#yes there are concerns about pollution | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

andypantsx3 · 4 months

Text

SOMETHING IN THE WATER | 6 | SHOUTO x READER

SUMMARY: As a future marine biologist, you’ve scored big on your final internship: a summer in the tropics, researching the waters off the coast of a lush, sunny island. But what you thought would be all beach days and piña coladas turns out to be the revelation of a lifetime when you haul in a handsome merprince, and discover not everything in these waters is quite as it seems. TAGS/WARNINGS: mermaid au, interspecies relationships, mating rituals/courting behavior, (sort of) case fic, aged up characters, eventual smut, fem pronouns/afab reader LENGTH: 3.7k of est. 27k, 6th of 8 chapters

Shouto was waiting on the shore when you returned, mismatched gaze pinned on you as you stepped out of the trees. He seemed to know from your expression that you’d found exactly what you’d been looking for.

“It is what you wanted, then,” he said.

You could feel a grimace overtake your features. “Not what I wanted, exactly, but it is what I expected to find.”

A clawed hand reached out to catch your ankle as you stepped out of the shade onto the hot sand. You could see the impression of Shouto’s tail in the sand where he’d dragged himself from the water, a thick line of disturbed beach. He peered up at you, thumb pressing into the hollow behind your ankle bone.

“They’re polluting this place and they’re trying to hide it,” you said, your mouth pulling into a thin line. “They’ve dammed off that lagoon for now but it’s not going to hold forever. And they’ve already killed off everything in it.”

Shouto’s claws rasped lightly over the skin of your ankle. “You are upset.”

You glanced down at him, finding his handsome face concerned. “I’m—angry, I guess, yeah. Especially now that I know you and your whole pod are here. It’s bad enough thinking of what this is going to do to all the local populations, but to think of you getting sick…”

Shouto’s long eyelashes fluttered as he took a slow breath. You carefully studied the sand next to him so you didn’t watch the way the muscles of his chest flexed and relaxed as he did so. “You want to protect me,” he concluded, something strange in his tone.

Your face flushed hot. “Well, yeah.”

Shouto’s expression went carefully blank, like he was trying not to look too pleased. Instead, he reached out a hand, taking yours, prying it open to reveal the sample kit containing a bleached chunk of coral you’d cut off the poisoned reef. “And you will keep the coral I gave you,” Shouto said.

You nodded, blinking in surprise. In your momentary funk you’d almost forgotten the underlying reason for your visit here—Shouto had given you something that would have taken him hours to get. Something he’d have had to pull himself through the forest on his arms alone for, something he too would have had to have waded into a poisoned reef for—and that had to mean something significant.

You doubted it was a token of friendship, as you’d first assumed. But then—what would be the cultural significance of the gift?

Shouto’s thumb petted over the hollow of your ankle bone again. “And you will wear them.”

You nodded absently, suppressing a shiver at the feeling of his touch.

“Yes, when I get back to my room I’ll scrounge up something to wear them on,” you promised.

Shouto’s expression shifted into something satisfied. “With dinner and a movie,” he said.

You stared at him. “You want—right now?”

“Right now,” he echoed, nodding seriously. His features rearranged themselves into a mask of determination.

You laughed at the expression, like a movie was some great hurdle to overcome, some life-or-death mission.

Well, you supposed a promise was a promise. And it was nearing dinner time.

Your mind instantly began to churn with plans. You’d have to dock the boat and beg off the meal with the science crew, figure out when and how to tell them about the poisoned lagoon, find a meal somewhere that Shouto could digest, meet him back at the beach, steal a wheelbarrow, and figure out how not to get caught.

“Alright, a deal’s a deal,” you decided.

An almost triumphant smile teased at the edge of Shouto’s mouth.

His hand left your ankle and he followed you back across the sand down to the water, slithering agiley like a handsome snake. He supervised you as you stuffed all your things back into your dry bag, then slipped into the water, keeping pace alongside you as you swam out to where you’d anchored the boat.

He pulled himself in after you, and boated most of the way back to the dock with you. He only slid back into the water when you shooed him off just out of sight of the port, promising to meet him back on the beach in front of the inn.

You docked the boat in town, then poked through a couple take-away food stalls for something that seemed like it wouldn’t mess with Shouto’s digestion. Stifling a wry grin, you settled on a sushi vendor, picking out a few basic rolls with local fish and a seaweed salad that you and Shouto could split.

You trekked back to the inn, stowing your food in your room, then poking your head into Yu’s room to let her know you’d finished up on the water, but weren’t feeling well and were going to sit out dinner.

Once you’d also verified Izuku was nowhere to be seen and that Inko was safely installed in the front office, you crept over to the maintenance shed. The door was unlatched—probably a product of living on such a small island with little crime—and you helped yourself to the wheelbarrow and an ancient tarp wedged underneath several old planters.

Shouto was waiting for you just off the beach, that head of red and white pair poking out of the water inquisitively as you approached. He eyed the wheelbarrow with suspicion, even as he hauled himself up on shore.

“What is that,” he asked, flatter than a question.

“Your chariot awaits, good sir,” you joked, gesturing at it.

A red eyebrow went up, Shouto’s mismatched gaze pinning on it with distrust. “I do not think I like chariots.”

You laughed. “It’s actually called a wheelbarrow—it’s used to haul heavy stuff. And you most definitely qualify as heavy stuff. I’m not strong enough to carry you all the way back to my room.”

Shouto’s eyes slid over the muscle of your arm assessingly. “Humans,” he murmured, almost to himself. “You cannot swim, fight, or lift things. It is a wonder you survive at all.”

You poked him with a sneakered toe. “Hey, I can too swim and lift things.”

Shouto’s pointed non-reply was answer enough and you huffed out a laugh.

“I will do it for you,” Shouto decided. “The swimming and fighting and lifting.”

For some reason this made you flush. “I—there will be no fighting on my watch.”

Shouto’s mouth quirked. In lieu of another answer he reached out an arm, gripping the side of the wheelbarrow. Your mouth went a little dry as you watched the muscles in his arm activate, and you just barely remembered to hold the wheelbarrow steady as he pulled himself in, biceps cording.

He was far too large for it, the bulk of his muscle and broad shoulders taking up nearly the entire thing, leaving his tail to drape out and drag along the sand. There was no way the tarp was going to cover enough of him.

“Okay, let’s wrap this around your tail, at least, in case anyone sees us,” you decided, spreading it out over his waist like a blanket. He looked a little goofy, and possibly a million percent more suspicious with the tarp dragging after him on the ground, but it was the best you were going to get, probably.

“So how long can you last out of salt water, do you know?” you asked, wheeling him around and heading up the beach. You figured it had to be a couple hours considering how long it must have taken him to reach the coral he’d given you, but you hated the thought of him getting uncomfortable.

“A long time. Close to a day I think,” he said.

“Wow, and you don’t dry out?” you asked.

He tipped his head back to look at you as you wheeled him, wet hair dripping into the wheelbarrow. “I do, but it takes some time.”

“And you’re not uncomfortable?” you grunted out the question, shoving him up the incline towards your room.

“Not for a long while,” he said.

Well that was good. You probably wouldn’t need to set him up in the tub then. It would be nice to eat your sushi somewhere other than the bathroom.

You were panting by the time you got Shouto up the hill, and it was an even larger production getting him through the door. It was only when you finally wheeled him inside, watching him peer around your room curiously, that you realized your seating options were limited. You were possessed of a single chair, currently occupied by your suitcase—and Shouto was far too large for it besides.

Something flipped in your stomach as your eyes were drawn towards your bed.

Like he could sense your sudden hesitance, Shouto turned to you, mismatched gaze pinning on you with a startling focus.

“You are nervous,” he observed.

You could feel your face heat. “Well I don’t exactly wheel mermen back to my room every day of the week.”

Shouto’s mouth pulled like he did not like the image of that. He grasped the sides of the wheelbarrow with clawed fingers, hefting himself out and slithering to your floor. You stared at the sight of him perched there on the rug, eyebrows lifting when he reached out a hand and drew your sitting chair towards him.

Instead of climbing in, however, he flipped open the top of your suitcase, peering in curiously.

You watched him flip a book over then ease it aside, rifling through your bag of clean socks and shorts. You sputtered when Shouto’s long fingers unearthed a bra, his head tilting.

“Nosy!” you squeaked, darting forward to throw your suitcase shut again. You didn’t know why you were so embarrassed, but you desperately hoped merpeople did not know the difference between swimwear and underthings.

