#sorry i will draw something serious eventually
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factual-fantasy · 1 day ago
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26 asks! Thank you! :}}} đŸȘČ
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Oh absolutely I do. That's why I always ask before drawing anyone's OCs, or using/modifying their original meme templates, or anything of the sort. Friends and strangers alike.
And same goes for AU ideas. In the past I've seen a really cool idea for an AU and tracked down the OP and asked if I could incorporate their idea into my AU as well. I do my very best to do this for other artists because its what I wish people would do for me.👍👍
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I have a master post for all my Octonauts artwork here. 👍
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@ripchaos69
I'm really proud of/pleased with how this fairy piece came out! :DD
I also really like how this pixelated cat came out! :)
I was very pleased with how WALL-E cam out in this piece!
I also think this is one of the best drawings of Optimus I've ever done! :))
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Even if I knew the answer, that's probably not something I should share online anyways is it?
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@mothpendragon
I remember not liking him at all the first time I watched the show. But now watching it a second time years later, I think he's really not that bad. :0 In fact I don't know why I disliked him so much back then.
There are some parts about his character that annoy me. But most of that either is good character writing or isn't his fault. I don't like how immature he tends to be, but of course he's immature. He's still basically just a kid who hasn't experienced much of this war.
And when things get rough, he really straightens out and tries his best to be serious and obedient. Which is very nice to see.
Another thing that I don't like is how the phase shifter was kind'a overused. It became his signature weapon that he used to bail him out of everything. Smokescreen has demonstrated that he's actually pretty clever and slick, it would have been fun to see him trick or outsmart the cons more often instead of just using the phase shifter to save his aft every time. But again, this is not Smokescreens fault at all. Its the writers fault for making his use it so much.
And lastly, something that really made me like Smokescreen was the whole thing that happened with Optimus nearly dying. Smokescreen freaking out at the prospect of becoming a Prime felt really real. Instead of being honored and having and having an inflated ego like I thought he might for some reason- he was terrified.
And him panicking and using the forge to repair Optimus last second felt very real. I could really understand how Smokescreen must have felt, wanting to follow Optimus's orders and restore their home, but also being unable to bare the responsibility of being a Prime. Eventually dragging Optimus back to the land of the living and throwing away any hope of restoring the Omega lock.
If I was better at analyzing characters, I would have loved to draw a comic about what happens right after Optimus was repaired.
My first thought is Smokescreen feeling guilty and ashamed of having used the forge against Optimus's wishes. Would Smokescreen crumble? Fall to his knees, crying and apologizing? "I'm so sorry Optimus- I just couldn't do it-- I couldn't do it, I cant be a Prime- I couldn't-- w-we couldn't lose you.." Is that in character? Honestly I have no idea. 😔
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I've thought about doing that for my lineless style, but I haven't gotten around to it.. 😓
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If someone goes out of their way to comment on your post/in your ask box saying you're cringe for liking transformers, block the all the way to the sun and back.
What a jerk. I wouldn't be friends with anyone who goes around insulting/trying to upset people for no reason like that. Block them and don't accept/respond any phony apology they might throw your way. They knew they were being rude when they sent that message and deserve to be blocked.
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Dude I would take that so fast. No one in my family would ever have to work or have debt ever again 😭
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I figure if I ever feel like drawing/posting Octonauts art again, I would just put it behind a paywall on my Ko-fi. Which ngl I've thought about doing a lot recently with the new movie that came out.
But also- I would have no way of filtering out people for that private blog because how am I supposed to know who will and wont steal my artwork just by looking at their account? And when it did get stolen, I would have no way of knowing which follower did it-
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I believe I've mentioned it before, but I didn't want to watch Rescue bots because its attached to Transformers: Prime <:/
Its supposed to be connected to Prime, but its rather baby-ified. The tone is much more light hearted, the plot of Rescue bots completely rewrites/contradicts the plot of Prime, Optimus comes back to life for no reason. Stuff like that.
Atm I'm only interested in Prime 😔
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@kitkat1003
OUGUHHH SO REALLLLL 😭😭😭😭
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REALLL I've only ever found ship fics😔😔😔 I'd love to see an aftermath fic with no romance involved.
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@virtualworldfp5
That's a really cool idea! :D Great artwork too! :))
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@badlyblurry
Man, if I had a nickel for every time Jeffery Combs played a character with some sort of scientist background and that had some form of contact with a green chemical compound that holds harmful properties to one body in a way, I'd have 3 nickels. Which isn't a lot but its weird that it happened 3 times. XD
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@anonymous-red-shades
I'd definitely want to be something that can fly :00 But I don't think I'd wanna fly super fast because i wanna enjoy the scenery.. hmmm.. maybe a helicopter or a classic pontoon plane? :000
As for abilities... uhhhhhhh the only special abilities I know that transformers can have is the warping thing that Skywarp does. I don't know of any other powers <:0 Maybe an ability to change into more than one alt mode..? So I could be a submarine and go underwater? Or maybe the ability to breathe underwater or something? :00
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(Referencing this post)
They're so unhinged I swear 😔
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@chickenmilk120 (Referencing this post)
NOT YOU TOO-
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@cherrycreamfairy
I couldn't find any websites that didn't make my anti virus tweak out <XD So the only villain I like from memory is Captain Gantu from Lilo and Stitch.
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I still like it yeah :0 but I'm not really engaging in any Mandalorian media atm-
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@minnesotamedic186
Okay the killing part aside a Plymouth Fury is an excellent choice of car ngl. Especially a fiery red 💅💅💅
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@axolotlcookie0
The fact that it looks like Thomas's face has been bagged makes it even funnier XDDD
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@wolfie-777
XD I actually think of that a lot yeah. I always tell myself "oooo I should draw that later" but I never do XD💀
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@beryl-shade
Bibi would probably use it as intended. Sharpening and cleaning his claws💅💅
Meanwhile Cici would use it as a weapon to beat up Jangles and Gerald with XDD
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What was his real name supposed to be in that continuity then? XD
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@milk-powrit
References. Looooots and looooot of references.
Typically I use references of realistic skeletons. But if there's a part of the body that I just cant seem to draw right, then I look up drawings of skeletons to see how other artists drew that part. 👍
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@beryl-shade
Oh no doubt they'll have an episode that takes place around the lake and the fair grounds(?) The theme park next to the main tent-
The fact that Caine mentioned their existence at all implies that an episode is going to take place there. At least for me-
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vaynglories · 3 months ago
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the yapperrrrrr
(apologies to neil c.)
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geminiwritten · 3 months ago
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baby sister ; jake 'hangman' seresin
fandom: top gun
pairing: jake x reader
summary: hangman has a serious crush on you, it might even be love, but it's a little complicated seeing as rooster is your older brother
notes: yes, i finally watched top gun (i'm stubborn, okay), and yes, i am obsessed! i'm not too sure how i feel about this, but it's my first one so please be kind! i also tried writing it by kind of switching pov's, so sorry if its weird / confusing! but as always, i love feedback so please, please let me know what you think x
warnings: swearing, very minor physical altercation with a creepy guy, boner joke, switching pov's (kind of), protective older brother, and likely some very inaccurate us navy details
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word count: 7493
- One Year Ago -
The old bar smells exactly as you remember it; wood polish, worn leather, stale beer, and a hint of ocean air. It’s a lot cleaner than it used to be – the soles of your shoes aren’t sticking to the floor – and you assume that’s thanks to the new owner. It isn’t as busy as you would expect for Friday at 4PM, which you’re somewhat thankful for as you easily find a spare barstool beside the vacant pool table.
“What can I get you?” the bartender asks with a polite smile.
“Just a water, please.”
He retrieves a bottle from the fridge below the bar while you check your pockets for cash, pulling out a few dollars and handing it to him in exchange for the water. He smiles again before turning around to serve patrons on the other side of the bar, and you start drawing shapes in the condensation of the bottle while you wait.
“This seat taken?” someone asks, appearing beside you.
Startled, you turn quickly to find a pair of green eyes much closer than expected. You’d have to be stupid not to immediately notice that this guy is gorgeous, but the smirk on his lips tells you that he knows it too.
“Not yet,” you reply with a tight-lipped smile.
He sits himself on the stool and signals the bartender, ordering a schooner of pale ale draught before pulling a few notes out of his back pocket. He isn’t in uniform, but you can tell by the way he holds himself that he’s an officer.
“I haven’t seen you around here before,” he says, “are you visiting?”
You nod before taking a large sip of water, your eyes constantly watching the new patrons that enter through the main door. You know better than to flirt with a lieutenant (guessing by his age), your mother always told you to stay away from military men.
“Have you been to North Island before?” he asks, seemingly unphased by your lack of enthusiasm for conversation.
“Yeah, a few times.”
“Military family?”
“Sort of,” you reply.
“Okay, let me guess,” he leans both elbows on the bar and looks at you, unleashing the full power of his pretty green eyes, “your dad was military, gone for months at a time with little to no contact, which left your mom to raise you all on her own. You would hear her crying at night and watch her struggle every day, but then when your dad got home, he was the hero; forget about all her hard work. Eventually, your mom got sick of being alone and began to resent him, so they grew apart and the next thing you know, dad moves out with his new girlfriend and mum tells you every single day never to date a man in the military.”
You can’t help the small smile tugging at your lips, because damn this man is pretty, and you simply can’t find it in yourself to ignore him.
“Close,” you say, “but it was her first husband who was military, and he died in action. My father was a banker, safe but boring, and it didn’t work out. But you are right about one thing; mom has always told me not to date a man in the military.”
“Oh,” he takes a long sip of his beer, stalling as he tries to think of something to say that isn’t totally insensitive.
“Not that I always listen to what she says,” you add with a smirk, making him choke on his mouthful of beer.
He looks back at you, shocked but still smiling, “Are you flirting with me?”
Your turn sideways on the stool to face him, opening your mouth to reply when a familiar sight walking toward you catches your attention. You stop and smile, looking straight past the man sitting beside you.
“Hey Baby,” Bradley says with a grin.
“Hey,” you jump off the stool, “how are you?”
“Woah, hey,” the green-eyed man stands too, a slight frown between his brows, "Rooster, c’mon man. You’re going to have to find yourself another girl; let’s not make this a competition too.”
Bradley’s brows shoot up toward his hairline, and you have to roll your lips to keep from giggling.
“Oh, here we go,” one of the men who walked in with Bradley chuckles, and you think you can remember meeting him the last time you visited.
“A competition?” Bradley repeats, his tone mildly threatening.
“Wait,” the man glances between you and Bradley, “are you two dating?”
Bradley scoffs, “Absolutely not.”
“Then why did you call her baby?”
“It’s her nickname, genius,” the same man as before says, and you suddenly remember Bradley introducing him to you last summer. You never did find out his real name, but they call him Payback.
The green-eyed man turns to you in shock, “Like, your call sign?”
You shake your head, “I don’t fly.”
“She wishes,” Bradley says as he slings an arm around your shoulders. “Hangman, this is Baby, as in my baby sister.”
The poor man chokes so hard on his beer, you’re surprised it doesn’t spray out his nose. He coughs and splutters, holding a hand on his chest while the rest of Bradley’s friends laugh from around the pool table. Bradley chuckles too, seemingly satisfied with the damage he’s caused, before turning to give you a proper hug.
“How was the flight?” he asks.
“Not terrible, but I swear my bag was the last to come out on the carousel.”
He releases you from his hold and orders two beers from the bartender, handing you one soon as its poured. “You remember my friends, don’t you?” he asks as he turns to face the game of pool, “Payback and Fanboy, and that’s Bob; I don’t think you met him last summer.”
You smile and give an awkward wave, not bothering to walk around and shake everyone’s hands in the middle of a game.
“Dude,” Fanboy says to Hangman, who is now standing on the opposite side of the pool table, “I can’t believe you were hitting on Rooster’s little sister.”
“Hey,” Hangman frowns, “she was hitting on me back.”
Bradley’s head whips toward you, his eyes wide, “You what?”
“Oh, calm down Braddy,” you say, “I can look after myself.”
Payback snickers, “Braddy?”
“Aw, Braddy,” Fanboy coos.
Bradley shoots you a glare as you slip out from under his arm to find a seat, grinning sheepishly at your brother as his friends continue to mock your nickname for him. After half an hour and two pool games – these guys are freakishly good – another two lieutenants join the group, introducing themselves as Coyote and Phoenix.
“So,” Phoenix says as she sits on the stool beside you, “what brings you to North Island, aside from missing your big brother?”
Even though Bradley’s back is to you as he takes a shot, you know he’s rolling his eyes.
“Well, I usually try and visit more than once a year, but he’s hardly been on the ground in the past twelve months,” you say, “then Uncle Pete called me a few weeks ago and said he was going on a trip with Penny. So, he asked if I could come babysit Braddy for a while.”
“Aw,” she giggles, “Braddy needs a babysitter?”
Bradley flicks your arm as he walks past, circling the pool table to find the best angle, “Would you stop telling people embarrassing shit about me.”
You shrug, “How was I supposed to know that you were pretending to be cool?”
The rest of the group laugh as Bradley completely botches his shot, sinking the white ball.
“I’m sorry, Rooster, but I definitely like her better,” Hangman says with a smirk.
You roll your lips as you look over at the lieutenant, appreciating how tight his t-shirt is as he bends forward over the pool table to take his shot.
Bradley points at him, “You better cut it out, she is off limits.”
- Present -
You decided to move to San Diego about two weeks after flying in last summer, and it had nothing to do with the beach day you went on with Bradley and his friends, where Jake tackled you in the surf, all shirtless and wet and muscly. Bradley was beyond excited to have his little sister closer to him, he even helped get you a desk job in the operations department. It wasn’t anything close to what he was doing, protecting the country and all that, but you’re liking it way better than your old job. Which again, has nothing to do with the fact that you get to take lunch breaks with a certain lieutenant. Your brother is there too, but you don’t fancy staring at him, you’ve seen enough of him over the years.
“Are you going to eat or stare?” Natasha asks, nudging your side with her elbow.
The mouthful of pasta that had been balancing on your fork falls off and plops back into your bowl. You turn to her, your eyebrows furrowed, “Huh?”
“My God, you’re practically drooling.”
