually- " Your heart sinks. " I'd like to see you put it on. "

" The lingerie? " A bit of franticness bleeds into your tone.

" Yes. "

" R-Right now? "

Jayde chuckles. " Well, it's the only thing that's left, isn't it bijou? "

You think about it for a couple of seconds, wherein the reality of your situation seems to sink in. Can you truly deny him? You don't think Jayde would have an explosive reaction to rejection, but then again, you never rejected his suggestions before. What if he gets offended? Pulls away entirely? You'll never be able to afford this lifestyle without him.

What if all of this has stopped being in your control, and, in the end, you transferred the reigns to someone else?

He reads the reluctance plainly written on your face.

" ... Just this one time, sweetie. " He coaxes. " You're incredibly beautiful, you know that? I'd give a few fingers to see you. "

He continues to speak over the mental rut you've been thrown into.

" Any man would be lucky to have a jewel like you. I want to keep spoiling you forever. Please, put it on for me? "

You don't know what it was. Perhaps the fear of losing his money, maybe it was the praise, or simply the pure desire to get this over with- But, you take off your top.

The scene isn't sexy or mischievous, you just glance away timidly as you lower the straps of your bra and reach back to unclasp it. Your slowness may be unintentionally teasing him, and from the small glances you steal at your phone, he looks stupidly concentrated, cheeks nearly as dark as yours as he finally -Finally!- Gets to see your tits.

Air catches in your throat, you can't quite tell if it's the thrill of exposing yourself or pure anxiety.

" They're gorgeous... " He murmurs. You almost didn't hear it.

Slipping the new fabric in is easier, the garment is designed with maximum comfort in mind and settles nicely on your chest, especially when you arrange your breasts into position.

" Perfect. " Jayde sighs. " I wish I could touch you. You're so perfect. "

If you weren't running hotter than a steaming kettle before, you are now. All you manage to respond with is a hum and nervous giggling.

" Put the whole thing on. "

There's a full-body shiver when you start taking your panties off. In all your nerves, you fail to remember that the mirror behind you makes it so Jayde doesn't just get a view of your mons, he also gets to stare at your ass unhindered.

" Fffucking- "

He whispers something you don't notice when the fabric drops to the floor, and you lift a leg away to pick it up.

You're sliding the new ones up your bare legs when there's a little too much shuffling being heard from his side. Not a lot, but just enough to make you escape your own internal panic.

You only now realize that you can't see his hands anywhere. One is definitely holding the phone close to him, the other... Who knows. His shoulder shifts.

" Uhm, hahah, what are you doing there? " You jokingly ask, trying to reduce the awkwardness of the situation by insinuating something ridiculous.

The teasing look shatters when he doesn't immediately respond or laugh it off. In fact, he looks like he's been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

" N-!! No way! " You hurriedly fix the panties in place, choking on a breath.

" Sorry- I'm sorry, bijou- " He attempts a wobbly smile, not even denying it. " You just look so adorable flustered. You don't have to see it... Just pretend I'm not... "

Pretend I'm not jerking off, he means.

You can barely raise your voice above a whisper, doing a full turn so he can see how the lingerie sits on your body. Embarrassment has you grabbing your arm and trying to close your legs further, unwittingly flaunting exactly the curves he wants to see.

" You're gorgeous- " He repeats, eyes lidded, something far beyond lust shining in them. " You're the prettiest woman alive. You're sweet, you don't push me away or get spooked. I'm... So happy someone like you gives me the time of day. "

You don't know what to say, don't know what to do besides standing there as a monster audibly gets off on the sight of you in luxury lingerie.

" It's been too long since I met a girl like you. "

You don't quite like the intensity of his stare. Even if no man has ever directed words as flattering as these towards you, it feels like something is too intense about his demeanor.

" Jayde... " You cough. " Are you...? "

" Close. " He admits, laughing breathily. " I've never been this hard before. "

Apparently, he just said it to see you freeze and get even more flustered. " Please hurry up... "

" Are you tired, sweetheart? " His tone is near condescending.

" Y-Yeah. " Anything to speed it along.

" Uhuh, I bet. " Jayde's breathing gets shallower. " You'll go to bed soon, don't worry. "

" Mhm... " God, you're dying inside.

" I love you, bijou. "

Help.

" I... I love you too, Jayde. " You had to drag each word out of your tongue.

That did it. He's tossing his head back and furrowing his brows. You can hear the way Jayde stops breathing to hold any noises in, a groan still makes it through, you hate the traitorous flutter of your pussy that followed.

" I'm... Going to put my pajamas on now. Goodnight Jayde. " You try to break the silence while he recovers.

The expression on the imp's face can only be described as love-drunk, and sweaty.

" Goodnight, sweetie. "

As soon as the call drops, you make an inhuman noise of shame and bury yourself under the covers, kicking shopping bags aside.

It must have been mere minutes before a notification drops.

There's no doubt in you that's the demon's "compensation".

#Jayde oc #yandere monster #yandere teratophilia #monster boyfriend #monster x reader #terato tag #not sfw #minors dni #pinnie's art

286 notes · View notes

floredaqueen · 7 months ago

Note

Any cute blurbs on how the gals became pals?? ❤️❤️

If I'm being honest it went a little something like this--

"Hey!" Nova whispered across the classroom. It didn't catch Isa's attention at first, but when rubber came in contact with her forehead, it bewildered her. The scholar turned her head in response to the small act of violence. Her eye brow arched, alerting the pretty girl across the room of her acknowledgment. Immediately, Isa acknowledged the flush of red on her before she even realized who through the eraser at her. Compared to her, Nova was one of the popular girls. It wasn't that she always hung out with that sort of crowd. She just illuminated confidence and poise that wasn't easy to pull off, and that was a magnet for the popular alike. It helped that she was effortlessly goregous, and that on its own was absolutely intimidating.

For Hawkins' Nova James to be speaking to the biggest nerd in Junior year was a little odd..

"Can you help me with this question..?" She practically pleaded with that embarrassed expression on her face. Isa hesitated, but she scooted over to her, scanning the question she was on before giving her some feedback on what she could do.

And it was like that for a while. Nova just bothering her in class.. but then it turned into taking her time at lunch, at her free period, and somehow Isa ended up at her house...

"You should join us at the sleepover! It's at my house! " The socialite exclaimed in excitement as she gave her intellectual counterpart all the deets and information on the activities they'd be doing. She did contemplate if this was a calculated prank being concocted by her fellow classmate, but the harmless excitement from her under-classmen seemed.. genuine.

A sigh came to Isabela as she stepped up to her massive porch. It was almost as big as the house itself.. who was she kidding, Nova lived in a hacienda. A palace moreso. She heard rumors that she was loaded, but she didn't know if they were true and she couldn't tell with the cheerful girl's wardrobe. It was zaney and colorful but well put together regardless. She should've guessed when she caught a glimpse of a diamond entrusted set she sported all through yesterday. As she stepped in, Isa took into account all of the marble, pearl, shimmy anything across each floor plate, counter, and table. The wall itself was a conforming slate grey color that turned a light umber as it was luminated by the lit candles. In the living room, Isabela found Nova on her lonesome, sporting her best pj's, and a pair of all the other girls to wear folded bedside her.. but none of the other girls were here. It was just Nova.. and Isa.

The latina hesitated to say anything, understanding the situation even more so with the devastated look plastered on James' pretty features. The only thing she could do was make herself known, and with that, Isa Wheeler came from behind the couch.

"Hey! Thanks for having me! And sick house!" Isa coixed with a smile as she sat herself down next to the slightly sorrowful Nova. Quickly though, she perked up at the sight of someone showing up.. especially since she assumed it was the girl who hated her the most. To tell the truth, it was envy more so than hate. Isabela was envious that Nova could get whatever and whoever she wanted without lifting a manicured finger. Everything she did was effortless, and she was freespirted all the way through whatever process she went through.

On the opposite side of the spectrum, Isabela worked hard to get where she was. Good grades, good posture, proper manners, slim figure, pretty face. All those things she earned and learned. Tonight was that night, she realized none of that mattered. They got mani-pedis, did crossword puzzles, on Isa's ask, talking about boys and all the relevant chismé. Isa learned how sweet and sensitive Nova could be, and Nova witnessed how caring and considerate Isabela could be all the same.

"So why aren't the other girls here..?" Isa asked as she set a king of spades down. She watched as Nova hesitated to answer, only setting down her heart-shaped card before she answered.

"Chrissy was sick before she could make it.. but the others.." The admired gal scoffed, shrugging sharply as she watched Isa toss another card down.

"I don't know - I guess we didn't click like I thought we did.."

"..we click," the studious girl mumbled, offering a warm smile right after. It made Nova beam... that was until she realized she was losing at Go Fish. She exclaimed with a pout, Isa giggling in response as she steadily eased into her winning streak with a wry chuckle while Nova cursed at her an intricate eye.

"You're alright, Wheeler.."

Her words contorted Isabela's lips into a goofy smile. The smile turned into a laugh between the both of then as big brown doe eyes watched the popular not-so popular gal deal them in once more.

"You're alright too, James."

#stranger things #original character #stangerthingsoc #ocs #friendship #ask #asks #thanks for the ask!#idk how to tag this #tryna kiss you

23 notes · View notes

kidrunaway · 1 year ago

Text

I'm surprised that as the number one rk fan I haven't posted a small analysis of him yet but here we go

So what we know from RK so far is barely anything at all but it's clear he wants to escape with people together rather than alone.

of course if that wasn't clarified I would most likely interpret it as him using the nomes to get further without giving 2 shits about them, but because it's canon, thats not rhe case. that doesn't mean he doesn't defend himself though. He will kill/harm others in order to defend himself (n this is why a lot of the times where I see comics of him getting bullied i get pissed because thats NOT him.) he does seem to defend himself several times throughout the game and will harm others in order to protect himself. What's unique about him is that not only do we get a view of what's happening all the way down at the maw, but his story compared to the other stories has a much more different vibe to it. With mono and six it was very hectic. RK seems to be the only kid that doesn't outright have a chasing scene the same way Six or Mono does (The guests, The doctor, the teacher, that kind of chasing scene.) The only thing we really have is the little battles of him defending himself. he gets chased by the lady for the last bit, and I think that part truly shows WHY he didn't have any chase scenes. I'm sure he was panicking when the lady was chasing him, and when you're panicking, it's very common for people to get impatient. So when he gets caught by the lady, he desperately tries to get away, having the lady basically haunt him from each corner. he goes into a room at some point with a broken mirror and you know if he stood hidden in there or was patient enough to just wait a few seconds or avoid going to the door that opened for him, he would've most likely lived. but being the kid he is, out of curiosity, he goes to where the lady opened the door from. He seems to be a curious little guy. I also wanna mention that he is really smart and it's overseen by the Fandom a lot. We know that Six is smart that's canon, but let's not forget that RK literally solved THE LADYS PUZZLES. I'm sure the lady wanted her puzzles hard enough for not anyone else to figure out, prior to the figures being placed in odd places to take and put on a statue, and extreme puzzles that were even hard for me, he figured it out. it's amazing. And he's invaded the lady's space so much that not only did he finish all her puzzles but ALSO find out her secret. So RK is pretty curious, gets impatient when panicking, and smart on top of that.

Could be a stretch, but truly, in this fandom everything gets stretched so why not 🤷‍♂️

One thing about his story that makes me think a lot are the shadow kids. Although you can usually hear giggles and whispers in the game, if you listen close enough, they will say actual things! (What upsets me though is someone figured this out way before I did and while I went on YouTube to find voice clips I saw the video of the girl that posted this 😭 its only fair if I credit her she's called SPILLTHETHEORIES, watch her video its informative!)

Here's what they say just in case you're curious.

"But there was a difference before."

"You're a goner. Goner."

"Hello there"

"Do you hear her singing?"

"Her intentions were to follow"

"Of course they were/yes she does (?)"

"But that can't be right"

"Its about time it was talking."

"Its looking with Its sight."

"Until six..."

37 notes · View notes

moonstone27ls · 1 year ago

Text

Harley Quinn problems (Tv wise)

Sooo...looking at this season. Well for me the problem is still the series. Not so... look not gonna apologize if I offend someone. I'm literally allowed to have an opinion on the show/writing etc.

So as season 4 ep 7. The show itself is average. Not the best but also not the worse. The series as a whole has some funny haha moments. Butttt it kinda tries to hard to be "woke". But that being said its a hella lot more entertaining than Velma's spinoff.

But its not without problems. One of which... is how the heroes are portrayed. Yes I know its comedy/satire/and also I know this is aimed for the villains. But they have the heroes featured in here. And their role ranges from comedic to down right incompetent at their job. Thats not to say I expected them to be gods/or perfect. No I can see some of the antics the show put the heroes in as real. Batman having issues at communicating with Gordon (season 1). When Batman got jumped by Ivy and Harley on live TV, and most of the heroes either just watched or in Superman's case just shrugged. Cause yeah they've been at it long enough to say "heh he's fine".

Even both Batman and Nightwing had trouble accepting help/change. Nightwing having freak outs cause he didn't get it perfect (season 2) and yeah definitely found it believable that he had a fit over losing his weapons. I can even believe that Wonder Woman fell for a Harley disguise as a fellow amazon.

Then the writing takes biggggg drastic turns. Batman/and heroes did nothing when Joker killed a celebrity on live TV. Amazons came to Ivy's wedding, thats not odd. Whats odd is technically they're in Wonder Woman's alignment aka considered good. So when the villains are killing the police they just do nothing.

Heck Batman spiraled over a breakup and brought back the dead. Did Alfred stop him? No. Did Nightwing or the Justice League? I mean zombies are hard to ignore. When Nightwing's murdered they literally DO nothing. They come to a funeral and go home.

Any other variation they would have stuck their nose into Bat business and offered Batgirl comfort/aid or an ATTEMPT of helping. Batman is literally in jail and NO ONE hero wise is questioning/attempting to help? Batman didn't even attempt to come to funeral. And you can't say "its jail". They let Alfred out. And importantly the show went on the "the rich are given better privileges" . So its not out of logic that Batman should quit djaying and attempt to look for what was like his second son's murderer.