Shouto’s frown was almost too cute to be borne. He looked up at you, his hand going to your ankle, as it always did.

“You do not have anything to bind the coral with,” he said, sounding a little pouty again.

Oh. So that’s what he’d been looking for.

You nudged his other hand aside, unzipping the pocket where you’d stored a few pieces of jewelry. You hadn’t brought many on the assumption that you’d mostly be working, but you’d brought enough to be useful. Shouto watched with some interest as you unclipped the chain of a necklace, sliding off the charm and storing it in your bag again.

His eyes followed you as you stepped away to your nightstand, where you’d stowed the coral he’d brought you. Immediately, you realized there was a problem.

“Uh, we might have to wait a couple more days until I can find a way to put a hole in these,” you said, gesturing with the pieces.

Shouto’s heavy tail made a scraping sound as he dragged himself across the carpet to you again. You plopped down on the edge of the bed so as not to tower over him, holding out the coral to him. Shouto angled his claws carefully away from your palm as he took a shard in his long fingers, the bleached white of it standing out starkly against the crimson of his coloring there.

Shouto’s handsome face stilled in careful concentration as he angled his pinky claw carefully, so that just the point of it pressed to a corner of the piece. You watched in fascination as he pressed down, and his claw bore right through—piercing it shockingly easily.

Your stomach flipped, and you recalled the first time you’d seen Shouto—how deadly those claws had seemed. Weeks into your friendship, you’d realized you’d been so focused on his most human of qualities—his beautiful face, inadvertently funny manner, his sweet thoughtfulness. But here was a reminder that he was also something far more than a man—possibly one of the most dangerous things in these waters.

Your heart beat a little faster as Shouto did the same to the next piece of coral, and you looped the necklace chain through them. There was a sort of dark, satisfied look in Shouto’s eye as you clasped it around your neck. A clawed finger gently touched your sternum, lifting the coral for Shouto’s inspection.

“Good,” he rumbled, looking pleased. His finger was warm against your skin, and you wondered if he could feel how quickly your heart was beating against it.

For some reason you felt your face warm. You stilled under Shouto’s touch until he let the coral drop back against your skin, seeming gratified.

Clearing your throat, you quickly rose from the bed, gesturing Shouto onto it.

“I’ll, um, grab our food,” you told him, hoping you sounded normal. “And get my laptop to pick out the movie. Just, uh, make yourself comfortable.”

You pointedly did not watch as Shouto levered himself up on the strength of those arms, instead unearthing the sushi from your room’s miniscule fridge, along with two bottles of water. You piled it all on your laptop like a tray, then turned back to Shouto.

He was far too large for your bed, laid out across it like a sunbathing model. His tail was far too long, draping off the end in a sweeping fan of scarlet and white. Your eyes traced the line of his tail back up the bed, up to where the scales freckled into the taught muscle of Shouto’s abdomen, fair skin all but glowing in the fading summer daylight, the shadows swirling and pooling in the divots of the muscle like water.

You flushed again at the sight of all of that laid out in your bed, waiting for you. You reminded yourself that he did not have the cultural context you did for sharing a bed, and that you were just splitting food. And he was another species, besides, no matter how human his upper half looked.

You very deliberately did not think about the fact that his sister had a human husband.

Shouto wriggled back against the headboard as you approached, and you clambered in next to him, careful not to brush his arm as you did. You set the sushi between you like a shield, then flipped open your laptop, wondering what kind of movie a merman might like.

“Um, got any requests?” you asked him.

Shouto’s mismatched eyes pinned on you. “I want to watch whatever you want to watch.”

Well that was no help. You wracked your brain for options, blinking when you remembered you’d told Shouto that he’d probably find human movies about merpeople funny. An idea formed.

Shouto watched with interest as your fingers clacked across the keys, alternately watching the movement of them and the windows that appeared across the screen. The island wi-fi was slow, and it took a few painful minutes, but eventually you ended up with a title screen queued up: The Little Mermaid.

You looked at Shouto for approval, only to find his eyes searching over the screen, as if for some clue of what was to come. Oh—that was right—he might have been able to speak to you, but chances were probably slim he could read any human languages.

“It’s an animated film about, uh, this mermaid who strikes a deal to be human and live on land,” you explained. “She, um, falls in love with a prince and they, uh, sort of fight to be together.”

Shouto’s mismatched eyes picked over you speculatively. “A human fights? I thought you were not capable.”

You rolled your eyes. “Well he mostly steers a boat around. But he does help try to defeat a sea witch.”

Shouto eyed you. “There is no such thing.”

A startled laugh burst out of you at the look of suspicion on his face. It was patently ridiculous that a merman was propped up in your bed telling you what was and wasn’t real.

“It’s fiction,” you told him. “People also think merpeople aren’t real, as you well know.”

Shouto looked doubtful, but you pressed play on your laptop anyway. You deposited his sushi in his lap, then hesitated over whether to hand him chopsticks too. As you watched him draw one long claw across the plastic cover, slicing it open instead of just uncapping it, you decided no. He most definitely would not be needing a pair of chopsticks.

Shouto seemed to like his plain rolls, all of the ingredients except the rice ocean-based. You watched his handsome nose flare suspiciously at your own rolls when you opened your container, shooting a look of obvious distaste at the spicy mayo drizzled over the top of one.

You had to hide another smile, strangely charmed by everything about him.

Shouto also was quickly absorbed by the movie, and did not notice when you plucked his empty container from his lap. He seemed to find it equal parts amusing and ridiculous. It was only when Ariel and Prince Eric almost kissed in the boat that you felt Shouto’s eyes on you. You stared resolutely ahead, pretending not to notice, your skin prickling.

He was distracted again by the rest of the film, even leaning forward with interest during the climax. But his eyes wandered your way again when Ariel and Eric finally kissed, and you looked up reflexively, face heating when his was closer than you had expected.

“Uhhh,” you said, stupidly. “Did you… like it?”

“Yes,” Shouto replied. Outside, the sun was sinking, and it cast Shouto’s face in an orange glow, the blue light of your laptop refracting strangely off his eyes.

Your breath quickened, for some unfathomable reason.

You jumped when warm fingers met the skin of your sternum again, and you heard the chips of coral click as they were lifted. Shouto’s eyes dipped to them, then back up to your face, dragging over it slowly.

“You said there were no other mating rituals, correct?” Shouto said.

You startled under his touch, brain functions freezing up at the mention of mating. What—mating rituals? And what did he mean other?

“Mating rituals?” you echoed, trying to keep your voice from coming out strangled.

Shouto nodded. “You said jewelry is often given. And dinner and a movie. But I believe you said there were no other common practices across cultures.”

You blinked, mind whirring with the implication that Shouto thought dinner and a movie was a mating ritual and yet had engaged in such a thing with you. And as for jewelry… you felt one of Shouto’s claws drag delicately over the skin just under your neck as he thumbed across the pieces of coral.

A sudden suspicion formed in your brain, illuminating your synapses like a light had just been snapped on. A million other things Shouto had said about fighting and hunting and protection suddenly felt like they made a terrible sort of sense to you. You stared back at Shouto, mouth dropping open.

No. There was no way.

“Shouto,” you said, your voice shooting embarrassingly high. It was ridiculous to even ask the question, and yet… “Are you—did you ask for dinner and a movie as a date?”

Shouto inclined his head. His hair had mostly dried, and it looked soft and silky in the orange light from the sun. You fought down the sudden urge to reach out and touch it.

“Dates are mating practices, are they not?” he murmured.

A hand pressed down next to your hip, titling you a little towards him with the dip of the mattress. Your heart beat fluttered, the skin at your hip prickling.

“But you—but there’s—but we didn’t—but you—” you fumbled, blinking flusteredly. The air in your room suddenly felt about a million degrees warmer, almost suffocatingly hot. Shouto tilted his head, then pressed the backs of his fingers to your cheek, as if testing your temperature.

“Are you well?” he asked.

Were you well. Were you well?

A literal fairytale creature, a prince of fairytale creatures, was sitting in your bed, having all but just admitted to engaging in mating rituals with you, and here he was asking if you were well!

You made a noise somewhere between the moo of a cow and a goose honk, and Shouto’s fingers shifted against your skin.

“How is it that you conclude the mating ritual?” he asked, watching you carefully. “If it is successful and my suit is accepted?”

His suit. His suit! Like he was courting you!

Dear god what had you been getting yourself into. And why did every single inch of your skin feel like it was on fire, especially when Shouto leaned closer?

“When they—in the movie when they pressed their mouths together,” you stammered. “You must know it from your sister having a human husband—it’s called kissing.”