“Is the pasta good?” Jake asks, clearly having overheard and misunderstood your conversation, “I knew I should have chosen that; the sloppy joes are too sloppy.”
He leans across the table and takes your fork, stabbing it into a few pieces of pasta before popping it in his mouth. Your heart thuds in your chest as you watch his lips wrap around the utensil that was previously in your mouth, and you want to be ashamed of yourself for allowing something so frivolous to get you so excited, but you simply can’t help it. With your brother the constant cock-block always hanging around, sharing a fork is the closest you’ve gotten to Jake in the year that you’ve been here.
“Mm,” he groans, “that is good.”
“You can have it,” you push the bowl toward him, “I’m not that hungry.”
“Yeah, and you just contaminated her fork,” Bradley says, smacking Jake’s shoulder.
“I don’t think she minds,” Natasha pipes in.
Oblivious, Jake looks up with a huge mouthful of pasta making his cheeks puff out, and somehow, he still looks adorable. You shoot a subtle glare at Natasha from the corner of your eye before picking up the apple from your tray and biting into it.
“So,” you turn your attention to your brother, “The Hard Deck after work?”
He nods, “Yep, I’ve got a year of free beers to win.”
Natasha rolls her eyes, “It’s cute that you think you have a chance of winning in a pool comp against me.”
“Or me,” Jake adds.
Bradley snorts, “Please, you’ve been so off your game lately, and Phoenix” – he turns to look at her – “is good, but not as good as me.”
“You are so full of yourself, do you know that?” Natasha says, her eyes narrowed at Bradley.
You quickly tune out as they launch into a petty argument about who is better at pool and who is going to win The Hard Deck’s billiards tournament, having heard it almost a hundred times over the past month. It’s an eight-week competition, every Thursday night, and this is only the fifth week but you’re pretty sure you’re going to kill your brother if he doesn’t stop bragging about being undefeated so far. Then again, he hasn’t yet had to play against half of the dagger squad, arguably the best pool players on North Island.
“Alright, we better go,” Bradley says, nudging Jake again.
Jake scrapes the last of the pasta from the bowl into his mouth before standing from his chair and leaning across the table toward you. “Thanks Baby,” he says with a wink, “I owe you one.” He drops the empty bowl on your tray and slides your tray across the table, stacking it on top of his.
When he straightens up, both trays in his hands, Bradley is glaring. “Watch it, Seresin.”
“What? I was just thanking her,” Jake says innocently, “don’t get your panties in a knot.”
You roll your eyes and stand up from your chair, “See you guys later, then?”
Jake can’t help himself, and he turns toward you wearing his most charming grin, “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
“Dude!” Bradley exclaims, smacking him in the shoulder.
Natasha sighs, despite the amused smirk on her lips, “Come on you two, fight about it later.”
You roll your lips to keep from giggling, because you know that will only irritate Bradley more, but you’re pretty sure your cherry red cheeks are about to give something away. Before your brother can notice the way Jake’s words have affected you, you turn on your heel and head back toward your office, anticipation bubbling in your stomach for tonight.
- Jake -
Maverick ended today’s training half an hour early, dismissing everyone but Rooster since he still had sixty-two push ups to do after betting that he could catch Phoenix and Bob before Mav could. He was wrong, but Jake admires the cockiness.
The rest of the squad have already made their way to the locker rooms, eager to shower and change and get to The Hard Deck for a well-earned drink. There’s no current mission for the dagger squad, no impending doom, so that on top of the excitement for the billiards comp has everyone in the highest of spirits. Everyone but Jake, of course.
He’s the last to enter the locker room, dragging his feet and slowly unzipping his flight suit as he weaves through the rest of the boys toward his locker. He isn’t sad by any means, just frustrated, because it seems that the longer you live in San Diego, the more protective your brother gets. His rule about you being off limits isn’t easing any time soon, and neither is Jake’s crush.
“What’s the matter with you?” Coyote asks, shoving his flight suit into his locker right beside Jake’s.
“Hm?” Jake looks up from his feet, “Oh, nothing, just distracted.”
Payback peers around from the other side of Coyote’s locker, his lips curled into a smirk, “So, how’s that hideously inappropriate and all-consuming crush on Rooster’s little sister going?”
“Oh, yeah, it’s great,” Jake says sarcastically, “I should be ready to kill myself any day now.”
The rest of the boys dissolve into laughter, each pausing in various stages of undress to giggle about Jake’s unfortunate situation. Everyone but Rooster and Phoenix know at this point, having easily figured it out by the way Jake can’t seem to focus anytime you’re in the same room, and thankfully, none of them plan on outing his little secret anytime soon. Jake likes to think it’s because they’re afraid that Rooster might shoot the messenger, and while that might be a small part of it, he knows it’s really because they feel sorry for him. The first girl who Hangman actually wants something real with, and it’s the little sister of Bradley Bradshaw.
However, Jake is surprised that Phoenix hasn’t yet figured it out, but grateful nonetheless, since she’s way too close to you to have that kind of ammunition under her belt. There have been a few times where he thought she might be onto him, little glances at you whenever he gets too flirty and subtle comments that could have underlying meanings, but she hasn’t confronted him about it yet, so he assumes she’s just as clueless as Rooster is.
“Come on, Hangman,” Fanboy says from the opposite row of lockers, “it can’t be that bad.”
“You want to bet?” Jake asks, glancing over his shoulder. “I got half a bar at lunch today because I used the same fork as her.”
The laughter, having died down for a moment, picks up again with renewed vigour. Even Bob, who is usually quiet and refuses to comment when the boys start teasing Jake about his crush, is giggling into his open locker, shoulders shaking.
“Oh, man,” Coyote says between fits of laughter, “you’re down bad.”
“What’s so funny?” Rooster asks, standing in front of the door as it swings shut behind him.
The laughter quickly subsides and everyone turns to hide their faces in their lockers, all but Jake who is left staring at Rooster’s quizzical frown.
“Coyote was just saying that he nearly soiled himself today when Mav pulled that cobra manoeuvre in front of him,” Jake lies, at which Coyote shoots him a glare.
Rooster chuckles, “Oh, really? I didn’t catch that.”
“Too busy running your mouth, Rooster,” Fanboy chimes in.
“Yeah, how’s your stomach after those two-hundred push ups?” Payback asks as he walks toward Rooster with an evil grin, reeling his fist back to strike his friend in the abdomen.
Rooster evades the attack, eyes wide, “Don’t even think about it, my abs are on fire right now.”
Jake relaxes as casual conversation picks back up; Rooster seemingly fooled by his lie as he jokes around with the rest of the squad. They all strip out of their flight suits and shower before changing into civilian clothes, packing their gear into their lockers, and heading out the door. Those who aren’t headed to The Hard Deck bid their goodbyes, while those eager for a beer begin making their way to the bar.
“Should we wait for the girls?” Jake asks as they walk toward Rooster’s car.
“Well, at least one of us has to,” Bob replies, glancing around the group of six.
Rooster tosses his keys in the air and catches them again in the palm of his hand, “Fight it out amongst yourselves boys.”
“It’s fine, I’ll wait for them,” Jake offers quickly.
Fanboy has to stifle his laughter behind his hand, pretending to rub his nose.
“That’s unlike you to be so obliging, Hangman,” Coyote says, his narrowed eyes telling Jake that he’s still bitter about being thrown under the bus earlier.
“I actually think I left my watch in my locker, so I have to run back anyway,” Jake lies again.
“Easy done,” Rooster, oblivious as ever, says, “climb on in fellas, I’m thirsty.”
The rest of the group all move toward Rooster’s car and pile in, while Jake turns his back and pulls out his phone to text Phoenix, asking her to wait for him if the two of you exit the locker room before he’s done ‘looking for his watch’.
More and more of late, Jake has been doing things that are ‘unlike him’ in order to gain more time with you away from your brother, the ever-present cock-block. It isn’t often that he has the chance, and he knows his behaviour is becoming noticeable, but until Rooster confronts him for trying to spend time with you, he’s going to keep trying.
He runs in and out of the locker room, simply to keep up the lie, before fishing his watch out of his pocket and strapping it to his wrist as he walks back toward the car park. He could recognise you from a mile away, all perfect and effortless, leaning casually against Phoenix’s car and twirling a stray piece of hair as Phoenix talks to you. The closer he gets, the more he can see that whatever Phoenix is saying is intense, and it’s making you nervous. Your hair twirling is less idle and more anxious as Phoenix stresses her words with her hands, looking exasperated.
A part of him wants to sneak up and try to catch the conversation, but before he can think too hard about how he could become stealthier, Phoenix spots him. “Come on Bagman, hurry it up!” she calls across the lot.
You glance over your shoulder, locking eyes with him and he simply cannot stop the grin that takes over his lips. “Don’t get your panties in a twist, Trace,” he says, though his eyes never leave yours.
Phoenix scoffs, “What’s your obsession with panties today?”
When he comes within a few feet of you, he frowns and turns his attention to Phoenix, “What?”
“First Rooster at lunch and now me,” she says. “Are you not getting laid or something?”
The way her eyes drift over to you as she speaks, a smirk threatening to curl her lip, has Jake’s heart racing. Does she know? How could she know?
He clears his throat and wills himself to seem unaffected by her taunt, but whatever smart-lipped quip that he would usually respond with refuses to pop into his head. He panics, sweat prickling the back of his neck. Phoenix turns her attention away from you and back to him, her playful smile slowly fading as the silence stretches and he struggles to retort. If she didn’t know before, she definitely knows now.
“Oh, leave him alone, Nat,” your voice breaks the tension, “we all know Hangman has no trouble with the ladies.”
Phoenix shakes her head, as if needing the physical queue to stop her own spiralling thoughts. “So he tells us,” she says, grabbing the handle on the driver’s side door, “but I’m yet to witness his skills in action.”
She casts Jake one last dubious glance before opening the door and taking her seat behind the wheel. You turn to him then, your gaze holding him captive as you ask, “Do you want shotgun?”
He shakes his head, swallowing on his dry throat, “You take it, I’m good in the back.”
- You -
Jake looks like he’s seen a ghost as he stares out the window of the car, watching the Naval Air Station pass by as Natasha drives toward the exit gates. You can’t help glancing at him in the rear view mirror every few seconds, only able to see a portion of his side profile with the angle of the mirror, but it’s still enough to know that he doesn’t look normal.
As a matter of fact, Natasha looks a little odd too, as if she’s trying to silently solve a math problem in her head. Her eyes are narrowed, her brows furrowed, and her hands are holding the steering wheel tightly at ten and two. She too keeps glancing in the rearview mirror, whether looking at Jake or simply checking the traffic, you can’t tell, but her shoulders stay tense and her lips pressed firmly together.
“So,” you say, swivelling in your chair to properly look at Jake, “how was flight school?”
His face breaks into a soft smile and your pulse triples its speed, your heart thundering in your chest as you stare into his pretty green eyes. “I graduated flight school a while ago, darlin’,” he says.
You love when he uses a pet name other than your nickname, because ‘baby’ just doesn’t have the same ring when its something your whole family uses.
“I know, but I heard Maverick over the comms say that he was going to send the lot of you back to flight school.”
Jake chuckles, “You were listening on the comms?”
You shrug, “Sometimes I listen in, just to be nosey.”
You really only do it so you can enjoy Jake’s voice throughout the day, because something about Jake in that cockpit doing what he does best gets you incredibly hot and bothered. What can you say? You’re a masochist.
“Well, I better start watching my language,” he says, “or I can just tell Mav that you’ve been listening in.”
Your eyes widen, “You wouldn’t do that.”
His smile turns into a smirk, “You sure about that?”
All you want to do is crawl into the back seat and crush your lips against his. He looks good enough to eat right now, fresh from a shower, his damp hair a little spikier than usual, and his green eyes sparkling with mischief and something else you can’t quite place.
“Speaking of Mav,” Natasha pipes in, “he said he was going to stop by the bar tonight.”
Great, not only a brother but a cock-blocking uncle too. Well, uncle figure.
“Oh, fun,” you say, trying not to sound so sarcastic, but Natasha isn’t stupid. She catches your displeased tone and shoots you a knowing look, her lips now curled into a smug smile. At least she seems to have figured out her math problem.
A minute later, Natasha pulls the car into the gravel parking lot of The Hard Deck bar. She finds a park right next to Rooster’s car, and the three of you climb out in silence. You can hear the jukebox playing from outside as you approach the main door, Natasha in the lead and typing a message on her phone while you and Jake follow closely behind.
“Nervous?” you ask him, referring to the pool comp.
He chuckles, “Only because you’ll be watching, darlin’.”
Butterflies erupt in your stomach, their wings making you sick with nerves as they flutter violently. You want to reply, but your brain is complete mush as you stare back at his gorgeous grin, so all you can do is playfully roll your eyes and bump your shoulder against his.
The three of you enter the bar and make a beeline for the familiar faces seated at the booth closest to the pool table. The cues and balls are nowhere to be found, and there’s a sign written in black marker laying on the green felt that reads ‘POOL COMP IN SESSION, DO NOT TOUCH’.
Before you can reach your brother and the rest of the squad, Natasha grabs your hand and tugs you toward the bar. “Want a drink?” she asks, moving too quickly for Jake to follow.
You glance over your shoulder and watch him watch you with a confused frown as he takes a seat at the booth with the rest of the group. Natasha pulls you a decent way away from the squad, finding an open space at the bar and leaning against it, but she doesn’t flag down Penny or Jimmy.
“I think Seresin likes you,” she says, her voice low and eyes wide.
Your stomach does a somersault, “What?”
“I can’t believe it took me this long to figure out, but” – she smacks her hands on the bar emphatically – “he really likes you.”
“Is that why you were so tense before?”
“Yes, because I-”
“Hey ladies,” Penny interrupts, an easy smile on her lips, “what are we drinking tonight?”
“Hey Penny,” you muster your best I’m Totally Not Freaking Out Right Now smile, “two schooners of the pale ale, please.”
She nods once and fills two schooner glasses, sliding them across the bar and taking the cash from Natasha’s outstretched hand.
“Thanks Penny,” Natasha says, before taking a big gulp from her glass.