Alfred is literally spiraling/suddenly clinging to being near Bruce and none of the Batfamily tried to stop or help him. I just am puzzled since the season before. Alfred seemed to be given a change as a character doing the hero thing while Bruce is in a coma. How did that go from being a hero to "can't be 5 minutes away from him". I mean yesh why didn't Superman even attempt to ask "Alfred why are you in an orange jumpsuit?".

Another problem is how they're treating Gordon. Again I know comedy/satire etc. I don't even mind if Gordon's very flawed. Season 1, yeah pretty much described him. Freakin' tired from the job. But as the series goes on they kick him always to a lower point. As I said I don't mind him flawed I can believe he was a shitty dad. Being a cop/and literally being in gotham. Its just kinda believable that became his focus instead of Barbara(daughter not wife). Butttt I wanna say it was season 2. I thought they were give him some development and turn his life around. But season 3-4 just kept kicking him lower and lower. And at some point making him the punching joke was a little too sad to watch.

I was hoping he would get his life together and he would have a Lupin/Zenigata kinda thing.

Third is sometimes the villains. Heh sometimes. Trying to think, uh sometimes it feels like they go a little too hard to make them evil. I dunno season 4 with the Legion constantly killing staff. I mean the starfish things killed a dude for stepping on their toes. I'm "a little overkill?". Even a few times they do it just cause they want to. I dunno hard to explain just feels like its not needed. They are literally fighting good guys. We don't need it so obvious sometimes. The other part in regards to villain is Joker himself.

He's... mixed for me. Particularly how he's been given a new girlfriend and "loves" those kids. I dunno for YEARS and I do mean years I've heard fans complain about how Joker treated Harley. So just because they're ripping off Venture Bro vibes they feel Joker deserves a happy ending with a wife and kids? I .... I dunno. And no I don't care if it humanizes him. He's literally suppose to be the most evil character, and we're suppose to suddenly like him cause he's got kids.

Just nope. Not feeling it. The show is not Venture bros and hasn't gotten to that level in my opinion. So Joker can not pull a "Red Death". Because from recent eps he's and his story have no merit to it. Joker goes evil and his girlfriend is okay with it.... but from what the show is giving his girlfriend isn't evil. A bit aggressive if she's physically threatened but I wouldn't deem her evil. She wants her children as far as I can tell to be good.

If the show had shown her aggravated for her lifetime of being good. Even and I hate to say it, show her even snapping at work as a nurse. Fine I could believe it. But she's suddenly okay with her children encouraging murders. And wanting to murder a person who is rude to her at the checkout line oO. By all accounts she should be arguing with Joker, telling him she doesn't want her children to be sadistic killers. She should even want compromise.

Heck Red Death is the best example. He's evil at work but separates it from his homelife. His little girl isn't evil. A bit bullyish? But she acts like a normal child. His wife wasn't evil and treated his arching like work. She even wanted a compromise to cut down his work. And he was trying to by becoming a guild member. Thats more entertaining then whatever the hell Joker is.

Anything else... uh dunno. I mean the rest of the show/season is kinda of predictable. Harley/Ivy having conflict due to jobs. Gotta work it out and I think they will. The clone thing is probably different. Uhh kinda wonder what Nora Freeze's deal is. I know she was a villain's wife but she's not very evil. Just there. Sometimes selfish but thats it.

#harley quinn series

4 notes · View notes

thatneilj · 3 years ago

Text

Game of the Year 2021

Originally posted January 2022

How has it been a whole year already? I know every year feels faster the older I get, but this whole “never leaving the house” thing really crunched 2021 into a mess in my head. Not to mention the bit of crunch I felt in my wallet! Speaking of which, I had a pretty tough time getting to all the games this year I would have liked to. That’s ok though, because with the little extra curation, I also managed to play almost exclusively games I really enjoyed this year! So without further ado, enjoy my favorites from this year!

Honorables

Phantasy Star Online 2 New Genesis

I spent way more time with this game than it deserves, given the aggressive monetization model. That said, the core action gameplay is fun as hell, and (ironically) the slow release of new content never made me feel like I needed to engage with the rough edges. I still find it very silly that New Genesis is part of PSO2, considering the completely new gameplay and separated economy. I guess bringing those cosmetics over is a big selling point?

Beast Breaker

Beast Breaker really surprised me by building ever so slowly into a story about struggling to do good in a dying world. I loved the cast of characters, the billiards-ish gameplay, and even the pre-combat preparing phase. Unfortunately I found that despite how powerfully the seriousness of the narrative hit me, it felt like it was at odds with the attitude the visuals and music bring to it.

Outer Wilds: Echoes of the Eye

Over the last couple years, Outer Wilds has continued to be an experience that sticks with me. All I could think when I heard they were doing a DLC is, “How?” While the DLC does end up extremely sectioned off and doing its own thing, that thing is (mostly) awesome. The amount of mystery they fit into this small space is fascinating! That said, there is one section in this DLC that is absurdly frustrating, to the point that I thought I was just doing something wrong. Because of this section it’s not as good as the original game, but it still ended up being an excellent experience.

5. Guilty Gear Strive

I feel a bit weird putting a fighting game on my top 5, but I also consistently played Guilty Gear Strive through the entire year. I just love this game. The music absolutely rocks, the visuals are pretty as hell, and the netcode is just about best-in-class for consistency, compared to the other big fighting games out there. While there are definitely some rough spots in the lobby experience and some tweaks to balance could be used (#BuffAnji), the support Arcsys has shown beyond the new characters gives me faith that the smell of the game will only continue to get better.

4. Inscryption

Inscryption has all the vibes of a creepypasta while delivering a wild, multi-layered metanarrative about the nature of the very game you’re playing. It’s silly, it’s hard to take seriously, and it ends up feeling very messy. Yet the way it oozes with style gives you a lot to love. But that isn’t how this game broke into my top 5.

It got there because underneath all of that spooky stuff is a solid card game and a bunch of puzzles that feed in and out of it in really cool ways. The escape room-like puzzles test your understanding of how the card game works, rewarding you with cool new tools. Then the card game finds way to reward you for breaking all these rules you’ve come to understand. And the way the ending ties everything together is so fun and exciting!

As much as I want to say more this is a game that will definitely have a bigger impact the less you know going in. So just go give it a shot!

3. Axiom Verge 2

The original Axiom Verge managed to be a love letter to classic Metroid games while simultaneously breaching through to a whole unique and interesting world begging to be further explored. This prequel finally gives us the jump back into that universe with a new protagonist and a look at some of the events that lead to the world of the first game. While I didn’t end up finding the game as a whole quite as captivating as the first game, it did strike out much further from the roots that inspired the original.

The way this game turned basically all the bosses into optional challenges is cool. The places where it fills out much of the lore from the first game is fascinating. But the thing this game does that truly shines for me is how, through the gameplay, it leans into the themes of transhumanism. The farther I got into the game, even with the all the upgrades to my “human” self, I would always default to another form. A form that better fit into the world I was inhabiting. Despite the ways in which I found the primary narrative lacking, the gameplay explored the theme so successfully, I came away loving this game.

2. Monster Hunter Rise

I was very lucky that my most anticipated game of the year released in March. I spent hundreds of hours playing Monster Hunter Rise this year, and it was always a blast. The whole game overflows with Japanese theming from the aesthetics of the town to the Shigin inspired monster intros. Even the new monsters are modeled after yōkai from Japanese folklore!

While the Monsters really are the stars of this game, what shot it up here near the top comes from the gameplay. The core of all 14 weapons (except Hunting Horn) is straight out of the previous game, but the addition of the Wirebugs and Switch Skills create even more ways to customize your playstyle. The game is also full of quality-of-life improvements like the removal of hot/cold drinks, greatly simplified pre-hunt meals, an always-populated mini-map, and so much more. Best of all, it is SO MUCH EASIER than it was in the last game to get your friends into a lobby with you and just go hunting together.

Now I must admit that all of this does add up to making Rise feel a bit more like “Monster Slayer” than “Monster Hunter”, but the sheer volume of improvements makes it well worth it.

1. Metroid Dread

When Metroid Dread was revealed during the summer, I was worried instead of excited. Don’t get me wrong -- Nintendo finally saying the word “Metroid” again was exciting. But what they showed was a classic 2D style from the same developers as Samus Returns. That game profoundly disappointed me not only because it was a remake of the weakest game in the franchise, but because much of what they added managed to make the game worse than the original. And this is coming from a guy who eats exploratory-adventure games (metroidvanias) like candy.

Dread went far beyond meeting my hopes and expectations though. With this installment they manage to perfectly walk that line between classic and modern. Moving through the world and finding the environmental puzzles feels like it did back on the SNES. Modern sensibilities in level design create a flow that helps you understand where the game wants you to find progress, even without explicit waypoints. And I haven’t even mentioned how well they foreshadow bosses through the pretty backgrounds, or how fucking good most of those boss fights are!

All this gushing aside, the game does have a couple of weaknesses. I have a few complaints with the controls being needlessly unintuitive. I also think the E.M.M.I. zones fail in delivering chase or stealth sequences that are enjoyable. But none of that is bad enough to get in the way of what makes the game shine.

Nostalgia might be a hell of a drug, but Metroid Dread reminds me why I got those feelings for the series at all.

0 notes

ghcstales · 9 months ago

Text

closed for … @covcrt where … sentinel electric headquarters when … ten thirty o'clock

ever since the grand event had started, the hours began to mingle together and despite the darkness outside, it was hard to tell how late it really was. no care from others was shown regarding that, thus adair did not even try to bring such silly topics up to anyone. many, from the looks of crowded dance floor, were enjoying themselves. others, if not by dancing, were spending their time at the bar. for a little while adair too, managed to find stillness in the midst of chaos that had already taken over the place and its guests. and although that had covered most of the attendees, there were a few outcasts. black sheep, if you will. a few that didn't feel the vibe of the evening or simply decided to not partake in the silly game that so many power hungry individuals were obssessed with so much.

❝ enjoying yourself? ❞ the agent inquired without peeling their eyes off the dance floor upon sensing a familiar restless presence enter their space. ❝ hope you did not give into their persistent nagging about finishing these... drinks. ❞ or whatever those were, they thought. adair tilted their head towards the table next to them and a couple full glasses of what seemed to be champagne resting on top of it. just then, as if lightning had struck from the sky above, did adair come to an odd realization ― just how many times they had missed out on properly greeting their colleagues. well, some of them. those they respected enough to put effort into welcoming. ❝ hi [ ... ] ❞

they added after turning around enough to face the other. eliot was one of good guys in adair's book, after all. thus, it made sense for adair to treat them like one in hopes of him eventually connecting these puzzle pieces together.

#mercyorg:eventone #♯ ⸺ « adair blythe. » … ⌜ conversations. ⌟#＊ ⸺ discussion. … ⌜ adair & eliot nowak. ⌟

1 note · View note

falling-pages · 3 years ago

Text

Bend the Knee: Kyoya x Reader

Thanks @ouranbound for the idea <3

“I fear I’ve been so busy planning our future that I did not give time to notice how they were exploiting your present."

Sometimes Kyoya's betrothed needs help adjusting from their commoner life to one of splendor.

Kyoya Ootori x gn! Reader

Genre: Fluff, established relationship, arranged marriage, Commoner! Reader

Warnings: None

“Quit.”

“What?”

“Quit. You complain about that job every night, so just resign.”

You sit up on the couch, gasping to even begin to make the young heir understand how preposterous his words were. He barely even noticed, just kept his eyes glued to his novel as you were having a crisis. Just another normal Tuesday in this household. “I can’t quit just like that, without two weeks’ notice.”

“The other employees did.”

“But I’m their best,” you scramble, “I can’t bail while they’re still looking for two more people.”

Kyoya scoffed, licking his fingertip and turning a page. “Is that how they treat their best? Overworked and underpaid? They don’t sound like very good bosses to me.”

“It’s not that, it’s…”

It was that. It was exactly that, which made his smug smile all the more frustrating, igniting that fire under your nails to just punch his lights out. But then you’d have to admit it’s bothering you, and he would win, and even though you were engaged to marry this man, you just couldn’t have that.

You ran your hands through your hair, dropping back down onto the couch. His office futon wasn’t comfortable in the slightest, perhaps to discourage relaxation during work hours, but it’s what you dealt with in order to spend time with him in the evenings, a change you would certainly implement once your name was on the deed and in the will--a revamp of his working space was imperative.

But you supposed you couldn’t complain. It was your little life together, where he manages a multi-billion dollar empire and you whine about your job, where he pretends to not pay attention while you spill your guts. What was the sense in commenting when he knew you wouldn’t take his advice?

“I’ve worked hard for this position,” you settle on, closing your eyes and letting your brain do the work. “I’ve climbed the ladder and gotten promotions and I used to feel so important, and it isn’t my dream job, sure, but I’ve enjoyed the process.”

“Then it’s time to move on to something different,” he suggests, and his tone is softer than usual, though still careful to sound detached. “You know I have more than enough money to provide for you and our family someday. Is that not enough?”

You open your eyes when the voice sounds closer, right above you, and you see him kneeling down beside you on the couch. You start to sit up, but he pushes you back down, helping you stretch out your spine, shake out the stresses in your limbs. And when he takes your hand, drawing his long fingers over the arch of your wrist and against your palm, you were startled to see him at eye-level.

Kyoya Ootori bent his knee to no one except you, and only once, when he slipped that pretty gold ring on your finger. But here where you lay, your faces were on the same level, and you felt like an equal.

“The world I come from isn’t black and white, Kyoya,” you say, as he strokes the back of your knuckles. Such tenderness was seldom seen from him, but you revel in it, grasp onto it with dirty fists and brazen recklessness. To have him so attentive to your needs and listening to you was rare. It was a privilege, a standard you would soon be held to, as well. “To be just...launched into fame because my dad won the lottery is hard, I still need to adjust. It can all be gone in a second, so I can’t just drop something. I can’t...sever the safety net. They need me to keep the place afloat, and even as tough as it has been, I can’t leave on such bad terms. They need me. Just for a little bit longer.”