Shouto’s fingers moved across your skin, until he was cupping your face in one large palm. Your breath froze entirely in your lungs. This close, his face was somehow even more perfect, and you were entirely robbed of higher brain function, gawking at him like he was an animal in a zoo.

Shouto was near enough that you could feel the exhalation of his next words on your mouth. “I would like do it, this kissing,” he said, tone slow and rolling. “That is if you accept me. If you acknowledge we are mates.”

You couldn’t really think past the feeling of his hand on your face, the way his claws rasped so sweetly over the skin behind your ear. He was so warm and so close and so stupidly, mind-numbingly handsome, and the low, gentle way he spoke to you sounded like the sea, a rumble of waves you wanted to sink beneath.

You opened your mouth to ask him to repeat the question, as your processing power was suddenly at zero percent.

But then Shouto shifted on the bed, the weight of his hand tipping you even further towards him. You felt yourself losing a little balance, falling, a hand pressing against his naked chest to catch yourself—

—And then Shouto’s mouth caught yours, and you forgot to feel anything else at all.

#todoroki x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #shouto x reader #shoto x reader #shoto x y/n #todoroki x you #todoroki x y/n #shouto todoroki x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #bnha x reader #andie's writing

728 notes · View notes

harmonysanreads · 4 months

Note

Sumeru love hexagons Yandere Alhaitham this Yandere Alhaitham that but what about Yan Tighnari... that man would act as if he's the most reliable and trustworthy person you know then use his nature and plant knowledge to his advantage, manipulate you into opening up over some 'calming herbal tea' and then sigh and say he does understand how exhausting it is to work in a busy tavern especially with all those troublesome people that you have to deal with daily, he'll tell you exhaustion can actually cause you to feel a little unsafe and on severe cases like someones watching you, but oh, dont you worry, he knows just what can help you and ease your worries, maybe if you stay a little bit more he will tell you more of this 'magic exilir' of his. <3

Ahh yes, Tighnari.

The responsible Forest Watcher who does not mince his words, a little condescending sometimes but people can agree that he means well — unless they have twigs for brains, that is. Whatever others' opinion of him maybe, his expertise in biology is unrivaled in Sumeru ; this, no one can deny. He knows the forest keenly and can utilize that knowledge seamlessly, if he so desires.

His care is akin to that of a cautious parent's and with Collei as an example, no one can call him heartless, at least. Indeed, in the broader sense he's a trustworthy individual, far more than a stoic Scribe whose intentions are hard to pinpoint without the help of time and effort. Tighnari appears to be far simpler and he presents himself with sympathy — something a drained you could really find comforting.

And oh, it feels so good to finally not be a listener as you share your innermost paranoia ; the seemingly perpetual lingering gazes, the stolen sense of privacy, the strange tension that engulfs the room when you are present and the increasing count of citizens you were somewhat acquainted with disappearing. The first private chat with the Forest Watcher felt unbelievably relieving, the headache that had threatened to crack your skull for a few days was miraculously soothed by the incense he'd lit and the concoctions he'd recommended.

Tighnari assured you that your concerns were just results of excessive stress, perhaps you should take a few days off from the Tavern? Oh, your headaches seems to only get worse? Why don't you stay in Gandharva Ville for a while? The pollution free ambiance might just be the remedy. Besides, you did feel better the last time you were here, didn't you?

And after a while of this charade, that becomes the issue precisely. The only times you don't feel like you're going to collapse is when you're with Tighnari. A new suspicion leers at the back of your mind but you can't quite bring yourself to verify it. It might be that you're afraid of betrayal or, that it doesn't quite make sense, because, why would he?

Well, you're not going to find the answer to that question quite appealing, if you were to dig in.

#sumeru love hexagon #yandere #yandere genshin impact #yandere tighnari #yandere tighnari x reader #tighnari x reader #tighnari x you #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #yandere imagines

219 notes · View notes

sl-vega · 1 month

Text

♫ 8.5; ↠ ENEMIES TO ???

↳ my heart beats for you-a scaramouche smau

Off key chords. Employees running around the live house holding speakers, cables, mic stands and several other appliances that Scaramouche managed recognize from his years of playing with 5WIRL.

It was nice, the atmosphere that the place radiated all the time. It was familiar, cozy, safe. He had grown quite fond of it. It felt like home to him.

Well, more like how he assumed other's would describe their home, his house life was practically worlds apart from the bliss that Favonius gave to him.

So, perhaps home wasn't the right word to describe the place. Haven, yes, a safe haven for him, that was a much better term. A get away, a paradise that he could always go to, but never quite own. Company that he could always count on but never keep.

Such thoughts always plagued his conscious when left to his own devices without interruption. Happiness was present in the moment yet his own thinking seemed to pollute the so-called joy he was supposed to be lavishing in, the joy he should have been savouring.

Because one day, it would all be gone.

One day, they'd all leave, out of sight, yet fresh in his mind.

One day, he'd be alone again.

Suddenly Scaramouche felt a familiar hand on his shoulder, bringing him back to the current scene. Friendly deep gold eyes met his dead indigo one's.

Aether.

Right, he was in the live house, surrounded by his bandmates. Not alone. He had company. He had other's to spend time with. He had friends.

"Hey."

He simply said, nonchalantly, though he spared Aether from the usual glare that sat on his grumpy, albeit gentle, face.

"You good? You were staring off into space again."

Aether gave him a quizzical and concerned look, they have had this conversation countless times. Always the same scenario, always the same response between the two.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

Lies.

His friend didn't look convinced. He never did. Yet he never pushed it further than that, Scaramouche liked that about Aether, he knew that insisting that he wasn't okay would only make him feel worse. Aether's expression quickly shifted into a gentle smile, clearly fake, clearly strained.

"I'm gonna go on a snack run, wanna come with?"

The blonde asked, gesturing to the front door of the live house.

"Aren't you supposed to be doing a soundcheck with Sucrose and Mika?"

Scaramouche deadpanned in response. He loved spending one on one time with Aether, he really did, but he didn't want to screw up tonight just because of that.

"Nah don't worry about it, Xiao told me he'd do the rest of the checks with them."

Aether explained, of course Xiao agreed to do it for him, the guy basically followed him around like a dog, not to mention acted like one. Scaramouche supposed he admired the dedication. He'd make a good boyfriend for someone if he wasn't so attached to Aether.

"Fine."

He muttered in response. On the inside, he was practically jumping for joy though.

Aether led the two of them out the door, and they headed to the local convenience store using the all too familiar route that Scaramouche had memorized from his time spent with the band.

They finally arrived at the store itself, Aether opening the door for Scaramouche, allowing him to head inside first.

"Ever the gentleman I see."

"You know it."

After him, Aether shortly followed, allowing the door to gently swing shut as the soft cling of the door chimes sounded and rang throughout the shop.

A brief intermission of silence shortly followed after the two began to examine the shelves for snacks. Aether gently pushing boxes and bags aside while Scaramouche had settled for rummaging through the aisles. He always made sure to put everything back in it's place though. He wasn't that much of a jackass.

Him and Aether eventually reconvened at the candy aisle together. Scaramouche holding two bags of chips for himself, and Aether holding a small basket full of snacks.

The began browsing the sweets section together, and thankfully, Aether broke the silence.

"So, other than her, did ya' invite anyone else?"

Aether asked him, back turned as he checked the price tag for some chocolate bar.

Scaramouche didn't know how to feel about the fact the he immediately knew that Aether was talking about you, even if he didn't mention your name.

He shrugged, picking up some dark chocolate in the process. "Yeah I only directly invited her, but she probably asked your sister to come or somethin'..."

He placed the bitter candy back on the shelf. He didn't care much for candy, even if some fit his flavour profile.

"Why did you invite her anyways?" Aether inquired.

"Cuz you told me I should."

He replied, without missing a beat. He seemed to repeat the same mantra over and over. Yeah, he's only doing this for Aether, he's doing this for Aether, for the sake of his friend.

That's all.

"I told you to try being nicer to her, not invite her to one of our gigs."

His friend turned around to face him, smirking.

"I've never seen you put this much effort into someone you claim to 'hate' Scara~ Maybe you care more than your willing to let on."

He teased, playfully poking his shoulder. Scaramouche simply let out a dry chuckle and swatted Aether's hand away.

"Yeah right..."

Sure, maybe he didn't hate you, maybe he never even disliked you in the first place, but it wasn't like he liked you, or was fond of you by any means. And he certainly wasn't in love-

He wasn't.

