#this is such a neat happy accident
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NO LITERALLY wings?? shapeshifting?? all these courts?? who the hell is Tamlin and why is he always an asshole??
when I realized I was reading fanfic, I was asking my friend sooo many questions about ACOTAR and she basically helped me tie the lore to the fics. I discussed how you wrote the characters and their personalities and she's like "that's literally them" so it's safe to say SJM does a good job
im uhhh (little embarrassing) I love monsterfucking lmao. so I was looking through the tag and found the fic where Rhys was in his beast form (link!) and the reaping one (link!) and vampire one (link!). so yeah, I went in pretty strong reading your fics
Who the hell is Tamlin and why is he always an asshole? SENT ME bahaha
I cannot tell you how delighted I am that your first exposure to acotar was through beast!Rhys going feral for his wife 😌 I read through it today and I can imagine all those vauge snapshots of canon from Rhys's point of view must have been a little disorienting! But I'm also guilty of going into generic smut tags for monster smut, so I very much relate and I'm glad you accidentally stumbled across mine!
And as far as my smutty fics go, that's a good trio! The vampire Rhys fic is genuinely one of my favorites I've ever written 😂 Every time I reread it I'm like "wow I wish I could write like this again". I don't know what possessed LB that day but I'm glad she could be of service
I'm still so flattered that you've been talking about my fics with your friend, and I'm relieved your impressions of the characters lined up with canon! Do you think you'll ever end up reading the acotar books, or at this point have you just decided that you know too much? It must be so fun (and maybe strange?) that you can fangirl with your friend about feysand without actually having read the canon!
#this is such a neat happy accident#It's brought me a lot of joy over the last 24 hours so thank you again for sharing it!!#and please keep me updated on your acotar journey!#I'm invested now!!
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⚜ L u o c h a ⚜
#Honkai Star Rail#Luocha#Luocha honkai star rail#luocha hsr#isa's fanart#insertsomthinawesome#December2023#No thoughts. wanted to draw luocha#this is my campaign to fight against my art perfectionism#which yeah i've said that before aldjglasdg#but i'm trying to get more serious about it cause its been bad#i mean its been bad for over half a decade at this point (heck maybe an actual decade#yikes)#but i wanna start really putting my foot down with it. its not going to actually change otherwise (or at least its unlikely)#i hecking love black fire so much.#black fire is so cool. its so neat. what vibes. what awesome#happy accidents were had with the glow light around his head HAHA#me double posting art in one night? In a row? Its more likely than you think
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Thinking about Bianca and how annoying it is that she left Nico and that I understand why because I used to be an older sister to younger sibling close in age who wanted nothing else but to be in my space and I get why she left him for freedom and friendship and memories but I also know that when looking at the situation as dangerous, monsters existing everywhere, people with swords wanting to take him away, I would've stood my ground and clung to my little sister with clawed hands and untrusting eyes. Maybe if the situation was softer. If they had been safe longer. If Nico was already settled into camp. If she trusted that everyone would keep him okay.
But Artemis sees her. This powerful little thing. She hunts. She knows what death feels like. The way it clings to her presence. She says her name is Bianca. Artemis remembers. Her father complained about a child named Bianca. Her father complained about a boy, Nico. His nephews. Her cousins.
Her uncle wouldn't give them up. Wouldn't let them leave their mother. He had cursed the Oracle for the prophecy. Apollo was enraged. Hades blamed him for it. Blamed their father.
You killed my children, you killed their mother, my loves, he'd shouted. And you dare ask me for mercy? When have any of you been merciful?
He'd left. The Oracle never recovered. Even now Apollo still mourned her spirit.
But Hades lied. Her Uncle, as much of a truth teller as her brother, lied. It was too much of coincidence. Bianca and Nico. Powerful little things. She could feel it. They radiated something dangerous that made her palms itch.
She would do anything for her brother too. Artemis understood. But that made her even more of a risk to have around, breathing, fighting.
She'll take the girl. Once she finished her mission, shed make sure the girl never comes of age. Permanently. And the boy? Well, she'd figure something out for him later. He seemed a gentle creature. She'd make it soft. A quick shot.
Neither of them would feel a thing.
All she needed to do was manipulate the situation. Careful words. Kind words. Join us, she whispered, planting seeds that spread strong roots through Bianca's terrified mind. Join us and you'll be safe.
Look, uncle, she thought as the roots spread to Bianca's throat and eagerly agreed to her destined doom. I'm lying too.
#happy talks pjo#bianca di angelo#would be neat if artemis used jedi mind tricks to convince bianca to join her#so she could find an excuse to get rid of her#i mean shes a hunter you know? accidents happen all the time
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I went out with a friend to watch the northern lights tonight. It was pretty neat.
#look at theeem#aurora borealis#the night ended in me holding a dying deer which was kinda neat too not gonna lie#i'm obviously not happy that it died but it was an accident (that i had nothing to do with might i add) and it was interesting to be there#i might go back in a bit to see if i can find some bones
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You're so right and you should speak louder actually because that adds so much to Arthur feeling like he let it happen and therefore makes all his earlier actions of bravery and spite null. It also adds to John's little speech about it not being Arthur's fault that he did what he had to do to survive.
Seeing this season as John learning who he is and what that means to him alongside Arthur beginning to process what he's been through and how that affects him is really neat. They're both coming to terms with who they are as people but the journeys they're going on are different.
*thinks about the horig situation as a sa metaphor*
*thinks about the horig situation as sa metaphor*
*thinks about the horig situation as sa metaphor*
*thinks about the horig situation as sa metaphor*
*thinks about the horig situation as sa metaphor*
*thinks about the horig situation as sa metaphor*
#malevolent#arthur lester#malevolent podcast#then there's the sickness#Which reads a like an std metaphor though this lens#Don't know if this was the intended message Harlan was going for#Or if it turned into a happy accident#But either way it's neat and it fits so well
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Knock on Wood & For the Meme of it all Art & Story by: Nora Meld (me!) Full Size Image Here! Prev | Next
As always, this was inspired by @yamujiburo 's wonderful series of comics that can be found here. I wanted to try my hand at doing a comic in my old style, quick an dirty, done in an hour. While I'm not as happy with it as I would be if I put hours into it, I have another personal project I'm working on that I need to focus more attention onto so I'm happy for time spent.
That being said, I have these added head cannons: Jessie has told her new co-workers about her past on accident, and now she will never live it down. Adult Ash is a hat guy. Meowth ended up hating eating snow after a while but never complained. Mr. Mime was locked out of the room at night once they got together, similar to Pikachu, and he did not take it well. Memes Referenced are: Yoshi & Toad Kissing I Just Think They're Neat Lisa Simpson's Dinner Let Me In
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masterlist roommate!simon
Roommate!Soap who leaves his shirts and hoodies scattered around the flat, patiently waiting for the day he’ll see you wearing them
At first, it's just a hoodie messily thrown on his usual seat in the kitchen and you pay it no mind, being just careful not to spill anything on it. Next is a t-shirt, strategically placed on the arm of the couch, almost as if he left it there by accident. Shaking your head and muttering something about boys and their habits, you gently fold it and place it back, unaware of the man standing in the door and watching you
"Thanks for that- must have missed it when doing laundry!"
"Aren't you military men supposed to be all neat and tidy and such?", you mock him with an amused smirk on your face. He rolls his eyes in reply, too busy trying to contain the hot blush that was threathening to spread across his face: any other person he knew would have thrown his t-shirt on the ground instead of bothering to fold it and treat it with such care.
Roommate!Soap who, after you start doing laundry together, accidentally mixes his clothes with yours, sneaking a sweater or a shirt in your pile of freshly-washed sweatshirts. He secretly wishes one day you'll fail to return them, but he's already grown used to the neatly stacked pile of his belongings that you would place on his side of the couch (you wouldn't enter his bedroom)
Roommate!Soap who starts to believe his plans are turning into a success when, one day, the black hoodie he sneaked in your laundry, is still missing from his side of the couch. Trying to ignore the giddy feeling inside his chest, he begins to think of ways to tease you about it, but he closes his mouth as quickly as he opens it, the moment you show up into the living room, promptly planting the hoodie into his arms
"I'm actually glad none of my clothes have slipped in your laundry yet", you joke with him, blind to his resigned expression. "Can't imagine how embarrased I would be if you had to deal with my nightwear!"
He wouldn't mind it, not at all.
But he ends up shrugging his shoulders and cracking a joke about what kind of nightwear you own. The black hoodie never felt heavier in his arms.
Roommate!Soap who comes home from a mission in the middle of the night and can't stop a wide smile from spreading on his face. He actually has to take a moment to process the fact that there you were, passed out on the couch, wearing his black hoodie.
Roommate!Soap who instantly takes out his phone and tries to take a selfie with your sleeping figure, his beaming figure glowing with happiness. His huffed chuckles wake you up and you hide your face in your hands when you realise he knows you're wearing his clothes.
"It's just- you left it on the couch and it got cold and-"
"No need to explain yourself, bonnie. It just took ye a while to get the message."
#amy writes#5 am thoughts#soap x reader#soap mw2#john soap mactavish#soap cod#roommate soap#john soap mctavish x reader#john soap mctavish x you#mw2 x reader#cod x reader
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Mae!!! I am so happy to see you opening up requests for Thawing Out because I am genuinely OBSESSED and I haven’t stopped thinking about it 💖💖💖 So, what if during practice, Remus (unknowingly, obviously) said something to r, like making a correction or something, and it’s something Peter had said. And Sirius recognizes it too!! And you can decide what happens 🥰 Love you! 💖
Thank you for requesting lovely <33
collab with @ellecdc
part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11 | part 12 | part 13 | part 14 | part 15 | part 16
cw: modern au, chronic pain, Peter mention
poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 2k words
You’re an angel on the ice. Gliding and sweeping, your movements so ethereal Sirius half expects to look down and find that your skates are floating above the surface of the ice, or that you’ve etched the next great work of art into the canvas beneath your feet. But he doesn’t, because it’s clear as day that the true art is in the creation, and it’s got its fingers clasped around his. Sirius feels lucky to bear witness.