He sighs your name like the afterthought of a prayer, settling his other hand beside you on the couch. His fingers dig into every indentation, as if joining your discovery of its stiff cushions. The sheen in his glasses signaled he’d look into it, but there were more pressing matters to attend to at the moment.

He remained silent, odd for a man with all the answers, but he continued to look at you, not like he was trying to drill a hole through your head, but like you were a puzzle he was just beginning to figure out.

“Have I really been so absent, my love?” he whispered, raising his hand to your face. One finger stroked along your cheek, slowly, lulling you into peace. “I fear I’ve been so busy planning our future that I did not give time to notice how they were exploiting your present. Please, forgive me.”

All of the air was knocked out of your chest as his gentle words, so soft that you almost didn’t recognize him. When your parents betrothed you, and when you fell in love with him, agreed to marry him, even, you knew that he would always be an Ootori, with every string attached. You were ready for the challenge, ready to be with this man no matter what--but his sudden kindness was unexpected, the poetic words unfamiliar in your ears.

“Kyo, you think I wouldn’t forgive you?” you ask, taking off his glasses.

He let you, and when you set them on the nearby stand, his dark eyes glittered with something you had never seen before. Deeper than love, deeper than compassion, a feral protectiveness mixed with sadness skating across his face. It was so rare you saw him without this shield of his, you had almost forgotten how his eyes were like galaxies, like the murky night sky, expansive, swallowing everything in its path.

“If I had been suffering so, I wouldn’t forgive my partner had they not noticed,” he said.

“I’m not suffering...”

“Mmm-mm.” He shuttered your lips closed with his finger, and you couldn’t help but return the affection and press a kiss to it. He smiled, softly, and you thought about how long it had been since you had seen that smile, and how long it had been since he’s seen yours, too.

“I know I’m not the best at expressing my feelings,” he said, and when you snorted, he rolled his eyes and leaned away. “See, this is exactly why.”

You leaned up and kissed his cheek, giggling. The feeling was foreign in the pit of your chest, drumming near your spine. “I’m sorry. Please, continue.”

“Thank you.” He cleared his throat, softly wiping where you had kissed him, a repetitive, soothing motion. “I’m not the best at expressing my feelings. I’ve been raised to think that if you throw money at something, it will go away. It’s a powerful position to hold, knowing you can change everyone’s fates on a whim, but…” he swallowed, breaking eye contact, and you felt his energy shift into something vulnerable. “But you changed that. You make me feel...you make me feel. And at first I didn’t like it. I loved you, but I didn’t like what you did to me. I didn’t like how you made my world shift off-balance, until I realized my world was no longer my family’s company or stocks or what other stiffs thought of me. It was you.”

You tried to lean up and kiss him, but he grabbed your hands and held them in his own. “Please, let me finish, I want...I want you to know. We’ve been betrothed for so long, but I’d like to think we were only truly engaged when I bowed to you with that ring.”

“Okay,” you breathed, shallowly, taking it in, squeezing his hands to help him along.

“Because that took everything in me,” he continued, and his voice shook, his hands shook, and all you wanted was to gather him in your arms and hold him till he relaxed. “I was raised as a superior, but I’m not. Not with you. You are my equal, and I love you, and there’s no future with us if I can’t look beyond my own problems to see yours.”

Your stomach quelled in light of his confession. The life of luxury and fame you had so recently come to know was a blur compared to his childhood swathed in privilege. Only six years ago you were waiting tables to save up for college when your dad bought a lottery ticket for the hell of it. Now you were attending charity balls and engaged to the son of the richest man on earth.

He took a shaky breath and kissed your forehead, seeming to only find the courage once his lips met your skin.

“I notice. I swear I do,” he said. “I tried to act disinterested when you vent to me because it was a protection, it was a way to stay cold, because that was all I ever saw from my mother and father. They were separate people who happened to live in the same house. That’s not us. I’m not my father. I swear I notice. I notice your tired eyes and your tense shoulders and your fake smile and I want to fix it, but I don’t know how, so I clam up. I shut down. And I’m sorry. I truly am, my darling. I don’t know how you put up with me.”

It was an absolute miracle that you could even breathe at the end of his speech, panting almost as heavily as he was. And when you leaned forward to kiss him, this time he didn’t object, but pulled you even closer, shrouding your body with his, his sharp scent overwhelming your senses, clouding the air around you, even when there was no distance between you. His mouth was hot with passion, yet reserved, and though it wasn’t the first time you kissed, it was the first time you thought he meant it when he told you he loved you.

“Kyoya, I love you,” you whisper against his lips. “I have for so long. I wouldn’t have stayed with you if I didn’t, no matter what our parents said.” He laughed, nipping your bottom lip lightly. “And I don’t want you to change for me. You’re under so much pressure, I understand why you act like you do. But our home isn’t Wall Street. My heart isn’t some business bargaining chip. You don’t need to fight your nature to love me. It’s one and the same.” One of his tears splashes down onto your face. “So just see me. Love me. Choose to be vulnerable. I promise it won’t scare me off.”

“I will. I promise.”

He kissed you again, burning his brand against your tongue, hard like a handshake to know he meant it. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer, like you were breathing the same air, using the same lungs, the same heart beating in tandem.

When you let go, his forehead remained pressed against yours. His eyes were slightly open, watching you, eyelashes fluttering against your skin. He was so soft, like this. You wanted to hold him forever.

“Come to bed with me,” you whisper, trailing a hand through his hair. “I just want to spend time with you.”

He kissed your forehead, rubbing his nose against yours in compliance. “I’ll spend all the time in the world with you, beloved,” he sighed, capturing your lips once more. “For as long as you’ll have me.”

Kofi

#ouran high school host club #kyoya ootori #kyoya x reader #kyoya ootori x reader #ohshc

950 notes · View notes

djarrex · 3 years ago

Note

So I was wondering, how was rex and reader first kiss, and also the first time they’d slept together? I loved that story about how they met!! I’m genuinely curious

!!Yessssss :’)

Ok, so for anyone who hasn’t read their first meeting/first date, I’ll link it here. Previously, I had included a little bit of their first date in one of the main installments/chapters as a flashback scene during Priya’s birth and you can find that here.

Find the rest in the Post-Order 66 Rex ML

I’ll pick this up from when they’re riding in the taxi on the way to reader’s apartment (from flashback scene found in second link)

18+ only! dry humping, heavy makeout sesh, groping, non-descriptive sex, piv sex, maybe just a hint of ‘first time’ awkwardness but... y’know. overall, Rex is a caring sweetheart. about 2.9k words #Carried Away

<<<>>>

The back of Rex’s hand, the gauntlet plate, that is, lands on your bare thigh - his gloved palm upright and waiting, fingers relaxed. You can’t help your wide smile that grows upon noticing the gesture accompanied by his unsure, yet confident expression as you gladly lay your hand within his - fingers locking into place.

"Is... this okay?"

So considerate, appropriately cautious, cute.

You lock eyes with his, making it a point when your tongue barely darts out to wet your lower lip while giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. His lips curl at the corners - a little chuckle seeping through his nostrils before turning his head to watch the streaks of lights fly by outside the transparisteel. The ride isn’t very long, but it’s nearly silent. It must be late enough for the driver to have long surpassed the point of wanting to engage in light conversation, thankfully so, and the music is turned down to the lowest volume - just light pulse of a beat coming from the tiny speaker. The whir of the vessel gliding through the air lanes hums throughout the interior, along with the heavy beat of your heart in your ears. Your fingers stay intertwined with Rex’s the entire time. At one point, briefly, his thumb started to absentmindedly brush back and forth over the thick knuckle of yours, and caught himself when the the taxi slowed to halt as it pulled in front of your complex.

Rex scoots out first - extending his hand towards you and helping you out of the seat and onto the duracrete. As you lean into the taxi’s opening to toss the driver some credits, Rex watches the way you move - the way even the miniscule muscles flex underneath your form-fitting dress and with the movement of what skin is exposed. A sudden breeze catches him off guard when that familiar scent of lavender coming from your hair hits him just like it did back on the dancefloor. His own heart is pounding uncontrollably beneath the protective shell of plastoid, though he’s sure you can hear it. Your hearts mirror one another’s tonight - anxious, eager, sure, ready.

It's quiet after the taxi speeds off. It's late, and the two of you stand just outside the complex entrance in silence, facing one another and staring deep into each other's eyes. There’s a whole bunch being said, without any words actually being spoken. It’s insane the way Rex is just pulling you in without laying so much as a finger on you right now; his gravitational pull is far too strong for you to resist, not that you’re trying to resist. You want to get dragged into his orbit, burn up upon skirting through his atmosphere. That connection... it’s so noticeably there and it’s making your legs weak - weight settling in the back of your head, pushing you forward and closing the space between your faces. You know it’s affecting him just as it’s affecting you. There is no escape, though neither one of you is trying to flee.

“Is... this o-”

Rex is unable to echo his question from the taxi once the remaining space between the two of you quickly vanishes. When your lips meet his for the very first time, something just clicks - like two missing pieces from a puzzle that you didn’t even know were absent have just come together and completed it, effectively ending its drawn-out hiatus. You’re sure there are better analogies out there with deeper meaning but it’s hard to think with how wrapped up in him you’re becoming with something as simple as a ‘first kiss’. Your arms flying to wrap around his neck, Rex pulls you closer - his fingers gripping the fabric at your hips and holding you close. A heavy breath escapes from him and you take the opportunity to poke your tongue out to be immediately greeted by his own. It’s medium-paced; not desperate nor casual. The dance you share with the light clashing of teeth, the rhythm that’s set with every little movement of the muscles in your mouths - it’s just right.

When you move to break away, panting, your eyes quickly dart to the building standing tall to the right of you before they quickly return to his. An overt cue...

“Do you wan-”

...One of which Rex takes swift action.

“Yes.” Rex didn’t need for you to finish that line; he was already way ahead of you, and was somehow starting to believe you’d never ask. Any nerves of his have long since vanished, as well as any notion of sleep - other, more exciting things urging him on. He knows where he’ll be waking up in the morning, and it’s not on that bedroll in the barracks that he was practically dreaming of back at 79′s before he’d laid eyes on you. For once, the clone captain will allow himself to indulge in what this night holds.

The two of you are unable to keep your hands to yourselves during the brief ride in the lift up to your floor. Rex holds you impossibly close, hands pressed into your lower back and practically carrying your floating body through the corridors until arriving at your front door; you’d murmured the directions into his lips along the way. With your back pressed against it, your hand swings behind to blindly input the access code. After a few incorrect entries before hearing the musical awarded access, the door slides open, and your fingers wrap around the dip at the top of his cuirass - pulling him to follow you in. You make it as far as the couch, pushing him down to sit as you descend with him, your mouths staying connected in the process. Rex sinks into the cushions, and his hands begin rove your body experimentally from where you’re straddled over his armored lap. You’re melting into his touch, rocking yourself over the hardness of his codpiece, letting the curve of it rub into your clothed heat as his lips trail wet hot down your chin and jaw.

Never had you previously allowed a night like this to get as far with anyone else.

“I don’t...” Rex pauses as soon as the words leave you - lifting from your neck and meeting your eyes with a flash of concern sinking in his own. “I don’t usually do this, uh, sort of thing,” you elaborate quickly, your hands gesturing to the current situation - nervous, for some odd reason, even though your mind is very made up. His expression softens and a sweet smile creeps on his lips as he traces your own with the pad of his now bare thumb - the touch featherlight, admiring. “I just- just thought I should clear that up.” You’re not sure what it is exactly that you’re clearing up; perhaps you’re afraid that Rex thinks you’re one of those clone groupies, a woman who frequents 79′s to show her appreciation for the brave soldiers of the Republic. Or maybe that you’re someone who often fucks on the first date, just to be casted aside in the morning or the one who does the casting aside. The look he’s giving you, though, as he gazes up at you with something within his eyes that you can’t yet translate, is leading you to believe that he doesn’t put you into any of those categories - didn’t, from the very moment he’d laid eyes on you.

“Mesh’la,” he breathes against your jaw - the foreign-sounding word completely unknown to you but making you clench all the same - the shape of it forming on his lips and pressing into your tender skin. “The same goes for me. I... don’t wanna do anything that’ll scare you away.”

“And here I am thinking that I’m the one coming on too strong too fast,” you jest. Sure, it has only been a single, incomplete night of knowing him, but as silly and cliché as it sounds, it honest to Maker feels like you’ve known him forever. Normally, you’d conclude that allowing yourself to think that would more than likely end up biting you in the ass in the near future, but you truly don’t think that would be the case this time. Not with him.

“Rex...” Breaking from his lips for a breather and cradling the curve of his cheekbones within your hands, you look deep into his kind eyes, searching for the answer to the question you have yet to ask. “Have you ever...?”

“Yes, yes. It, uh, was always quick... when I did.” Rex chews his cheek - his brows pinching together in unwarranted contrition. “I’m sorry,” he sighs.

“For?”

“I don’t want you to think-”

You cut him off with the hard press of your lips to his - grinding yourself down on his lap with a little more purpose. Anything he was about to say, any inhibitions, dissolves like sugar inside your mouth. Minutes crawl by. Maybe longer, you’re unsure; too lost in this milky euphoria to give a damn about something as complex and currently unimportant as time. Your body is on fire; the heat that radiates from his flesh even from under the armor envelopes you in a different kind of warmth. You find your own hands mapping out the parts of his body that aren’t shelled by a plastoid exterior, landing on the piece that you’ve been grinding yourself on since arriving.

“Can I take this off?” Rex peers down at your hand laying over his codpiece; his perfect pout glistening, eyes darkening - the black orbs nearly swallowing the warm honey they reside in as he begins to look you over.

“Please.”

If it wasn’t already a known fact that you’d never done this with someone like him before, then the way your fingers fumble around the plastoid in a blind search for the clasp - or whatever is holding this Maker forsaken thing in place - sure as hell gives it away. Sensing your evident struggle, Rex’s hand brushes over yours and the hindrance is unfastened in an instant. You raise a brow at him, and he only grins as you lean down to kiss him again.