You tip your own drink to your lips and drain half of it, plonking it back down and wiping the foam from the tip of your nose before turning back to your friend. “You were saying?”
“Before, when he came up to us in the parking lot,” she explains, “I made some stupid joke about him not getting laid and I looked at you, because duh, but so did he.”
You frown, “And?”
“And he looked totally panicked.”
“Maybe he was just embarrassed.”
She rolls her eyes, “That wasn’t embarrassment, he looked like I’d just outed his biggest secret, and he didn’t even comeback with some stupid, sarcastic comment.”
You sigh, “Nat, I love you, but I think you’ve gone insane. Jake doesn’t see me as anything more than Bradley’s baby sister, he’s probably just fried from work and couldn’t think of anything on the spot.”
“You’re never going to believe me, are you?”
You shrug, “Probably not.”
“Okay, fine,” she picks her drink up and steps back from the bar, “I’ll find a way.”
She starts walking back toward the booth where the rest of the squad are, and you quickly pick up your own half-empty schooner before following her with an amused smile on your lips. Natasha is anything if not determined.
- Jake -
Jake releases the breath he’s been holding from the moment Phoenix dragged you away from the group, toward the bar. He can’t remember the last time he felt this nervous, his sweaty palms pressed against his jean-clad thighs as he watches the two of you approach the booth. He has no idea what Phoenix just told you, and he has no idea if Phoenix really knows what he thinks she knows, but his nerves are firing on every cylinder regardless.
“This seat taken?” you ask him as Phoenix takes the spare spot beside Bob.
He shakes his head, “All yours, darlin’.”
“Careful, Hangman,” Fanboy chuckles, “don’t want Rooster hearing that.”
Jake rolls his eyes, forcing his demeanour to appear relaxed, “Rooster’s all talk.”
“That so?” Rooster asks, stepping up to the booth with a tray of beers.
Laughter rumbles through the group.
“I guess we’ll find out later tonight,” Phoenix chimes in, “you two are versing each other in the second game.” She slides the schedule for tonight’s games across the table toward Jake, pointing at the names beneath ‘Game #2’.
“I guess we will,” Jake says, plastering on his cockiest smirk.
Rooster rolls his eyes before turning to find a spare chair, since both sides of the booth are very full. On one side, Coyote, Bob, and Phoenix are sitting side by side, and on the other is Payback, Fanboy, Jake, and you pressed firmly against Jake’s side. He doesn’t mind, of course, because your leg is warm against his, and with his arm slung over the back of the booth, you fit almost perfectly against his side. In fact, he’s surprised Rooster hasn’t said anything yet.
After two rounds of beer and a lot of banter, it’s time for Jake and Rooster to compete. Penny calls them over to the table and sets it up, handing each of them a cue before rattling off the rules as she did before the first game. They flip a coin and Rooster calls heads, but tails lands face-up and Jake gets to break.
He can hear his heartbeat in his ears as he lines his cue up with the white ball, a small voice at the back of his head demanding he look cool since you were a mere three feet away, watching. He takes a deep breath, reminding himself that this is an easy game, before releasing his shot and sending the balls scattering.
The game begins smoothly, each of the lieutenants lining their shots up with precision and hitting the balls with calculated force. They each sink a few, and at about halfway through, the game is tightly tied.
“Come on, Seresin,” Rooster mutters as Jake bends over for his next shot, “what does it take to make you crack?”
Like the idiot he is, Jake lets his eyes wander away from the white ball and across the green felt until they find you, still sitting at the booth on the opposite side of the pool table. Without thinking, his back hand jabs the cue forward, but without his full focus, it knocks the white ball on a short and wobbly path toward nothing in particular.
The spectators give a sad ‘ooh’ as Jake sighs, and Rooster smirks, “Now who’s all talk?”
Jake only shakes his head and moves away from the table. Since the white ball hadn’t made it all that far, Rooster positions himself almost exactly where Jake had been, bending over the table a little further and aiming his cue at the white ball. He focuses for a moment, scanning the constellation of balls across the felt before he glances up and notices you. From where he’s positioned, he is looking directly at you, exactly as Jake had been when he fumbled his shot.
Rooster’s smirk drops and his gaze moves slowly toward Jake, his knuckles turning white as his grip on the cue tightens. Jake’s heart crawls up into his throat, his palms sweating as he stares back at Rooster. Did he just figure it out?
Rooster takes the shot and sinks two balls before repositioning himself and sinking another one. His next shot puts the white ball in an awkward spot for Jake, and he fumbles again. He’s lost all focus, unable to see anything but your gorgeous face or your brother’s murderous one.
After ten more minutes, the game is over and Penny is announcing Rooster as the winner. Jake isn’t knocked out of the competition, but he doesn’t have to play again tonight, which he is more than grateful for.
“Alright, Rooster,” Penny says, “you’ve got five minutes and then it’s you and Fitz.”
Jake finishes his beer before quickly excusing himself to the men’s room, avoiding eye contact with every member of the squad as he hurries through the bar. Once in the safe confines of a bathroom stall, he covers his face with both of his hands and sighs, loudly.
After everything – all the stolen glances and subtle flirting, every excuse to see you or talk to you – did Rooster really just figure it out in the middle of a stupid pool game?
“This is ridiculous,” Jake mutters to himself as he rubs his hands down his face.
He’s never felt this way about anyone before and he has no idea how to deal with it. The nerves are different than what he’s used to, it’s not like before a mission when he can channel his anxiousness into anticipation and put all his focus into being an expert pilot. Because he knows his jet inside out, and he knows the cockpit like the back of his hand, but this? It’s all different. He doesn’t know what this feeling is because he’s only ever felt this strongly about one thing before; flying. But right now he’s pretty sure he would spend the rest of his life on the ground if it meant the rest of his life would be spent with you.
He stays in the stall for another few minutes, making sure Rooster’s second game of pool is well and truly underway by the time he exits the bathroom. The door to the men’s room has hardly swung shut behind him when Phoenix appears in front of him, startling him.
“Far out, can’t a guy catch a break?” he gasps.
“Were you in there crying about your defeat or just hiding from Rooster?” she asks, her expression deadpan.
He frowns, feigning confusion, “What? Why would I be hiding from Rooster?”
“Because you’re in love with his baby sister.”
The panic he had managed to subdue mere minutes ago returns with a vengeance, coursing through his veins like a thousand volts of electricity. He scrambles for a defence, words, anything. “W-Wha- Phoenix, I- you don’t-”
“Save it,” she interrupts him, rolling her eyes, “I’m not going to interrogate you or try to talk you into making a move.”
His tangled mind struggles to follow along, “Why would you-”
“He is,” she says, pointing at their captain who is sitting alone at the end of the bar.
Jake’s stomach flips, “He is what?”
“Going to talk to you.”
She grabs his wrist, the strength of her grip surprising him even though he knows she’s just as strong as he is. She drags him toward the bar where Maverick is sitting, sipping his beer and watching the pool competition with keen eyes.
“Evening, Captain,” Jake says, and he knows the moment it leaves his lips that he’s being unusually formal.
Phoenix rolls her eyes again, dramatically. “All yours, Mav,” she says, before turning on her heel and returning to the booth with the rest of the squad.
“Hangman,” Maverick says, a hint of a smirk on his lips, “take a seat.”
Jake swallows hard as he sits on the barstool beside his captain.
“You know,” Mav continues, “you haven’t addressed me as captain in a very long time.”
“Well,” Jake says, “it's never too late to make a good impression.”
Maverick chuckles quietly before tipping the last of his beer to his lips. When he puts the glass back down on the bar, Penny takes it, offering Jake a small, almost sympathetic smile as she does.
Mav turns on his stool to face Jake, “I’ve noticed you’ve been acting a little different lately. Want to talk about it?”
Jake clears his throat, “I’m not quite sure what you mean, Cap- uh, Mav.”
“You sure about that?” Maverick asks as he looks away from Jake, casting his gaze across the bar toward the booth where the dagger squad are seated. “If I had to guess, I’d say you’ve been acting strangely ever since Y/N moved here.”
Hearing your name is the closest thing to a prayer in Jake’s ears, because he is so used to hearing your nickname, that hearing your real name feels reverent.
He sighs, admitting defeat, “Who told you?”
Mav chuckles again, “Technically, Phoenix did, but no one had to tell me. I might be old, but I’m not stupid, and I’ve lived long enough to recognise the way you look at her.”
Jake frowns, “Why haven’t you said anything?”
“I was kind of enjoying the way you’ve been sucking up to Rooster,” Mav replies sheepishly, “letting him be team leader in all the mission simulations, buying him beers every weekend, and letting him win at pool of course.”
Jake can feel his cheeks burning, “I didn’t let him win, Mav, I just can’t focus when she’s around.”
Maverick claps a hand on Jake’s shoulder, leaning on him slightly as stands up. “Then stop being so scared of her big brother and do something about it, before someone else does.”
He nods toward the squad again before stepping back and walking behind Jake, around the bar toward the pool table. Jake’s eyes follow his captain as he circles the bar, stopping to watch the game of pool on the opposite side of the table to where the dagger squad are seated. When Jake’s eyes pass over the intense game between Rooster and Fitz, his breath catches in his throat.
- You -
You had gotten up to go to the bathroom when this man cornered you, stopping you on your way and trapping you against a wall on the other side of the booth. You’re pretty sure you’ve seen him around work, but you can’t be sure, because the only person you do recognise in the sea of naval uniforms on base is Jake. This man is not Jake, and that is one of the main reasons why you can’t be bothered to listen to a single thing he is saying.
“Do you think you’ll stay in San Diego for long?”
You look up at him, pressing your shoulder blades into the wall in an attempt to create more distance between you and him. “Um, probably,” you reply.
You glance quickly over your shoulder, for once wishing that your police dog of a brother would do what he does best and scare this man away, but he’s too focused on his pool competition.
“That’s great,” the man leans even closer, his breath wreaking of alcohol, “maybe we can get together sometime, alone.”
You press your lips into a tight smile, neither wanting to accept nor reject the man’s proposal in the current, vulnerable position in which he has you trapped. When he opens his mouth to speak again, a cheer erupts behind you and Penny announces Rooster as the overall champion of the night. You clap your hands and smile at your brother as he does a few dramatic bows.
You turn back to the man with your excuse for escape on the tip of your tongue, “I better go-”
“We should get some fresh air,” he says, grabbing one of your wrists in a vice grip.
Panic washes over you, a cold sweat breaking out across the back of your neck as he tugs on your arm. You stumble forward and glance over your shoulder, hoping that someone has noticed, but he chose the perfect time. The rest of the squad have rushed to the pool table, taking the cues from Penny to set up their own game while other pub patrons congratulate Rooster on his win.
Just as the man reaches the doors leading onto the beach, Rooster’s eyes find you. His grin vanishes and he quickly tries to step away from the crowd surrounding him, but Maverick appears at his side with a hand on his shoulder, stopping him. What the fuck?!
You watch Maverick say something to Rooster, who’s eyes then dart away from you and toward something across the bar, but before you can follow his gaze, the man tugs you out the door. The cool night air bites at your bear arms as you stumble down the wooden steps onto the sand.
“Much better,” the man says, finally releasing you.
You turn sharply to run back into the bar, but you only make it two steps before coming face to chest with someone else. You know who it is even before you look up to find a very concerned pair of pretty green eyes.
“Jake,” you breathe, your body relaxing as he wraps an arm around you.
The man steps toward you again, “Hey, what the-”
“What the fuck is your problem?” Jake exclaims. “Who the fuck do you even think you are dragging a girl out of the bar when she clearly doesn’t want anything to do with you?”
“I don’t recall hearing her saying no,” the man argues, puffing out his chest.
“Because you didn’t give her a fucking chance,” Jake spits.
He takes half a step forward, guiding you behind his body as the man grounds himself as if getting ready to throw a punch. Your stomach sinks and the lump in your throat doubles in size at the thought of Jake getting hurt for you. Just as you think the man is about to wind his arm back, his scowl shifts to something behind you and his jaw goes slack. Glancing over your shoulder, you see Javy and Reuben step out of the bar and your heart aches with fondness.
Without so much as another word, the man shoots Jake one last look before turning and walking away. Javy and Reuben chuckle to each other before stepping back inside the bar, leaving you and Jake alone on the sand.
“Hey,” he turns to face you, “are you alright?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” you drop your gaze to your shoes, “sorry about that.”
He hooks a finger beneath your chin and tilts your head back up, “Don’t be silly, that was not your fault and nothing to be sorry about.”
Your heart is pounding in your ears, drowning out the music from the bar and the sound of waves crashing. All you can feel is Jake, close and comforting, and staring down at you as if he might want to kiss you too.
“Well,” you step toward him, as close as you can get without pressing your body against his, “then I’m sorry about what might happen to you after I do this.”
You curl your fingers into the material at the collar of his shirt and pull him forward, stretching up onto your toes to meet his lips with yours. He’s startled at first, but quickly responds, his hands grabbing your hips and pulling your body against his. He tastes like beer and spearmint gum, his lips soft as that move with yours, fitting together in the most perfect way. As you take a quick breath, his tongue slides past your lips and he tilts his head, deepening the kiss.
You wrap your arms around his neck to hold yourself up, and just as his hands begin sliding down your hips, you’re both startled by a loud wolf whistle. You both turn toward the bar and see Mickey with his head out the window and a stupidly wide grin plastered across his face. The rest of the squad are all pressed against the glass, almost completely fogging it up as they cheer and wave.
“Oh, God,” Jake sighs, “Rooster is going to kill me.”
You can’t help but giggle, “Don’t worry, Hangman, I’ll protect you this time.”
Inside the bar, your brother turns to Maverick, having to look away as you pull Jake into another kiss. “You’re seriously okay with this?” he asks, “You’re okay with Hangman sticking his tongue down the throat of my baby sister?”
Maverick chuckles, “She’s not just your baby sister Bradley, and that’s not Hangman. That’s Jake and Y/N, and it looks to me like they might be in love.”
Bradley rolls his eyes and pretends to gag, deciding to ignore the scene on the beach and return his attention to the pool table. He knows deep down that Maverick is right, so he silently gives his blessing while starting a list in his head of what he will and will not allow the two of you to do in front of him.
END.