You have the look of someone who’s given themselves over to their craft, your expression poised but eyes sparkling as you transition neatly from one move to the next until you’re coasting alongside Sirius. You’re wearing leg warmers today, far from unconventional in your sport but it’s humiliating how adorable he finds it on you. Your nails are short and neat, fingers surprisingly warm in his own, eyelashes fluttering as you tilt your head back.
You make it look easy. The way you arch your back until you’re nearly parallel to the ice, skating on only the edge of one skate while Sirius draws you in a circle around him. He starts to lower himself, finding the position you’d practiced off ice. Your grip on his hand is strong, your head tilting until the hairs escaping from your bun are whipping just above the ice, until Sirius is sure you can feel its chill on the back of your neck, and he can’t do it.
He keeps you a few inches above where he knows you’re supposed to be, holds you there with the momentum of his spin, and then hoists you up and into your spin.
You look at him bemusedly as you land on your other skate, a questioning flicker of eye contact Sirius pretends not to notice. You finish out the rest of your routine perfectly.
“That was great,” Remus says from the entryway. Sirius has noticed that he’s taken to watching you from there rather than from the bleachers on days when his hip isn’t giving him as much trouble. He wonders if Remus is almost tantalizing himself, standing on the edge of the ice but knowing he can’t go further. “Y/n, you had a lovely arch going into the spiral, but I want to see you stay more on that outside edge during the lutz-loop combination. Just play it safe on that one, alright?”
“Yeah.” You nod, looking encouraged. “Sorry, I felt myself slip a bit there.”
“You managed it just fine,” Remus reassures you. He gives you a gentle smile, and Sirius stomach does something fluttery and unsanctioned. “It’s good that you noticed, we only want to keep an eye on it, yeah?”
You smile in reply. The commotion in Sirius’ stomach worsens.
“And Sirius,” Remus turns to him, “we still have to get a bit lower on the spiral. Her head should be below her knee.”
Sirius frowns. “I know.”
It’s a non-answer and Remus knows it, but he doesn’t snipe back at him. His brows twitch together thoughtfully. “We’ve still got a few days. Do you need more time to practice off ice?”
“No,” Sirius replies. He wishes the other boy would get angry with him, give him something to shoot back at, something other than kindness and temperance and this lame, irksome understanding. He almost wants to roll his eyes as he adds, “I’ll work on it.”
Remus seems (frustratingly) appeased with that. “Alright, just be careful on your left pick when you get down there.” His voice takes on a teasing lilt. “We don’t need any more accidents this close to competition, Pads.”
Sirius waits for the flash of irritation. But your laughter rings out brilliant and lovely, and Remus is smiling at the both of you with something like fondness, and he can’t seem to find it.
Fucking James. Sirius ought to know better than to automatically trust anyone his best friend likes—you’ve both suffered the consequences from that once already—but it’s difficult to summon his usual disdain for Remus after watching the two of them chinwag and snicker like old friends at practice the other day. It was odd seeing James so familiar with someone else, but Sirius found he couldn’t muster any jealousy. As much as he loathes to think of it, you were right—learning James and Remus were old friends did make him think. In ways that remind Sirius why thinking is one of his least favorite activities.
He shoots Remus the bird over his shoulder. Unfortunately, in doing so, he fails to notice a blemish in the ice which catches his skate, causing him to pitch forward before righting himself.
Remus’ lips twitch, but Sirius holds up a hand. “You can keep your quips to yourself.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“Then you can keep your looks to yourself.”
You implement Remus’ alteration to your lutz-loop combination flawlessly. It’s something you’ve always been good at, confident enough to take feedback and skilled enough to make the changes stick. It’s part of why you’re as good as you are, the amalgamation of every scrap of advice you’ve ever received and a fierce determination that's all your own. You jump and spin and twist your way through the routine beautifully.
Sirius, on the other hand, is not so great with critiques. The death spiral stays exactly the way it is, with your head safely above the ice and neither of you low enough to get full points. And that’s likely how it will stay.
He can tell you and Remus are both getting more frustrated, more disappointed, every time he fails to take it all the way, but Sirius can’t bring himself to go any further. His heart won’t let him.
“We’ll do some more off ice tomorrow,” Remus decides for him as you both take off your skates. “We’ve got the time, everything else is looking beautiful. Sirius, maybe work on getting low on your own today, so we’ve less to cover tomorrow.” Sirius nods down towards his skates. He doesn’t feel like looking at either one of you. “And y/n, the only thing I’m still noticing from you is that landing on your triple axle. You’re a bit wobbly. I want you to focus on controlling your descent and really sticking it. It looks nearly perfect, you’re just making me a little nervous—this would be a shit time to have to go into an early retirement, wouldn’t it?”
It’s said lightly, a hint of a smile at the tail end, but your face twinges like he’s snapped at you. Remus’ brow furrows in mild confusion, and Sirius feels a hard fist clench in his chest. He wouldn’t know what had made you react like that either, if you hadn’t repeated Peter’s words to him yourself.
He told the other coach that I was one bad jump away from injuring myself into an early retirement.
“I’m not actually worried about that—you’re too skilled for an injury that severe to be very likely, I just,” Remus is watching you carefully, clearly trying to reason out where he went wrong, “thought I should bring it to your attention. Only as a precaution.”
You nod several times, quicker and harder than necessary. “Yeah.” Your lips press into a smile. “I’ll be careful, thanks.”
Sirius sets his hand on top of yours, shit at comfort but meaning to try anyway, but your hand slips away as you get up and sling your bag over your shoulder.
“I have to get home,” you say, squeezing Sirius’ shoulder as if in apology. Your expression is tight. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow, okay?”
“Okay,” Remus echoes. He watches you go with a half-remorseful look on his face, like he doesn’t know what he’s done but he feels bad for it anyway.
Seeing as you haven’t waited for him, Sirius supposes he’ll be walking home on his own today. He sets his skates in his bag, beginning to tug on his shoes.
Remus broaches the silence almost tentatively. “Did she seem alright to you?” Sirius doesn’t know how to respond to that, but the other boy goes on before he has to. “Did…do you know if I said something to upset her?”
Sirius shrugs. “Nope.”
Remus can probably smell the lie—he’s not gone to any great lengths to conceal it—but Sirius doesn’t care. The look of hurt on your face has set a familiar protective ire buzzing beneath his skin, and Remus is the one who caused it. Neither of you owe him any explanation.
Remus falls quiet again, but he waits while Sirius finishes packing up, walks with him towards the exit.
“How long have you and James been friends?” he asks.
“A long time,” Sirius answers shortly. “I moved in with him and his parents when I was sixteen.”
“Oh.” Remus turns to look at him. Sirius feels his gaze, wide and curious, on the side of his face. “Yeah, a long time, then. It was nice to talk to him again. We used to run into each other so often, but I hadn’t seen him since…well, since I left, I suppose.”
There’s a melancholy that lays itself down over those last few words, the nostalgia in Remus’ voice smothered underneath. Maybe it’s that quiet tone, maybe it’s the image of James and Remus together, laughing and talking about their futures on the ice during early mornings at the rink, but Sirius feels himself softening.
“He mentioned something,” Remus says tentatively, “about your last coach. It didn’t sound like things ended well.”
Sirius pushes out a breath. “They didn’t.”
“Was he not very good?”
“No,” he can hear the frustration seeping into his voice. He wishes Peter were worse at his job. That he’d been an idiot, didn’t understand your styles, and none of you had ever managed to get along. It would have made everything so much easier. “He was good.”
“I’m not trying to pry,” says Remus, “but if what happened with him is going to affect how you two are with me—if it has anything to do with how I upset y/n today—I would appreciate if you told me.”
So Sirius does. He’s not sparing with the details, and Remus doesn’t begrudge him the anger that grips him as he talks about Peter’s betrayal, where it left the two of you, how it’s still coming back to hurt you even now. It makes him furious, but where he’d expected Remus to take it all in calmly, Sirius is surprised when the other boy’s jaw gets tight as he listens. He has questions: How long had you worked with Peter? Did either of you have to get involved with the case, or did his emails speak for themselves? Does Sirius know how long Peter was playing double-agent?
By the time they’re on Sirius’ block, Remus has begun alternating between shaking his head and huffy, revolted exhalations.
“I can’t believe he said that to her.” He shakes his head, guilt digging into the space between his brows. “I can’t believe I said it, either, but I was only trying to make a joke about myself, not…she’s far too skilled to have a fall like that—well, anyone could, but she’s only as likely as anyone else at her level. Which isn’t very many people.”
“That’s what I told her,” Sirius agrees. “I think she was mostly over it, but…”
“I reminded her.” Remus sighs. “I’ll have to make it up to her.”
“She’ll be alright,” he says honestly. “I think it just surprised her.”
“She’s really good.”
“I know.”
“She has to know that.”
“She…” Sirius hesitates. “Do we ever really know it, about ourselves?”
“Oh, come off it.” Remus gives Sirius a knowing look. His mouth tugs up on one side. “You clearly know how good you are.”
Sirius feels a pleased tingle of warmth in his face. He walks backwards up the stairs to his flat, leveling Remus with a cocky grin. “Am I?”
“Don’t. You maintain your own ego well enough without my help.”
“Oh, but it never hurts to have disciples.” He fishes out his key, unlocking the door. “You could remind me from time to time, just for fun.”
When he turns, Remus is watching him from the sidewalk with a gleam of something like amusement in his eye. “Nail the spiral,” he says, “and we’ll see.”
#poly!wolfstar olympic au#poly!wolfstar#poly!wolfstar x reader#poly!wolfstar x fem!reader#poly!wolfstar x y/n#poly!wolfstar x you#poly!wolfstar x self insert#poly!wolfstar fanfiction#poly!wolfstar fanfic#poly!wolfstar fic#poly!wolfstar series#poly!wolfstar enemies to lovers#poly!wolfstar fluff#poly!wolfstar angst#poly!wolfstar imagine#poly!wolfstar scenario#poly!wolfstar drabble#poly!wolfstar blurb#poly!wolfstar oneshot#poly!wolfstar one shot#remus lupin x sirius black#sirius black x reader#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin x sirius black x reader#wolfstar x reader#sirius black#remus lupin#figure skater!sirius#figure skater!reader#coach!remus
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Portgas D. Ace Headcanons 01
Excuse me Oda-sensei, but that 40 year old Ace is simply criminal. Thank you so much for blessing us with him
Anyway! Have some Husband!Ace headcanons For more Ace content please head to my Tumblr MasterList
Ace is, respectfully, a huge simp for his wife
To the extent that the Whitebeard crew straight up jokingly awarded him with a “Biggest Wife Simp” Award
They made it look official and had Whitebeard sign it and everything. There's even a stamp.