Rex stands - your arms and legs squeezing him as he walks you to the bed, his erection teasing with its firm press against you. Laying you down on your back, he watches as you shimmy off the rest of your clothing. His breath catches in his throat upon your removal of your bra, eyes widening and fingers drumming at his sides, and you have to urge him to unfreeze so he can finishing undressing and join you.

“I... really want this,” he informs through heavy breaths - a hint of sheepishness engrained within the gruffness - finally moving to climb on the bed between your legs after stripping nearly everything from him and stacking it all in a neat pile. “You. Really want you.” You smile - the gleam reaching your eyes - and grab his arm to pull him on top of you. He’s still wearing his under-armor bottoms, and your hand shamelessly trails down to palm at the hard bulge from above the skin-tight material.

“I want this too, Rex. You.” He groans - husky and deep - taking a few moments to relish the way your hand feels as you massage him before making quick work to remove the only thing that’s left covering his beautiful body.

It takes you by complete surprise - his extraordinary size. The way it was trapped within the compression bottoms was totally misleading. You swallow a clump of dry air - your tummy tingling and heart racing at the sight of him now completely nude and in the process of climbing back into position.

“Maker...”

You say the most prominent and immediate thought out loud, causing him to stop in his tracks.

“What? Is everything okay, is- is this okay?” Rex becomes mildly frantic, concerned - just about to climb away but you grab at his shoulder, fingers pressing into the toned, corded flesh where it curves into the base of his neck at the back.

“Yes,” you sigh - astounded. “I just... you’re, um...” Your eyes remain glued to the erect, throbbing appendage standing at attention between his legs, noting how it curves slightly upwards at the tip and is aimed at your clenching heat. “You’re big, Rex.” When your eyes flicker back up to his, his brow is raised and his lips are pressed into a thin line. Like he doesn’t already fucking know how well-endowed he is.

Shutting your eyes and sighing quietly, your face stings from the sound of your breathy voice uttering out such truism. He shifts his weight between the arms that are caging you in on either side and looks down at himself - considering.

“I - uh-”

“It’s okay,” you chuckle with a quick nod of your head as you spread your legs wider with a slight roll of your hips. Your mound briefly brushes the hot, velvety skin along his shaft when you lift your hips again. Your abdomen involuntarily tightens upon noticing the length of him hovering over you, practically marking how deep inside he’ll be. “I need you, Rex.”

You learn quickly that you needn’t repeat a thing to an esteemed captain of his merit.

He prepares you, like any true gentleman would, getting your body ready to accept him fully. Licking, touching, sucking, prodding; it’s all so exquisitely slow, intricate, surprisingly good for someone who has had little to no experience in the arena of foreplay. Thick fingers work you open in deep, pleasant strokes - his knuckles knocking into the most tender and pleasurable tissue with every pass. Rex’s lips go from attending to your breasts and trailing along nearly every inch of your skin before reuniting with your own. He inadvertently works a mild orgasm from you from his delicate tongue and purposeful touch alone - the build-up a soft crescendo until you’re moaning his name in the most breathy voice you’ve ever entertained.

You’ve never felt so safe and cared for during moments like these; now is a whole different experience than what you’d encountered in the past. You don’t have an extensive list of previous partners, but all of the ones who had made your short list were boys. Immature, needy, desperate boys. Boys who could never compare to the man who’s currently breaching you with a very gentle roll of his hips laced with all the care in the galaxy. Not to mention, his size. In that alone Rex is unmatched.

Your lips barely disconnect; the soft whimpers and moans shared between the two of you are breathed into one another and swallowed. You’ve never experienced anything so tender yet deliberate at the same time - the combination of soft meeting its opposite making your head spin and toes curling. Nails forming small crescents indenting into his skin, you hang on to Rex’s broad shoulders as he rocks into you. It’s a steady pace he sets right from the get-go and he keeps that all the way up until your second orgasm flows through you, consequently causing a hint of resistance put up by your clenching walls, affecting his length’s repeating reentry. Not much is said, but a lot is spoken through eye contact. Neither of you want this to end, but when it inevitably does, you’d want to do this again. You want to do more than this; you both want to see each other again. When he finishes, it’s the gravelly, drawn-out groan falling out of his throat that causes you to see the stars from where they’re hung outside Coruscant’s orbit as if you’re sitting directly in front of them, just an arm’s length away.

You’re cleaned up in such a meticulous and tender way that only Rex could provide. He falls to your side - taking you with him as his strong arms wrap around your torso. It’s insane; the way you fell into each other earlier this evening is comparable to fate itself. You think you’re going crazy, that you’re feeling all these things only after having known Rex for less than several hours, that you’re diving into something too hard and too quickly.

“Do you feel it, too?”

You don’t know what possessed you to ask him instead of keeping it locked up in your buzzing mind, still keyed up from the best sex you’ve ever had, but it’s out there. Unable to see his face from your position, your heart starts racing with nerves, and in the several moments of silence and lingering regret, you mentally curse at yourself for being so forward.

“Yeah,” Rex says with a soft smile evident in his tone - a huge weight being lifted from your shoulders and tossed aside. “I do.”

With that, his arms hold you just a little tighter and he places a chaste kiss on your temple. It’s not long before the sound of soft snoring fills the otherwise quiet bedroom, and minutes later you’re right there alongside him - content, fluttering heart and all.

<<<>>>

| wanna be tagged? |

anyone/everyone tags:

@bvcketfvcker @deewithani @chromia7567 @threevie @letitrainathousandflames @thefact0rygirl @justanothersadperson93 @ohtobeamoth @14mcmd1122 @tacticalsparkles @cheesemachine44 @damerondala @buckethead-over-heels @purgetroopercody @socially-anxious-fangirl @cloneygoodness @marya-komar @beskarprincessjenny @awkward-katiesaur @katiebits1 @kawaiitimecharm @shiny-mando @sapphichorrorpictureshow @fat-zygerrian @foodandbooksplease @the-siren-writes-it @ken-obiwan @dinner-djarin @howie-ner-cyare @99squad @chewychewyque @obiwan-djarin @vaderthepotater @blackrose4242 @the-sad-batch @quantumowl @ashotofspotchka @queen-simp @kaorikoizumi @mylifeinthetardisforever @sitherin-mxschief @escapedthesarlacc @sydnubabu @megalinditron @whatanoof @4rosydreams @ahsoka1 @colorfulloverbatturkey @venomous-ko @monako-jinn-stories @paige6768 @diagonallie5400 @galacticgraffiti @commxnderwolffe @fivedicksinatrenchcoat @jediknightdjarin @clonecyare @royal-stardust @bobafettuccini @rebelpitstop @rowansparrow @shiniest-captain @techs-hairline @no-idea-what-to-write-here @zazzysseoul @ladykatakuri @badbatch-simp24 @whovian_gurl

clones only tags:

@bambiswriting @sergeant-hunter @kriffclone @saberdeity @echofoxfives @alucas528

#once again. I got Carried Away #post-order 66 rex #djarrex writes #inbox #Rex Gayiyla #captain rex x reader #captain rex x f!reader #captain rex smut #star wars fic #request(?)#request

298 notes · View notes

garbagevanfleet · 3 years ago

Text

Brightest Blue (series)

PART FIFTEEN (final chapter)

Pairing: Josh & female!Reader Warnings: 18+ ONLY, sexual content, alcohol, feelings Summary: Things are changing. New state. New school. New roommate. You just pray things are going to click into place. Notes: What an odd feeling this is. I love writing fics, but when you work so long and hard on something, it’s hard to let it go. I’m really pleased with how it turned out though, and I’m so incredibly grateful to everyone that read it and interacted with it. A big thank you to my editor, @lantern-inthenight for sticking with me through it, and thank you again to everyone on my taglist.

MASTERPOST

taglist: @valleyd0ll @satingrass-maidensfair @guitarfingers @thebohemianpenguin @peaceisouranthem @oblvions @hansonobsessed @myownparadise96 @anditsmywholeheart @kill-fear-the-power-of-lies @bigblack-catattack @dharma-divine

There was a plant in the Kiszka house that you couldn’t stop looking at - you found yourself making your way to the kitchen, just so you could peek in on it. It was a Christmas cactus placed on the south-facing window sill above the sink, spilling out of the sides of its terra cotta pot in long tendrils.

Shapely, dark green, and perfectly healthy - it was the perfect metaphor for the household that loved it. The fuchsia pink buds on the tips of every trailing vine were promising to open every day since you’d arrived, and - perfectly on queue - the first one opened on Christmas Eve. It had been tightly closed when you greeted it in the morning as you sipped your cup of coffee, but by the time the family was snacking on a veggie tray and cocktail weenies at lunchtime, it was fully open, facing the floor in a way that reminded you of a ballerina’s tutu.

“You like this thing, huh?” Josh had asked, audible to just you over the lively conversation and music filling the kitchen and dining room. He was standing closely behind your right shoulder, charmingly trying to get the same view of the cactus that you were - as if that could help him appreciate it better.

“Isn’t it lovely?” you replied, turning your head and realizing at the same time that you could kiss his cheek if you leaned in closer. The two of you shared a lingering look that you put an end to just before you could start feeling physically warm.

He hummed in consideration after a moment. “It’s pretty,” he agreed and then smiled weakly. “It kinda just looks like another plant to me though, if I’m being honest.”

You turned to face him then, giving him a warm look. “There’s a lot of beauty to be found in things that other people don’t know to consider. It gives you kind of a selfish satisfaction.”

The slightly suggestive tone you’d taken put a puzzled smile on his face. He gave you a look that somehow perfectly let you know that he’d be back to pry at the deeper meaning of this conversation later when you were alone.

“We got this for Christmas for my mom one year when we were little kids. Sam and Ronnie liked the color.” He smiled at it past your shoulder. “It used to be so tiny.”

It certainly wasn’t anymore. As a matter of fact, it was currently threatening to take over the whole sill - swallow up the little knick-knacks peppered around it.

“It’s really happy,” you agreed.

+++

Dinner that night was photo-worthy. Laid out on the table were dishes upon dishes of different comfort foods, each with its own oversized serving spoon. Jake had been trying to make homemade bread through the entirety of your time there - the first night was his very first time making it and it was a little raw, then the next night it seemed a little hard, then the next it looked a little overcooked and dense. Tonight, however, it looked worthy of a cooking magazine cover.

PERFECT BREAD ON THE SIXTH TRY! it would read triumphantly.

No one had a claim on any of the specific spots at the dining table, so it was free game - which was how you were able to finagle your way into sitting between Jake and Sam for that evening’s meal. You liked them a lot, for the record, but you had been thinking a lot about your earlier interaction with Josh, and that was the reason for your chosen position.

You wanted to stare at him without arousing suspicion - or rather, any more suspicion than was already present amongst the six of you.

He had given you a questioning look as he sat directly across the table from you, scooting his chair in until he could rest his elbows on the wood. You offered him a reassuring smile as you settled in, but secretly you reveling in the fact it’d seem awfully non-platonic if he questioned your choice out loud.

While you ate, he only caught you looking at him once, to which he responded by playfully poking his tongue out at you. Otherwise, you listened intently to a story that Sam was telling you about a fated time he found a designer jacket in a truck stop bathroom and it fit perfectly. You also chatted lightly with Jake - who was sitting to your right - about each of your classes and he graciously listened to you gripe at length about the weather and its lack of consistency, which was obviously very kind of him.

When dinner was over, the family changed into their pajamas before meeting in the living room with their wine to sit around the tree and open one present each of their choosing. It went around in a circle, starting with Josh who received a new cutting board and a set of knives that his mom jokingly assured him he couldn’t have until he was ready to go back to Ann Arbor. You were unabashedly visibly excited to be able to use a knife that could cut without having to use a sawing motion.

Jake had unknowingly chosen to open the present you got for him, which was a leather-bound journal and fountain pen that cost more than you wanted to admit but after you saw it at the store, you couldn’t stop thinking about it. You had felt incredibly cool while purchasing it, so in a way, it was kind of a gift for you too.

The gift you opened was a wool sweater from Josh’s parents and when you lovingly clutched the forest green fabric to your chest, it was a genuine gesture. You reminded them that they didn’t have to get you anything, but thanked them profusely when they informed you that you were being silly.

After the designated presents were opened, warm conversation was had as the Rudolph Christmas movie played quietly in the background. It was one of your holiday favorites though, so you probably paid more attention to it than the rest of the family.

Once 10 pm hit, there was a sharp rise in the frequency of yawns, and shortly after that people started turning in, one by one. Everyone was wished a good night, knowing that when they woke up again, it would be Christmas.

After Jake turned in around 11:30, you and Josh were the last ones standing - or sitting rather.

You were sitting next to each other on the sofa, about a foot apart because despite Jake having been privy to your relationship, it was just good practice when any member of his family was around.

As soon as Jake’s bedroom door was closed, Josh seemed to visibly relax his muscles, though his fingers still fidgeted with his jeans every few moments.

“Are you liking being home?” you asked and then took a sip of wine, already knowing what he was going to say.

He gave you a low, pained-sounding hum through a grimacing smile. “We should have just told my family what the nature of our relationship was - I don’t think I can handle not touching you much longer.”

“M’kay, couple things to address here,” you started through an amused smirk. “You were able to handle not touching me for months - I think you can handle literally one and a half more days. And two-”

He cut you off with a finger against your lips. “Yeah, but had I known you wanted me to, it would have made a lot of difference.”

You pressed a kiss to the digit before he quickly pulled it away with an accusatory squint in his eye.

“And secondly,” you tried again pointedly. “What would you have told them? ‘Hey guys, I have very very fuzzy boundaries with my roommate and that often results in us sleeping together, both literally and as a euphemism’?”

He shot you a teasing smirk. “Cute. You’re very cute,” he said sarcastically.

After a very long, comfortable silence, you spoke again, voice low and hushed. “So, can I scoot closer to you now?”

He looked over at you from out of the corner of his eye, still holding that smirk. “Please do.”

You shuffled until your thigh was touching his.

Of course, you had missed it right away, but you hadn’t really realized how much you’d missed being physically close to him until you caught the now-familiar scent of his cologne.