He couldn't.

At most he admired you as a musician. He'd never say it out loud, but he certainly admired you.

Admiration and actually having feelings for someone are two completely different things that way too many people confuse for one another.

"Well I'm gonna go pay for everything now, you can wait for me outside, I'll be there in a sec."

"Hm? Oh, yeah thanks..."

Scaramouche handed Aether his snacks and some cash that would cover the stuff he wanted before promptly turning his heel and exiting the store.

Why was he even thinking about this right now? Why was he even thinking about you right now.

Sure, he'd been following your musical career for longer than he'd like to admit, and part of him envied the passion you had for the art. But that didn't mean he had to like you in that sense.

Liking you in that sense would make things weird. You made it abundantly clear that you disliked him. You were stubborn, and brash, and incredibly irritating.

Liking you in that sense meant that things between him and Aether would be weird. And that was the last thing that he wanted.

Hurting Aether was the last thing he wanted.

"Scara! I finished paying for everything-"

His friend placed his hand on his shoulder once more, causing him to flinch, clearly catching Aether off guard.

"You good?-"

"I'm fine. Really. You just started me a bit."

Scaramouche insisted, lifting the blonde's hand off him, and taking the plastic bag full of their purchases from Aether's arms and into his own.

"We're heading back now yeah?"

He tilted his head in the direction of Favonius, taking a few steps forward as he waited for Aether to scurry along.

"Yeah! Thanks for coming with me Scara."

"No problem."

He wasn't gonna hurt Aether, no matter how he felt about you.

But surely, getting just a little bit closer to you wouldn't hurt anyone,

...Right?

additional notes:

denial is a river in egypt for $400

also if you thought you saw a different chapter instead

you are sorely mistaken

idk what you're talking about :D

ALSO HEAR ME OUT

y/n is Alexander, and scara and aether are eliza/Angelica (those roles are interchangeable between the two of them tbh)

anyways ty again for reading!

love y'all <3

masterlist

MY HEART BEATS FOR YOU

Pairing: [BASSIST!] Scaramouche x [GUITARIST!] Reader

Genre: rivals/enemies to lovers, rivals to friends to lovers, fluff, crack (?), comedy, angst (?), slowburn, high school au, band au, modern au, social media au, smau

Synopsis: You're the lead guitarist for your band, C✧LESTIA and Scaramouche is the bassist of 5WIRL. The two of your bands have a friendly rivalry, but you and Scaramouche don't. On top of being academic rivals, you and him have never been on good terms. Always one-upping each other in grades and in music. Even your bandmates have grown tired of your constant bickering with each other. But when your usual practice hub gets flooded, you and the rest of C✧LESTIA are forced to find a new place to rehearse. So when 5WIRL offers to share their studio with you who are you to refuse? Of course, this forces you to spend time with your sworn rival whether you like it or not. But maybe the two of you can overcome your differences and actually be friends?

Or maybe even more?

(CLOSED) TAGLIST: @featuredtofu @levianamor @danfelions, @thatoneswordgirl, @lolmeowing, @bananasquash, @xiaosantenna, @twilightclouds, @kaitfae, @mujiwuji, @zestyseggsydaddy69, @peaceindreams, @freyao7, @rinquin, @justpeachyteastea, @seafumes, @b2ne, @skyoverkill1, @scaradooche, @morallyrainyday, @adres-tia, @justadvena6, @agaygothicmushroom, @aiher, @seaofdata, @kyon-cherri, @aether-darling, @ukinya, @sketcheeee, @ibawa, @shutingstar, @eutopiastar, @kunimix, @wonderful-worlds, @ectomotive, @yourfavoritefreakyhan, @b4tm4nn, @animegirl-12s-world, @h3xi2g0n3, @lalaloveallmydays, @st4xs-3, @valentinasgirly, @kazuieee, @hikoiaa, @princess-peachys, @feikyuu, @dainsleif-when-playable, @animeobsessed56, @useless-potahto

#scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche #scaramouche smau #wanderer x reader #wanderer x you #wanderer x y/n #wanderer #wanderer smau #hat guy #aether #5wirl #6reeze

85 notes · View notes

hotgirlmav · 2 years

Text

Best Behavior — Tom 'Iceman' Kazansky x Reader

Pairing: Tom ‘Iceman’ Kazansky x Female!Reader (18+)

Description: Iceman has never been known as one to lose his temper. Secure in every single thing in his life, you, his girlfriend, happened to be no exception. During a night out at the bar, he witnesses a man with an ego almost as big as his try to flirt with you. Naturally, he contemplates murder.

Warnings: Explicit language, unwanted flirting, alcohol, an abundance of dirty talk, allusions to smut, minor humiliation and degradation kink, severely possessive Iceman, teeny Slider and Maverick cameo. Teehee.

Word Count: 3,146.

A/N: My very first request!!! Possessive Iceman will be the death of me, I fear. 🫡

Requests are still open!

With the sound of the car coming to a complete stop in a parking spot that might as well have belonged to Tom Kazansky, you knew you had officially arrived at The Officers Club.

It was a typical Friday night. The sun had just finished setting, and the sound of chatter from inside the club began to fill your ears. At that point in time, the sound of glasses clinking and the faint music playing felt like a mere familiar tune. With how frequently you attended that bar with your boyfriend, anyone else in your position would have gotten sick of such a sight and sound. You, on the other hand, couldn’t have gotten enough of it. You would have endured the most shrill noise pollution and the blinding lights if it meant that you could spend a night out with Tom. With how engulfed he was by work recently, you felt as though you were in no position to complain about time you could be spending with him.

Just as your right hand found the handle of the car door, you felt his large hand practically blanket over your left hand, causing you to turn your head to look at him.

Now, that— that was a sight you couldn’t get enough of.

His full lips were parted in a way that authentically conveyed his comfort, yet the look in his green eyes told you just how serious he was. The way you could see his body already tense at the realization that he was about to be in public mesmerized you. You loved Iceman for many things, and it was incredibly safe to say that his looks weren’t low on that list. His heart held a warmth that you had never known and his personality had you hooked from the moment you two first locked eyes, yes, but that face? That body? Forget it.

Had he not spoken in the next few seconds, you would have probably begun to drool.

“You know what I’m about to say.” He softly stated, earning a soft grin from you as you nodded your head. The sight of your smile was enough for him to return one, his thumb stroking over your knuckle for a moment. He brought your hand to his lips and pressed a light kiss to your skin, nodding his head. He set it down in an instant and pushed his aviators down onto his face, getting out of the car. Before you could even think about getting out, he was opening the door for you.

Of course you knew what he was about to say. To be quite fair, you two were there almost every Friday, so it’d be more concerning if you hadn’t.

He would usually go on a rant that lasted no longer than ten minutes, but no less than five. He would diligently inform you of just how attractive you were and how he wouldn’t be the first nor the last naval aviator to think so. While he knew his friends and colleagues were not stupid enough to cross him in such a manner, he was a man, and he knew how men tend to think. The very last thing he wanted to think about was you being the subject of any desires that weren’t his own.

Despite him not wanting you to heed his warnings about anyone else, you were his main priority. Your comfort remained the first and most important thing in his mind, which he always made a point of telling you. If at any point you found yourself uncomfortable, you were to tell him and he would rectify the situation. If anyone in particular was making you uncomfortable, he would handle them before anyone else had time to think. If it was all just too much and you were no longer having fun, he would drop everything and you two would go home. He preferred for you to stay close to him throughout the night, and that is something he made very clear to you. He didn’t like it when you wandered out of his sight. Unbeknownst to him, that was something you did when you wanted to feel that relief of finding you later on.

Iceman wasn’t controlling by any means, though. You understood that he was just very protective, and in a way, you were too. If a woman approached him at the bar, he would almost count the seconds until your hand was in his and a dirty look from you was shot her way. You wanted the world to know that he belonged to you, and that was absolutely no problem for him. Not when he wanted the world to know that you belonged to him.

With your hand in his, he was now leading you into the building, your fingers intertwined with his. He held the door for you like the gentleman he was, and in no time, you two joined your party.

After giving what felt like too many pilots small hugs and kisses on the cheek, you couldn’t help but grin at everyone around you. You knew that beneath his cool posterior and the enigma that was Iceman, there was Tom. Tom loved nothing more than being surrounded by his friends, being close to you, and flying. You truly were the only one who knew just how warm he was.

“I’ll be right back. I have to use the bathroom.” You found yourself whispering into Iceman’s ear, standing on the tips of your toes to do so.