Ace has it framed and hung proudly on the wall next to your bachelor’s degree / college diploma / degree in general.
I feel like despite his own personal insecurities, Ace still manages to be an amazing father
I imagine Ace originally setting out for like one or two kiddos at most (because y'know...what if he's not good enough) and ending up with 3 or 4 kids
Thing is, that’s both your faults.
Ace is tender and goofy with his kids, and he’s so friggin caring: to the extent that…well wouldn’t it be neat to see him with maybe another 2 or 3 kiddos of his own?
(Your husband is hot okay?)
In his case, he swears you have a unique glow about you when you’re pregnant. But more than that when he sees you with your first born, he suddenly wants a big family with you.
I imagine his kids are an eldest son, then his princess, then the youngest boy who takes after his uncle Luffy.
His kids aren’t parentified. He keeps his issues far, far, away from them. Besides, he’s got you by his side.
He was dedicated to making sure they got as much playtime as possible.
He heard about learning through play, and he is DEDICATED to doing that as much as possible
Ace’s kids are spoiled with affection, but not spoiled brats.
While it’s true he’d give them the world, he’d rather let them go get it themselves.
For example: when they asked for a tree house, he gave them the greenlight immediately.
But they had to build it themselves.
It was a super fun project lasting a little over two months with the whole family involved.
Oh and the Whitebeard crew helped too.
It took a while to get the design down initially, then the shopping logistics and whatnot (they used a lot of math here - see education via play)
Building the thing took maybe a weekend or two because the Whitebeard Crew and even the Strawhats came over to help
(It was mostly Franky and Usopp doing work, Sanji was cooking with Thatch)
Uncle Luffy was not allowed near the construction zone after an accident.
They almost destroyed the tree house with their partying once
Ace’s kids were not happy and no one was allowed in the backyard for the rest of the night
He makes sure they have proper manners and self-defense skills
You had to help out here, no lie.
He admitted he needed your help, especially after a dinner with Garp where Makino tagged along to see Ace again
He puts all of his kids into martial arts classes
especially his princess - he’s so proud of her when she beats up bullies
He’s not great at discipline though to be honest. He probably goes about it similarly to Garp.
Ace will not tolerate any of his kids being nasty to their mother. No matter the phase.
You will have to hold him back if you want to let them get their frustration off their chest.
He’ll let them talk, but you’ll have to keep a hand on him somewhere, his arm, his hand, his knee, his shoulder, his back and rub soothing circles
Let’s just say, “talk shit, get hit,” is Ace’s attitude towards anyone being demeaning towards you (more so with adults, not his kids, but that's why they get a scolding)
"Ace my love" (he melts every time you call him that) "the kids’ll start thinking you love me more than them if you do that"
"My kids won’t disrespect their mother though!"
"They’re just venting darling, and when they say or do something that violates my boundaries, I'll be sure to reinforce it. Lead by example right?"
If they ever feel like pissing Ace off for fun they can just say something kinda not nice about you and he'll get mad and they'll flee from him giggling like the little gremlins they are
Ace is veeeeeeeeerry physically affectionate and he isn’t shy about it at all.
At gatherings with the Whitebeard family, he will gladly seat you in his lap, he will happily hug you as you are seated.
His arm is on your waist most of the time.
They tease him to make him tone it down, he does not.
He, in fact, dials it up. Turns up the heat lol.
You have kids? Not in front of them? What do you mean, not in front of the kids? It’s important they know just how much he loves their mama!
So he will continue to be playful with his hugs and kisses and other displays of affection.
It’s nothing too over the top. Just hugs and quick pecks wherever.
Your entire head is fair game for his smooches, your arms (he loves kissing your pulse and then making eye contact, sneaky guy that he is), your shoulders.
Maybe lifting you and spinning you around. Cuddles. Little bites.
He will play-wrestle his kids to “fight” them over getting to cuddle you, and then he’ll just put all his weight on all of you in a group cuddle
Just to let you know, your kids also receive all the warmth and love of his affections.
When his sons are still tiny and adorable, he smooches them all over. The kisses grow less frequent as they grow older, but the hugs do not stop.
Oh no, hugs galore.
Ace still pecks his little princess on her forehead though
When they’re all under ten he’ll wrap them in a hug (after he chased them down and caught them so they’re laughing and screaming) and start smooching their cheeks while they laugh and try to get out of his grasp
Also yes she’s his princess, but that girl has no problem throwing a fully grown man twice her size around, he made sure of it.
I reiterate: Ace is not remotely shy about displays of affection
Like his eldest could have a friend over, and Ace would still launch a full scale hug attack using the rest of his troops (daughter/youngest)
It's complete with screeching, screaming, and a lot of laughter
His kids used to get teased for it, but it didn’t take more than a few conversations for them to instead jeer at the kids that teased them.
"You’re all jealous your parents don’t love you like ours do"
"How sad, your parents don't hug and kiss you"
Their dad, grandpa, uncle - uncles really, are all gremlins - it's in their DNA
The kids are really physically affectionate with each other as a result
Deadass they’ll be kicking the shit out of each other one second and the next they’ll be all cuddled and huddled up playing Mario Kart or something
Ace is his kids’ hero.
His sons aspire to have his level of fitness.
His daughter, when she’s older, uses him as a standard for dating
You're relieved
Ace is touched and a touch nervous, because he is aware of his shortcomings, though he works hard to keep improving
Of course when you look at him, a twinkle in your eyes, and tell him, “I’m so proud of her, I’m so proud of you!” He feels better
When you continue: “if she can find a guy like you, who cherishes her as much as you cherish me, I’d be so happy.”
Ace loves you so much he swears
#portgas d ace x reader#portgas ace x reader#portgas ace x you#one piece x reader#one piece x you#portgas d ace x you#portgas d ace fluff#portgas d ace#portgas d ace fanfic#one piece fanfiction#one piece#ace one piece
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steddie | 1.6k | mature | angst
cw: mentions of parental abuse (verbal)
written for @steddieangstyaugust day 21
Prompt: Please
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The second Eddie steps into the kitchen, he knows something is wrong.
Steve always says he doesn't mind doing the dishes and Eddie has given up on arguing with him about it long ago.
He watches as his boyfriend stands in front of the sink. On any day, he would find Steve whistling to some pop song, swaying his hips to whatever rhythm he has in his head as he soaps up their dishes.
He's usually happy when he does it. Tells Eddie it always helps. And Eddie can't quite put his finger on what's wrong but he's definitely not happy.
Eddie walks up to him slowly, and once he's a little closer he can see Steve's shoulders shaking. It's barely there and Eddie is unsure what to do, but when he reaches his hand and touches Steve, he knows that's the wrong choice.
Steve recoils, dropping whatever he was holding in his hand with a loud noise inside the sink and Eddie pulls back.
He's not sure what's happening, but he doesn't like it one bit.
"Hey, hey. Steve. Look at me. What's wrong baby?
Steve turns to him and his face is red and wet from the tears spilling down. Eddie feels his inside twisting, and his mind goes straight to Dustin and the kids.
Something happened to them, and somehow Steve knows it and-
"P-please," Steve says, so fucking small. "Please, don't be mad."
Eddie frowns, his brain scrambling to catch up.
"Why would I be mad?"
At first, it seems like Steve's not going to say anything but then he moves to the side and Eddie sees the sink.
The sink is a mess. And Steve is usually a neat guy so it takes Eddie one second to adjust. And then, he sees the blood.
It's not a lot of blood, but it's definitely blood. Eddie tries not to freak out because he knows it'll only make it worse
"What happened, sweetheart?" Usually, Steve loves when Eddie uses pet names, but today? Today he almost folds in on himself.
"I broke a-a mug," Steve says and Eddie has to hold himself together, afraid of hurting his feelings with the tiniest reaction.
"That's... ok," Eddie says, hoping that's the right answer. Steve doesn't relax but he also doesn't get worse, so he counts that as a win.
"No, Eddie. I broke a mug. And it's your favorite," Steve says and Eddie nods softly.
"Is it the Garfield one?" Eddie asks and Steve's eyes widen. He nods, doesn't meet his eyes.
Eddie actually dislikes that mug. It was his father's and he felt obliged to keep it, but he kept hoping it would break. Nothing against Garfield, but he would much rather not have anything to remember his father by.
"Well," Eddie looks at the sink, "I'll clean it. And you can go sit in the living room and I'll be there in a second to patch you up."
Steve doesn't move. He just shakes his head and Eddie is a little lost. Maybe his hand is hurting so he tries to grab it but Steve flinches, back hitting the sink and making a pan slide down.
"Baby, what... what is it?" Eddie asks. He's at a loss here and has no idea what to do. If nothing works, he'll have to call Robin because Steve is clearly about to have a breakdown.
"You're mad," Steve says. And... no. Eddie's not mad. Why would he be mad over a dumb mug? Even if it was his favorite, Eddie wouldn’t be made. Accidents happen and he’s honestly more worried that Steve is hurt than anything else.
"I'm not, Stevie,” he tries to sound sincere, but it’s like Steve has checked out of their conversation. Like he’s lost inside his own head.
"I broke your favorite mug. I made a... a mess. But I'm gonna clean it up."
Eddie shakes his head. "You'll do no such thing. You're gonna go to the living room and you're gonna let me clean it. And then you’re going to wait for me because I need to take a look at your hand, need to make sure it’s just a superficial cut."
Eddie moves again and Steve freezes.
"No! I'm gonna clean it," he says and Eddie is starting to get tired. He wants to fix it, he wants to help Steve, but he’s not sure how.
There’s a little voice inside his head that tells him this is not about this particular mug on this particular day. Eddie likes to think he’s a nice boyfriend. Treats Steve well. Because he does. Never did anything to make Steve think he would be mad over a broken mug and definitely wouldn’t be mad about any mess.