Another comfortable silence fell upon the room, quiet enough that all you could hear was the quiet crackling of the logs in the stone fireplace.

“Can I kiss you too?” you asked, looking over at him through the sheer curtain of your hair.

He looked like he was truly mulling it over as his eyes flicked down the hall to his siblings’ rooms, and then across the living room and up the set of stairs to his parents’ room. After a second, he let out a huff and said, “Fuck it.”

He reached over and tugged on your various limbs until you were sitting in his lap, face to face.

It had been so forbidden to you up until then, that when he leaned in and caught your lips, you let out a groan under your breath.

“I missed you,” he breathed, almost directly against your mouth. “I love knowing you in any aspect, but I’ve been burning for this.”

It made the heat rise to your cheeks, as well as your lap - but you couldn’t let him know he’d turned you on so easily, so you replied breathily with, “That’s an awfully fancy way of telling me you’re horny, babe.”

He was biting back a laugh for a split second before, grabbing your hips a little tighter to gain back what dominance you had borrowed from him with your teasing.

You pressed your luck. “Really, very eloquent.”

A look of contemplation flashed over his features as he was obviously deciding what to do next. He lifted you with little effort and then pressed you firmly backward until your shoulders hit the seat of the couch. Then he crawled over you and stared down into your eyes triumphantly.

“Aren’t you worried about someone coming out here?” you challenged through a grin.

He leaned in until he could drag his teeth across your cheekbone, making your skin prickle. “I don’t care anymore,” he replied, and then - in a show of brutal honesty - pressed his crotch against your hip and ground down just enough to show you how hard he was.

Your breath caught in your throat, and involuntarily, you bucked up against him.

You kissed him so forcefully that it was almost more like just mashing your mouths together for a long moment. His hand slipped down between your bodies until his fingers brushed over your navel, the ticklish feeling making the muscles jump under the touch. It was the anticipation of his next move that fucked you up the most.

He was dragging his fingers lower, just about to dip under the band of your pajama pants when he seemed to have a moment of clarity and pulled his hand away altogether. You frowned at him, pushing your hips up to meet his hand instead, to which he responded by placing his palm on your stomach and pressing you back down with a laugh.

“Let’s go to my room,” he suggested.

“No, wait.” You gave him the softest eyes you could. “It’s so romantic out here right now - the lights on the tree, the fire, the soft couch. Would you just kiss me here for a bit?”

The look on his face could only be described as enamored. He stared at your face for a few long seconds before you finally asked if he was alright.

“I’m lucky to have you.”

He said it under his breath, so sincerely and honestly, that you weren’t sure how to respond until you could catch up with your thoughts. You cupped his jaw in your right palm, raking your fingers through his hair and he careened your touch in a way that had you feeling like a melting scoop of ice cream.

“You know, I sometimes think about how poorly the whole ‘moving across the country to a place you’ve never been for school’ thing could have gone. There were so many variables that had to click into place, and somehow I still ended up living with a person that,” You paused to brush your thumb against his cheekbone, hoping to portray your meaning through your touch. “Might be a literal angel.”

He raked his front teeth over his bottom lip subconsciously as he consumed the compliment. You could see his brain chewing it over as he snickered a laugh.

“Though, I think angels are supposed to deliver good tidings and not black eyes,” you teased.

You couldn’t name the look he adopted then, but it seemed somewhere between solemn and proud reminiscence. The frown forming on your features was not lost on him, and you quickly spoke before he could change the subject.

“What’s wrong?”

He hummed and met your eyes. “I never wanted you to find out about that,” he said like an admission.

“What do you mean?”

“There were a lot of things I did to get your attention, but that was completely reactionary. I’ve never been a violent person - well, to anyone but my siblings anyway-”

You huffed a laugh at him but nodded for him to continue.

“You were right,” He met your eyes with an intense sincerity. “I am a lover. Not a fighter.”

“I know,” you whispered as you brushed a stray curl from his forehead. “But you must have known I would find out, right?”

“I wasn’t thinking about that at the time, but yeah - in retrospect - of course, you’d find out. But I did it. I sought him out and it just-” He bit his lip for a second to take a pause. “I saw him and all I could think about was you crying on my shoulder that night.”

You didn’t say anything. You just let him gather his thoughts as the crackling of the fire served as a placeholder in his silence.

“He’s lucky he only got a black eye because I wanted to kill him for touching you.”

It was clear after a moment that he was waiting for you to respond, possibly even hoping for validation at such a vulnerable moment.

“If I’m being honest, Josh, I still can’t believe you could do that - I can’t even imagine you yelling at someone in a way that was anywhere near serious.”

He stared at you for a few long beats, and you watched the reflection of the Christmas lights twinkle like stars speckled over the dark canvas of his eyes.

“Yeah, well,” he started, just above a whisper. His brows were tipped into a look of contemplation - the spacing of his words making you think that he wasn’t sure how to proceed. “You do crazy things to protect the people you love.”

It wasn’t voluntary in any way when your breathing stopped, it just happened - like your lungs were locked up for a few long seconds as you waited for one of you to say something.

“You’re my best friend,” he said like a confession, looking more serious than you’d ever seen him. “And I love you.”

Undeniably, your face was peachy pink - you could feel it tingling warm. You weren’t sure what to do with your hands, but you knew you wanted to touch him. His skin tightened around his jaw when you ghosted your fingers over it.

“You love me?”

He nodded at you, a small but confident motion. “You fill a lot of different positions in my life. I’m not in love with you yet - I don’t think - but I want your permission to be.”

Without wasting another second, you caught his lips in an earnest kiss, your chest feeling like it might implode. It only lasted for a moment before he was pulling you back up until you were sitting in his lap.

“Was that romantic enough for you?” he asked, trying to shade his voice with humor but it came out sounding breathless instead.

“I literally can’t imagine anything more romantic,” you agreed with a weak laugh and then teased, “Unless you proposed. You’re not going to propose, are you?”

He adopted a disbelieving smirk. “Do you want me to? I’m sure I can fashion a ring out of something. Maybe there’s a cock ring joke in there somewhere-”

You rolled your eyes playfully and cut him off with, “Please shut up and take me to bed. Right now, okay?”

He ushered you off of him with a breathy laugh before gently nudging you in the general direction of his room. “Hurry along then.”

The two of you padded quietly down the hall, shutting the door without making a peep.

The only light in his room was what you could see of the Christmas lights that framed the front door, casting a white-gold glow over the setting.

When he laid you out over the bed, it was significantly gentler than you were expecting as was the kiss he placed - first on your cheek and then your jaw and down your neck to your throat.

His hands slipped under your pajama top, tugging lighting at the buttons on it from the inside and letting his fingers make the skin across your navel tighten. Instinctively, your fingers tangled into his hair, keeping him close enough that the pointed tip of his nose was resting on your sternum. The warm humidity of his breath hitting your skin was both calming and exciting at the same time in a way you couldn’t describe if you tried. His fingers worked to undo your top with relative ease, sliding it off of your chest after.

You eyed the way his bicep flexed as he held all of his weight on it, and wrapped your fingers around it to give it a squeeze. He reacted by dragging his teeth across your breast with just enough sting to make your hips lift off the bed. The way he sucked one of your nipples into his mouth and rolled it around with his tongue made you squirm, fingers flexing into his tense skin. A tingly, warm feeling set over you as you wrapped your legs around his hips and sat up to shrug your shirt off.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this,” he stated simply as he ran his fingers down your bare chest.

You hummed at him through a smile, pinching his chin in your fingers and tilting his head up until he had to look you in the eyes. He gave you a grin as he bit his bottom lip and then leaned in to press a kiss against your cheek. In your heart, you knew the gesture had you blushing, but it was confirmed for you when he smugly rubbed his thumb across your cheekbone.

The chill in the room made your newly-naked skin prickle as he tossed your pajama pants to the floor, followed quickly by his own. With all of your clothing discarded into a pile, he pulled you up onto your knees, cupped both sides of your jaw with his hands, and tugged your face closer until your noses were touching. You listened to his shaky breathing for a moment before you dug your fingers into his hips, pulling him back over you as you laid out on the bed.

You knew your nails were digging into his skin - probably a little too deeply - as he pushed into you, one of his hands wrapped around your thigh to keep it hitched over his hip. This was confirmed for you when you heard him suck in a breath that sounded more like a hiss, though you got the feeling that he liked the sting of it.

Through the entirety of the time he was fucking you, he barely pulled his body away from you at all, instead opting to just rock himself against you until you were near tears. The biggest challenge was barely making a sound as you reached your peak, your face buried in the humid crook of his neck and shoulder.

You weren’t positive how much time had passed, but as you laid together, post-orgasm, you realized just how exhausted you were.

Neither of you had said a word for quite a while, so it sounded too loud when you spoke into the dark room.

“Are you going back to the living room?” you whispered.

“Nah, fuck it. I’m not going anywhere,” he replied, nuzzling the top of his nose into your hair as you laid, half on his bare chest. Just before you fell asleep you remembered the very first night you slept in his bed, and how much had changed since then - and how much had not really changed at all.

+++

You had meant to set an alarm - really. But you hadn’t gotten around to it the night before, which is why when you came stumbling out of the bedroom with Josh close behind you, you were met with a few pairs of eyes staring at you from the living room. Trying not to look like the most guilty human on earth, you ducked your head and quickly made your retreat to the bathroom. Neither of you said a word as you brushed your teeth together, sneaking playful glances at each other in the mirror.

By the time you had both showered - Josh first and then you second - and changed into your clothes for the day, it was 9:30. You both found the dining room table hosting his entire family and enough breakfast food piled on top of the worn wood to satisfy a small army.

The two spots that they saved for you were next to each other, so you settled in and tried to prepare for the most awkward meal of your life thus far.

“You almost made it to the end,” Jake quipped, apparently happy as hell to deliver the first blow.

You watched Josh’s eyes flick up at him, delivering him a chilly look.

“Okay, it wasn’t really a secret before, but it’s definitely not anymore,” Jake finished, rolling his eyes as the bowl of scrambled eggs was passed to him.

Josh poured himself a glass of orange juice and then gestured for your glass too. “If I were in the living room last night, Santa wouldn’t have come. Really, you have me to thank for the gifts you receive today.” He finished filling your glass and set the carton back down before continuing. “And I’ll take that thank you in the form of you shutting up and minding your own business.”

Jake snorted a laugh as he dished himself out some breakfast. He opened his mouth to tease Josh further, but when he looked up and met your eyes, he let the next remark die on his lips - instead just settling for a smug smirk.

No one mentioned anything else about it, but as the meal went on, you realized that you really had nothing to be ashamed of. You brushed your fingers against Josh’s under the table and then let him lace them together as his sister was telling a story about the best gift she’d ever received. You didn’t share a look with him, but you didn’t have to as his thumb swiped over the top of your hand, over and over.

After breakfast was eaten and presents were opened, Josh found you on your way out of the restroom and motioned for you to follow him to his room.

“I have something for you,” he started as he took your hand and sat you on the bed. You crossed your hands in your lap, settling into your spot with a smile. He closed the door behind him and then lifted the bag he’d packed from home onto the dresser.

He pulled out a little box like a magician would pull a rabbit from his hat, and then held it out for you to take.

“It really isn’t much, because we obviously don’t have a lot of money, but after what you did for Penny- Well. I wanted to do something meaningful too,” he explained sheepishly.

The box was wrapped in mint green foil and marked with your name on a brown paper tag.

You took a lot of care removing the wrapping, and gently opened the top of the box as you held his eyes.

Inside was a 4-inch terra cotta pot, decorated with delicately painted sunflowers on a white background.

“It’s obviously not perfect-” he started, but you didn’t let him finish before you set the pot on his bedspread and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“It’s perfect,” you stated simply.

+++

He slept with you again that night, this time sparing any sneaky behavior - and this time, when the two of you emerged from his room, no one even batted an eye. It took you only a few moments to pack your things up, but over an hour to say all of your goodbyes.

You watched as his mother hugged him again, just like she had when he’d arrived - tightly, like she could barely stand to let him leave. This time, she hugged you too, nearly just as warmly.

Josh helped you get your bags into the trunk of your car, being decidedly less gentle with Jake’s belongings, and the two of you crawled into the front seats as Jake was ribbing his much taller younger brother at the front door.

“Hey, I got you this. I looked it up on my phone and the wiki page said I could just rip it off, so I did,” he explained as he placed a long arm of the Christmas cactus into your lap.

You look at it for a long moment, your chest feeling tight.

He must have mistaken your silence for apprehension, because he continued on, letting a concerned tone shade his words. “It said it wouldn’t hurt the plant and that it would eventually just grow roots. Is that right? So you can have one of your own, you know? Since you liked it so much. You could even use the little pot.”

You let your eyes meet his as you tried to choke back the feeling in your throat that was threatening tears. Embarrassingly, your voice was a little shaky when you stated, “I love you too.”

He looked completely stunned, but he only had a moment to fix his expression before Jake was opening the back door and sliding effortlessly in.

“You guys good to go?” Jake asked as he leaned forward and snatched the aux cable from where it was rested on the center console.

You gave Josh an expectant smile, but when it was clear that he wasn’t going to respond, you leaned over and pressed a kiss against his lips, prompting him to say through a beaming grin, “Let’s go home.”

#brightest blue fic #Brightest Blue #josh fic #josh kiszka #josh x reader #josh kiszka smut #josh kiszka fic

339 notes · View notes

pot-of-terv · 4 years ago

Photo

Goodness I almost didn’t finish this in time, I got a horrible migraine yesterday and today the time got away from me because I spent the day with a friend... But here it is!! I wanted to draw more but the writing took longer than I thought and now it’s so late that I should’ve been in bed over an hour ago :_D

THEY FINALLY TALK... a little. But it’s a good beginning.

PuzzleJune 2021, Week Three: Dimension (Rules, Impossible)

It's a comfortable silence. Atem would be content to just stay there, feeling warm and loved, lodged between Yuugi's arms. Perhaps he could even doze off.

But he knows what he said, and he knows Yuugi is now waiting for them to talk. Their mental link through the Puzzle might be gone but maybe there's some kind of a residual connection left, because the feeling of expectation in the air is almost palpable.