964 notes · View notes
rainebelowzero · 4 months ago
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Steve Harrington x Male Reader
not a request
notes: I think this is the first time I've written something where you're explicitly dating the person, yippee đŸ„ł also this is supposed to take place between S3 and S4, I think it's kinda vague but that's what I was thinking of when I was writing this
♡ blowjob (reader receiving), multiple orgasms, facial, nipple play, a few mentions of angst but nothing serious ♡
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.....
..Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen
This isn't helping. You think, staring up at your ceiling in the dark, trying to tire yourself out. It had been...exactly 4 days since you've slept a full 8 hours, and the people around you have been starting to notice.
After everything that's happened, it was hard for you to sleep, so you normally stayed in bed, unable to close your eyes. What made it worse was that you were home alone. Your parents respected you as a responsible adult, which was good but you really didn't want to be home alone.
You had considered calling your boyfriend or one of your friends, but it was late and you didn't want to wake them up. You felt guilty asking one of them to come over.
So you lay there. Dealing with it on your own. You'd fall asleep eventually. Hopefully.
That's until a faint sound comes from downstairs. You try to ignore it. Maybe it was from outside, it happens sometimes. Or maybe the house was settling. Or maybe-
The sound happens again. The creaking of the wooden floor downstairs. Your parents weren't supposed to be home until later the next day, so it couldn't be them.
You stayed still for a second, hoping, praying you weren't about to be taken by some kind of monster. You think about the others. You'd be gone without a trace. Alone. You refuse to go out that way.
You reach out into the darkness, knowing exactly where your bat is. You creep down the stairs, seeing the vague shape of a figure moving in the almost pitch black of your living room.
As you get down the stairs, you notice that it's pretty..human shaped?
You lean towards a lamp, yanking the chain to turn it on. You and the figure jump seeing each other, the man spinning around to face you. Your eyes need to adjust to the light, though it's faint, but you squint at the man.
“Steve?”
He grins sheepishly. “Hi.”
You let out a relieved sigh, dropping the bat down next to you. You didn't realize, but your hands are shaking, Steve drawing your attention to it as he notices and grabs your hands, squeezing them. His hands are warm, very warm, and he looks at you with guilty eyes and a frown.
“I'm sorry I scared you, I just..I couldn't sleep and I wasn't really thinking about how that would scare the shit out of you. I just needed to see your face.” He apologizes profusely.
You smile at him, wrapping your arms around him tightly. He returns the action immediately, and you take in his weirdly super soft sweater and his warm, inviting scent.
“It's okay. I couldn't sleep either.” You respond, your voice muffled as you stay close to him. You pull away a little bit, suddenly confused. “Wait, but, how'd you get in?”
You knew he had a thing for crawling in through windows, but none of yours were open.
“You gave me a key, remember?” He says, pulling out his bundle of a bunch of keys, jingling it a little bit.
You nod. You genuinely forgot you did that. Pulling fully away from him, you drop down onto the couch, sliding closer to him as he does the same.
“Is there a reason you couldn't sleep?” You ask. He shrugs, running a hand through his hair.
“I'm not sure. I've just been pretty restless, I guess.” He looks away from you, and in the dim, warm light of the still, silent living room, you can tell there's something he doesn't want to tell you. Maybe it's the same way you feel. Like you'll close your eyes and suddenly one of your friends will end up missing. Like you won't be there in time to help.
You slide a hand over his and give it a squeeze the way he did for you. He looks back to you, smiling softly. You glance over to your TV, before standing, stretching your arms a little bit. You grin at Steve.
“Let's watch a movie.” You say. You pick a random comedy to lighten the mood and slip it into the VCR, sitting back on the couch. The two of you stay snuggled together, enjoying each other's presence. The faint sound of rain against the ground comes from outside, and you feel way better than you did before with Steve there.
A little further into the movie, you feel the urge to be closer to him, so you hold him tighter, your arm around him and your other hand on his arm, gently running your fingers along it. You can feel the muscle underneath his sleeve, and you give his bicep a small squeeze.
He glances over at you and you laugh softly. He gives you a grin and goes back to watching the movie as you lay your head on his shoulder. Throughout the movie, your hand moves from his arm to his chest, running your hand along his body. He doesn't mind, just turning to press a kiss to your temple and letting you basically feel him up. You slip your hand under his sweater and the shirt underneath, and he jumps a little bit before laughing.
“Your hand is so cold. What are you doing?” He asks playfully.
You shrug, feigning innocence. “Nothing. I can't touch my boyfriend?”
He gives you a suspicious eyebrow raise and looks away, back to your TV.
You move your hand up a little bit underneath his sweater and shirt, and he shudders a little, but doesn't acknowledge it. You pull your hand back, and he sits forward, lifting the sweater over his head. His shirt rides up a little too, and you can see the start of his happy trail, eyeing his body as he tosses the sweater aside, then pulls his shirt off too and sits back down.
You go back to touching him, and he laughs a little bit as you give his chest a soft squeeze. He turns towards you, kissing your forehead. He raises a hand, gently cupping the back of your head as he presses kisses to your face.
You lean forward, kissing his shoulder. Sliding into his lap, you place your knees on either side of his legs, kissing up his chest and then to his neck. His hands go to your waist, holding you as you kiss up to his face, purposely kissing everywhere but his lips. He gives you a fake pout when you pull away.
“What?” You laugh, and he laughs with you, dropping the facial expression.
“You missed a spot.” He responds.
“Did I?” As you say that, he pulls you closer, capturing your lips in a needy kiss. You hold his face gently, Steve kissing you like it's the last thing he'll ever do, like he's dying of thirst and you're the only thing to relieve it.
Your other hand rests against his chest, and your fingers run over one of his nipples a few times, making him groan into your mouth. You knew how sensitive they usually were, and you keep flicking your fingers against his nipple as the bud starts to harden and perk up. You do the same for the other one, switching hands. You pull away for a second, taking a breath before going back to kissing him, rolling his nipple between two of your fingers.
His hips buck up a little bit, and you roll your hips against him to pull more desperate sounds out of him. He gently puts a hand over yours to stop you as he catches his breath.
“Can I suck you off?” He asks, his voice almost a whisper. You grin and nod, climbing off of him. You shove your pants down eagerly while Steve gets on his knees in front of you, hands resting on your thighs. He presses a kiss to your inner thigh, pushing your legs apart a little bit. One of his hands strokes you through the fabric of your boxers, and he gently pulls your cock out, pressing his lips to the head. His lips wrap around the head, tongue gliding along it as he slowly strokes at the base.
You run your fingers through his hair as he takes more of you into his mouth. He lowers his head more and more, until you're fully into his mouth. He pulls your cock all the way out before swallowing it down his throat, bobbing his head and using his tongue to lick against the underside of it. He gags a little, but keeps going, his eyes tearing up a little. You thrust into his mouth, pushing his head down lightly, still letting him do it himself for the most part.
His lips are slick with his spit, dripping down his chin as he releases muffled moans around you. You groan, holding his head in place for a moment, and he lets you thrust yourself into his mouth roughly, staring up at you. The eye contact makes the heat in your stomach grow, and you pull out before you can get to your release. Steve catches his breath, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He grins up at you while you calm yourself down.
“Getting excited already?” He asks teasingly. You laugh, rolling your eyes.
“Shut up.” You respond in a joking tone, leaning down and kissing the man on the lips, tasting yourself on his tongue. He sits back on the couch, and you're instantly back on him, kissing his neck and squeezing his thigh.
He sighs in pleasure, and he pulls his pants off, dropping them on the floor. He turns onto his stomach, pushing his hips back against your dick. You grab his hips, grinding yourself against him a little before pushing his underwear down, revealing his plush, hair covered thighs and thick ass. You spread him open, showing his tight hole, already slick with what you assume is lube. He lets out a soft whimper that he tries to cover.
“Did you already prep yourself?” You ask, kind of surprised.
He turns his head back a little to look at you, half nodding. “I tried to make myself tired, but it didn't work and then I was super..” He trails off, looking for the word.
“Needy?” You finish, giving his ass a squeeze. He moans softly.
“Yeah. For you.”
You giggle lightly, grinding your cock against his hole as it clenches and unclenches around nothing desperately. Steve lets out a few soft gasps, burying his face in his arm as his heavy cock hangs between his legs, tip rubbing up against the couch. You notice and pull your shirt off, sliding it under him so he doesn't ruin the couch. That'd be really hard to explain to your parents.
You almost want to stay like this forever, watching this gorgeous man beneath you grind his ass back against your cock, hole slick and ready to take all of you. You hold him still, guiding yourself into him. Steve groans as the head pops in, and you slowly, almost painfully slow, slide your cock into his ass, his walls inviting you in, holding you snugly.
He has to resist the urge to whine, your dick stretching him out so good, nothing like his fingers. It was exactly what he was craving, legs shaking as you push in to the base and pressing so deliciously against his prostate.
You start to move, thrusting in and out of him before pulling out to the head and slamming yourself back into him. He moans loudly, back arching. His fingers claw at the arm of the couch as you pound into him, your thick cock bullying its way into the man's tight hole each time, pounding against his prostate.
Steve is practically seeing stars, and you have to reach forward to cover his mouth, not wanting your neighbors to hear how loud he's being. He moans loudly into your palm as you dig the nails of your other hand into his hip. He fucks himself back on you and you feel him tense up as he cums without warning, spurting all over the shirt you placed under him. You don't slow down even a little, completely abusing that sensitive spot inside of him and making him twitch and whine from the overstimulating pleasure.
You keep stretching his hole wide, and Steve swears he can feel you in his stomach, knowing he definitely won't be able to walk afterwards. The sound of skin against skin fills your living room, Steve's muffled moans bordering on full on yelling sounding like absolute music to your ears.
He lets out a loud, heavy sob as he tenses again, squeezing tight around you and cumming again. His eyes roll back before his head falls against the arm of the couch. You stop covering his mouth, the only sounds he's letting out being soft, breathy whimpers and desperate gasps for air.
You pound into him a few more times before pulling out and getting off the couch, pumping your cock as you grab Steve by the hair, yanking his head back. He looks so thoroughly fucked out and he sticks out his tongue as you jerk yourself off over his face, groaning as you shoot your hot load all over his face. He moans weakly, swallowing what he could catch in his mouth and dropping his head back down when you let go of him.
He pants heavily, as do you, catching your breaths, when you notice that he's still hard, cock rubbed red against your bundled up t-shirt. He lifts his head enough to look at you, and wiggles his hips a little, silently begging you to keep going. You get back up. You had a lot of time before your parents got back, after all.
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avocado-writing · 1 year ago
Note
Hello! Might I ask for the lovely bg3 guys hearing tav say they're love them in the middle of an argument please? Take your time!
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Astarion
Who knows what you're arguing about. It could be something sincere (his ascention) or something inane (he took your soap without asking, again) but it still slips out all the same:
"You're lucky I love you, or I'd be really angry."
The two of you stop and stare at each other for a moment, before you let out a strangled little sound and exit the conversation.
Astarion is baffled. He wasn't expecting that. Except, he sort of was? He's been trying to get you to fall for him after all, so why does it feel so... nice to hear you say it? And why does he feel so guilty?
The two of you move on like nothing's happened for a while, the tension bubbling between the two of you, until eventually he can't take it any more.
The two of you are on watch one night and he blurts out, "I love you too."
You stare at him for a long moment, he's never felt smaller. "Are you being serious?" "Yes. I am."
You look so relieved. He brings you into his arms and the two of you stay embraced for the rest of the night.
Gale
It's like you're arguing about the bomb inside him.
He's arguing it's the best solution to your problems, you're telling him that he needs to care about himself more. You're getting so frustrated that tears are starting to sting hot in your eyes.
"I wish you loved yourself like I love you, Gale."
Ah, you didn't mean to let that slip out. The two of you let the quiet sink in. You go to move away, his silence crushing, but he reaches out to grab you - not hard, but enough so that you stay.
"You love me?"
Tears come, inevitably.
"Of course I love you, Gale, you utter fool."
You can see he wants to argue about that but for once just takes the insult, pulling you into his arms so tightly you feel like he'll keep you there forever. Yes, he is a fool for not seeing it earlier.
"I love you too. You are the most precious thing in my life. I'm sorry for worrying you... and you're right, of course. You're always right."
You sleep in his arms that evening, and the Netherese Orb is never mentioned again.
Wyll
Oh, Wyll. Why would you be arguing with this sweet, kind man?
Maybe you're begging him to try and get out of his contract with Mizora, take back hold of his own life again. He's arguing about duty, what he owes to Baldur's Gate.
"I wish you'd think for once about what you owe to me, Wyll. To yourself! I love you!"
His mouth falls open, he's flabbergasted. When you try and escape he doesn't let you, following you into the forest where you run, calling your name.
Eventually you slow down enough for him to catch you and bring you in for a sweet kiss, then press his forehead against yours.
"I love you too. Of course I love you. I hate that I ever made you feel anything less than my absolute priority. You are always the first in my heart."
The two of you sit down and have a long, healthy conversation about talking things out as a couple. Making decisions together. At the end of if you come out stronger, united as a team.
Halsin
Halsin is probably the most laid-back on this list, it's hard to think of something you'd really argue about.
It comes down to this: you aren't taking care of yourself enough. Not eating properly, sleeping properly, sharing your burdens. You are trying to shoulder it all.
He keeps telling you that you need to be kinder to yourself - you keep snapping that he isn't in charge, he doesn't know what it's like. He tells you he cares about you too much to see you in pain.
You're angry at first - who is he to tell you what to do - and then you're just sad; burying your face in his chest.
"I love you too much to argue with you, Halsin," you whisper, and his heart melts.
"I love you too, my heart. Let me take care of you."
He cooks you dinner and makes sure you eat it all, draws you a bath and helps you wash. His fingers are magic. He lays down with you on your bedroll and lets his body warm yours, keeping you tight against him, only drifting off himself when he is sure you are sound asleep.
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gayeddieagenda · 6 months ago
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❀ đŸŽ” Number 9 if you’re still doing the prompts? thank you!! I hope you’re having a good day!
another scene prompt game! - 9: listening to the other’s heartbeat + ❀ đŸŽ”
--
“Huh,” Buck says.