Everyone knows Steve is the one putting up with Eddie’s messy ass.
Then, like a lightning bulb, something clicks, and Eddie decides to try something.
"Steve," he says, voice stern, and Steve looks like he was expecting it. "Go to the living room. Right now. I'll be there in a second."
Eddie hates the way his voice sounds. He’s not being rude, just a little more firm than he would usually be with Steve.
Steve likes soft and sweet. But this seems to do the trick. He watches as Steve’s eyes fall to the ground with a small nod and then he walks away, pressing his hands together to keep the blood from dripping everywhere.
He sighs. He feels so out of his depth right now it's not even funny. He wants to call Buckley and ask her what she thinks, but he can’t right now. Steve would definitely hear it and that wouldn’t end up well.
Eddie gets to cleaning. He collects the broken pieces and feels like the mug is mocking him, telling him how dumb and useless he is. Can’t even help his boyfriend.
He’s not in any rush. Feels like Steve could use the quiet time to calm down. To maybe tell Eddie what’s happening and then Eddie will fix it.
But that’s not what happens.
Steve is sitting on the couch, head low as he clutches his hand. His sweatpants are stained with blood and Eddie knows he'll have to ask Wayne how to clean them.
"Steve," he says softly but even that makes him jump. He looks up at him and his eyes are glassy and distant. Eddie fucking hates it.
"I'm sorry," he says again and Eddie sighs. He doesn't know what's happening but he has a hunch and he's going to go with it.
"It's ok. It was an accident," he says and he can see Steve shaking his head. "Stop. I'm talking now."
Eddie's voice is calm but firm and Steve just nods, sniffling.
"I wouldn't lie to you, would I?" Eddie asks.
Steve shakes his head. That's not enough.
"Words, Steve. Would I lie to you?"
"N-no," Steve says and Eddie offers him the hint of a smile.
"Right. So, I'm not mad that you broke the mug, ok?"
Steve nods. "Ok."
"I am mad, though," Eddie starts and he sees fear in Steve's eyes. His insides twist. He's either going to nail this or ruin his relationship. "That you hurt yourself and didn't call for me. Why didn't you call me for, Stevie?"
He says the last part a little softer. Steve's eyes are on him and this is it. Either he cracks him or fucks this up completely.
"I... didn't want you to be mad," he says.
"Because of the mug?"
"Y-yeah," Steve's voice shakes and Eddie takes a step forward. "I didn't mean to, it slipped from my hand and broke, and I thought you would be mad."
"Baby," Eddie says. It's hard to keep his stance. He wants to hold Steve and kiss him and promise him things are ok, but he needs Steve to see it first. "I wouldn't. I couldn't. You know that, don't you?"
Steve doesn't seem sure but he nods. And it’s after a long sigh that he keeps talking, "my... dad. He always got mad. Always yelled at me and called me stupid."
Eddie sighs. Bingo.
"I'm not your dad though, am I?"
"N-no."
"Who am I?" Eddie asks and Steve looks at him and his face finally softens.
"You're Eddie. My... boyfriend"
Eddie smiles. "Yeah, I am. And I don't get mad, do I?"
"Only..." Steve says. He looks like a kid, afraid to get the answer wrong. "Only if I hurt myself and don't call you."
Eddie feels his chest filling up with pride. He nods, takes a step forward, and puts his hand on Steve's face.
"Yeah. That's right. Because it's ok to ask for help. I'll always help you, ok? I'll always take care of you, Stevie. And I'll never get mad at something like this, ok?"
Steve's eyes flutter shut. He's calmer now. He nods and nuzzles Eddie's hand.
"Ok, Eddie. Thank... thank you."
Eddie caresses his face. "You're welcome, sweetheart. I got you, ok? Can I clean you up?"
Steve nods. "Please."
God. Eddie's heart is in pieces right now. He's so sad and so angry at the same time. He wants to storm into the Harrington's house and beat the shit out of Richard Harrington.
He remembers seeing Steve walking around in school. Hidden bruises that no one seemed to notice. But Eddie did.
He's going to kill that motherfucker.
But not right now.
Right now he's going to take Steve to the bathroom in their tiny apartment. And he's going to clean him up and patch his cut. And he's going to take him to bed, to cuddle him and whisper in his hair how much he loves him.
How he's the best thing that has ever happened to him. How Steve makes him so, so happy. How he wants to spend the rest of his life with him.
But tomorrow? Tomorrow he's going to make sure no one hurts Steve ever again.
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I genuinely think it is a rite of passage for a Pokemon fan to champion a Pokemon that is unpopular, uncool, or 'weak'.
For some, it comes quickly. A child sees Gulpin and thinks it's the funniest thing ever. For some, it's trying something new. The competitive battler who just starts messing around, picks up a Pachirisu, and leads it to victory against impossible stakes. For some, it's an accident. The Nuzlocker who got way too attached to an early game friend who refused to die, and grieved for their friend and comrade when their time came. For some, it's defiance. The person who kinda likes Raichu and will defend it from the slings and arrows of all others. For some, it's just comfortably growing up and realising you don't have to justify liking something, just that it makes you happy.
It's easy to be drawn to the crowd favourites. And why not? They can be powerful fighters, cute merch, fanart-bait, they have a je ne sais quoi that draws the eye. And that's still fine! I'm not going to tell anyone they're a bad person for liking Charizard, or Mewtwo, or Gengar, or Pikachu. They're popular for a reason. But there is a kind of zen, a state of enlightenment of sorts, in finding a funky little guy who isn't very good and isn't very popular but makes you smile, and you go out of your way to find them and raise them and maybe even never evolve them, despite them being a damp squib in actual battles.
One of my favourite Pokemon ever is Swinub. Swinub is not a strong Pokemon. In fact, statistically, it's one of the weakest. Swinub has 5 weaknesses, including all 3 starter types. It doesn't learn many coverage moves, and it's abilities are not very exciting either. But I love this little piglet. It's round and soft! It digs up hot springs with its nose! You never see its eyes! I just think it's neat.
It's an important thing, I think, to find a Pokemon you like just for you. Not because it makes you better than 'the normies', but because it makes you appreciate the Pokemon you do meet, not for their battling prowess, but for how much you just want to be around them. When I see @good-pokemon-center-reviews frankly doing the lord's work in sharing people who are just so happy to have their little guys, I see starry-eyed children relishing in the wonder the Pokemon world is meant to bring. Genuine, earnest joy at a plushy Croagunk will always be more real to me that any Smogon tier chart. That guy gets it. The guy being a dick on Pokemon showdown with a team of 5 Zacians and a Mega Rayquaza for spice does not.
#pokemon#feel free to tag this with your unpopular faves#here are some to get you going#swinub#castform#spinda#mawile#sigilyph#venonat#dunsparce
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no caller id
pairing: javi rivera x f!reader, tyler owens x f!reader
word count: 2.6k
summary: she had been there alongside javi the day that their three best friends' lives had been taken. when kate took off to new york and javi to wherever the military took him, she felt mostly alone back in oklahoma. until a handsome chaser blew through town with an ef-3 and stole her heart. things were going great, she was finally happy. until that all too familiar contact flashes across her phone at 3am.
or
two times javi fell asleep in her sheets, only for her to wake up alone, and the one time she finally realized she would never wake up alone again.
warnings: angsty, mega angsty; no use of y/n; mentions of death and grief; grief is really a big theme here; reader is described wearing a dress; no detailed smut but it's implied
*based on megan moroney’s ‘no caller id’
-
Two months.
It had taken Javi two months after the accident to call her. Two months after she found out alongside him her three closest friends had died. Two months after attending three funerals in the span of one week. Two months since she decided to start therapy for the grief and survivors guilt. Two months since she had heard anything about his life.
She didn't blame him, not really, none of the three of them that had survived seemed to talk to one another. She had called Kate a month beforehand, but she hadn't responded. Her texts were opened but never responded to. Kate had arguably taken it harder than her or Javi, so she didn't bother her. Javi, however, him ignoring her burned like fire.
Before it all went to shambles, they had a sort of more-than-friends relationship. She piled into the passenger side of his van on nearly every chase, helped him man the data collection, helped him take care of Dorothy every time she began to fall apart. She sat at the dinner table of his small apartment to help him with his research on his findings, and knew his gas station order by heart. They danced around his kitchen to his dance playlist, and he made her laugh harder than anyone. Addy had always joked that Javi had feelings for her, but she'd been so blind to his advances that she'd never even realized.
But tonight, two months after all of it, his name had flashed across her phone screen, the same corny heart behind it that she'd never deleted since he first put his number in her phone.
Javi <3: You in town?
Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Javi had skipped town after everything, Kate following behind him. She had been the only one left in their small town in Oklahoma. She picks up the device and her thumbs hover over the keyboard for a while before she responds:
Yeah. You too?
She sets the phone down, thinking he wouldn't respond for a while. Javi had always been a notoriously bad texter. But only a minute later it vibrates with a new message.
Javi <3: For tonight. Meet me at The Shack in an hour?
The Shack was a local bar, only ten minutes from her house. Her heart hammers, why was he in town for only the night? And more importantly, why did he want to see her after months of not bothering to check on her? Her fingers hover over the 'send' button, the simple word typed up: 'busy.' She wanted to be angry, to resent him for not bothering to call, but her heart softens, and she deleted the message. Instead, she sends a thumbs up emoji and tosses her phone back on the couch. Despite her excitement, she couldn't shake the feeling that this was a bad idea.
As she walks into the tiny but crowded bar, she tries to spot Javi, but she can't find his curls draping over his shoulders, or pulled into a bun behind his head. She almost gives up until she hears his voice.
"I'm right here."
She turns, and, sure enough, sitting in a booth in the corner sits Javi.
He looks...different.
He'd chopped his curls into a short, neat cut, and he looked somehow heavier behind his usually playful eyes. Long gone was the boy she knew-the one who had an affinity for loud music and taking naps wherever there was flat ground. He had been replaced by someone that certainly looked like him, but didn't have that same spark.
"Hey."