"We're both going to get cricks in our backs if we don't move soon," Yuugi interrupts his thoughts. He sounds sleepy and some part of that guilt Atem felt before raises its ugly head.

"I– yeah," Atem mumbles and with obvious reluctance, lets go of Yuugi's waist and sits up. Something must show on his face because Yuugi peers at him curiously.

“I’m sorry for waking you, aibou,” he sighs and offers an apologetic smile. “I know you would’ve liked to sleep longer.”

Yuugi lets out a startled laugh and shakes his head.

“Uh-huh, but you’re way more important than that. You should know that, right?”

Atem is taken aback by the blatant sincerity of those words. It tends to happen a lot around Yuugi, and he’s not sure if he’s ever going to get used to it. On some level though... It feels nice. He chuckles and smiles at Yuugi, this time honestly.

“I guess I should.” He pauses. “Thank you, Yuugi.”

This time it’s his partner’s turn to look surprised. A slight blush climbs onto his cheeks which Atem notes, amused. Even now it’s not exactly a regular occurrence for him to call Yuugi by his name (it feels odd on his tongue – it’s hard to shake the memories of being called with that same name) and he resorts to ‘partner’ more often than not but he has been trying. He has his name now – no reason for him to withhold Yuugi’s own from him.

“I-it’s fine, other me,” Yuugi says and looks away, breaking their eye contact. He looks happy, though, so Atem doesn’t worry about it too much. What he does worry about is the conversation they’re about to have.

He stretches, probably more theatrically than necessary, then shuffles backwards on the bed to lean his back against the wall and snags Yuugi’s pillow to hold under his arms. He feels awkward and clumsy despite his mind having cleared up and he feels that he needs the extra comfort. Yuugi pulls his legs onto the bed and leans against the headrest.

They fall into another silence, yet this is a pondering one. Still not awkward, still not bad – Atem is pretty sure they’re not even able to have awkward silences. It’s a comforting thought and he hugs the pillow in his lap closer to his chest to cover his inappropriately goofy smile.

“We really don’t do this, huh,” Yuugi snickers after a while, breaking the stillness that had fallen over the room like a blanket.

Atem tilts his head on the side to look at him, leaning his cheek on the pillow.

“We really, really don’t,” he answers with an easy grin. Yuugi smiles back and there’s such fondness in his eyes that Atem could very well just drown in those purple depths. He sobers quickly though and his grin falters before vanishing, leaving his mouth in a tight line. He looks into Yuugi’s eyes with a new sharpness and the other boy mirrors his expression as if it’s his second nature (it probably is, considering). This is it.

“I’m so sorry for everything I put you through,” the pharaoh blurts out before he can overthink it. Yuugi looks almost shocked so he barrels on, “I know how greatly you suffered during those weeks leading up to the ceremonial duel. Those feelings were never a secret from me and I’m so, so sorry for not making it right… before it was already too late.”

There’s the familiar feeling of a lump in his throat and he fights to keep his eyes locked into Yuugi’s. He deserves honesty and Atem can’t allow himself to turn away. A shadow casts over Yuugi’s face and he's silent for a moment before speaking.

“I kind of knew. That you knew. I’m not too sure how it made me feel, though,” he says quietly. “Not very good at least, if I’m honest.”

Atem nods. He had presumed as much.

“I thought… I thought you just really wanted to leave. And I couldn’t blame you for it, I mean… you were dead, and the dead deserve their rest. And on top of it, that’s your family and friends you would’ve gotten to see in the Afterlife. Of course, it still hurt me,” Yuugi smiles sadly and lifts his knees to tuck his chin against them. “But I can’t blame you for that.”

“Why not?” Atem asks sharply and sits up straight. He squeezes the pillow against his stomach. “You have every right.”

All of a sudden Yuugi looks a little exasperated and he runs a hand through his hair, breaking their eye contact.

“Because… I don’t work that way?” he offers with a wince.

“Nah, you do,” Atem counters slyly. “You just don’t want to make me feel bad.”

Yuugi’s eyes snap back to his and the answer is written clear as day on his face.

“Well, that’s–! That’s!” he struggles to find the words before he just sighs and his shoulders slump. “Yeah. Okay. I want to blame you for it! But I can’t!”

Atem’s eyebrows rise toward his hairline as he stares at Yuugi in surprise. He opens his mouth to say something but Yuugi is faster.

“I love you too much to be able to.” His cheeks flush crimson and he slaps his hands over his face. “Don’t look at me,” he mutters, “I know that goes without saying but you just had to make me say it!”

Atem is completely speechless. Every direction he thought that this conversation could take them, this one was not what he had expected. Talk about dimensions, he thinks, perhaps a little dazed. Of course, it’s– it’s a given that they love each other–

“No,” Atem interrupts his own thoughts and throwing the pillow to the side, he crawls to Yuugi and kneels next to him. He takes a gentle hold of Yuugi’s right wrist but doesn’t pry the hand away from his face.

“It shouldn’t go without saying. Because we went with things without saying anything, you – and I – got hurt. And that should never happen again.” He takes a deep breath and feels himself smile.

“I love you, Yuugi, and that’s why I thought I had to leave. I thought you’d be happier. I couldn’t let myself be the reason you never got to live your life to the fullest, because if I stayed with you as we were, that’s what would have happened. I thought I knew the rules up until the last second.

“Turns out, I didn’t. I had another choice, a third one… I would have been a fool not to take it because that’s what I had always wanted in the deep recesses of my heart. You remember, right?” He tugs softly on Yuugi’s wrist to try to get him to look at him. “That night you asked me who I was. I told you I wanted to stay with you forever. Those feelings never changed.”

Yuugi lets his hands fall from his face but his eyes are closed tight. There are tears there, forming in the corners, and Atem wants to kiss them away. He doesn’t.

“I–,” Yuugi chokes on his words at first but keeps going, “I remember. I always remembered, but… I guess I stopped believing in it along the way. I didn’t want to hold you back, either. I never wanted to lose you but if it meant that you’d be happy, I’d do anything.”

He finally looks at Atem, eyes wet and shimmering, and laughs, voice thick with emotion.

“We’re such dummies.”

Atem holds out his hand and brushes a single tear off Yuugi’s cheek as it falls, his chest tight and heart fluttering somewhere in between his throat and ribcage. He almost doesn’t dare to talk in fear of his voice breaking... but what would that matter? They’re already laying out their hearts in front of each other, revealing the feelings that they had tried to keep private for reasons that don’t make much sense anymore – if they ever did.

“We are,” the pharaoh smiles and if his lip wobbles then be it. “Aibou… can you promise not to do anything like that anymore, to not… to not keep your feelings concealed for my sake?”

Yuugi takes his hand and squeezes. It makes warmth bloom in Atem’s chest.

“Only if you promise me the same.”

They just look at each other then, searching the other’s eyes. Would they be able to keep such a promise? After all those months of keeping things locked away, of always thinking about what they thought was the best for the other, of never talking things through? They both know it has to change, so… why not start now? They’re finally on the same page and moving forward, they need to keep it that way. Never rushing ahead or falling behind.

Simultaneously they both break into wide smiles and as Atem reaches for Yuugi’s other hand, they speak.

“I promise,” they say at the same time and it surprises neither. They laugh together, free and unburdened, and Atem leans forward to press his forehead against Yuugi’s. Yuugi meets him halfway and seeing the happiness in his eyes that close, Atem feels the prickle of tears in his own. They’re too close to look at each other for long but as they lean away they’re still smiling, still holding hands, tears now on both of their cheeks, and all is right in the world.

Despite everything, they still have each other, and their hearts are lighter. They’re aware that there’s a lot more where that came from but this is a better start than either of them could have hoped for.

They have each other, they have time, and nothing is impossible.

#puzzleshipping #puzzlejune #puzzlejune2021 #puzzledimension #puzzlerules #puzzleimpossible #ygo dm #yugioh #yuugi #atem #tervdraws #tervdrabbles #fanart #fanfic #hello it is time for terv to be very soft once again

222 notes · View notes

carbuckety · 2 years ago

Text

Demelurina week!!!!! Day 7, “free day” uwu i wanted to try writing something in present tense. @jellicle-shifters-au hope u like :333

P.S. I kno Day 7 was technically yesterday but I totally forgot to post it yesterday soooooooo..........

She has already been here long enough to understand the cats that reside here, though there aren’t many in Macavity’s lair. She knows the cruel claws of Macavity, always unsheathed as he paces, but even better she knows the sweet words that pour from his mouth, sticking in her ears like honey attracting pests. She knows the tilt of Alonzo’s head, the flick of his eyes upwards when he wants to meet at the borders when dawn breaks, wants to ‘escape’ for a few minutes and get out of this place. She knows the curl of Mungojerrie’s tail, into a question mark, when Macavity has left a wound that his own tongue cannot heal, when he needs someone to curl around him and block out the world for a while. When he comes around, she knows Munkustrap’s flattened ears and soft pleading voice, asking his brother for the same thing every time. But eventually he stops coming. It’s stagnant here, the same cats with the same thoughts and feelings and words they’ve always had.

The warehouse fills with skittering rivers of rats (with the occasional squirrel, fox, or dog cutting through), and Bomba is warned to watch your step whenever she crosses one of them.

Then a new one comes along. A new scent, a new face, a new… it’s rude to say victim. None of them were victims; they all came by choice. But what does it mean when this new one places her paw down, as if about to step forward, but retracts just as quickly? What does it mean when she stares at Bombalurina for too long, only looking away when she’s caught? Her name is Demeter, and it rolls off the tongue like water falls off a cliff, just like Bomba feels like she’s falling when Demeter stares at her.

It feels so odd, being unable to tell what she’s thinking. Demeter hardly moves a muscle at Macavity’s side — and she’s always at Macavity’s side. But staring at Bomba. And there’s been no time to approach and talk to the black-and-gold queen, anyhow — Macavity whisks her away the moment someone steps towards Demeter, hoarding her like she’s a trophy. Maybe she likes it. But she’s hardly anything, staring out next to Macavity with dull eyes, looking around the room at everything. (Her eyes will eventually settle on Bomba, no matter what.)

One time she does see Demeter without Macavity right behind her. She’s sunbathing with Mungojerrie just outside the warehouse, speaking softly to him about things Bomba cannot hear from inside, glaring hard through a window. She feels mad, or something like mad, because she’s supposed to be doing that and Demeter is supposed to be a puzzle that Bomba must put together, solve like she’s solved every other cat here. Turning away, she jumps down from the stacked up crates, going about her business and stepping over the rats like she’s been asked.

Demeter stares right through her the next day from a doorway just ajar, and Bomba can’t help but feel a little bit ridiculous. So when Demeter puts a paw forward, towards her, but then takes a step back again, Bomba tries to understand, tilting her head like Alonzo and curling her tail like Mungojerrie. Demeter leans into Macavity’s side, where he’s in heated discussion with a scraggly-looking fox with a rat in its jaws, before getting up slowly and making her way over.

A funny, queasy feeling fills Bomba from ears to tail, as if she’s a kit staring at her crush from afar. Demeter moves with a silky precision, but unsure eyes anchor on Bomba, betraying emotion for the first time since they’d ‘met’. (If you could call it meeting, that is.)

Demeter settles tentatively, as if she’s ready to jump up at the slightest sudden movement. She smells like lavender, fresh and in contrast to the rusty smell that coats everything. “Good morning,” she says quietly, the first words Bomba has ever heard her say.

“Hi,” Bomba responds, almost brusquely, because she has no idea what Demeter want from her, or what to say, or if she’ll report every bit of this conversation back to Macavity, or —

“I’m Demeter. I think we should be friends.”

Bomba is slightly taken aback, but as Demeter stares at her with clear eyes, she responds, “Hi, Demeter. That… that would be nice.”

#my writing owo #cats the musical #bombalurina #demeter #demeter cats #demelurina #demelurina week

6 notes · View notes

robininthelabyrinth · 4 years ago

Text

Targets - ao3

- Chapter 3 -

Meng Yao wasn’t supposed to be for sale.

His mother had worked hard her whole life to make sure of it, refusing every offer for him no matter how tempting or how desperate their situation. He was a cultivator’s son, she told him, a sect leader’s; one day, he would return to his father’s side, and if he was going to do that, he couldn’t have his past be marred with scandal. He couldn’t have a slave contract, and he couldn’t have done any work as a whore – it was one thing to do odd jobs in a brothel, but another thing entirely to actually work on your back, and somehow, somehow, someone would find out, and he’d be ruined. They would know.

The only way for him to really make it is if he never did anything like that at all.

So when the cultivator – a real cultivator, from the looks of him, not one of the fakers they often got – walked into their brothel and asked for Meng Yao, his mother said no.

The man frowned, then turned to the owner of the brothel who shrugged, indicating that he was helpless. “The boy doesn’t belong to this establishment,” he said apologetically. “But if the venerated Immortal would prefer something more boyish, I can direct you to some of our more masculine girls, or to a neighboring establishment…”

His voice trailed off when the cultivator pulled out a large chunk of gold, about half the size of Meng Yao’s thumb.

“You can keep it all – if I get the boy, a room, and your word to tell no one else that either of us are here,” the man said.

“No!” Meng Shi exclaimed, but Meng Yao knew from the look on the brothel owner’s eyes that it was too late. This wasn’t a good brothel like the one they’d been in before – the one that had kicked them out when they decided his mother was too old and her health too poor – but a lower tier one, less rich and more desperate. A piece of gold like that was more money than all the girls put together would make in a year.

If they continued to refuse, the owner of the brothel would use force. There were the bully boys at the door – they would grab his mother and drag her away, grab him and throw him into the room, maybe tie him down, rob him of any ability to defend himself…

So Meng Yao put his hand on his mother’s arm. “It’s fine, Mother,” he said to her, hoping to offer comfort where there was none to be had, and then forced himself to smile at the cultivator. “How can this humble one best please the venerated Immortal?”

The man’s eyes flickered between them, and his frown deepened.