In the process of ordering drinks for the pair of you, he simply nodded his head and turned his head to face you momentarily. Pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head, he turned his head back to the bartender.

Right when you turned to make your way to the restroom, you felt his hand grip your wrist just like it did in the car. Furrowing your eyebrows, you looked back at him.

“I’ll keep my eye on you.” He informed you as a form of comfort, seeing as he knew you were going alone.

You couldn’t help but giggle at his words, your eyebrows still furrowed. “Yes, Tom, I’m well aware.” You playfully responded, shaking your head.

Still, he didn’t let go of your hand.

His tongue briefly darted out of his mouth and returned once it wet his lips, followed by him taking a sharp breath. He inched a bit closer to you and tilted his head, slowly dipping it down. His lips were merely centimeters away from yours, causing your heart to stop and your breath to hitch in your throat. Even after how long you two had been dating, Iceman was no stranger when it came to taking your breath away.

“No funny business tonight.” He whispered, his cold minty breath hitting your lips in a way that made you refrain from opening your mouth. “I expect nothing less than your best behavior. You wouldn’t want me to have to bend you over in front of everyone and let the world know what a dirty little whore you are, would you?”

His words made your eyes momentarily widen as you bit the inside of your cheek to prevent an obnoxious giggle from coming out. Nevertheless, you had a cheeky smile plastered across your face as you turned your head, practically shying away from him. You contemplated just telling him you wanted to go home right then, not wanting anyone to know how worked up you were getting.

Noticing your reaction, Iceman chuckled under his breath and brought your hand to his lips once more, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckle. “Be careful.” He hummed to you, finally letting go of your hand.

Within the next few minutes, you were in and out of the bathroom. Your hair and makeup were freshly touched up, something you did every time you were privately in front of a mirror.

You noticed that your boyfriend was chatting away with Slider and Maverick, the drink he ordered for you in his free hand as he sipped his own. Just as you began to make your way over to him, you were stopped by a tall figure stepping in front of you.

“Excuse me.” He quickly stated after he saw you practically stumble at the way he cut you off, a charming smile on his face.

Your eyebrows were furrowed as you finally looked up at him. He was an attractive man, that was for certain.

However, he was no Tom Kazansky.

The man began to introduce himself as anyone would, not aiding your confusion in the slightest. Due to the fact that Iceman was in a conversation and the fact that the man had practically backed you into a corner, you decided to just fall prey to what you believed would be a brief conversation. You kindly introduced yourself in the way you would to anyone, still making sure to sound reserved.

“Can I buy you a drink, pretty girl?” He asked with a smirk that made your stomach turn in disgust. Still wanting to be nice, you gave him a soft grin and shook your head.

“No, no, that’s okay. My boyfriend actually has one for me; he’s over there.” You said lightly, pointing your index finger towards the distinguished pilot. The man turned his head and set his gaze on the man you were pointing at, causing him to chuckle.

“You’re here with one of those pilots?” He laughed out loud, looking back at you. He noticed the kind facade you had on your face disappear as you dully stared at him. You didn’t even give him the satisfaction of nodding.

He cleared his throat and took a deep breath, sipping the cheap beer that you now realize convinced him that he was hot shit.

“You’ll have to excuse me, sweetheart. My filter isn’t the best when I’m around pretty girls like you.” He continued his flirtation in what he thought to be a seductive tone, only making you resist the urge to scrunch your face up. It was embarrassing for him, truly. After saying such irritating words, he began to babble on, still leaving no room for you to go to your boyfriend.

Unbeknownst to you, Iceman had his eyes quite menacingly locked on the pair of you. From his angle, your poker face was far too good. He was convinced that you were interested in whatever the man was saying, and like the man he was, he could tell what the other man was thinking.

He felt his blood boil underneath his skin as he clenched his jaw once more. Had his aviators not been hiding his eyes, anyone would have seen just how viciously he was glaring at the man. Whatever the conversation was around him was now irrelevant, his focus solely on the piece of shit speaking to his girlfriend. His left cheek was slightly hollowed from the way his jaw was clenched and the way he had the inside of his cheek between his teeth. His grip on both glasses was beginning to tighten. His eyes were practically shut with how narrowed they were, his entire body tensing as he watched you fake a laugh at one of the man’s jokes. His thoughts and feelings had progressed far beyond his protective nature. This was anger. This was possession.

This was ownership.

Iceman knew that you were your own person and he knew that you were completely capable of handling your own. Had he not been so angry, he probably would have felt a bit guilty for thinking of you as his property. Knowing how you were, though, it would probably just turn you on. The thought of you began to ease his mind slightly, right up until he saw the man briefly grip your shoulder for balance after someone lightly bumped into him.

“All good, Ice?” Slider asked the man out of pure concern, noticing the way Iceman made no attempt to hide the fact that he was staring at you.

Being torn away from his murderous thoughts, Iceman sipped his drink once more and finally ripped his eyes away from the sight, nodding his head. It was only when he saw the man lean more towards you when he laughed that Iceman decided enough was enough.

With a dull glare and a clenched jaw, Iceman found himself gripping both glasses with an intensity that was seconds away from shattering them. Before such a thing could happen, he set them down on the countertop of the bar beside him, taking his aviators off of his face. Pushing them into his deep pocket, he sharply inhaled through his nose and began to saunter over.

To you, the reality of the situation was quite comical. You had no idea that both this man and Iceman thought you were even remotely enjoying the conversation, seeing as the truth was the complete opposite. Every time the man opened his mouth to speak, you heard the sound of television static. You essentially zoned out with your eyes on his face, faking a laugh and a nod whenever you saw fit.

You slightly flinched when you felt a large hand press against the small of your back, immediately zoning back in. Just when you were ready to shove whoever was touching you, your eyes landed on what you knew to be the annoyed face of your boyfriend.

You audibly sighed in relief and had a gentle little grin on your face, relaxing back into his touch. “This is my boyfriend, his name is Tom. Tom, this is—“

“Call me Iceman.” Iceman stated firmly to the man, his tone sending chills down your spine.

Like an idiot, the man laughed out loud and raised his eyebrows at the order. “Iceman?”

Neither you nor Iceman had even a slight grin on your faces. The man cleared his throat and licked his lips, taking another swig from his beer bottle. Once he swallowed, he spoke. “Alrighty, then. My name is—“

“It won’t come up again.” Iceman sharply cut him off, his cold posterior returning in a way that soothed your soul. Your heart was racing and you could feel your cheeks slightly begin to heat up, a tight-lipped grin on your face. Not even giving the man an opportunity to respond, you found yourself leading your painfully infuriated boyfriend to the deserted area in which he stood before. Slider and Maverick had joined the other pilots.

Once you two finally stood alone, he snatched at the opportunity to speak first.

“What was that?” The words fell from his lips in what was almost a whisper, clearly intended for your ears and your ears only. Due to the sound of music playing and chatter around the bar surrounding the pair of you, you were shocked at the fact that you could even hear him.

“What do you mean?” You questioned him with furrowed eyebrows, gazing up into his eyes. Part of you knew what he meant, but the part that answered him was the part that hoped he wasn’t mad at you for it.

For eyes that were such a warm shade of green, Tom Kazansky knew how to make them seem cold.

“Don’t do that.” He warned you lowly, your heart beginning to race at the lightness of his words. You found that the lighter he spoke, the more trouble you were in. “I’m going to ask you again. What was that?”

“How should I know, Tom?” You answered him in a hushed voice, shrugging your shoulders as you broke the intense eye contact. You looked down at your hands almost shyly, your head tilted to the side. “We were just talking.”

The very moment the words fell from your lips, you felt his thumb and index finger gently grip your chin, directing you to look up at him. Once you did so, your eyes found his like a moth to a flame.

“No, you were just talking. He was gawking.” He cooly remarked, noticing the way the corner of your lips twitched.

Immediately, his eyebrows knitted together in confusion. Funny? You found this funny? Out of all of the things he found this situation to be, funny certainly wasn’t one of them. The real reason you were fighting a grin was because you were incredibly excited by the way his hand felt on your skin, but he would never consider that. He thought you were treating the situation as a joke or that he was being punished for not keeping his attention on you. The thought fueled both his anger and his lust, both coming out in the way his grip on your chin tightened and the way his other hand found your waist.

“I tried to go to you, I told him you were waiting.” You softly told your boyfriend, aiding his anger profusely. Your head tilted as you slowly blinked, your smaller hands now on his chest. “I think he’s too drunk to care.”