He stands and gives her a small hug, his smile not exactly reaching his eyes. She returns the gesture, settling into the booth across from him as they fall into light conversation over drinks. They catch up after the past two months, all while avoiding the topic that lingers like heavy smoke between them. Her lungs burn just thinking about what Praveen would have said if he saw them now. She finally gathers the courage to broach a relatively sore subject:
"So, what brings you back into town?"
His eyes dart down to his lap, his shoulders slouching.
"Uh, it's my last night home for a while."
She nods, understanding the need to get out of here, the ghosts of their past certainly had begun to haunt.
"Where are you headed?"
"Uh, Iraq."
Her eyes widen as she almost chokes on her drink.
"Very funny, Javi."
"Not joking."
His serious expression shows he isn't. Her heart hammers, what had she missed in two months?
"Javi, what the hell are you doing in Iraq?"
"Don't really know, I just go where they tell me to. Not my job to argue with Uncle Sam."
Her eyes widen further. No way in hell would she ever have seen that coming.
"Y-You joined the military?"
He nods, throwing back the rest of his drink.
"Didn't chop off a head of perfectly good hair for the fun of it."
For a split second, she felt disheartened, everyone was leaving, moving on, while she was here, stuck in the same small town. After another drink, and another, they fall into easy conversation. And by the time she's three drinks deep, he almost feels like the Javi she remembered.
That night is the first night she lets Javi into her bed, only to wake up naked and alone.
But it wouldn't be the last.
-
The second time it happened, she didn't even blame him, it had been hard on both of them. Kate hadn't bothered to come back home, and she didn't blame her, because as she looks around at the framed pictures of her now-deceased friends, she thinks she might explode.
It's Christmas Eve, nearly two years later, and she's sitting on Jeb's mother's couch as the older woman dotes on she and Javi both. Her sweater itches around her collar, and she's sweating, but she figures it has little to do with the heat of the fireplace and more to do with the lingering awkward flames between she and the military-uniform clad man beside her. Her hands grasp a cup of eggnog, but even the rum in it could not soothe the ache burning in her chest.
Javi hadn't even bothered to contact her after their night together. In fact, he'd done more to ignore her completely. Her occasional texts had gone ignored, he had read her message on his birthday, but never acknowledged it, and she was sure he hadn't even read her concerned affections she'd sent on the anniversary of the accident. She'd been so worried about him, and he couldn't have cared less about her.
She puts on a good act, because Jeb's mom doesn't deserve her coldness. The woman was kind, and loved she and Javi as her own. Days like today were hard for all three of them, but the grief combined with the anger she feels at Javi, all she wants to do is run from the warm and inviting living room she's sitting in. After a few hours of talking and gift giving, she finally meets the cold winter air and feels so relieved that tears prick behind her eyes. She takes a deep breath as she clutches the boxed gift in her hand, wiping her eyes on the back of her sleeve. Javi stands only a few feet behind her, watching everything. His voice cuts the silence that had seemed so permanent between them:
"If you want to talk about it, I'm here."
She scoffs.
"Javier, you wouldn't answer me when I told you happy birthday, much less now."
His full name tumbling from her lips stings more than it should. He lets it sting, he deserves it, he'd been an asshole.
"You're right, I-I fucked up. I know. But you're standing in front of me, and you're hurting, and I'm the only one here that knows the way your chest hurts. Kate, she-she just pushes through and ignores it. You and me, we're not built like that."
She knows Javi is right, but she would never admit that, not to his face. Silence falls over them again before she finds the courage to turn around and look at him. He's less Javi and more Lieutenant Rivera these days, his eyes hardened and his tone gruff. She can hardly see the reminiscent parts of the boy she'd spent four springs in a van with. Grief and the regular hardship of life had made them different people, but she still loved him, despite it all.
"I've got to visit Addy's mom, and Praveen's parents after this. You comin'?"
Maybe she was angry with the way Javi had treated her, but her friends' parents were expecting them both, and he had been truthful-they were the only two who understood the specific pain of losing your three closest friends in death, and the other while she was still living. Her response comes out witty, almost like the girl she used to be.
"As long as you're driving."
That night, after they'd split a bottle of red in her living room, they fall back into their usual ritual when he came to town: her writhing in pleasure underneath him. The next day, Christmas morning, the only evidence that Javi had been there was his empty wine glass on her coffee table.
She swore to herself that it would never happen again. As she washed her delicate glasses in the sink, she repeats her vow. When she finishes, she dries her hands, grabs her phone and clicks on his contact. She can't find the heart to block him, just in case he really needs her, but she changes his name in the hopes she'll ignore his calls. 'Javi <3' no longer resided in her phone, only a contact titled 'No Caller ID.'
-
For the next year, she does what she always does: she wakes up early for coffee, gets ready for her job as a local middle school science teacher, teaches for eight hours, and comes home to an empty house. After everything that had happened in the past few years, she'd resigned herself to being entirely alone for the rest of her life. She hadn't heard from Kate in nearly a year, and she'd intentionally not wanted to hear from Javi ever again. He'd called from time to time, only ever in the very early morning hours of a Friday or Saturday morning. She already knew what he wanted, so she ignored them.
She was isolated and alone. The most 'chasing' she did was watching a group of rowdy, self-proclaimed 'Tornado Wranglers' on YouTube. They make her smile on bad days, doing things so absurd she'd never have thought up most of them. One particular night, she finds herself watching a stream of them chasing in a town only an hour or two from her hometown. On a whim, and maybe a little cloudy from her post-dinner wine, she shoots the account a message, wondering if they'd come speak to her sixth graders who were currently studying weather. She doesn't expect anything from it, it was a long shot, and it's likely no one would answer her. But the next morning, as she scrolls through notifications from the time she'd been asleep, a response sits staring back at her on the screen.
'We'd love to come speak to some junior Wranglers! Next Thursday at 10 AM sound good?'
Her eyes widen and she beams, feeling giddy for the first time in a very long time. That Thursday morning, in an act so unbelievably unlike her, she finds herself putting on her favorite teaching dress and maybe a little more effort into her hair. She feels ridiculous the entire time she drives to her job, but when she spots the familiar red truck in the parking lot, she feels like one of her students with a crush.
The second the group comes to her classroom, everything feels a little surreal. They're exactly as they come across on screen-except for the so-called leader. Tyler Owens, in all of his backwards-baseball-cap glory, is infinitely more handsome in person. Her schoolgirl blush only grows when he's charming and easy-going with her students' dozens of questions, relevant or not, and his witty humor. She feels her heart grow when he gives each of her students their own Wranglers shirts before he approaches her with one of her own, and, attached is a sticky note that she doesn't have a chance to read before he leaves. Once her students break for recess she peels it off the fabric and smiles widely as she reads the messy handwriting:
'We're in town chasing til Sunday. Wanted to invite you for a drink, on me. Saturday? Text me, or call me, and we'll make it a date. -Tyler'
His number sits under his name and she finds herself blushing again before pulling out her phone and adding his number into her contacts before typing out a message to him:
'I'm free anytime Saturday night, and there's a great bar called The Shack not far from my place. I'll meet you there?'
From that moment on, it was rare to see one without the other. Only three dates in, Tyler had already asked her to be his girlfriend, and she had accepted. Within the year, she was back to doing what she loved most-chasing storms and helping those in need with people who loved it as much as she did. After hours upon hours of late night crying sessions and tender affections, she explained her treacherous relationship with Javi, and bit by tiny bit, her heart was healed by the goofy and sensitive boy behind the cowboy hat. Falling in love with Tyler had been easy: he was funny, and smart, and kind, and, maybe most importantly, never made her feel like she was nothing more than an after-hours option.
Now, two years into their relationship, she sleeps next to him in her pale pink sheets, his warmth radiating onto her chilled skin in the coldness of the winter night. Tyler's calloused hands are gentle under her shirt, lightly caressing her sides. Both of them are nearly asleep, it's dark, and late, nearly three in the morning. Her eyes close against his chest, and she's almost asleep when her phone rings. She assumes it's Boone-he had a habit of showing up at her house at all hours of the morning. Tyler groans, his voice cutting through the darkness:
"Jesus, what does Boone want this time?"
She rolls her eyes at her melodramatic boyfriend, rolling over to grab her phone from the nightstand as her eyes adjust to the brightness of the screen. When she gets a glance at the name flashed across her device, she stills, simply staring down at it for a minute.
No Caller ID
Every memory of the Javi she once knew flickers in her mind-the boy she once knew, the person that he was no longer. The Javi she loved had died the same day her three closest friends had. She declines the call, letting it fade back to her lockscreen as she simply stares at the picture of her and Tyler she'd set as her wallpaper.
"Baby, what's the matter?"
Tyler's voice snaps her out of her haze. She shakes her head, simply tossing on her 'do not disturb' before rolling back into his hold.
"Who was it?"
She nuzzles into his neck, finding comfort in the arms of the man who loved her-unconditionally, always, not just when she was convenient. Tyler had never left her naked and alone, he was always there when she woke up.
"Nobody, spam, no caller ID."
-
#javi rivera x reader#javi twisters#javi rivera#javier rivera#twisters#tyler owens twisters#tyler twisters#tyler owens x reader#tyler owens
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Teeth
Eddie Munson x Fem Reader
Summary: You and Eddie are freaks. He has a little accident, you have a fun little hobby, and he shows you how he really feels about you’re whole Deal.
Warnings: Teeth. I mention them a lot. Blood, cursing, sex.
A/N: Did I start another blurb series before even publishing the series I was supposed to start last month? Shut the hell up oh my god why are you up my ass about it????
18+ NSFW No Minors
Eddie hooks his chin on your shoulder while you stare at the giant shadow box on the wall.
“Are they all human teeth?”
“Mhm.”
“Isn’t it illegal to own human remains in the US?”
“Well, remains and bones are different categories.”
He knew that would set you off, your phone pulled out for google to fill in your blanks. Eddie laughs at the first result, The Bone Room, and the two of you get a good chuckle out of it for a solid minute.
“Okay so I was wrong, but do you want to own a random set of teeth? What if they’re haunted?” Eddie watches your reflection in the glass front and can’t help but laugh when your eyes go big.
“One could only hope.” You whisper.