“The woman comes with us, same deal,” he told the owner, who nodded, eyes fixed on the gold, and never mind that both Meng Yao and his mother had now frozen in horror. There were women in the brothel who sometimes pretended to be sisters and might even be, it was a popular request by clients, but – his mother… “All right, where’s the room?”

“I’ll give you the best one in the house,” the owner said, tone fawning, and showed them the way.

By the time they were upstairs, Meng Yao was shaking like a leaf and his mother looked on the verge of weeping.

The moment the cultivator closed the door behind them, shooing the owner away, she threw herself onto the floor in front of him. “Venerated Immortal,” she said, begging, and Meng Yao averted his eyes, feeling rage build in the pit of his stomach. “Spare my son, please. I will do anything you wish –”

“You misunderstand,” the cultivator said stiffly. “Your son is safe – as are you. I’m not here for that sort of thing…boy, get her off the floor and seated somewhere, get her something to drink to calm her.”

Meng Yao got his mother into a chair, pressing some wine usually reserved for clients into her hand. By the time he was done with that, he was more puzzled than anything else, even the rage at his mother’s mistreatment fading away into confusion. “What does the venerated Immortal want?” he asked delicately, and the cultivator shrugged.

“I actually have no idea what I’m doing here,” he said frankly. “I received a message from my sect leader that told me to find and secure a ‘Meng Yao, son of Meng Shi’ from Yunping City, and when I asked around it led me to you. I was hoping you could tell me the reason.”

“Your sect leader asked for me?” Meng Yao asked blankly. “By name?”

Could it be – his mother had always said –

“You’re not from Lanling,” his mother said, wiping her eyes, expression back to fierce and calculating. “My boy is the son of the sect leader of Lanling Jin, not…”

She trailed off deliberately.

“Qinghe Nie,” the cultivator said automatically, and even folded his hands in front of him to salute – perfunctorily, but still more than most would bother with for a whore. “The message said only that you were in danger, and that I was to hide you until the sect leader could come pick you up himself.”

So it wasn’t his father, Meng Yao thought, disappointed, but still – a sect leader of a cultivation sect, knowing him by name? Sending a message from far away?

He had no idea what to think of it.

And so they waited, each one sitting awkwardly in their own place, as several shichen passed. It was already evening when there was a knock – at the window.

The window on the third floor.

The cultivator got up and opened it, and a large fierce-looking man carrying three children – one on each hip with an arm around them, and another seated on his shoulders, clutching to his hair like reins – wiggled his way through, shaking all the children off as if his arms were hurting the second his feet were on the ground.

“Is that him?” he asked, nodding at Meng Yao, and the cultivator nodded. “He’s young.”

“Thirteen,” Meng Yao said, and noted that it was probably older than any of the three children who were looking at him in fascination.

“One of Sect Leader Jin’s bastards, Sect Leader,” the cultivator reported, and Meng Yao felt something fall in the pit of his belly at the term one of. There were many like him, then – perhaps his mother’s optimism regarding his reception in Lanling City was as misplaced as her optimism in buying all those pointless cultivation manuals that he slaved over and which accomplished nothing.

“Well, that can’t be the reason, then, or the list would be thrice as long,” the sect leader said, frowning. “I’d even started wondering…no, it still makes no sense. Regardless, no point in waiting around here any longer – I saw two Wen patrols making their way through the city as I flew in, and I have no doubt they’ll find this place soon. We should be gone before they do.”

“If this humble one can ask, what is the honorable Sect Leader’s plans for my son?” Meng Shi asked, ducking her head demurely and looking up at him flirtatiously through her eyelashes, even as she leaned forward a little in a way that set off her shape to its best advantage.

“Oh no,” the sect leader said, and took two full steps backwards. Without the fierce expression on his face, he looked much younger – in fact, Meng Yao thought with wonder and maybe even a little disbelieving amusement, it seemed like this sect leader was most certainly still a teenager, and awkward with it, too. “No, I – I don’t – Gao Jianguo, do something!”

“She’s a whore, Sect Leader,” the cultivator said, rolling his eyes. “They flirt. It happens.”

The sect leader was bright red. The children were all giggling.

“Madame,” he said, bowing to her – an actual bow, respectful, not even the perfunctory dip the cultivator had given earlier, and he didn’t have to call her Madame, either. “Forgive me, I’m not…I don’t have much experience with women. My name is Nie Mingjue, sect leader of Qinghe Nie. I have reason to believe your son is in terrible danger if he remains here, and I intend to take him with me to a safe location.”

“What assurances do I have of his safety?” Meng Shi asked, and Meng Yao knew then that she intended to send him whether he wanted to go or not.

Not that he didn’t intend to go. Such an earnest sect leader, this ‘Nie Mingjue’…even if it was all a mistake or misunderstanding, which had to be what had happened, there were benefits that could be gotten here. If Meng Yao could become a servant there, learn cultivation, he could maybe save up enough to later go to his father’s side – no matter what they asked of him, it would be better than a brothel, especially one where the owner had already seen an indication of Meng Yao’s worth as chattel.

And yet…

“You have my word,” Nie Mingjue assured her.

“I won’t leave without her,” Meng Yao suddenly spoke up, and ignored his mother’s glare. He didn’t want to leave her here. He wouldn’t, not unless he was forced, which seemed likely, but he had to try his best. “If I’m in danger, then so is she. They might want to use her to lure me in.”

“That’s a good point,” Nie Mingjue said, which Meng Yao wasn’t expecting. He even nodded in approval at Meng Yao. “Very well, we’ll take you both with us. Gao Jianguo –”

“The amount I’ve already paid would be sufficient to cover any slave bond,” the cultivator said. His frown suggested he wasn’t happy about his sect leader’s actions. “There will be paperwork –”

“Only for me,” Meng Shi said quickly. “My son is free, and always has been.”

Nie Mingjue looked out the window, clearly calculating – two patrols, Meng Yao thought, this sect leader thought someone was hunting him down for some unknown reason – and then glanced at the two of them. He sighed a little, almost imperceptibly, before firming up his expression once more.

“Take Meng Shi and buy her bond,” he instructed the cultivator. “Collect anything she wants to take with her and take her back to Qinghe through safe routes. I’ll take Meng Yao with me and we’ll meet there.”

“What should I do with the ownership papers? There’s a tax for taking slaves out of the county, and people might notice –”

“Burn them,” Nie Mingjue said, and Meng Yao’s heart gave a sudden thrill of delight. “She can travel as a free woman. Make sure she sees a doctor, if she thinks she would benefit from seeing one, and cover the cost – I want her to arrive at the Unclean Realm alive and well.”

Alive and well, Meng Yao thought, even more delighted. That was a warning, no doubt about it – telling the cultivator not to take advantage of Meng Shi during his trip. And a doctor! With his sect leader ordering it, the cultivator would have to take her to a good one, not some phony sawbones, and she could finally get that cough of hers looked at…

Meng Yao would do whatever this sect leader wanted. Just for that.

(It was more than his father had ever done for them.)

“Can you handle flying with four boys?” the cultivator asked, frowning, and – flying? “Especially if you already came all the way from Qinghe, and through Yunmeng, you must be exhausted –”

“I’ll be fine,” Nie Mingjue said shortly. “He’s thirteen; he can stand on his own and hold onto me, arms around my waist, while I hold on to the others…hey, are you afraid of heights?”

That question was directed at Meng Yao.

“I don’t think so,” he replied, aiming for honest. It seemed to be what this sect leader appreciated, and Meng Yao was good at figuring out and catering to people’s likes. He’d have to exert himself especially this time. “But I’ve never gone higher than the fourth floor.”

“Well, you’re about to,” Nie Mingjue said, and his saber unsheathed itself and floated on the floor. “All right, everyone back on – you can introduce yourself in the air. We still have to make the ride back to the Lotus Pier, and I’m sure your parents are worried sick already, Jiang-gongzi.”

#mdzs #meng yao #jin guangyao #nie mingjue #meng shi #my fic #my fics #targets

196 notes · View notes

yoshkeii · 4 years ago

Text

"𝙰 𝚜𝚑𝚢 𝚌𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚑"

࿐ character(s): Ushijima Wakatoshi, Daichi Sawamura, Kuroo Tetsurou

࿐ genre: sfw, soft/fluff, comfort, tiny angst if you squint

࿐ type: headcanons (hcs)? / imagine

࿐ requested by: @dumpsterfireinc

⌦ shymale!reader (he/him)

⌦ ‘if I can request comfort hcs for Ushijima, Daichi, Kuroo, and Oikawa who have a crush on as shy male!reader who thinks the boys should be with a girl and not him.’

A/N: i had to drop oikawa on this one since i cant seem to get his personality out?? i- uh-. i apologize- also my way of writing hcs is weird? idk why i like writing like that, but eventually they’ll shift- somehow- (i’ll probably make a proper hcs post if you want-)

1-16-2021: sorry in advanced if this took waaay to long. im doubting my writings. kinda shit but im just burnt out.

𝚄𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚓𝚒𝚖𝚊:

❀ Ushijima had a crush on you. of course he would, someone so soft, gentle, and shy. he actually found it cute you having those aspects. even though not a lot of people would enjoy such an introverted person at times.

❀ being shy would fit well together with his own personality generally. like being stoic and quiet himself. at some points he genuinely thought you and him were perfect. just two puzzle pieces that could fit together.

❀ he doesn’t know when he had a crush on you till Tendou or someone would bring it up. cause he always somehow had his eyes on you in the halls, classes, etc.

❀ adding on to his personality, he is very blunt and straightforward with his words. and when you heard those three words from the intimidating captain. made your heart skip a beat, muscles tense, and mind race.

❀ “..y-you.. like me??” the softened tone in your voice echoed within the empty afterschool halls.

❀ “Yes. I just stated that.”

❀ “..I heard you.. you dummy..” you muttered the last words softly. fiddling with your fingers nervously, he always found you fidgeting with something whenever you were nervous or put on the spot. your gaze kept low.

❀ the silence only just settled. making Ushijima await another word from your smaller figure.

❀ but he didn’t expect those words to slip out of your mouth. he never did.

❀ “Why.. Why would you want to be with me.. instead.” your voice still kept your softened tone, but it had a faint hint of sadness. the slight wavering of your voice gave way.

❀ “..isn’t it better to be.. with a girl instead? t-they’re better options. pretty. talented. i-i don’t.. have any of those.”

❀ Ushijima just stared, unsure on what to do. no one told him this would be a scenario or a possibility. thought it was simply just a yes or no to a confession, something quick.

❀ “You also won’t l-look.. weird.. o-odd.. with-” your voice cracked, tears gathered in your eyes. quickly wiping them away with a sniff.

❀ “F-fuck I’m sorry.. for c-crying..” softly cursing as you nervously laughed.

❀ “y/n,” Ushijima lifted your head gently with his hand making sure your eyes looked up at him, “..I don’t care, if people will look at us weirdly. I don’t care if they all knew or not.”

❀ he wiped the tears dripping from your eyes as you stared at him with disbelief.

❀ “I like you. No- I love you. That’s that. I love y/n, and nothing will stop that.”

❀ shortly, tears poured from your eyes from his words. softly murmuring apologizes for crying over this accompanied w/ a smile on your face. Ushijima just wiping your tears away for you, seeing how your face just melts in his hand in comfort. regaining composure after a couple of reassurances from him.

❀ “I-I.. I love you.. t-too.. Wakatoshi..”

𝙳𝚊𝚒𝚌𝚑𝚒:

❀ mans had a big crush on you ever since you both had multiple shared classes. especially same homeroom.

❀ Daichi and you had an decent relationship, it wasn’t as close like he has with Sugawara or Asahi. having the same homeroom, he always found you alone and minding your own business a desk or two behind him in the back.

❀ sometimes exchanging the simple hellos and small talk whenever Suga and/or Asahi dared him to. knowing how his eyes occasionally drifts towards your direction of the room.

❀ for someone so quiet.. he didn’t know it could be a cute feature. an adorable one if he would say so himself. just seems too s o f t .

❀ your gentle voice always made his heart skip a beat, it was so calming. a remedy to his ears. after a few small talks and interactions, you both managed to hang out a little more often. being invited on study dates sessions since you were also pretty smart in the academics (brownie points!)

❀ as of right now, his eyes were simply glued on you. just watching you talk about whatever subject. he really wasn’t paying attention... or at all. admiring your features from across the small table on the floor that was littered with notebooks, textbooks, papers and pens.

❀ he knew you were shy so he often kept things low and safe for you whenever you both hung out once in awhile. sometimes exchanging little sticky notes with each other to limit talking.

❀ once he confessed to you, through the last sticky note of his. not a manly way to really confess but he couldn’t figure anything else out for you. didnt want to scare you away.

❀ you stared up at the captain in slight doubt, going back to the note to reread the words written. ‘would you like to go out with me?’ tiny hearts here and there on the note.

❀ looking back up at him, you noticed the slight blush across his face. you realized he was serious.

❀ “..why would you want to go out with me?” your grip on the note slightly tightened, as thoughts began to flood your mind. “wouldn’t it be better- be better with a girl?? a-and.. not me.” you began to slip on your words, gaze slipping down to avoid his eyes as you noticed him looking up at you now.

❀ “..with.. a girl?” Daichi mustered out.

❀ “or.. anyone but... me. I’m not.. popular. I’m not.. p-pretty, c-cute.. handsome.. s-smart either...” you began to ramble, negative thoughts after another.

❀ “H-hey y/n. y/n..!” Daichi was closer to you now, his hands on your shoulders hoping to get you out of your negative trance.

❀ it successfully worked, making you stop but your gaze still remain low. hearing a sigh from Daichi made you tensed, you liked him too. you loved him. but you don’t know if it was best for him to date you. or be in a relationship in that matter.

❀ Daichi wrapped his arms around you, “Don’t be so harsh to yourself. I denied most of the confessions... j-just.. to ask you out one day you know. I’m confident I want you more than any girl.” he muttered.

❀ noticing you relaxing in his arms made him slightly smile, feeling you hug back. your hands grasping the back of his gakuran, mustering the urge to cry you hid your face on his shoulders. eventually muffling out your soft sobs and various ‘i love you too’

𝙺𝚞𝚛𝚘𝚘:

𝚊/𝚗: 𝚐𝚘𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚐𝚒𝚏 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚎 𝚚𝚞𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐.