Noticing the way his jaw was still clenched, you lifted off your hands and ran your fingertips over his cheek, gently caressing his cheekbone for a moment. After doing so, you ran the pad of your ring finger over the left side of his jaw, causing him to relax slightly.

“Are you jealous, Iceman?” You whispered with a pretty little smile, a flicker of hope in your eyes as you did so. The usage of his callsign made him smirk in a way that made your knees weak, his hand now traveling to your bare thigh. You knew wearing a sundress that was tight on the top but flowed at the bottom was an unbelievably spectacular idea.

“What the fuck do you think?” The words fell off of his lips smoothly, causing you to close your parted lips. You could feel his cold fingertips begin to trail up the back of your thigh, slightly lifting the fabric of your dress in the process.

He knew no one could see you, given the fact that he was practically towering over you. Nonetheless, he retracted his hand in the name of being careful in public, earning a small giggle from you. He could see the disappointment in your eyes once his hand left your skin.

“I don’t need to be, though. I know who that pretty little body of yours belongs to.” The man told you in the cockiest tone, your reaction only fueling his ego as a dark blush crept over your cheeks.

“I don’t know who it belongs to.” You softly told him, earning an amused look from him as he raised his eyebrows. The words you spoke right after earned another smirk that sent you in a whirlwind, causing you to practically feel him making up an excuse to leave.

“Why don’t you take me home and show me?”

2K notes · View notes

vamp1r1cjuggalo · 3 months

Note

Update about the downfall AU?? I love it already, so I must ask.😭

Hi hi! Yes yes! I’m really glad you like it!

So we do actually a lot of updates! I’ll start off with our status list and then dive into characters!

Status list

Toons:

Flippy: dead rip L

Lord Lowden Clear: Alive, the new mayor

Mata Hairy: Alive, doing well

Good Ol’ Gil Giggles: Alive

Bumpy Bumblebehr: Alive

Rain: Alive and well, chilling with William

Reid Stock: Alive

River: Alive

Barnacle Bessie: Alive

The elders: Alive, old as shit

Timmy: Alive

Rocky: Might be dead, possibly due to an encounter with an odd red cat lawbot

Vinny: Alive but injured, not critically however

Rhapsody: Alive

Moe Zart: Alive, heavily disgruntled

Rose: Alive

Reed: Alive

Coach Zucchini: Dead

Lil Oldman: Alive

Ridge: Alive

Mac Opsys: Alive

Winn Dos: Alive

Elvis Purrsly: Questionable

Ok yeah most of the toons R alive

Cogs:

William: Alive, but fired, bad condition

Buck R.: Alive-ish, stuck in a permafusion w/Dave

Brian: Alive, fired, with Mac and Winn

Alton: Alive

Mary: Alive, on the search for misty, left the company

Misty: Alive but missing

Winston: Alive, very bad condition but alive

Holly: Alive, trying to help finding misty

Prester: questionable

Ben: Alive, forced to stay in the company

Cathal: Alive, the current VP

Allan: Dead, they killed my wife

Belle: Alive

Dave: Alive-ish, stuck in a permafusion w/ Buck

Chris: Alive

Flint: Alive, in the mafia

Cosmo and the inventors: Alive, buisness is kinda going to shit, hence them trying to get more people into the family

The Litigation team: Chimeraed

CLO; Critical condition but alive

Spruce: Alive

Chip: Alive, stuck in override

Craig: Alive

Desmond: A lot better than William that’s for true, Alive

Buck Wilde: Alive

Dana: A bit fucked up mentally but she’s doing ok, propaganda machine

Tawney: Alive

Graham: Alive but kinda starting to not be great mentally and physically L

Thomas: Alive but doin shit mentally

Robert: Alive, doin shit mentally, desperately trying to stand ground

Now for character updates:

Rain and William

William and Rain end up partnering up, the two coming together to survive after William left the company, having to leave for his safety as his age and outdated shell and software led to him beginning to fall apart, not able to withstand battle.

Rain has taken on engineering, to keep him together as best as she can.

Flint Bonpyre

They join Pluto’s crew officially, mostly out of desperation for a bit more money since repairs and stuff have been more expensive as of late due to the rise in them as well as lack of resources

Elvis Purrsly

Looking a little more robotic then usual, but it was found out he is alive. Sort of.

Misty Monsoon

While alive she may be, no one can find them, they’ve gone missing. Though reports have shown heavy and rapid weather changes in certain areas around toontown.

Mary Anna

Mary quit COGS inc, due to both her heavy concerns for the pollution, how awful everything has been, and to make more time to search for Misty. She has been leading the search for a few months now, but no one has been able to find Misty.

And that’s all for now folks!

We do have high roller lore but I still need to draw her ack

But yeah! Here are some updates! Thank you for reading!

#toontown #toontown corporate clash #ttcc #TT downfall au #downfall au #rain toontown #derrick man #firestarter #elvis purrsly #rainmaker #deep diver #william boar #flint bonpyre #misty monsoon #mary anna #cw mention of death

40 notes · View notes

teacupofgooglyeyes · 1 year

Text

THE MAGNUS PROTOCOL. oh my GOD, the magnus protocol. (marginal spoilers up ahead for the tmp trailer + arg)

….i have a theory. its based on other possibly improbable theories but please indulge me as i connect the dots nobody else can see with red string and declare it a masterpiece.

WHAT IF…. something was trapped in the database? yes this is absolutely inspired by the theories bouncing around saying J.01 + M.01 are jon and martin- and possible J.02 is jonah. yes im going insane about it. yes i am distraught. BUT- what if its not just our silly little jarchivist and martin ‘knife crime’ blackwood trapped in the O.I.A.R. database? what if theres something that the O.I.A.R. takes ‘incident reports’ of to contain (and perhaps categorise) in encrypted files or the like in an attempt to rid the world of this something for good?

what if they had figured out a way to trap… the fears themselves in the database?

okokokok hear me out- it sounds insane but i promise i can provide evidence that proves with sufficient certainty that theres definitely SOMETHING (or someone) trapped in there. as to what that something is- i cant prove that for sure but i can absolutely try my darnedest! and whatever you choose to believe is up to you.

PROOF #1: THE ARG EMAILS

1. in the tmp arg, there was a small message at the end of every email. it read as follows: ‘In accordance with governmental guidelines we encourage you to consider the environmental impact before printing this email.’ All in all, this doesn’t seem too suspicious, right? Probably just rusty quill trying to be eco-friendly, right? right??

2. but that’s not all. in the middle of the environmental impact text in the first email sent, there is a section of random german text. it reads: ‘[NichtdurchkommenlassenEsistwichtigdasswirdieKontrollebehalten 🜶]’. this translates to: ‘Do not let (pronoun missing on purpose) come through. It is important that we remain in control 🜶’. Pairing the two makes it definitely seem like theres a reason for the O.I.A.R. to not want people printing things off of the internet that is absolutely connected to making sure certain things contained on internet in some way do not escape…

PROOF #2: THE TMP TRAILER

now that the arg has been solved, we now all have access to the tmp official trailer. i could rant about the contents of this trailer alone for HOURS but right now i just want to focus on a few specific details i noticed.

1. the epa pollution preventer. when the program is initiating, up in the top right corner there’s a logo for some company advertising anti-pollution… something. im mentioning this as this only furthers the strange obsession the O.I.A.R. has with protecting the environment, this incessant need to keep everything digital.

(SIDE NOTE: i have two other theories as to where this environmental obsession stems from:

1. paranoia from the archives burning down in this universe calls for the usage of any flammable items to record important data is STRICTLY forbidden!

2. the extinction has become the leading fear in this universe, prompting this very interesting concern for keeping eco-friendly.

these theories are enticing and i would love to expand on them later if i have the energy lol all these theories are rushing through my head and driving me even more insane.)

2. the files. THE FUCKING FILES!! yes, the ones that we are PRAYING contains our dearly beloved jon and martin (and probably jonah, but i doubt anyone else is as excited about that compared to the happy couple). this got me thinking- what if they trapped something ELSE in the files? something that maybe took the burning of the entire magnus institute, all those fears open and barely contained on paper, to contain digitally? something that maybe needs to be encrypted in files to keep it away, and to further contain it recordings of incident reports statements are made and also placed in the files archives? just saying. its a possibility.

PROOF #3: WHAT WE KNOW ABOUT JONNY

1. after listening to all the Q&As and extra content to recover from episode 200, i have LEARNT a few things. specifically, i know our good friend jonny sims loves creepypastas. fun fact- the actual s5 finale was itself inspired by creepypastas!