“Okay Morticia.” He leaves you to peruse the case of teeth while he wanders over to the weird clown doll corner. This was another little oddities shop you’d found online and asked to go to and he was more than happy to oblige. He also liked weird shit and there was usually a record store close to these kinds of places and of course you needed to find a coffee shop and it would always turn into a fun day date for the two of you.
When he finally gets away from the dolls he finds you at the main counter looking into the glass display while the clerk explains the jewelry inside.
“What’d you find?” He asks, bending directly in half to stare at the tray of rings in front of you.
“More teeth.” You give him an over the top smile that he returns, snapping his jaws at you while the poor woman behind the counter watches your flirting. She tells you prices instead of paying the two of you any mind and you hem and haw while Eddie just takes his wallet out to slide his card across the glass.
“Ed.” You don’t even look up at him when you warn him.
“Which one was it? Is it the big molar? It’s the big molar isn’t it?” He gives the clerk a scoff. “Can you believe this? I take her out here and she thinks I’m not buying her a tooth ring?”
In the cafe you’d found ahead of time you inspect your new ring while he chews on his straw, watching your rub the crown of the tooth.
“You really didn’t have to buy me this.” The barista comes over then with your coffee and a massive croissant. “Or that.”
“What? It’s a sweet treat for my sweet treat.” He tears a piece off and wiggles his eyebrows. “Also a sweet tooth for my sweet tooth.”
“Now you’re pushing it, Munson.”
“You love it.” He pauses when you kick his boot under the table and it turns into a violent round of footsie.
“Can I ask why teeth?”
“I don’t know. I just think they’re neat.” You shrug and fiddle with the ring on your middle finger. “They make a cool sound if you click a handful together. Very satisfying.”
“Yeah?” The smile is evident in his voice, even if you don’t look up to see it. “Sure there’s nothing else?” He goads, waiting for you to look up and narrow your eyes at him.
“And maybe I also want to crunch them like a sugar cube.” You make the exact face he thought you would and it makes him feel a warm coil of familiarity.
“There it is.”
“What?”
“I knew you wanted to do something weird with it.” His laugh turns into a cackle when you discreetly bring your hand up to click the ring against your front teeth.
“Okay so if it’s loose like…No I mean I can see it moving in the socket…ugh god, yeah…alright…” Your tone doesn’t give Eddie any hope and when you scrunch your face up while the dentist office tells you something longwinded, he sighs.
“How much? Oh shi- yeah okay. Thank you though.” You hang up and shoot him a steady look. “Guess.”
“I’m gonna loose it?” Eddie says, bag of frozen green beans held against his cheek.
“No shit.” You set your phone down and make your way to him leaned back on the couch. “You could potentially keep it for a cool $600 though.” Your hand replaces his on the slowly thawing bag and the sharp intake of breath isn’t from the new pressure on his bruise.
“$600 for one tooth?”
“Mhm.”
“Fuck it, I’ll just pull it.” Eddie sighs at the ceiling and closes his eyes. He’d been fucking around, trying to swing his guitar around his shoulders during practice. Had actually managed a few turns but when you’d come to pick him up he wanted to show off. A fast toss over his shoulder and he didn’t see the corner of the body barreling for his cheek.
Your loud gasp and a lot of blood down his front later, he was in pain and slightly humiliated but definitely not out $600.
“Will you help me?” He gently rolls his head your direction, his cheek cradled between veggies and your palm.
“Of course.” You smile sadly at him. “It’s gonna hurt though.”
“Yeah but I like that.” He wiggles his eyebrows and you slap his chest, t-shirt still stained red.
“Come on, ladykiller.”
In the bathroom he braces his hands on the counter while you try to find the best angle to pull his tooth out at.
“I’m trying to not just have my whole fist in your mouth.”
“That’s hot.”
“Shut the fuck up.”
“Yes ma’am.” Eddie grins at your flat look. You blindly grab the pliers from behind you on the vanity and take a deep breath before holding his mouth open.
“Please don’t bite down.”
“Eye hot yuh yiked hat.” He’s drooling around your hand and trying to be cute. It’s unfortunately working on you.
“Not like this, no.”
He feels the pliers on his tooth, a gentle tug while you rearrange and then you look at him. Eyebrows scrunched and a concerned look in your eyes. “You okay?” He nods. “This is gonna hurt baby, I’m sorry.”
He barely has time to process what you’ve said. He was waiting for a count down but instead you’ve yanked once, swiftly and without remorse. There’s a small clatter where his tooth bounces around in the sink and then he feels the pulse of pain. A new rush of blood floods his mouth and he doubles over the sink to spit and moan.
“You didn’t even warn me!”
“You would have bitched out and you know it.” You rub his back while he pouts and keeps spitting into the sink. When you disappear to get him a glass of water, he rinses out the sink and picks up his tooth to inspect it. “What tooth is this anyways?”
“The tech said she thinks it’s a premolar from what I told her.” You answer as you come back into the cramped bathroom. He pulls his lip back to stare at the dark space between teeth.
“You don’t already know which one it is?”
You just roll your eyes. “She did say it was good that you didn’t crack it, could have been worse.” You shrug and Eddie holds out his hand to you, tooth sitting in the middle of his palm.
“It looks cool.” He says, rolling it around until you pick it up gingerly and inspect it. There’s a little bit of blood stuck in the root but you keep turning it over, running the pad of your finger over the ridges.
“You’re gonna keep it right?”
“Duh.” He laughs. You hand it back to him and help him clean up from his traumatic afternoon.
A couple of aspirin and a hot shower later and he’s ready for bed, just waiting on you to finish in the bathroom. He watches your shadow under the door where light seeps out and runs his tongue for the umpteenth time through the new space in his teeth. He’s not trying to make it worse but it’s a foreign void that he can’t stop fucking with. The bathroom door opens and you’re already staring at him, head cocked to the side. “I can see you tonguing that spot from over here.”
“You’ve got a spot I can tongue.”
You don’t respond, just turn off the lights on your way into the bedroom where you climb over him on the bed. Before you can drop onto your side he grabs your thighs to hold you above him.
“Thanks for not laughing at me.”
“You looked pretty cool, right up until you smashed your mouth.” You brace your hands on his chest and lean in close. “The blood really distracted me.”
“Yeah that was quite a bit.”
“Still hot.”
He grins and you can spot the missing tooth in the dark before he pulls you in by your chin to give you a kiss. When he opens his mouth to deepen it, your tongue immediately finds the new space like his had. He laughs into the kiss and sits up on his elbows to be closer. It’s a slow make out session that he has no intention of taking further, mostly delighting in you running your tongue along the inside of his mouth, probing.
“What are you laughing at?” You ask, annoyed at him huffing into your mouth.
“You keep trying to feel it with your tongue.” He grins at you in the dark, features highlighted by the light seeping in through the curtains.
“It’s a new spot in your mouth for me to tongue.” You mumble and Eddie says something about tonguing your new hole and it devolves into a slap fight that ends with you two sleepily kissing again.
For a few weeks his tooth kicks around the house in a little ring box you had laying around. Jokingly he stuffed a scrap of ribbon in it and called it a coffin, started giving a eulogy to it every night after dinner.
“Craig had the toughest job-“
“I thought he was Neville?”
“I changed it. Craig is a working man’s name.”
“In what country?”
“Coal country.” Eddie jokingly bangs his fist on the table and continues on about Craig and his 52 family members.
Wayne comes by for dinner and sees this little atrocity and just stares at it for a good while, you and Eddie tight lipped trying to not laugh at his blank expression.
“I don’t know what to expect when I come over here, ever.” He’s not judging, in fact he’s almost too accommodating when him and Eddie disappear after dinner for a smoke on the balcony and he gives his nephew pointers on what dremel bit to use so he doesn’t crack the tooth.
“A matching necklace? Christ Eddie don’t tell me you knocked out two teeth!”
“No! I bought the ring for her, this was just a mistake.” Eddie gestures at his mouth and Wayne chuckles at him.
“Always gotta show off.”
“For her? No shit. If I don’t, she’ll realize how much better she can do.”
Wayne tilts his head and fixes Eddie with a stern look. “You know how I feel about that.”
“I’m kidding.” He tries to wave him off.
“Well I’m not. Who else is gonna bring her home a tooth on a chain?” Eddie can see how that makes Wayne shudder, even when he’s trying to be forcefully reassuring. He pats his uncle on the knee before standing and stretching.
“True. There aren’t any many of my kind left.” He says it wistfully, staring off the balcony into the dark until Wayne huffs at him to get inside and help with the dishes.
The bit dies off and the ring box ends up on your nightstand. Eddie thinks it’s a pretty romantic gesture the way you’ve given it a prime spot next to your Dracula figure. He also knows you’ll notice it missing so he takes the tooth when he gets home before you and knocks the box over and when you notice he plays dumb.
“Oh no, did you knock it over?” “No I haven’t been in your nightstand.” “Why would I take it?”
He brings it with him to work and Wayne refuses to touch it, instead standing off to the side and letting Eddie drill the minuscule hole. He texts you on his lunch and tells you he’s got some extra stuff to take care of, running late, don’t worry about dinner. He uses the extra hour to run by the antique store and buy a chain and he gets so lucky because you’re in the shower when he finally comes home.
Ring box stolen from your drawer and left oh so carelessly in the middle of the counter next to your big water cup. He doesn’t even change out of his shop clothes, just sits and waits for you to come out.
When you do, you give him a kiss in passing and then stop short in the kitchen. “Eddie?”
“Hmm?”
“What’s this?” You hold up the small red box and gently shake it at him.
“I made you something in art class today.” He says bashfully and leans over the arm of the couch to dangle his arms while you laugh at him.
“Aw, did Mr. Munson help you with your finger painting?” You pout at him and he flips you off. Your laugh cuts off when you open the box to stare at the necklace.
“Is this your tooth?”
“Yeah, I lied.” He grins at you, “I staged the crime scene.”
“You scum.” Your giggle gets him off the couch, the scrunch of your face makes him cradle your jaw, your whispered ‘thank you’ earns you a kiss and before you can fumble with the chain he’s pulling it out of your hands to loop it around your neck. He does the clasp up and smooths a hand down over the tooth.
“Oh you make that look better than I ever did.” His dimples push through his warm smile. “Almost like it was made for you.”