Eddie knocks his ankle against Buck’s. “What?”
“I’m not trying to freak you out,” Buck says. He has his serious face on and that, more than anything, makes Eddie squint at him, suspicious. “When was the last time you went to the doctor?”
“Buck,” Eddie says. “I had a checkup a month ago, jackass.”
“Texas doctors?” Buck says skeptically. Eddie huffs at him. Buck adjusts his grip on Eddie’s arm, pressing his index and middle fingers more firmly into Eddie’s wrist. “It’s probably nothing. It’s just, I can’t find your pulse.”
Eddie rolls his eyes up to the ceiling. “Jesus Christ, Buck!”
“I’m being serious!” Buck tries another spot on Eddie’s wrist, then another, shaking his head both times: nothing. “You should definitely have a pulse.”
“Oh, no,” Eddie says, deadpan. “What if I’m already dead?”
Six months. Eddie waited six months to see Buck in person again. Buck had made a noise like a dying animal on the phone, when they realized that he was going to be in the first hour of a 48-hour shift when Eddie and Chris got in from Texas.
Then, when Bobby asked if Eddie wanted to be scheduled for the last 24 hours of the same shift or wait four more days until his first shift back, Eddie signed on for the earlier shift without thinking twice about it. It meant not waiting a second longer to be back where he belongs—at the 118, on the job. It also meant this: seeing Buck for the first time since
since Texas, since everything, surrounded by all their coworkers.
“Don’t worry,” Buck says. “I have something else I can try.”
Buck releases Eddie’s hand. Eddie draws his arm back to his body, unconsciously reaching his other hand up to grip his wrist where Buck’s hand had been holding him a second ago.
Buck gestures at Eddie’s neck. “Can I—”
“Go ahead.”
“I don’t want to say it,” Buck said. His voice was low and frustrated through the phone. “Not like this.”
“Sorry,” Eddie said, feeling furious, feeling lightheaded. Feeling alone, in a silent Texas house three sizes too big for him. “This is it. I’m here. You’re there. If you’re pissed at me, I’d rather you just tell me.”
Buck reaches for the collar of Eddie’s turnouts. He peels back the velcro strip covering the neck, then undoes the top snaps—one, two, three. He hooks two fingers of one hand on Eddie’s chin, tilting his head back. Sets two fingers of his other hand on Eddie’s neck, just below his jaw, in the divot just behind his trachea, just in front of the muscle.
It’s stupid. Eddie’s fine. He fell down, that’s all. He was rounding a corner to get back to the engine when a kid came sprinting around the other side, running at full force. She ran headfirst into his stomach and they both went sprawling on the grass. Buck caught up to them first, checking over the kid and giving her a sticker after telling her she should consider a career in wrestling. Eddie pushed himself up from the ground, angling to sneak back to the engine and drop off his gear. Buck caught his arm, giving him a where do you think you’re going? look.
So, now they’re here. Sitting in the back of the ambulance, parked in South Pasadena at two in the morning, Chimney’s classic rock radio station still playing quietly from the front seats. The kitchen fire that called them out was put out half an hour ago, but when the upstairs neighbor cracked his door to figure out what had brought a fire truck to his driveway, his cat bolted. Chim spotted her up a tree in the backyard—literally, a cat stuck in a tree. It doesn’t get much more stereotypical than that.
Chimney’s got it handled, apparently, though it’s been twenty minutes and he and the cat are both still in the tree. Eventually, he’s going to get the cat down or some new emergency will materialize from nothing and someone will come looking for Buck and Eddie—but for now, for a minute, they’re alone.
The pads of Buck’s fingers are gentle on the side of Eddie’s neck. His hands are warm. Buck presses in, just enough pressure on Eddie’s throat for him to feel it.
He’s looking Eddie in the eye while he touches him. Eddie looks back. He takes in a slow breath, feeling his throat expand under Buck’s hand. Watches Buck blink back at him. They’re so close like this, Eddie can see where Buck missed a spot shaving just below his sideburns, where Buck’s hair dried flat to his head when he had to pull on his helmet straight out of the shower. He can see where his eyes are crinkling at the corners, like he’s trying to hold back a smile.
“Nope,” Buck says. “Still nothing.”
“Oh, no,” Eddie says dryly. “Do you need to start CPR?”
“I’m sure I can think of something else before it comes to that.”
“I’m not taking off my pants for you to check my femoral.”
“I wasn’t going to do that, Eddie. We’re at work.”
Buck takes his hand off Eddie’s neck. Eddie misses it immediately.
He backs up a little, as far as he can get in the cramped quarters of the ambulance. He rests his hands on his hips, giving Eddie an assessing look.
“I’m not pissed at you,” Buck said, voice low. “That’s why I don’t want to have this conversation now.”
“When do you want to have it?” Eddie asked. He’s angry, and he’s picking a fight, and he can’t stop himself, when this is how he gets to talk to Buck now: in broken halves of conversations, eight hundred miles away. “When you visit in six months? When Chris graduates high school in four years?”
“Come on,” Buck said. “That’s not fair.”
“Then tell me why you’re mad at me.”
“Would you like my opinion?” Eddie asks.
“Pretty sure I’m the firefighter here, thanks.”
Eddie rolls his eyes up to the ceiling. “Didn’t realize.”
“Here,” Buck says.
His hands are back on Eddie’s jacket, undoing the rest of the snaps and opening his jacket. He hooks a hand in Eddie’s suspenders, pulling lightly at them, adjusting Eddie until he’s sitting on the edge of the gurney, knees between Buck’s legs. Eddie goes easily.
Buck places a hand on Eddie’s chest, above his heart.
They’re at work, Eddie reminds himself. It’s two in the morning and it’s Pasadena, it’s the distant sound of Chimney going here, kitty-kitty, and the low hum of the radio.
Buck glances at the ambulance doors. They left them open a crack, but all they can see through the gap is the empty street, cast in yellow and red from the streetlamps and the fire engine lights. No one’s looking for them.
Buck turns back to Eddie. He leans in in one movement, replacing his hand with his ear to Eddie’s chest.
It’s awkward, kind of. The ambulance isn’t exactly roomy and Buck is folded in at a weird angle to get his face to Eddie’s chest. Eddie knows he still smells like the kitchen fire, like smoke and burnt fish and sweat. Any second, someone’s going to realize they disappeared and come barging through the ambulance doors and into this, into the tableau that is Buck leaning on Eddie’s chest.
Eddie breathes, chest rising and falling. Buck moves with it.
He was scared to see Buck again. He can admit that now, with Buck in front of him, the way he couldn’t when he was still in El Paso.
There’s a conversation they’ve been waiting to have. They started it a month ago, on the phone, Buck in his loft and Eddie in the kitchen of his rented house in El Paso. By now, Eddie’s pretty sure he’s figured out where this conversation is going to end. He knows he’s not going to find out here, in the back of an ambulance in Pasadena.
They decided, by mutual agreement, that they wouldn’t touch it until after the shift. They kept their word. Instead, Buck’s been doing
this. Messing with Eddie. Sticking close to him. Touching him, under the barest pretense of medical necessity.
It—this, them—has been an idea in Eddie’s head for so long that he started to lose track of what it was, exactly, that he was waiting for. It doesn’t feel real, that Buck could say something on the phone and a month later Eddie could be in Los Angeles again, cashing checks they wrote when they were eight hundred miles apart.
“I’m not angry with you, Eddie,” Buck said, low, into a phone speaker in Los Angeles. Into Eddie’s ear, in an empty room in El Paso. “I’m in love with you.”
Buck’s head resting on Eddie’s chest is real.
It’s right here. It’s the easiest thing in the world, for Eddie to put his hand on the back of Buck’s neck, where the soft ends of his hair curl. For him to breathe in, slow, and feel the weight of Buck leaning on him.
“Yeah,” Buck says finally. His voice is quiet in the back of his throat. Eddie can feel it in his chest. “Found it.”
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koenigami · 4 months ago
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tags : fem!reader, fluff, suggestive wc : 990 synopsis : he makes you forget about time and space... and tara's party. - It takes a while for your sleep ridden mind to register that the sudden consecutive bangs and sounds of people cheering loudly, are not part of a vivd dream.
You groan as you try to sit up, wanting to properly take in your surroundings, yet somehow you can't. Move, that is. A heavy arm is locked around your waist, keeping you fixed on your bed and pressed flush to someone's warm body.
"Xavier-" You dazedly mutter his name, trying with the little force that you still have left in you to wriggle free from his arm, though your efforts are for naught. Accepting your defeat, you huff and let your head loll to the side, facing the large balcony window.
Bright radiant lights grace the night sky, colouring your rooms in all kinds of colours after each loud bang. Such pretty fireworks, you think and tiredly close your eyes for another brief serene moment.
...
Fireworks?!
Hastily your body jerks up but you don't even have time to triumph over finally having budged your immovable force of a boyfriend. Your gaze searches the clock on your bedside table even though you have to admit that you'd rather prefer not to look at it at all, knowing that your suspicions will likely only further be confirmed.
Eventually, when you snatch your phone from the ground and curse at the sight of a dozen missed calls from Tara, only then does the mentioned immovable force beside you stir awake.
"Mmh... why are you so loud? And turn the lights off, it's still too early." Xavier yawns and buries his face into your side to shield himself from the bright illuminations of the fireworks that are still going on outside.
"Xavier, it's past midnight. Not only have we missed Tara's party, we also missed the countdown."
Drowsily, he lifts his head and squints through the room before his eyes fall on the scenery outside. A quiet oh, is the only reaction that you get from him before he shifts his gaze back to you. His hand wanders from your naked waist down to your hip, but you quickly slap it away before he can get any lower.
Those seemingly innocent gestures of his are what has gotten you in this situation in the first place.
"It's all your fault!" You sound anything but genuinely upset when you pout childishly and mutter something akin to "horny idiot" under your breath which only makes Xavier chuckle delightedly.
"Hey, now-" He interrupts his own words with a big yawn before he decides to perch himself right over your body, balancing on his forearms as he traps your body between his thighs. "You know I can't control myself. Couldn't help myself when I saw you in that dress."
His warm breath tickles your face when his nose gently brushes against yours before it starts leaving a soft trail across your cheek and further down to your neck. He inhales deeply, as if trying to burn your smell into his memory even though you're convinced that by now, you smell more like sweat and him, than the perfume you've put on before he attacked you like a hungry hyena.
"We didn't get to kiss on midnight." Your voice sounds as if you're genuinely upset, though Xavier can't help but smile against your neck.
"Yeah, what a shame." He doesn't sound sorry at all. With a falsely sympathetic expression on his face, he thumbs at the fresh red marks along your neck. He's sure there must be a few more between your thighs. "I guess these were not enough, huh?"
"Xavier, I'm serious. This was our first-" You haven't even noticed that one of his hands has travelled further south your body, until all your nerves seem to activate, and you flinch when the tips of his fingers graze your lower parts. His smug smile is quickly replaced with genuine concern when you whimper in response.
"Love? Are you in pain?" His thumb draws calming and comforting circles over your hipbone as he keeps you still beneath him, like a hawk watching over you for any other signs of ache. You believe that there's not even an ounce of regret in him for the way he had pulled one orgasm after another out of you, until you were nothing but a shaky mess. But the pain etched on his face once he becomes aware that he's responsible for your discomfort truly makes your own chest ache and swell with love at the same time.
Biting the inside of your cheek, you can't even bring yourself to look him in his eyes, opting instead for the sky outside which has returned to its usual dark self, with little stars sprinkled like droplets of white colour all over a black canvas.
"No, I'm just a little sensitive and sore because someone couldn't control himself." You mock and bite a grin back when he sighs and leans down to playfully nibble on your cheek. The pillowy skin of his lips leaves tender caresses along your face as he promises you to clean you up soon, but not before he lets himself fall back beside you with a soft grunt.
With his face so close that the tip of his nose nearly touches yours, all you see is Xavier. Your own starlight that only shines for you. Ever so bright and always guiding you and keeping you company, never leaving you alone in the dark.
"My love." His voice is nothing but a whisper as he tucks your hair behind your ear, and closes the little distance left between you. You breathe a weak gasp against his lips when his warm palm grabs your thigh and throws it over his hip, fingertips delicately dancing along the delicate flesh and leaving goosebumps in their wake. "Happy new year."
The new year has come, yet something is telling you that the night has barely begun.
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aerkame · 4 months ago
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Hi! I hope everything is okay in your life!
Please when you can, no pressure: could you do some platonic headcanons with Sun Wukong from Nezha Reborn? Thank you! ^^
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Sorry this took a while to get to! I am feeling like getting back to writing and drawing again though, it used to help me feel better quite a bit and things are calming down in my life now. ❀
As for NR Wukong? I decided to rewatch the movie again just in case. He's a complicated character, way more complicated than I realized. I'm planning to write for him more often too and that needs a lot of researching on my part. He's not exactly as he makes himself out to be sometimes (you can see who he really is around the scene when he reveals his identity, he drops the silly act and gets serious).
Sun Wukong in Nezha Reborn is very similar to his book counterpart if you pay close attention to his mannerisms and behavior. He's not a good person, but not the absolute worst either. He's a morally grey and cutthroat person who isn't afraid to get his hands dirty and he'll definitely say whatever is on his mind.
Wukong's a bit scary when you think about it. He ate another yaoguai, offered a piece of it to the guy who hired that assassin, he can move at speeds almost unseen, throw a dead dragon's body away by the whisker, and he's also a hitman... and yet, you two are somehow friends.
That being said... having a platonic relationship with him is going to be chill, overwhelming, or lively, maybe all three if you're unlucky.
It's not overwhelming for the reasons you might think it is, it's mainly because the dude needs to be in everyone's space. No seriously, when is he not close to someone that's in the same room with him? He'd be pretty clingy, probably hanging around (literally from the ceiling) near you if there's no one else around...he may or may not try to groom you if you have enough hair to do that as well. Just monkey business.
The Monkey King really lives up to his name and he acts like one too. Doing what he wants, going wherever he pleases...even if it's in your own home, he'll show up there eventually for whatever given reason, maybe he's just bored or maybe he's just trying to give you a good spook. What? He's a curious guy, he just wanted to see what his friend's place looks like. Don't ask how he knows where you live.