2. plus theres many episodes that do also have distinct creepypasta influences, one of which being mag 65: binary. this particular episode is about a fictional creepypasta/internet rumor about a man who placed himself and his sentience into a file on the internet that turns out to be true. internet horror stories often involved something trapped on the internet, interacting with users on the internet to attempt to escape or achieve whatever their goal may be. seems…. interesting. hmm. what if this sort of thing is influencing the podcast yet again? its a thought…..

IN CONCLUSION:

im insane. and-

#the magnus protocol #the magnus universe #the magnus protocol theories #the magnus pod #the magnus archives #the magnus institute #tma #tma theory #im going insane

111 notes · View notes

gadawg-404 · 1 year

Text

It’s amazing that you never hear one climate fear monger mention Solar Cycles, Sun Spots and that the various sun events change the weather on Neptune. Yes, reasonable efforts to not pollute are wise. Why isn’t anybody concerned about theGreat Pacific Garbage Patch, which is larger than Alaska in size? Why no huge international effort to stop the pollution from China and India? Must be there is no money in for the fear mongers.

92 notes · View notes

followthebluebell · 11 months

Note

Hi there! I was wondering about clay cat litter and if it poses any internal risk to cats? My parents told me that they once lost a cat due to bowel obstructions from clay litter (so their vet said), so we always used wheat or pine alternatives and I continued that once I moved out just to be safe. But I've always wondered how dangerous clay can really be, if it's so commonly used and sold? Is there any real benefit to using the "fancier" litters at all (assuming cat preference isn't an issue)?

Hello!

Yes, if your cat eats clumping clay litter, there is a chance it can become an obstruction. Clay litter clumps REALLY well when it comes into contact with moisture. Great for cat boxes, not so great if the cat decides clay litter is delicious.

It's not very common for cats to just straight-up eat clay. It's more common with very young kittens who don't know anything yet or cats with pica. Pica seems more common in certain breeds like Persians. If your cat doesn't have pica, clay litter is pretty safe to use.

Cats who eat their litter are usually better switched to a corn or wheat based litter. It won't stop them from giving it a nibble (some cats will decide they REALLY like the taste, even), but at least it'll pass safely through their system.

Benefits of 'fancier' litter:

There ARE environmental concerns with clay litter. The process to mine the clay used (generally bentonite) is pretty grueling and causes lots of pollution. In my experience, this is the primary reason people switch from clay.

Weight is another concern, especially for people who live in upper floor apartments or disabled folks. Clay litter is heavy. No one wants to cart all that weight around.

Age is another reason why some people use 'fancier' litters. Kittens also aren't very... GOOD at keeping their butts away from litter when they're using it at first. They can form nasty little clumps of clay around their genitals. For this reason, most kittens are started on non-clumping paper litter.

Oh, and allergies! Clay litter is dusty as fuck. Even the 99.9% dust-free stuff is still going to have clay dust in it. If someone's got sensitive lungs (or their cat does), they might want to explore another type of litter.

For the record, I use Dr. Elsey's clay litter at work and at home. I don't judge anyone for using alternative litters or clay litter. Use whatever works best for your cat and you.

65 notes · View notes

guppygiggles · 7 months

Text

Like Real People Do, Part 3! ♡ (Casper x Avery)

☁️ Summary: Avery explains where he's from and why he lives in the lighthouse. Casper takes Avery to the fair. Things get a bit more interesting between them.

☁️ Warnings: Very mild suggestive language, mild emotional scene, Real Actual Tickling™ This is a series now!

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3 *you are here

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

If you just got here and want to know more about my characters, you can read my comic starting right here!

"Wait, what? If you can do that, why didn't you do it when we met? Weren't you afraid I'd freak out?"

"Well... it takes a lot of energy, and it's not something I can do at the drop of a hat, either. It takes time to spin up. It also wears off after about an hour," he explained, pausing for a moment to take a sip of his drink, "and, yes... I was afraid you would freak out, but I also didn't know how long you would be unconscious. You were out for about twelve hours... I can't hold it for that long."

Avery shifted pensively on the couch, his eyes not meeting mine. My heart sank. He'd only been in my apartment for half an hour, and I had already upset him.

"Look, we don't have to do this if you don't want to. Please don't feel pressured to agree, okay? I won't be upset. We can do something else."

"Please don't misunderstand. I really want to go! I've admired the Ferris wheel from my lighthouse many nights; I've always wanted to see it up close. It's just that, I've never been around that many humans at once before. I'm concerned I won't... behave correctly. Casper, I... I don't want to get you in trouble, or embarrass you."

I stared at him, dumbfounded. I had to admit, it did make sense for a man whose only social interactions were Internet-based to be concerned about his first social outing. I just couldn't believe he was worried about embarrassing me. I shook my head, snorting.

"Dude, there's nothing you could do that would embarrass me, I am so cringe already on my own. As far as getting me in trouble, eh. I've been in trouble before," I said, smirking coolly. That was a lie. I was a total goody-goody who'd never gotten so much as a speeding ticket, but I was willing to risk it for him.

Avery chuckled uncomfortably. He still would not look at me. "So have I."

My eyes widened.

"Holy shit, like, with the law? Avery, you? What did you do?" It was hard to imagine this straight-laced man, in his neat little button-down and slacks, had done anything wrong in his life, much less run into legal trouble.

Avery looked down at his hands, then inhaled deeply. "To answer that, I think it would be appropriate to first explain why I'm here, living in that abandoned lighthouse, in the first place.

"I am from a place called Cirropa, way up in the mesosphere: The highest level of the atmosphere where clouds can still form. Your scientists think that noctilucent clouds are the only type that form there -- that isn't true. Above that layer is where sentient variants, like myself, are born. We just aren't detectable by human technology at that altitude. When you see noctilucent clouds, you are really just seeing the "floor" of Cirropa," he explained.

"Though clouds can't die of illness, pollution can still make us sick, just like it makes you sick. It also prevents new clouds from being born; sentient and mundane alike. A little is tolerable, but too much has a major impact on clouds as a whole. Your industrial revolution in the 1700s had such a deleterious effect on our population that we are now on the verge of extinction: That is why I'm here. I research weather patterns and pollution relief strategies, and collect data that your scientists don't have the technology to obtain, then anonymously provide it to organizations that are trying to enact change. I wanted to ensure that currency would never be a barrier for entry in terms of obtaining my services, because for me, the situation is quite literally life-and-death. So, I do it for free.

I don't often have need for physical things, but when I do, I steal them. Books, clothes, parts to maintain the devices I use to collect data, et cetera. I never take anything I don't need, including food -- I only know that I can eat food because I have occasionally found wild berries and such while conducting research, and, well... I'm a curious fellow."

He brightened a bit, to my great relief, then continued, "Despite the pollution and damage you cause, I still find humans endearing and fascinating. I know you are not all the same, and I feel true sorrow for those who are suffering like we are. The work I do is for them, too. But yes, I have been caught stealing before; I've even been chased by your authorities once or twice! I try not to steal from local businesses when I can avoid it, though. I don't want to hurt small shop-owners with families to feed. Robbing big-box stores is more dangerous, since it's easier to get cau- Casper, are you okay?"

When Avery finally looked at me, my eyes were glassy with tears that I was fighting to prevent from rolling down my cheeks. I hated crying in front of other people, but when I got emotional, it was impossible to hide -- my face flushed when I cried, too. Quickly, I turned into my shoulder and rubbed my tears on my sleeve. He was just so compassionate. My species was destroying his, yet he still held such tender curiosity and empathy for us; he still wanted to be there in my apartment, spending time with me. What could I say to that?

"Avery... whatever you need, just ask me, okay? I'll give you my phone number."

"Casper, I couldn't possibly-"

"Yes, you could. I'm not rich, obviously... but I make enough money. The work you are doing is so important, more important than anything I've ever done. I can't bear the thought of you putting yourself at risk when I can do something about it... especially since I literally owe you my life. I would have drowned yesterday if not for you. Please?" I implored from across the coffee table, my hands fidgeting in my lap.

Avery fidgeted a bit, himself, looking out the window for a moment.

"Alright, dewdrop. If you insist," he relented, smiling a little now.

"Yesss! Here's my number." He typed it into his phone, then gave me his. "So... we got a little off track. Do you still want to go to the fair? Like I said, no hard feelings if not."

He perked up again, his big smile a salve for my aching heart. "Yes!"

"Cool, let's do this transformation thing."

+++

"Erm. Could you turn around? I've never had someone watch me do this before," Avery asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Oh, yeah, of course."