❀ it was obvious Kuroo was crushing on someone. and that someone was you. being one of the assistances, or at this point the team would’ve eventually called you their manager. often there to aid and help whenever needed so you stumbled by the gym many times to either drop something off for one of the members or coaches.

❀ always teasing and flirting with you, which wasn’t such an out-of-character of him. knowing him to be the master of provocation. but often when you weren’t there, he would start talking about you. unconsciously sometimes.

❀ which gave a big sign of his feelings, especially through Kenma. it wasn’t so hard to see, but you were dense and oblivious over it.

❀ he knew you liked him back eventually, seeing how you haven’t turned him down with any of his teases accompanied with the slight blush on your face each time. you were just too shy to say anything about it.

❀ he was aware that you were very shy and introverted. always seeing you staying back or infront of crowds in the hallway and avoided them at all costs. being observant he took note of it.

❀ always managing to catch you away from people or just a little people in the area, he used that time to talk to you more privately.

❀ you both began to get to know each other pretty well each time.

❀ exchanging interests and moments you’ve had in your life. often making you giggle at his silly retorts and remarks, funny moments of his teams and others. he was genuinely seeing a new side of you.

❀ never really seeing you smile brightly and laugh without holding back. it felt surreal and a literal dream.

❀ “Hey, y/n, have you dated anyone yet?” Kuroo looked over at you, eyes staring in curiosity with his common sly smirk.

❀ “I-.. uhh.. n-not yet?” you nervously laughed, messing with the sleeve of your nekoma track jacket.

❀ “Well then.. do you have a crush?” he continued on.

❀ “O-oh.. Ye-yeah! He probably won’t like me b-back though..” you murmured.

❀ “Wait- He!?”

❀ “H-hey,, Kuroo! Keep y-your voice down please..!!” you playfully punched his shoulder in return he faked an ‘ow’ “..b-but.. yes.. i like a guy.. h-he’s popular so i doubt he would like me b-back.” you looked up at him with a weak smile, hoping to not seemed phased by it.

❀ “Ahhh.. why’s that then.” his curious tone turned stern, tilting his head into his palm so it rested comfortably. “hmmm~?”

❀ “Oh.. w-well.. he’s popular with the girls.. a lot of them a-actually. I bet he l-likes them more than me.. girls are b-better for him anyways...”

❀ “What if they weren’t? He could be gay.. or bisexual... or pan and all that jazz y’know y/n?”

❀ “Thats true.. what about you kuroo-san?” you took a sip of water from your bottle aside of your thigh.

❀ “I have a crush too of course. And its actually you.”

❀ you choked on the water, coughing out a reply, “w-wait you.. you like me.. me- back?!” you only looked at him with disbelief, coughing slightly still.

❀ Kuroo only laughed at your off-guard reaction, “K-kuroo!! I-it’s not funnyyy..!” you whined, covering your face with your jacket. “hhhh.. g-god damnit..”

❀ after a few moments it went silently, peeking your eyes out from your hidden position Kuroo pecked your forehead. Suddenly aside of you, entwining his hand with yours.

❀ “Of course I like you back~ I want you to be my boyfriend you softie.”

#at-dusk;- 🌆#folder 📁;- 𝙷𝚊𝚒𝚔𝚢𝚞𝚞 #haikyuu x male reader #haikyuu x reader #x reader #kuroo tetsuro x male reader #daichi sawamura x male reader #ushijima wakatoshi x male reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #daichi sawamura x reader #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #Ushijima Wakatoshi #Daichi Sawamura #Kuroo Tetsurou

446 notes · View notes

vvideonasties · 4 years ago

Text

clear-cut

"Good morning," Jon says.

"Um," Martin replies.

Jon then realises that him holding a pair of scissors so close to his eyes not long after ranting about gouging them out would be rather concerning at first glance.

word count: 2k

pairing: jonmartin

warnings: discussion of canon related trauma, thoughts about body autonomy

While rifling through the kitchen drawers, Jon is unsurprised by the plethora of blades Daisy owns. There’s every kind of knife you could fathom and, thankfully, a few pairs of scissors. Grabbing what appears to be the sharpest pair (though they all look pretty damn sharp), he heads to the bathroom. He clutches the white of the porcelain sink and stares into the mirror impassively.

He used to actually quite like his long hair. He’d play with it while he was working, twirling the thick locks around his fingers and untangling knots absentmindedly. When he’d get frustrated he’d pull it out of its tie and tug at it. It was a strange way to ground himself.

Now, though. It’s been used too much for other people’s gain, has been in too many people’s hands for it to truly belong to him. The gravity it provided began to dissipate when Daisy attacked him - she’d grabbed a chunk of it and used it to yank back his head to expose the vulnerable expanse of his neck. As he’d stood there under the mercy of her blade, shaking and pleading, the stinging in his scalp lingered the entire time. It only got worse from there - the awful attempt at tenderness displayed by the Stranger as Nikola brushed aside a few strands to gain access to more flesh, to paste moisturiser onto it with her stiff fingers. The dirt he couldn’t quite scrub out of it after he left the Buried, even when he sat in the tub for hours on end. Even when the water began to run clear, he could still feel the clumps weighing him down, making his head loll to the side with it.

After all that, it wasn’t much to him. He’d wash it, dry it, tie it up. Try not to think of it.

Jon stares down at the gleaming scissors in the sink determinedly. Cutting it off won’t solve much, if anything at all, but it would make him feel a little more comfortable. It’s one of the only things he can control about himself at the moment. If he doesn’t like the way it looks, then fine. It’ll grow back.

His hand flexes and clenches into a fist. Tighten, relax, tighten, relax.

He reaches for the scissors and holds a piece of hair in front of his face, the blades open, hungry, ready to receive.

Then there comes a short, polite cough. He turns to see Martin standing just outside the bathroom, eyes a little wider than normal.

"Good morning," Jon says.

"Um," Martin replies.

Jon then realises that him holding a pair of scissors so close to his eyes not long after ranting about gouging them out would be rather concerning at first glance.

“I’m cutting my hair,” he clarifies, and Martin seems to relax at that.

“Okay.” A pause. “Why?”

He puts down the scissors and shrugs, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

“Just felt like it,” he says, which is kind of true. “Not particularly attached to it anymore.”

Martin hums, taking him at his word. He walks over on socked feet, close enough that Jon can feel the heat radiating from him. There’s a brief moment where his hands pass over the scissors.

“I could help?”

Jon turns to face him completely, brow furrowed. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, it’s just that I have experience? Kind of? I cut my own, and I used to cut my mum’s as well...” Martin’s mouth twists downwards at that, and Jon just frowns harder. “I won’t give you my mum’s style, I promise!” He jokes weakly. It falls flat, and the whole atmosphere feels stilted.

“Okay. Why not.”

“...Are you sure? I don’t want to interrupt your whole-”

“It’s fine. I could use some help reaching the back anyway.” As much as he just wants to lop all of it off, he doesn’t want it to look messy.

Martin seems to brighten, probably at the relief of having something to focus on, and he walks off to grab a chair from the small dining table as Jon hovers awkwardly. He positions it in the living room, close to the small TV they’ve been using sporadically. They’ve been steadily working their way through the small cabinet full of DVDs underneath it. However, Jon isn’t exactly sure how long they’re going to be staying, so they might have to...ration them. The week they’ve been here hasn’t exactly been the most vibrant when it comes to entertainment. Maybe one day they’ll relent and open up the dusty box of Monopoly. That could very well be a major test of their relationship, though.

At least, Jon thinks this is a relationship. They haven’t talked about it all that much. All that mattered in the beginning was escaping the Lonely, leaving London, then getting settled here. They’re fumbling around blindly in the dark, and all Jon knows is he wants to hold onto Martin as tightly as possible.

That little train of thought is interrupted by the small clink of Martin taking the scissors off of the sink and grabbing a towel from the rack. He gestures to the chair, inviting Jon to sit, and when he does so he feels the towel being gently wrapped around his shoulders.

There’s the brief sensation of Jon’s hair being pulled at, only slightly, and he sucks in a sharp breath.

“Okay?” Martin whispers. He understands without knowing, somehow, and Jon is glad that he can’t see the way his face is taut with apprehension, tinged with pain.

“Okay,” he whispers back, trying to emulate Martin’s tone.

“Can I use your tie?” His voice is still soft, and Jon should feel patronised, but he mostly feels soothed. “Just so it’s easier to cut through.”

Jon wordlessly removes the tie from his wrist and hands it over. He tries to hide the little shiver that passes over him when their fingers brush. Martin begins to hum a tune as he gathers the hair up into one handful (not like they did, he would never, it’s Martin, always so good to him), then creates a loose ponytail that falls to his shoulders.

“Fine so far?” Jon nods tentatively. “Alright then.”

There’s the distinct sound of the blades opening, and in one fluid motion Jon feels the weight he’d been carrying leave him.

“There.” Martin comes into view, holding the thick, dark ponytail aloft, smiling crookedly.

“Oh,” he croaks. “That’s...a lot.” His hand comes up to brush his the side of his head, then travels down and grasps at thin air where hair was a second ago. The cut seems to stop at his jaw, the small strands remaining ghosting over his skin.

“It is. Can I keep going?”

Jon, hand still close to his head, makes a noise of assent. Martin takes a second to throw away what’s been cut then returns. He sinks his hands into Jon's scalp, massaging the tension out of it, and Jon makes an unbidden noise of satisfaction that causes his motions to still.

"God, sorry, did I hurt-"

"No! No, it's okay. It felt nice." It felt really nice.

Martin clicks his tongue and continues for a while longer, fingers digging into Jon’s scalp over and over in a wonderful, rhythmic motion until Jon is practically boneless and falling asleep in the chair. He wonders if there’s a not-weird way to ask for this again outside of a hair cutting context.

“So how short are we going here? You kind of have a bob right now,” Martin laughs.

Jon hadn’t really thought about that. He just wanted it off, away, binned and out of his face. He shrugs. “I don’t know, short? Whatever you think will suit me.”

“Any hairstyle would suit you,” Martin points out, like it’s nothing. Jon smiles. “But I’ll do my best.”

A few moments of Martin muttering to himself and circling around the chair is followed by the coolness of the dual blades against the curve of Jon’s ear, the shhk of them pressing together giving him goosebumps. He clearly has done this many times before, given the confident way he navigates the scissors. Jon certainly couldn’t have done this alone, at least not without making a fool out of himself. Martin brushes some hair away from the nape of his neck. His hands are very warm.

“Y’know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with short hair.”

Jon turns to him, puzzled. “Really?”

The thing with Jon is, when he cares about someone a lot, he tends to insert them in all of his memories, assuming that they’ve always been around (he also has the memory of a goldfish, but he’s sure that’s a whole other thing). Martin has become such an integral part of his life, standing neatly by his side like it’s nothing. Like he was meant to be there and always has.

“It has been quite a few years now, I suppose. Last I remember it was this short I was still in research.” When he goes to touch his head again he notes that he can feel for his ears without having to move a mountain of hair aside.

“Better late than never, I guess! I’m gonna move to the front now.”

Martin has to position himself at an awkward angle to use the scissors properly, his back practically curved into a C shape. His gaze is focused and intense, his lower lip caught between his teeth. Hair falls on Jon’s face as he snips, making him wrinkle his nose and grimace.

“Sorry. You can wash it off soon.”

Jon nods minutely. Then he sneezes. Martin just smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners, then continues.

He remembers why he rarely went to get a professional haircut now. That strange intimacy that comes with someone being so close to you - a stranger - it always disturbed him. The idle chatter that made him grit his teeth, how they’d act like they knew him. Then he didn’t have the time or energy to cut it himself after...everything.

Now he’s looking at Martin, though. It’s odd, yes. Intimate? Definitely. He doesn’t know whether to close his eyes or keep them open. But he’s always found it very hard to turn his gaze away from Martin regardless.

His eyes are a lovely shade of deep blue, and he has far too many scars alongside the smattering of freckles on his face. He looks tired. Very much so. There’s crows feet at the corners of his eyes and lines on his forehead. He notes absently that he actually has a thick beard, too. Of course he noticed it beforehand - he’s felt it scratching the back of his neck when he wakes in the morning with Martin’s arms around him - but it’s worth pointing out. It makes him look much older, especially since the grey in it seems to be overtaking the red.

Martin stands up straight and runs his hands through Jon’s hair a few times before standing back, head tilted to the side.

“I think we’re done. It’s not amazing, but.”

Jon is already shrugging off the towel and heading to the bathroom mirror, feeling weirdly nervous.

He certainly looks different. Unfortunately, though he searched high and low for them, Daisy doesn’t own any clippers. Martin did the best he could with what he had - he’s kept it a bit longer towards the front, some strands grazing his forehead, but the rest is cropped closely to his scalp. Jon tentatively touches it and leans forward. He tries to grasp a chunk of it, see if it’s long enough to pull. He fails.

“It’s perfect.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” Jon says firmly. “It’s just what I needed.” He walks back over to Martin and wraps his arms around him instinctively, sighing with contentment when he responds in kind.

“Thank you,” he mumbles into Martin’s t-shirt.

“Of course.” Martin is stroking the back of his neck gently. “You look very handsome.”

Jon’s face burns at the compliment, and he chooses to hide it further rather than reply. They stand there for a while, hair scattered around the floor like autumn leaves, and it feels like a new beginning.

#lil writes #jonmartin #ive been thinking a lot about hair and people's relationship to their hair recently. like. why it means so much to some of us #and it morphed into this #hair is one of the few things we can control since its physical and mostly our own #idk i just feel like its a good way for jon to reclaim some part of himself. it certainly feels that way for me so maybe i am Projecting #anyways! take it!#i was actually gonna write a sequel about martin and his hair but focusing on the hc i have that he grows a beard in s4 so he doesnt have-#to see his own face as much. but lets see how this one is received first!#tumblr is such a bad place to post fic because feedback is so sparse. god.#ILL SHUT UP NOW BYE #oh wait i need to tag #the magnus archives

215 notes · View notes