Oh did he ever mention he's bored and lonely? It's not good for a monkey to be alone for long, so you're gonna have to do for now! (lucky you)
Much like how he dresses, Wukong loves to show off what he has and places he goes. You've never been on a motorcycle before? Well say no more! Ol' Sun is going to show you around the place on his cool bike. It roars too! He's 100% going to make sure he's revving that thing as loud as he can just to scare you and get a reaction. Maybe scare a nearby stranger walking by too.
Probably pulls a few tricks on you here and there just cause. He may or may not have taken your favorite shirt and hid it somewhere up high in the pipes and returned it while you weren't looking just to mess with you.
At the end of the day though, he's not so bad to be around. Just try not to stir up any trouble with yaoguais or shady figures. The old king would rather not get himself involved with any affairs, but he cares, and he'll admit that if something happened to you it'd just be another scar over his heart. He's just so tired...
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six-eyed-samurai · 10 months ago
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Hello!! I saw ur taking requests, so u wanna know if you’d do a Giyuu x reader with koji and his little sister (if I remember correctly in the last fic, koji had a baby sister) where the little sister becomes bestfriends with a little boy at daycare but koji and Giyuu are being overprotective even tho she’s a baby😭😭 I thought this idea was so cute!! I’m really hoping you’ll have time to make this, make sure to drink water and thank you!!đŸ€đŸ€
-đŸ’œ
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SUMMARY: Like father like son - Giyuu and your eldest boy Koji are not happy at all your baby girl's made a new...ugh, boy friend. A/N: KYAAAAAAAH I can't believe you remembered, usually people only read 1 and 2. I'm so excited about this, it's so cute and TYSM for being my first request! Be sure to drink water too lovely! You can read this as a standalone fic, or part of: I, II, III WARNINGS: Fem reader, mentions of sex education. Post-war timeline SUNNY'S TAGLIST: @abadonkori @therabbitthatpostthings @ezekieleen (lemme know if you wanna be added or removed) MASTERLIST/PREVIOUS FICS My inbox is still open if you would like to request for the event!
Man-eating demons. Comrade deaths. Yet nothing was as scary to the stoic Water Pillar when his firstborn suddenly appeared behind him whilst he was polishing his sword on the engawa and announced the dreaded six words.
"Dad, I have something to ask."
Giyuu froze, brain momentarily drawing a complete blank. The sword clattered to the ground, forgotten as Giyuu slowly turned his head around. Dear Kami-sama, he did not think this day would come so fast. He was just almost six, for goodness' sake; he'd been praying it would be another six years before he'd have to answer. Where were you? Crap, crap. You had gone to go pick up Sumire from daycare and now he'd have to deal with this himself.
Alright, he could do it. It's been six years as a dad. He could pull it off.
Koji waited for his father to nod before continuing, the serious face he shared with Giyuu creased with a frown. "How do you know-"
"Koji, it's a normal part of puberty everyone goes through, so naturally you'd be curious, and I'm very happy you trust me enough to come talk to me about it, but whatever sex jokes Uncle Sanemi has been making you want explained you should go ask your mother because I don't think I'm good enough at explaining what adults do at night or how babies are made at this stage," Giyuu blurted out. Exactly like how he had rehearsed it - Giyuu privately congratulated himself for not messing it up.
Two dark blue eyes blinked at him. "What?"
"What?"
"I-" Koji shook his head in confusion. "I dunno what you're talking about and I don't care how babies are made."
"Then..." Giyuu wanted to sink into the ground. "What...did you want to talk to me about?"
"Sumire." Koji wrinkled up his nose in a disgusted expression when he said his sister's name, padding up to his father and plopping down next to him.
"...is she asking you about these things then? I'm not too sure how to explain the jokes to a two year old either but I can try. Or you could just tell her babies come from storks," Giyuu offered helpfully.
"Wait - what? No, that's not what I was going to - what?"
Ah, for the days when Giyuu didn't open his mouth to talk much and eventually embarrass himself. "...sorry, go on."
"Yeah sure." Koji seemed a little distracted, even for a six year old. "Y'know the daycare? She made a new friend."
"That's...nice." At least she isn't taking after Giyuu? What was the problem here and how could he stop his ears from burning red at his not once but twice blunder?
"It's a boy. They keep playing together, sharing meals, nicknames and stuff. She even gave him -" Koji shuddered, narrowing his eyes. "A matching bracelet."
"A...boy?" Giyuu had long retired from being a slayer after the war and he probably wasn't too good with fighting with one arm, but hey, he was polishing that sword for a reason. He couldn't believe how he never spotted it before: Sumire had kicked up a huge fuss at being sent to daycare originally but recently had seemed almost...ecstatically eager to go. Too eager.
His own eyes narrowed. "Tell me everything."
***
"How's Sumi?"
At the sudden question you glanced behind to where your husband was pressing his forehead into your back, one arm wrapped around your waist as you cooked dinner. Not unusual behavior, but didn't Giyuu just see his daughter a few minutes ago?
"Fine, pretty happy at the daycare all things considering." You slid the salmon onto a different plate, unable to keep the suspicion out of your tone. "At least we don't have to keep fighting another war just to get her out the door like last time."
"Koji says she's making friends there."
"Was he supposed to say anything else?" You rolled your eyes. Now you knew where this was coming from. Of course.
"I don't like her friend," Giyuu said plainly. He let go of you to help carry one of the dishes out of the kitchen with you, doing his one-armed best to assist you in setting the table.
"And why is that?" You nodded along, as if you didn't know why. How long would it be until Giyuu cracked? "Koji! Sumire! Time for dinner!"
"He's a boy. Someone trying to steal her away from us. He already gave her a bracelet!"
"Yuu. Yuu, look me in the eye right now." Once your husband finally turned to meet your face he could clearly see you were struggling to hold in your laughter. "One, you're a boy yourself. Two, she's, well, two. Three, Sumire gave him the bracelet."
"Yeah, but I'm her dad! So what if she's two? It's too early for her to fall in love. And a bracelet is basically an engagement jewelry already."
You couldn't help yourself anymore, doubling over in laughter at Giyuu's quiet whining. "Koji put you up this, didn't he?"
"He told me," Giyuu admitted. "But no boy's allowed around Sumi."
"Shion's not that bad of a kid," You countered. "It could be worse."
Giyuu nearly spat. "Wh-what? You know his name?"
"Obviously, Sumire won't stop talking about him."
"And not me?"
"Yuu, look at how overprotective you're acting right now and say that again." You bit down your giggles watching your husband scrunch up his face and attempt to find a way to defend himself as your two children ran in and took their seats.
"I'm not overprotective!"
***
Perhaps slightly protective. Nothing more.
At least Giyuu wasn't being as openly hostile as Sumire's elder brother, who was sitting judgmentally from the corner, glaring at Shion over his book. Giyuu wasn't glowering per se, but you would probably have to save the poor boy soon from under the weight of two penetratingly unnerving stares.
Sumire didn't notice, beaming with literal stars in her eyes at her playmate (Giyuu had been the one to invite him over, which was extremely fishy, which was why you had decided to stay and watch as well). "Hi, Shion-kun! Mama made mochi, wanna go eat?"
"Sure." The freckled face boy stepped through the doorway, following your baby girl into the kitchen. Giyuu eyed him from behind the steaming cup of tea. "Hi Tomioka-san! Is it true you used to be a samurai? Sumi-chan told me a lot about you!"
You strategically interrupted right then before Giyuu could say something awkwardly honest by dumping the plate of sakura mochi onto the table. "Help yourselves, there's plenty to go around!"
So on went the playdate, Sumire suggesting games to her new friend who did his best to act normal and not nervous under Koji's sarcastic quips and Giyuu's pointed stare, oblivious to the fact her brother and father weren't ready to give her up yet (a trait she clearly got from Giyuu) - despite the fact you had spent half an hour before this drilling into their heads Shion was not here to go kidnap Sumire.
You made the mistake of leaving to go clean up the mess in the kitchen later on, however, under the relieved thought that maybe Giyuu had gotten over his little temper tantrum over the boy. Big mistake, because next thing you knew-
"GIYUU WHY ARE YOU HAVING A DUEL WITH A THREE YEAR OLD-"
"He wanted to learn how to use a sword," Giyuu said blankly, pausing in his movements. It certainly seemed innocent and safe enough, seeing as they were using wooden swords and were outside. Sumire excitedly stood by Shion's side, ever the cheerleader.
But you knew your man and son a lot better than that. There was no way they hadn't planned this, not when they were sharing a look.
"I wanna try be like Tomioka-san! Sumi-chan said he used to fight demons and even fought their king. That's so cool!" Shion piped up excitedly. You were going to murder your overprotective husband for this later...if Sumire didn't beat you to it.
"See, Ma? It's all fine," Koji smirked from the sidelines. "Begin!"
***
Predictably it ended with Giyuu slapping Shion with the flat of his blade, causing a scraped knee as well as Giyuu muttering to the fallen "Don't you even think about doing anything to her" when Sumire panicked and rushed over to her friend.
Luckily you managed to usher Shion out to be picked up by his dad in a flurry of apologies, pleasantries and assurances that it was lovely having him over while Sumire burst into tears and asked him not to go yet (you heard Giyuu's almost inaudible "Hmph" when Shion too cried and said the same thing).
Giyuu and Koji were feeling pretty good about themselves, sharing a victorious glance at each other - Team Tomioka 1, Scum Boy 0 - until you slammed the doors shut, calmed down your precious Sumire with the promise of all the leftover mochi in the kitchen before bedtime and then turned around to fix the both of them with your intense glare.
"Koji! Grounded, now!"
"What did I do?!" Koji threw up his hands but stomped off to his room.
"I saw you push Shion, don't act innocent!" You grabbed Giyuu's arm and began to haul him off to the privacy of your bedroom. "And don't think I forgot about you as well, Tomioka Giyuu!"
Damn, you did forget how pathetically kicked puppy-like Giyuu could look when he was playing innocent. "I didn't intentionally beat him up, you know."
"I know you didn't, Yuu," you said sweetly. "But I didn't know you were into fighting with little kids as well!"
"I just don't want anyone taking away Sumi."
You groaned. Once again Giyuu has melted your heart into a slushy mess with his blunt sincerity and expression. You leaned into his hold, grudgingly allowing him to pull your head into his chest but hit him with your fist still. "You're still not supposed to pull that kind of stunt, alright? No one's taking Sumi away from us. You and Koji are really idiots sometimes."
"What if I told you Koji likes a girl too?"
Your head snapped up. "WHAT?!"
"Yeah. He met her at school. Someone named Yuma," Giyuu said casually, as if he didn't know you would be reacting this way. He hummed, playing with your hair. "That's why he took your mochi, by the way, to give it to her."
"Why didn't he tell me?!" You wailed, suddenly forgetting how you had scolded Giyuu for this exact behavior. "I'm his mom! He's growing up so fast!"
Giyuu attempted to continue with his revenge plan but ultimately failed: you both wound up cuddling the rest of the night disappointedly lamenting how fast time flies.
***
BONUS:
"Onii-chan, what are Mama and Daddy doing in there?" Sumire pressed her ear close to the door, munching on her dessert.
Koji froze. "Uh...babies come from storks, Sumi."
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princeoftheeternalbog · 8 months ago
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THE KING HAS RETURNED
guys im so sorry I can't believe i havent posted in so long its very unsexy of me so this is sweet comfort fluff about embarrassment as i am very embarrassed right now of my own actions (taking over two months to post again)
i was considering posting this without the old men and then decided that if im doing the strawhats im doing everyone ESPECIALLY sans and moby dick
Luffy
Laughs. But if you look sad he starts feeling bad and tries to make you laugh instead. But also he'll forget that it made you sad and bring it up again later. He tries his best to accommodate for your feelings but he's a naturally casual guy so he doesn't see what's embarrassing. There's a few miscommunications about this at the start of your relationship until he explains that no matter what you do he adores youđŸ„Č
Zoro
He didn't even notice it to be honest, or he thinks it's really cute. And if you bring it up to ask him about it he's just like what are you talking about, nobody was even looking. That's a lie, he was looking because he he's lowkey obsessed with you, but he doesn't want to make you feel worse so he just lies. He even pretends that him always saving you from falling is coincidental, you at least know that ones a lie but sweet nonetheless.
Sanji
Tries to reassure you but draws attention to it by accident, and then he does something more embarrassing to cover it up. To be honest though it really works, people just talk about him instead. But he also makes you feel less embarrassed just by how much he dotes on you, if you fall then he's swooping you up bridal style to go to chopper, if you spill something on your dress he'll cover you up with his jacket, he'll clean anything you break with not a single complaint, he just adores every fibre of your being, even the wayward clumsy ones.
Usopp
Always thinks it's cute. And he really relates to the anxious feelings so he's just treats it like a normal situation, if anyone else saw it then he makes sure to tell them to not speak of it. He will also replace your clothes if you accidentally damage them :) like you wake up and your favourite skirt that you accidentally spilled ink all over and had to bin is now on your bed, brand new and sparkling. He also makes little inventions to help you out, both silly and serious, like a portable air bag that inflates with a button, a little robot that is essentially a roomba, little things like that.
Nami
Threatens everyone who saw it to never speak of it and then distracts you as much as possible until you stop thinking about it. Will cuddle you if you get really upset about it but she doesn't really understand why you would be embarrassed because she thinks everything you do is perfect. She does eventually learn when there's going to be a possible chance for an accident, she's predicting your clumsiness like the weatherđŸ«Ą she stops what she can and tries to teach you how to avoid these situations :)
Prevents said embarrassing moment. Listen she's just so efficient and she spots problems before they happen so she's just secretly fixing stuff because she never wants you to feel bad. It's not until like months into your relationship and you're apart for some reason that theres like a series of unfortunate events that reminds you how clumsy you can be and realise what she's been doing. Lots of appreciation kisses after that for sure.