“God you are laying it on thick today huh?”
“I mean it, everything I am is for you.” He holds you close while you fiddle with your new jewelry. It’s so small for such a significant thing, at least to you. Especially when he starts talking like that. Eddie notices your pensive turn and pulls his head back to look down at you.
“Did I…did I read this wrong? Is it too much?” He knows he’s bad at that sometimes. He knows you like this stuff but maybe wearing a familiar tooth is a step too far. Maybe it feels like a weight around your neck instead of a thin rope of silver. It’s his turn to get quiet and he tries to pull away but you latch on around his ribs.
“This is the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever given me and it’s really weird and I love it a lot.” You mumble into his chest where your cheek is pressed tight. “Thank you.”
He watches you the rest of the night playing with it. Twirling your fingers through the chain and rolling the tooth around, staring down at it and once tapping it against your own teeth like you did with the ring. It gives him a new affection for you, to see you admire something he not only made you, but something that’s wholly him.
Later when he’s waiting for you in bed while you wander around and look for your phone, the intrusive thought he’d been keeping in finally breaks the surf of his mind.
“I’d knock out all my teeth for you.” He says it into the quiet and you pause at the foot of the bed to tilt your head at him.
“That’s so sweet.” You giggle quietly, the look you give him is contemplative.
“No I’m serious.” He leans up on his elbow to look you square in the eyes. “I’d hang ‘em all on a silver chain, drape them on you like pearls.” His stare gets a weight to it that makes you feel rooted to the spot. “I’d make you an altar out of them. Give them to you like little offerings.”
“You make it sound like I’m a deity you need to please.”
“Oh but you are.” He rolls up off his elbow to crawl towards the end of the bed and kneel in front of you. “Everything I do is in service to you and your good favor.” He splays a hand over his bare chest and you know he’s doing a thing but his wide eyed eagerness on his knees is doing it for you.
“And you’d hand over your teeth just for that?”
“I’d hand over my life.” He grabs your hand and presses it over his heart. “I’d leave imprints of my teeth all over you and then hand them over on a platter.”
“Why is this so hot?” You mutter at him, your body flush with heat suddenly.
“I know, keep playing along.” He whispers back, eyebrows twitching upwards. “I’m simply a vessel for your happiness and if that means sacrificing pieces of myself,” his hands settle up behind your neck to pull you down for a kiss, “then I’ll pull them all out by the root and leave them on the steps of your temple.” He keeps pulling you back until you have to catch yourself and climb over him, his lanky frame unfolding under you.
“Does that make you a patron or a priest?” You straddle his hips and break away from the kiss to stare at him, necklace dangling down against his cheek.
“I’m your most devoted follower.” He whispers in the small space between you two, eyes searching. “I’ve pledged my life to you.” His fingers dig in to your bare thighs. “Not for just a reward in the afterlife but in the hopes that you’ll grant me one look at your divine form.”
“Eddie!” You laugh at him and sit up, face and neck hot from his praise.
“What? I mean it! All of that for one…touch.” He slides his palms around to grab your ass and you laugh harder.
“That’s all you want? Just a touch?”
“Well maybe a long, continuous one.” He tries to slide his hands up further but you stop him at your hips. He looks determined to feel up your sides but your grip on his wrists holds tight.
“You wouldn’t want to anger your god now, would you?” His eyes widen at your sudden boldness. When you can tell he’ll sit still you unhand him to pull up the hem of your shirt slowly. “You give me a lifetime of servitude for a single touch?” Before you pull it over your head you give him a wicked a grin. “I’ll reward you with your single wish.”
He understands the game but his hands still twitch when you toss your shirt to the side, chest bared to him. You wiggle around until you get your underwear off, his hands still attached to you. He gets one touch and he won’t waste it, not now that you’re fully naked over him. You pull his boxers down, hands grazing sensitive skin and he pushes his head back into the pillow with a groan.
He clenches his jaw when you grind down on him, sliding over the head of his cock. His eyes rolling when you lean back and brace yourself on his thighs. You gasp with every roll of your hips and he whimpers.
“God damnit can I please touch you?” He grinds out through clenched teeth. The wet slide of your cunt has him breathing shallow and fast, the urge to buck up and fuck you settling low in the base of his spine. “C’mon, don’t I get some kind of fu-uck…” He stutters when your nails drag over his thighs. “You gotta show me some k-kind of mercy.”
“I’m already wearing a piece of you Eddie.”
His chest rises and falls, nostrils flared while he breaths heavy against his own willpower. The tattoos on his arms jump when he digs his fingers into your hips harder, an anchor he has to keep in place until you tell him he can move. “Why don’t you show me just how devoted you are?”
His first instinct, his first want, is to push you back and hold you down and make you sob about it. He’d like to hitch your legs up over his hips and make you remember the feeling of him deep inside for a few days.
But that’s not how you treat a goddess.
He slides his hands up your back with care when he sits up, his lips pressing softly into the space between your breast. He kisses up and over the necklace, warmed by your skin under it. Kisses up your neck until he has to pull your head down to meet his lips again. His fingers don’t grasp like they did a moment ago. They dance light over your skin, along the edge of your hair. They trace up under your jaw and over your cheeks, down your nose. He follows their path with his mouth, gentle kisses following gentle touch.
Your hips don’t move as rapid as they were and he uses it to his advantage. He presses up until he hears that gasp when he breaches you, soft heat clenching around his cock almost enough to set him off. He basks in the moment too long and you try to move your hips down against his but he makes a sound of protest, something in the back of his throat like a whine. “Give me a second, I’m having a moment with divinity.”
Your laugh travels through you, vibrations under his palms when you test his resolve again. Another gentle roll and he lays his face into the crook of your neck to mouth at you. Tongue running flat up the tendon on display when your head tips back and he finally buries himself fully. Your fingers wind in his hair while he snakes a hand between you, thumb finding your clit and you both groan when your movements speed up. He’s already too close, got himself all wound up in the role play but he needs you to finish first to put a nice bow on this evening.
“Y’really like it?” He pants against you.
“Of c-course I do.”
“Y’gonna wear it every day?” You nod and whine when he puts more pressure on his thumb. “Let everyone know what kind of freak you are.” You keep nodding and grinding down on him and that line of heat licks up his spine fast. “Gonna show everyone aren’t you?” He can feel your thighs trembling around his hips, knees digging in on every downward movement. “C’mon baby, wanna see it.” It takes him a lot of effort to pull his head up to watch you. Your chin tilted up, mouth hung open and panting, all for him. He can feel the tension building in you and can see the crease between your brows. The low whine that crawls out of your throat and goes on and on when he finally hits your peak.
He huffs, almost laughing at the way you break, amazed as always at the way you react to him. You sit flush against him and grind and pull his hair and his eyes roll back in his head, a line of curses spilling out of his lips that you catch with your own. He comes fast and hot, the edges of his vision going spotty while you keep his head steady and swallow all his grunts. In his foggy thoughts he can feel you run your tongue over the new space in his mouth, the feeling just foreign enough that it makes him shiver before he laughs again at your interest.
It takes a moment for you both to come down, you slouching into Eddie and making him fall back against the pillows, still out of breath.
“So I take it I’ve won your favor.” He grins up at the ceiling, running his hand over your back.
“You keep calling me a god, you can have whatever you want.” You roll on your side and nuzzle up under his outstretched arm.
“Don’t teeth have something to do with prosperity?” He snaps his fingers behind your head. “With all these new adornments, we’re gonna be swimmin’ in it baby.”
“Oh so that’s why you worship me, for my money!” You poke his side hard enough he flinches and curls around you suddenly, locking you into a hug and pinning you down on the bed. His lips brush your ear when he speaks lowly to you. “I worship you because you deserve it, the prosperity is a perk.” He keeps you close for a while until you both get too hot, sticky skin separating under cool sheets. He still has to touch you though and his foot finds yours while he reaches over to play with your necklace.
“I’m glad you’re cool with this.”
“I’m glad you’re cool with this.” You laugh. “We could have been having a much different evening otherwise.”
(Sacrifice for the read more)
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Hello!! I'm the same girl who requested for IT reader a while back, and I really liked it!<3 I wanted to try out requesting again so I'm here once more😭😭 Anyway, are you fine with family-centered stuff? Could you do heavy angst with Father!Number One!Izuku with his little girl? You can decide whatever for the child, really!(but personally I prefer daughter) So, since Izuku is the number one, Y/N is probably the one mostly taking care of their kid. What if there was this huge accident that killed Y/N because the heroes were too late to detain the villain? Plus points if Izuku was the hero assigned. So ever since the death, Izuku is suddenly the caretaker and tries his absolute best to make his kid happy but fails since the kid absolutely loathes him for being absent and for being too late to save their mother. What do you think Izuku will do?? So, yeah!! It's up to you if this isn't weird</3
Its not weird at all my love, thanm you for the req and I'm so glad to have you requesting from me again, feel free to stop by once more and leave some more, youre always welcome<33 I would also like to apologize to you and everyone else who has made a req and I haven't gotten to it. I won't get into detail but I've been busy, I've closed my reqs so I can get all my old ones out, most of my reqs are like months old anyways so here i am clesning out the closet.
...
“mr midoriya, where would you say your life went wrong?”
“ ....when I left my wife.. ”
Izuku was always infatuated with you, your beauty, your strength, how compassionate and caring you were. He thought you were just neat. You didn't have a quirk yet like him you still made it into UA. You were pretty smart and tried hard at everything you did. He admired you for that, he watched you closely and studied you. Not in a creepy way, but in a "I'm in love with you, notice me" way.
In your second year you'd finally taken a liking towards him, he was quite cute despite his odd haircut. You understood it was due to the trouble he went through in the war, he was strong reliable and terrifyingly selfless. Izuku midoriya was a great guy and you had really liked him, the two of you started going on sweet little dates together, walking in the park sharing an ice cream, going to the movies to see whats new, going to a carnival with some friends and sneaking off alone.
Those were the days izuku wished could've lasted forever, where nothing was wrong, peace was restored and everyone was happy. But as life does. It moves on. The world changes right before tour eyes and before you know it, it's been 8 years. The two of you are still happily together in fact married now, and expecting. Izuku and you had gotten out of college a couple years ago, he became a pro and you were in charge of the Deku Foundation. A silly name for a silly little guy.