Robin
Franky
Honestly you never really feel embarrassed around him, he's just so easy going and he manages to make everything seem normal. If you trip or walk into something he just checks to see if you're okay, if you spill something on yourself or rip something he uses his shirt to cover you while you go and get changed. He really could not gaf as long as you still fancy him tbh. But if someone makes you feel bad then it's like that scene from the cat in the hat(he will make it look like an accident) :
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Brook
Concerned if you're hurt or if you get upset, but otherwise completely doesn't care. He just nonchalantly fixes the vase you broke, or helps you up from the floor and just pretends that he didn't watch you accidentally eat a fly. He really is just so in love with you and he still carries the manners of his youth so he refuses to contribute to your embarrassment in any way. But he loves an excuse to keep his hands on you, guiding you by the shoulders, holding your arm, carrying you around, he can't get enough of it.
Jinbei
Lovely beautiful man, he is always embarrassing himself but he's old enough to not care anymore and neither should you, if you fall over guaranteed it's because you're laughing at him just having slipped on deck. With Jinbei you become the type of couple where you bring each other down literally and up metaphorically, there can hardly be any embarrassment to you're sharing happiness all the time.
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tornoleander · 2 months ago
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Finally Ironed out some ninja designs! I Usually don’t share references but with the behind the scenes stuff I’m doing on my Skybound project I don’t have much else I can share yet.
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There is a few headcanon/ Fic stuff in references and powers and the all ninja shot is for first part of Skybound project.
I can share Skybound project Updates! I’m making lots of progress! Trying to focus on p1 stuff so I can put full force into the p2 stuff!
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V
P1 may be ready Summer? 2025
My Skybound talk Video:
* God I have so much to ramble about just when I think I covered something a new angle gets me
* How TF am I supposed to sanely transition from the wholesome reasons I love this season into the horribly problem stuff. Sigh*
* Actually studying videos covering serious topics to navigate how to word things.
* I have to stop drawing so much art for everything or no one will ever see this video.
* The desire to animate my character lipsinking to me is an evolutionary disadvantage I will resist.
Cannon compliant Animatic:
* Song is Ironed out fought a while adding voice lines and I’m way more excited than I thought I’d be for this animatic because I thought it would be overshadowed by how strongly I feel about the other 2. But damn.
* I’m storyboarding after like my life depends on it rn
* Really trying to capture Nya’s character Ark which sent me right back to the video script because I remembered that one reddit post calling her a bitch and rage wrote for 2 hours.
* I am determined to make people see how good her character arc actually is.
* Throwing Jay shade in this one lol he was kinda awful even with being manipulated.
* Trying to convey clear Ideas and story through art is pain but also addicting.
* This is meant as a leading to both part two animatics, but bbnb Kai is shorter than wytyaa Kai. The difference is significant everything else pre dinner with Nadakhan is the same. The other head cannons are almost aligned as far as I know. It’s JUST Kai. What do I do with him?!? Lmao Might just distance him from the other ninja so you can’t tell how tall he is. Thank goodness he is the most gullible and first to wish it all away
P2 out like December if I’M lucky TT
Even though I should focus on first things first, I can’t help myself. these fics have lived rent free in my brain for like 2 years and despite plans shifting the excitement of drawing the story I read and put to music in my head is a force of nature. Thanks Adhd
Wytyaa:
* I storyboarded about half the scenes I want to. Songs are decided but a few parts I’m waiting for the rest of the story for.
* I think I’m going to mess with color palette. I really want to capture the emotion and intensity. I’m learning the full potential of my art and
* I need Final ch released for maping out the second half.
* BUT I AM NOT READY TO READ IT @mondothebombo And from what you told me I don’t think I’ll be able to finish P1 by then. cries*
* I wanna capture the feeling reading wytyaa.
* May make my wytyaa specific refs so I can make animatic art I can post early.
Bbnb
* It’s all storyboarded and half animated
* Thinking about redoing most the earlier stuff, consistency has been a problem
* Also was to mess with colors, dark backgrounds and intense colors.
* I fought with my ref forever to find good enough lightning scar colors cause figuring out the right amount of contrast is pain.
* So now I want to redraw my bbnb scar references a third time.
* May draw other bbnb specific refs so I can make some art for the animatic I can post here early or on on my old A03 book
If you have Any questions feel free to leave an ask! I answer all eventually sometimes I do save em up though so if I didn’t answer something yet, Sorry I will get to you.
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jareaul0ver · 10 months ago
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whenever u have time could u pleaseeee write a nika fic based off “bewitched” by laufey ?? such a cute song for a cute nika fic
Bewitched
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wc: 492 [sorry this is so short, im really tired but wanted to give you guys something] warnings: establilshed relationship, slightly suggestive, fluff pairings: nika muhl x fem!reader
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you're not even gone / i already miss you
You watched Nika drive down the court, a look of fierce determination on her face. She took her shot, and sunk a clean three, earning her first points of the season.
Within the blink of an eye, the game was finished, and you watched as Nika looked around in the crowd for you. You were already making your way down, of course.
The second your eyes met, you both were moving forward, and in a split second you were swept into her arms, pressing soft kisses on her cheek.
"You did it, baby!" You said, voice filled with pride. "Your first point, and it was a sexy three."
She hummed and kissed your temple. "Sexy, hm?"
"Very," you said with a soft laugh.
"Well why don't I finish up here and you can really let me know how sexy it was," Nika said, wiggling her eyebrows.
You smacked her lightly on the shoulder. "Don't be dirty, not in public at least."
She pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth. "Can't help myself, just love you too much."
Hours later you were laying under the covers of Nika's bed. Your head was on her shoulder, legs tangled with hers. There was nothing you loved more than skin to skin with her.
"When do you go back to Storrs?" She asked you softly, running her fingertips delicately over your back.
"In a few days." You shut your eyes and let out a content sigh. "Why?"
She kissed your head. "You could just stay here. With me."
You giggled softly. "I'd love that more than anything, baby, but I gotta see my family eventually."
"I guess so," she huffed. You picked your head up and looked at her for a moment before pressing a kiss to the tip of her nose.
She just stared at you after, a twinkle in her eye that made your chest warm. "What?"
Nika shook her head. "You're not even gone and I already miss you."
You couldn't help but feel a little guilty that you'd have to leave Seattle soon. You cherished every moment you had with her, and you'd lay here with her forever if you could, but you needed to go home eventually.
"How'd I get so lucky with you?"
She smiled. "I could ask myself the same thing."
"I'm serious. The second I met you I was a goner. I didn't even know what love was until I met you," you admitted quietly, your fingers now mindlessly playing with the pendant on her necklace.
"When you say things like that I can barely think straight, y'know." She cupped your face and leaned forward to press a soft kiss to your lips. "I'm glad you let me show you what love is, ljubavi."
"Me too," you whispered, kissing her again. Her words were like a spell, always drawing you further and further in. "I'm so in love with you."
"I'm so in love with you."
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sosadraws · 1 month ago
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SOSA CONSIDER THIS AN INVITATION TO YAP ABOUT IRENE. WHO IS THIS MYSTERIOUS AND WONDERFUL ADLER THATS A FRIEND OF LUCHS!!
Hey Lynx! sorry for the lateness. By the time I finished drawing and started writing I had a “suddenly forgot everything about the character” moment, but here we go anyways!:
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Alright so this woman, alongside two kolibris (Westen and Alan, her husband) long time ago fled her facility after potentially killing their Falke unit after a series of escalations that came from Alan's potential decommission. They stumble on what seemed to be an imperial military base that got partially destroyed an abandoned (not totally true, an Ara had found it first, but they sorted it o peacefully), they settled there and that place eventually became the shelter where all my persona degraded replikas en up going.
Irene's love for creative stuff comes from her finding administrative duties painfully boring, but also having a constant need to do things. At first she would write microfiction as a way to vent, but later she would get invested in them, which lead to her starting drawing in order to help her visualize scenes and so on. In typical adler fashion, she gets bored easily, so she rotates between multiple projects to keep things fresh (in a modern AU she would be the type of artist that has a folder with like +100 wips and it's working on all of them simultaneously).
After being considered for so long “the spare Adler unit” of her own facility, Irene developed an inferiority complex as well as self-sabotaging tendencies and a need for other's approval (I could write a testament about this as well as the other adler, but that's a topic for another day). By now she’s very self aware of this so she tries to keep her emotions in check (to mostly positive results), but it’s a constant struggle between being a rational being vs the need to bitch over the pettiest things.
Despite having very different personalities (guy that is friendly (if also a little smug and unsettling) that loves fucking around with others vs woman that is reserved, serious and has a trouble connecting with others), Alan and Irene compliment each other quite nicely. Alan does this thing where he says some out-of-pocket shit (something something "never let them guess your next move"), but Irene takes it seriously and it leads to either some banter between them or actual debating about the weirdest of topics. They also share a love for reading and Alan makes ground Irene when she starts ruminating (cofcof also Irene has a thing for biorenonance cofcof). They have A LOT of story together, but again, that's a topic for another day.
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Side note, but despite calling each other "husband" and "wife", technically they're actually fiancés. Alan would like to do a little ceremony but Irene feels the time isn't right yet.
Now, when it comes lo Luchs:
When Echo first arrived at the shelter, she was horrified to find out that the replikas that helped her (Alan and Westen) were kolibris (imagine that you're really wounded from falling from a cliff, you get rescued by the mind police and they could find out about your very bad and illegal thoughts). Despite their best attempts to calm her, she ended up more distressed about it, so Irene took it to herself to undo her (back then) boyfriend's wrongdoing. Irene had a gentler approach by mostly giving her space but also every once in a while checking up that she's doing fine. At first Echo was wary of her, but eventually she trusted her enough that when she decided she has going to stay, she stuck mostly by her side, being Irene akin to a big sister for her.
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The friendship that she has with Luchs it’s a very introvert/introvert dynamic, in the sense that they can happily hang out in silence, each other doing their thing (sometimes when Luchs is feeling low on on energy, she goes to watch Irene draw, it’s kinda like irl ASMR). Due to this they tend to stick together during social gatherings.
When Luchs goes out to do some bird watching she makes sure to look out for things that Irene might like, such as feathers, some types of rocks and animal bones which BY THE WAY, the whole arm tattoo thing started because Luchs offered her a reindeer skull that Irene plans to use for practicing wood burning. Luchs has yet to deliver (she accidentally keeps breaking them or the antlers).
So yeah, they have each other. Luchs brings company and is non judgamental with Irene, and Irene gives relationship advice when she starts very angsty about Charlie or lends an ear when Luchs wants to vent.
Bonus random facts:
I didn't get to draw it, but her neutral face looks like a mix of sadness and disappointment. She's aware of this, so she prefers to smile when talking to others.
She's great at math. It probably has to do with the fact that she was built to do administrative duties that often requires doing lots of calculations. That doesn't stop her from boasting about it tho.
She has written a horror novel. If you ask nicely enough she might lend it to you to read, apparently it's quite good.
You know how some people count sheep to fall asleep? She makes spreadsheets in her mind. About what? literally anything!
The concept of Irene has existed on my mind for a while (almost since the conception of Luchs), but Irene being Irene is something relatively recent (since I drew that one headshot). I've decided that it also applies in-universe which is why without makeup or her trenchcoat she looks like a standard Adler unit.
This
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meguwumibear · 1 year ago
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togame x reader writing warm up
It's nearly midnight when the first of many rocks ricochets off of your first story window with a sharp plink. You don't even need to draw back the curtain to know who's waiting for you on the other side, likely still wearing his yellow shades despite the late hour.
You don't know if the man is stupid or suicidal.
Not one to reward poor behavior, you decide to wait him out. Togame will grow bored of tossing rocks at glass eventually.
Or not.
The next rock thrown splinters the pane with a quiet crack. The asshole never could take a hint.
You're not prepared for the sorry looking face that meets yours as you yank back the curtains. Togame's nose is practically smushed up against the ruined glass as he surveys the damage he's done, warm breath fogging up the window. The colorful specs he dons do little to hide the raised purple bruise forming under his left eye.
"Shit," you swear, as you fumble with the lock, "you gonna give me a matching shiner if I say I told you so?"
Togame has the nerve to look offended.
"When have I ever put my hands on you, huh?"
Never. Togame is known for his violence but has ever only been gentle with you.
"Tch, first time for everything."
You turn your back on him as he shimmies gracelessly into your room. If you keep looking at his ruined face, you might forgive him too soon.
"This mean you won't kiss it better?" he asks.
Damn him and his ability to make light of even serious situations.
"Does Choji know how you cool off after a fight?"
"Does Umemiya know who keeps your bed warm?"
A fair hit. You did throw the first punch.
"Baby, I don't wanna fight," he sighs, moody little pout making him look like something the cat dragged in. "If I'm not getting any kisses, I'll settle for some ice."
He closes the distance between the two of you, draping himself across your back. His long arms wind their way around your waist, leeching any lingering bitterness from you with their heat.
You wish it was easier to stay mad at him.
The expression you're met with as you twist around is soft, hopeful even. Apparently, it isn't easy for him to stay mad at you either.
You remove his glasses gingerly, placing them down on your crowded vanity. Green, green eyes watch you set them carefully aside.
"One kiss," you relent.
"Two"
"This isn't a negotiation, Romeo. And you owe me for the window."
"What if I say please?" he asks, following the question with the plead before you can even respond.
Fuck. Fine. Whatever.
The black eye is punishment enough. Now need to rub additional salt into the wound.
You slot your lips against his slowly, and he smiles into the kiss, victorious. You have to stand on your tiptoes to reach his mouth, despite the fact he's made himself small for you.
"More," he moans as you playfully nip at his bottom lip. "Please, baby."
He's already semi hard against your hip. It's always so easy to work him up. You wonder if yours is the only kind touch he knows.
You pull back reluctantly. His lips chase after yours, but you still them with a finger.
"Ice first."
"But-"
"Ice first," you repeat.
He frowns as he flops face first onto your bed, burrowing into your pillows and blankets. When he lifts his head it's to say, "fine, but I expect much more than kisses once you're done playing nurse."
And that, at least, you two can agree on.
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clanwarrior-tumbly · 1 year ago
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Can i request follower!Narinder x follower!reader who's kind heart person? Like they always want to help other even tho they rude to them,and they forgive them eventually but Narinder cannot handle see​ing his spouse being disrespectful.
I want this to be oneshot angst/fluff pls thank you and have a nice day/nightđŸ„°
"How goes...your marriage..?"
"Hmph..hello to you too, sister." Narinder rolled his eyes as he sat by the pond with a bowl of stew, hoping for some peace and quiet.
But of course, ever since his siblings arrived into Lamb's cult and learned that he was betrothed to a mortal..he hasn't known such things.
He could tolerate Heket at the very least, since Kallamar was off flirting with gods-know-who, Leshy was on a missionary, and Shamura was reading their usual books.
"It fairs well. I sometimes find it funny.."
"Hm?"
"Shamura surely couldn't have predicted that I would become wedded to a measly mortal..let alone find myself in my vessel's cult. I was to sacrifice them and all of Lamb's followers. Yet when I ended up here..[y/n] was the first to reach out a hand and help me find my place." The black cat huffed. "When others mocked me..they defended my name day and night despite my past transgressions, willing to lookover the fact I once thought of them as nothing but a pawn in my game."
"You've..gotten soft..brother.." Heket lightly teased, earning her a scowl from him. However, something in the distance caught her eyes, and she tensed. "Go."
"What? Go away, you mean?" He blinked in confusion, taken aback by her command as he sneered. "I open my heart up to you, and you have the nerve to-?!"
"[Y/n]." She simply pointed, and he followed her gaze to the drinkhouse where you were trying to help a drunken follower stand on their own two feet.
While you could normally handle that sort of thing, something about it didn't sit right with Narinder. They were acting rather belligerent, babbling nonsense and causing a barrel to topple over, all while refusing to surrender their empty glass.
Only then he remember you were the bartender for today and were trying to close up shop.
He got up, deciding to let Heket finish his stew, and began walking over. His footsteps were silent as to not draw attention to himself.
He wanted to observe how you'd handle the situation.
"Please, go rest." You gently tried to urge the inebriated follower. "You've had enough."
"Don't touch meeeeeee...I ain't-" A hiccup interrupted them as their face became redder, words so slurred you could hardly understand them. "I ain't gonna..go anywherrre.."
"I'm afraid you must, I'm sorry-"
"Nooooo...I don't wanna be handled by some...idiot who slept with the One Who Waits!"
You froze. "Pardon?"
"Whatdya see in that guy anyway? He haaaates us all..he was..gonna kill us, right? And Lamby, too?" They grumbled, now sounding completely serious and irate. "Why don't you wanna be with Lamby? Or me? Or someone who isn't a monster...do ya hate us, too?"
"No, I don't hate anyone." You tried to reassure them. "But it's rude to speak of Narinder that way."
"But his stupid siblings..they...they hurt us so much because of him!" Tears began filling their eyes, their expression growing angrier. "Why did they have to come? What they did to us...was 'cuz of HIM! EVERYTHING is his fault!!!"
"I hear your pain, my friend. I really do. But Lamb believed-"
"WHAT ABOUT WHAT I BELIEVE?!" They raised their empty glass in a threatening manner, and you flinched, taking your hands off their robe in preparation for an attack.
But before anything could happen-
A black paw grabbed their wrist, claws digging into their flesh. Not enough to draw blood, but just enough to make it hurt and divert their attention to a certain angry feline.
"How irritating.." A trio of red eyes pierced through Narinder's veil as he scowled down at the follower. "I don't know whether you're more annoying now or when you're sober. You may scorn Lamb to your heart's content..but to threaten my spouse is a line you'll regret ever crossing. Now go lie down before I make you."
With a nod and a quiet whimper, they shakily set the glass down on the counter. And the moment he let their wrist go, they took off stumbling all the way to their shelter.
You frowned a little. "Darling, it's my job to lead them to-"
"They'll find their own way. Whatever they break can be fixed in no time." Narinder dismissed as he went to clean off the glass, while you plugged up the beer kegs for the night.
But as he rubbed and twisted the rag, he began thinking about what might've happened had he not intervened when he did..and it only made him angrier.
What if the glass was still full and they decided to spill it?
What if they threw it at your head?
What if they left tiny shards in your flesh and caused blood to pour down your face?
What if-?
*crack*
A sudden sharp pain in his paw pad made him wince slightly, realizing that the cup broke apart, a piece of glass now embedded in his own flesh.
Great.
"Oh no, let me take care of that for you, love."
He perked up at your voice, seeing you pull out a pair of tweezers and a roll of bandages from your robe pocket. "I can do it myself, you know."
"And risk getting more blood on the counter?" You pointed out the red splatters on the oak. "Heavens no."
Narinder chuffed, eventually turning his paw over and allowing you to tend to his injury. "Why do you allow them to speak to you that way? And being drunk is no excuse. They knew damn well what they were saying. They've disproved of our relationship from the start."
"So have plenty of others, including your own siblings, Nari. They'll come around eventually. I have all the faith in them."
"[Y/n]..they almost smashed a glass over your head. And I stopped them from doing so." He growled, frustrated at your lack of outrage. "You are content in letting such disrespect continue without punishment? Without consulting Lamb? If we cannot do anything about it, surely they can."
"I will let it go this one time. But only because I believe they won't do it again. I think they learned their lesson thanks to you." You simply reassured him, before you finished wrapping the gauze around his paw.
With a smile, you brought it up to your lips and kissed it, eyes flickering up to him. "You needn't worry, my darling. I am okay."
"...I'm not worrying about anything." Narinder scoffed, having difficulty hiding the blush beneath his fur. "I simply refuse to tolerate imbeciles who make obscene assumptions about us, thinking there'd be no repercussions."
"Of course, but in any case..thank you for coming to my defense."
"Hm.."
"Now come." You gently tugged him away from the drinkhouse, looping your arm around his. "I believe we have some farming plots to attend to. I promised Lamb I'd work on them in Leshy's steed, but what say...you pick out the seeds you wish to plant this time?"
Narinder's ears perked. "Hah. I thought you were about to tell me to gather fertilizer." He chuckled quietly. "You are too good to me sometimes."
"Well, I figured you could use a break. Come, come!"
And so he followed you to the farming area. While he could sense Heket still staring at him, knowing her grin was smug as ever, he didn't care about what she was thinking--or what anybody in the cult was thinking for that matter.
All that he cared about right now was vegetation would prosper best on this warm spring day.
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natsuyuki-w · 7 months ago
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Desire
Fandom delicious in Dangeon Mithrun of Kerensil x gn!reader " Mithrun of the house of Kerensil, I offer you my strength, my care, and my life. By the duty I once held, and the heed I now give, I swear it. Let it be done. "
1535 words
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- Of course! If you think my assistance could be useful, then I am at your command.- You rose from a deep bow, your prosthetics clicking softly in the quiet hall, the sound echoing faintly as you met the sharp scrutinizing gaze of the elven minister. - Though I have to admit,- you added with a hint of dry humor, -I can't say I expected something like this.-
Idle chit-chat was hardly typical of the kingdom's summons, especially with the past month’s chaos, you’d assumed they’d have other priorities.
Not that you’d complain, better a light assignment then something hideous like hitman work.
The man, stoic as ever, offered no further explanation, only waited for your commitment.
-Well then
- you murmured, drawing a breath. Turning, you faced the ash-blond beside, his expression reserved, but gaze intense. Bowing again, you began, - As I stand before you, Mithrun of the House of Kerensil, I renew the vow I once swore to the Queen of all elven kind and the bright kingdom she reigns. Though I no longer wield a blade, I offer you my strength, my care, and my life. I shall be your ally and shield. Your well-being is mine to protect, your burdens my own to bear. By the duty I once held, and the heed I now give, I swear it. Let it be done.-
You relished the regal theatrics, and peering at the intimidating Captain of the Canaries, it had been worth it. Wide-eyed stare, a look that could only be called lost, like a kitten stranded on the wrong branch. Stifling a giggle, you winked. - Thank you for your service, Captain. Now you can retire
 with another old folk. -
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Outside the palace, Mithrun trailed quietly beside you, keeping closer than expected as you boarded the ship. - Welcome back! - called the ship’s captain, striding over with the crew behind her. - Why, thank you for your hospitality! - your reverenced with elaborate flourish. - Did you get everything sorted out? - the first mate asked, slinging his broad arm around your shoulders.
You were soon surrounded and engaged amused by the enthusiasm. Meanwhile, the ex Canaries, hovered in the background, observing the apparent reunion with a slightly narrowed gaze.
- Who’s the
 uh
 twig tagging along— The big man stopped short, blanching as he recognized the elf. - Captain Mithrun! M-Mithrun of Kerensil, I
 uh
 didn’t mean— Without acknowledging the apologies, the skinny elf reached out and took your wrist, quietly steering you away from the group.
A bit surprised, you let him lead. After all thanks to your job, you’d encountered all sorts over the years. So even someone as brisk as Mithrun was no novelty.
Between greetings and nods, the two of you eventually found at last quiet on the ship's poop deck and he broke the silence. - Why are you no longer in the army? - - Oh? They didn’t brief you on my
 situation? - - Drop the formalities. - he ordered, sounding utterly formal doing so.
- Sure —buddy - you teased, obviously amused by the dichotomy. - I’ll take it to heart. Now, why don’t we—? - - Why? - he repeated, dead serious. You raised a brow, studying him. - I thought curiosity was the last thing you’d be hanging onto, Captain. -
-...-
Laughter bubbled up before you could stop it. His blank expression was just too much - S-sorry, sorry
 - you wiped a tear from your eye, and rolling up your sleeve, revealed your arm. Metal met flesh at your elbow - I’m missing a few
 assets
 to be a soldier these days - you pointed out, showing him the prosthetic. - Plus, I've been drained of mana. Can’t do much without that too.”
- Couldn’t they just
 fix you?- he asked, more interested than you’d expected. - You know better than I that some things can’t be fixed.- You made a small circle with your fingers, peering at his bad eye.
His quiet nod suggested that he understood, though the way he continued to stare was holding expectations for a continuing. - Persistent, aren’t you? Bit late for a background check, don’t you think? - you smirked. - I need to know how troublesome the situation may be. - he replied flatly.
- Ouch. - You placed a hand over your heart in mock hurt. - I don’t even have jabs in my ears.- Proof that you weren’t branded a criminal by the Queen. The elf’s reaction was another blank look, - How about this, a story for a story. - You held out your hand.
Mithrun ignored the sign but nodded in agreement. - Very well. - - O—oh, good! - you weren't expecting to be that easy - Then my question is
-
Before you could finish, a bell rang, signaling the ship’s imminent departure. The clang covered the rest of your words. - If you really want the story, it’ll take a while - he cautioned as the ship began to sway.
- That's fine. - You stretched lazily. - Oh! I could prepare you something in the meantime. Word has it you often forget your own basic needs
- You eyed his unkempt state. It was clear he hadn’t seen a proper bath in ages. - Come on. - and again to your surprise, he followed, letting you tend to him.
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You guided Mithrun through a full routine of health and wellness, complete with herbal infusions, explaining the properties of each blend as he listened. You scrubbed his scalp in warm suds, steam rising around him as you rinsed his hair in the bathhouse’s soothing wood-scented mist.
By the time he sat down for a meal, the kitchen’s noise had mellowed, the space feeling homier, welcoming. He ate a bowl of your creamy stew, the warmth filling him as he sat, finally relaxing.
On the other hand, the elf had drained you on a journey to his past.
Other than the weight of his tales, he was a terrible storyteller. Skipping crucial details and hyper-focusing on minor ones. Yet, in his odd mannerisms, you were hooked, hanging on his every word, more curious than ever about your future together.
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- That’s freaky as
 well, hell - you marveled, finally moving out and staring over the horizon, reflecting on his stories. - I had no idea Dungeons had that sort of "mechanics".- The memories stirred a quiet thoughtfulness in you, recalling your own share of horrors.
- Why did you lose your limbs and magic? - Mithrun’s voice broke your reverie as he leaned in close, the intensity of his gaze startling. - Whoa! You don’t beat around the bush, do you?- laughed and took a step back. - Ever heard of suspense—
Before you could finish, felt a sudden shift, then, in an instant, the deck disappeared beneath you, the world flashing from salty breeze to icy seawater in a blink. A few bubbles escaped your mouth in surprise, but with a bit of thrashing, you found your way to the surface, gasping for breath.
Amid the splashing, you could hear the loud shouts and following the ruckes, your gaze shifted upwords deck. There he was, staring down with his dark gaze looking all too pleased with himself.
You spluttered but quickly dissolved into laughter, the absurdity of it all too perfect to resist. And if you weren’t mistaken, you saw the shadow of a smile on his lips as well.
- What happened? - shouted the first mate already throwing a lifeboat to reach you. Thanks to his large strides, it took him little to come, the wooden sloop shaking from the unsteady grip of his worry - A-are you hurt? - now floating on your back, still giggling like a maniac, you waved him off, and just as your hand reached for his, another surprise.
- Mphf— the air knocked out of your lungs, but this time from the impact of a solid surface. The ex-captain miscalculation of his own strength, brought the both of you on the wooden floor.
You had fallen on top of him, one of his slanky arm under your knees, the other supporting your back. Drenched and dizzy, you gazed up at him. Droplets ran down his ragged yet delicate face, and you could now confirm that glint of amusement in those black pools.
“
 I’m gonna throw up,” you gulped and stumbling hurried over the edge of the rail.
After asking the crew to fetch him a towel, Mithrun sighed and remarked, “That’s what you get for being so
 stubborn.” You caught your breath, sending him a teasing reply - I’d say we’re a good match, Mr. "I Don’t Need to Eat".-
A ripple of chuckles rolled around the deck as the crew began calling down. Convinced you’d been snatched by a sea monster the desperate sailor had jumped in the icy waters and when attracted by his mates’ voices, finally spotted you giving a lazy wave.
“Still not tired of waiting?” you asked, glancing at Mithrun. - A story for a story, that's what you promised. - he reminded, dark gaze unwavering. - True
- You shrugged with a sly grin. - But I never said when I’d tell it. -
-...-
You took a step back, hoping for some safe distance. - OKAY, OKAY! No more baths!- The other elf shook his head - You sure are a fan of the dramatics. I’m sure it’s not even that big a story. -
- First off
 correct. - you admitted - Second
 well, I didn’t want to look too lame to my new employer. But I guess after this
 I’ll survive the embarrassment. -
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To be continued...
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