Izuku was a family guy, he didn't see his father much growing up so he knew this was what he wanted. He wanted to assure to you, the mother of his unborn child, and to his unborn child that he would be there, always and forever. He held you at night and made you breakfast in the morning, he wasn't always there to eat it with you but he made sure to leave adorable little notes for you to feel special, you kept busy doing work for his company, exercising to try and reduce stretch marks and baby weight in the future, and cooking for fun. It was hard being pregnant but it was worth it. Is what you'd say.
Izuku could never forget the moment you had his baby. Those were the absolute happiest moments in his life, no doubt about it. Watching his baby leave from your birth canal, he seen the way you screamed in agony with the final push. He was so mesmerized by it all, his wife just gave birth to his... beautiful babygirl.
“congratulations, mr and mrs midoriya, it's a girl.”
When the doctors gave you your baby, he watched closely as she stopped crying immediately at the contact of your skin, your soft voice shushing her sounds away, he pleas and cries powering down as she calmer herself. Its like you were a magical being, izuku was so enamoured with it, with you. With his new baby.
Holding her for the first time was his dream, it was even better than he could've possibly imagined. He sighed and tried to hold back tears, yet they fell asleep if a water faucet was left on, he sniffled and hiccupped as he tried to hold her closely, he took off his shirt so she could feel that skin to skin contact that babies are supposed to love. He read a book about parenting, of course the book would've been better for you to read because it was how to prepare for child birth but either way; it worked.
This moment, truly was the happiest one yet; but as life does. It moves on. And before he knew it 6 years had passed, you're beautiful babygirl was in first grade! She was making friends learning a lot and laughing and playing like kids her age should. She loved the outdoors and loved animals, she enjoyed small things like butterflies and rabbits. She was such a vibrant little girl, a splitting image from izuku too, mind the couple of genetics of yours that had shined through. Izuku loved his girls so much, watching the way you two played together, when you did her hair, read to her, his favorite thing of all was to watch you to crochet.
It was so calming, you would hold her close and show her carefully how to apply the yarn, teaching her how to swap colors smoothly and humming gently to her. Izuku watched you both closely, he's a very observant man, with that being said watching his girls was hos favorite thing to do. It's like you two were a show he could never get tired of, a program that was played just for him.
Izuku was a pro now and as much as he loved you both, he had a job to do. One that he couldn't fail, it ate him away that hr couldn't just sit with his girls all day long. Listen to little stories his baby has to share about her day at school. As much as he disliked it, he would even love to listen to his wife rant on and on about a little dream she had the other night, how the washer was in the kitchen instead of the laundry room and looked like an oven instead. Such odd dreams you had.
Izuku hadn't even realized it, but he had been spending more and more time at his agency, accidentally sleeping there and coming home 4 hours before he had to go back up there. It was tiring, he was tired, yet he had a job to do. And he wouldn't fail. You two started seeing less of him, it saddened your daughter deeply yet you tried to remind her constantly that he is a hero, and heroes have jobs to do. She would nod and give you a smile still laced with disappointment, sadness.
What really pissed you off was when he promised your little girl he'd be there for her science fair, yet didn't show. She won and everything, he promised her he'd help with making it. Whoops he couldn't do that because he was working. No matter! He apologized so you both just slid it off. However this was the last straw for you. Driving home you were furious, seeing your little girl in the mirror with a frown as she fiddled with her ribbon.
You stayed up late that night. Assuring that you'd catch him, and once you did you two argued. Which is something you'd never done, of course you two would bicker and disagree on things, but this was unlike those times. You were both yelling and had possibly woken up your daughter, but neither of you could care. Too blinded by your own fury, you had banished him and he left without a word. Without a second thought, without looking back.
“ I wish I looked back.... I wish I would've apologized, I wish I could've been there when she needed me; when they needed me... ”
That was the last time he'd seen you alive.
It was a normal day for the most part, besides the fact that you two had argued two nights before and hasn't spoken since. Izuku hadn't seen his daughter nor spoken to her either, it was eating away at him but he didn't have time to focus on that right now.. he was getting a signal from one of his sidekicks out on patrol.
“ deku! We need you! There's been an accident! There's a huge fire breathing villain who's trapped a woman and her daughter!”
A woman and her daughter.... That had to be a coincidence. It was, it had to be. Tons of people have daughters and just so happen to be women as well. Hell, he bets it's not even her daughter!!
“its- it's your wife...”
A loud scream was heard on the sidekicks line, izuku was terrified, he moved without even thinning jumping out of the nearest window zooming through the air trying to reach you. So many things going through his mind, why were you out? What were you doing? You never go out, why now! Why was his daughter there?
He was trying his damnedest to reach you, he couldn't help but feel like time was slowing down. Like he wasn't fast enough, meanwhile in actuality he was moving faster than the speed of sound. So why wasn't he there yet? He groaned in annoyance at this, he couldn't shake the terrible shrieking sound that came from the other line.. it terrified him.
“ come in! Is everything alright?! What's the situation?! ”
“i...”
“ what?! what is it, spit it out?! ”
“ I'm sorry... ”
Sorry? Sorry for what? Why the hell was he saying sorry? The only question izuku could find himself wondering. Upon arriving he sees people running, fire burning everywhere and debris filling the air, he coughed through the smoke putting on his mask and zooming through the thick fog. He found his sidekick, no wonder his voice was so hoarse and dry, he had collapsed and passed out. Izuku took him to the nearby ambulance that was present before going back through the smoke to find you.
Other heroes were arriving on scene and searching for other civilians, trying to get them out while others tried taking down the villain, he was huge and was not going down without a fight. Izuku couldn't even try to worry about the villain, you and his daughter were his main focus.
“ daddy! Please help us! ”
The sound of his daughter wailing with a cracky voice, it shattered his heart he followed the sound of crying until he found the two of you, your daughter by your side holding your arm tears falling down her reddened cheeks, she was dirty and covered and muck. She also just so happened to be covered in...blood.
“ princess... what.. what happened.. ”
His daughter ran into his arms bursting into even more tears hiccuping and sobbing. Her cries were loud and full of sadness anyone within a mile radius could tell and even hear, izuku picked you up in his arms not even taking the time to assure you were okay, not checking a pulse or to see if you were breathing. He just swooped you up in his arms bridal style and had his daughter on his back, telling her to cover her mouth. He zoomed through the smoke and handed you both over to the ambulance, they were quick to ail you both.
Izuku was soon to go help the other heroes in scene but first he looked back to you, to see them giving you air and performing CPR, his eyes widened and just as he was about to go back over to you, he tried to rush to your side before being caught by none other than..
“ deku, c'mon we need you. ”
“ kach- erm- dynamite. I can't, I have to— ”
“ come. on. ”
The fiery blonde yanked the large green haired male by his suit and dragged him back into action, he thought this was for the best. Leaving your side this last time to finish slaying this beast.
The fight was over and everyone who had been injured was taken to the nearest hospitals, the villain who had caused all of this trouble was taken into custody and was going to be behind bars for a long time. During the fight people could tell izuku was letting out pent up steam on the villain, he could've killed him. He was sure of it, everyone was. He had be pulled off in order for him to stop. You were hurt and his daughter could've gotten hurt. Izuku felt the villain deserved far much worse than to be behind bars. But at least he was rotting.
Izuku went to see you in the hospital, waiting for hours on end, pacing back and forth a million things on his mind. His daughter had been released a while ago, she was fine apart from the smoke inhalation. He couldn't believe she didn't have a single scratch on her, but he was glad and very much thankful. She sat in the nearest seat taking it easy, watching izuku pace around before finally, some news..
“ mr midoriya— ”
“ what- what's going on is my wife okay?! what's the problem, can I go and see her?? ”
“ I uhm... ahem. I'm afraid I have some bad news.. Mr midoriya. ”
Izukus expression fell, his eyes widened yet his face was completely blank. His heart dropped and completely shattered at the words the doctor said to him. His daughter immediately broke down. Tears were brimming in his eyes, he was borderline shaking in his red boots. He felt bile rising in his throat, the burning sensation making tears fall. They fell and never stopped. He held his daughter close that night. Never letting her go. He was afraid if he did... She might leave him.
....
“ I see. and how does that make you feel?”
“ ... are you seriously asking me how my dead wife makes me fucking feel. ”
“ yes. It's been 9 years, you've retired from hero work and have been seeing me for quite some time yet we never seem to talk about her. ”
Fuck... 9 years had completely flown by him. He hadn't even realized.. you'd been gone for 9 years....
“ I... I.. ”
“ your daughter will be a freshman at UA this year, correct? How does that make you feel? Have you checked in with your daughter? Have you asked how she's been? How has she coped with her mother's death? ”
Izuku was speechless. 9 years had passed, he can't seem to remember much and his daughter.. the last piece of you he has, is starting school at the very high school you two met at. Where did the time go...
AN: I'm not good at angst if you can't tell, this is a shite ending and uhm I've been feeling like shit so I hope this makes you feel shitty, but in like a good way yk? I want you to feel so hurt and sad that it makes you think 'wow.. this is some good shit right here.'
#cvnts-post#mha#mha x reader#boku no hero academia#deku x reader#izuku x reader#cvnts-reqs#izukus not so girlie pop#mha angst#mha x reader angst#izuku midoriya#izuku angst#midoriya angst#izuku midroiya angst#izuku midoriya x reader angst#midoriya#midroiya x reader angst#izuku x reader angst#midoriya izuku#midoriya izuku angst#midoriya izuku x reader angst#pro hero!deku#pro hero deku#deku angst#deku x reader angst
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O, adorkastock, have you any references with striking lighting or shadows? I would love to practice my shadows and lighting.
Mmmm not a ton since I shoot in the studio and I don't change the lights because I actually don't really know how to use a camera so changing the lights would mess up the camera 🥹 I have some orb pics that are fun but not super high res because lowlight and phone cam. And some stuff I've done with lanterns. Here's a few? Like this? I want to do more with lighting but I'm just not especially skilled in this area.
Happy accident but the old Bending Pack had some neat lighting.
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