I spun around, facing the kitchen. From behind me, he took a deep breath.

"Remember, once I'm transformed, we have one hour. Okay?"

"Got it, no problem. The fairgrounds are a short walk away, and I'll set a timer on my phone."

"Okay."

First, there was silence. Then, a sound like crackling fireworks, which grew progressively louder until it was so loud, I was concerned my neighbor might hear it. In the blurry microwave window, I could see flashes of light, followed by the faint chlorine-like scent of ozone. The microwave clock informed me that this went on for three minutes, during which time the urge to peek was nigh-unbearable, but I stayed put. Then, there was silence again. After what felt like ages, Avery spoke, "Okay, you can turn around now."

I whirled, instantly catching my breath.

His face was essentially the same, but his puffy head shape had been compacted into that of a human skull, the top of which erupted in a cloud of fluffy, curly white hair. Peeking out from his curls I spied two delicate ears, and his previously white irises were now a playful cerulean, glimmering above his round, cherub-like cheeks. It took me a moment to realize my mouth was open, and close it.

"Do I look human?" He asked.

Avery didn't look human at all, he looked like an archangel, perhaps even a god in this form. 'Celestial' was the only word that seemed appropriate to describe his beauty, and yet... I felt a pang of regret. Though I was excited to take him to the fair, and I accepted this as the only way he could attend... I already missed his cloud form, and the soft, elegant curves of his real head.

So distracted was I, that I forgot to temper my response.

"You're the most beautiful person I've ever seen," I said, and in my heart I knew that I wasn't just talking about his face.

Avery flushed, and despite his human countenance, his blush was still blue.

+++

The glowing arc of the Ferris wheel grew larger as we approached, LED lights illuminating it in a rainbow of colors. It was a Monday night, and I noticed approvingly that the crowd had thinned considerably from the mass of patrons I had seen on weekends prior. As we walked under the colorful welcome awning, the aroma of popcorn, frying oil, and spun sugar engulfed us. The night was warm, and as I looked at Avery, his blue eyes reflecting the many lights looked like a sea of stars.

"What would you like to do, first? If you don't know, I'm happy to lead on," I offered.

"Oh, I'm so excited to ride the Ferris wheel, aren't you?"

I had been on Ferris wheels plenty of times in the past, but I had never been so excited to ride one as I was right then.

There was a short line for the attraction. I bought our tickets and we climbed into the colorful metal cart, which I noticed with delight was painted with a cheeful cloud motif. Unlike other Ferris wheels I had been on, this one had old-fashioned style carts with a single seat and an open top. I climbed in, and as Avery sat beside me, my heart fluttered nervously as his hip pressed against mine. The gate closed and we were off.

Though the night was warm, a gentle breeze caressed us as we ascended to the top of the wheel. I closed my eyes, inhaling deeply the heady bouquet of food, sea and ride machinery. After a moment, I turned to Avery.

"Aren't you able to fly much higher than this thing can go?" I joked.

"Well, yes, but... it's nice to rest and take it all in, you know? Flying is fun, and freeing, true enough... but it can be tiring as well," he said, alabaster curls spilling over his shoulders as he looked up at the stars. Recalling how it felt to ride my skateboard, I could relate.

An unexpected sound broke my reverie.

"Hehe, stop it!" a female voice cried from below us.

I looked down, where two women were cuddled together in the next cart, seemingly on a date. Like Avery and I, they were pressed together in the confined space of the cart, and it seemed one of them was taking advantage of the other's immobility. I watched with a cocktail of elation and horror as she squeezed her partner's sides and scribbled fingertips on her kneecaps, making her squeal with laughter.

"Whatever they're doing down there sounds like fun," said Avery, elbowing me playfully. His nudge to my sensitive ribs sent a shockwave through my whole body, and it was all I could do to endure it without jumping, petrified to tip him off.

"I am going to DIE. How does this keep happening?!" I thought, feeling in that moment as though I were a character in the story of a tickle-obsessed blogger.

"H-haha, yeah, I think they're on a date," I choked.

"Are we on a date, too?" asked Avery, his innocent eyes now trained on me.

Sweat broke out along my hairline, my palms slick as I gripped the lap bar, my heart pumping like an engine piston. In my panic, my internal monologue rang out.

"Say something, quick! If you take too long to answer, it might make things awkward!"

"What do I say! What if I say it's a date and it makes him uncomfortable!"

"What if you say it isn't and he's crushed because he feels the same way you do!"

"BOTH OF THESE OPTIONS SUCK!"

"Do you want us to be?" I asked, summoning all of my courage to look him in the face. Even with his altered visage, behind those eyes, it was still him. There was no going back, now. Whatever he said was going to mean something for our relationship... whatever kind of relationship it was going to be.

"Hehe, well, I... I'll admit, I'm... I'm quite fond of you. But, I've never done this before, especially not with a human. I want to keep going, but, do you think we can take it slow? Isn't that... what real people do?"

"Avery, we can take this at whatever pace you want. I've got nothing but time, and I'm not going anywhere. We don't have to do anything you're not ready for," I replied, trying to hide my breathlessness. "And, for the record... I'm quite fond of you, too, cloudboy."

Avery flashed me his signature grin, making me melt like a snowcone in July.

"Then, it's a date."

He shifted a bit. Then he gently leaned his body against mine, and as he did, my heart soared like a kite off its string.

#tickle fic #tickle fluff #tickling community #casper and avery #like real people do #fluffylore #writing #my fic #romance #tickling #ocs #my ocs

29 notes · View notes

thatswhywelovegermany · 11 months

Text

Verdict concerning urinating at the beach of the Baltic Sea

A man emptied his bladder in the protection of the dark and was confronted by watchful upholders of law and order. The case went to court - and the judges felt challenged to show their craft.

It is one of the advantages of nature that your view of the magnificent landscape is not obstructed by an outside toilet. That's why you simply have no choice but to pee outdoors every now and then. Under the cover of a bush, tree, hill or even the night, an unproblematic affair that should not upset anyone.

Something like that may have gone through the thoughts of the wild wee'er who removed himself about twenty meters from his friends gathered on the Baltic Sea beach in a summer night of July 2022 and urinated protected by the darkness – the act was committed around 00:36 – with his back facing the beach towards the water. Children building sand castles or girls playing volleyball were not active at this time. Nor was the beach frequented by walkers. However, law enforcement officers of the city of Lübeck armed with flashlights patrolled the beach, who confronted the perpetrator – but only after he had emptied his bladder, order must prevail. The man was supposed to pay sixty euros for the administrative offense of "annoyance of the general public by a grossly indecent action", which the man refused to pay. The case went to the district court of Lübeck.

Among other things, the question whether the wild wee'er had violated the public sense of shame was on the table. The court found: no. The person concerned had entrusted himself to the protection of the darkness and did not have to expect to be suddenly illuminated with flashlights and to be approached in a targeted manner. It has to be redounded to the district court's credit that it has also kept an eye on the geographical peculiarities. "The fact that there were no other ways to retreat behind landscape features at the drift line of the Baltic Sea, unlike in mountains and at forest edges, except to turn away, cannot be stacked against the person concerned. That's how it is at the coast."

Yes, that's the way it is at the coast. Continue in the court text, on to the next setback for the Hanseatic city of Lübeck. According to the district court, no discommoding pollution or impairment by odor had occurred. The Baltic Sea is not a puddle, the wild wee'er had determined correctly. The court has researched that it contains "an amount of 21,631 cubic kilometers of brackish water. The degree of dilution would be so high that even in the event of a repeat or imitation a discommoding pollution or impairment by odor is impossible."

Finally, the district court comes to the beautiful, almost poetically formulated judgment that under the vastness of the firmament, man has no less rights than the deer in the forest, the rabbit in the field or the seal at the drift line of the Baltic Sea. And since, in case of doubt, we are sometimes deer, rabbits or seals, depending on the region, the state treasury has to bear the costs of the legal proceedings and the expenses of the person concerned.

#improbable news from germany #that's so german

52 notes · View notes

beardedmrbean · 8 months

Note

“Anyone else remember when we had that massive blackout over most of the northeast US and a bunch of urbanites were freaking out about weird lights in the night sky because they didn't know what stars looked like.”

No no no no

No no

No no no no no noo

NO NO NO, NU UH, NEIN NEIN NEEEEEEEEEEEEEEIN

Urbanites must known what stars are from family road trips like I do. Or from movies, or understand that city pollution covers the stars

If this true, no wonder screenwriting is shit especially in fantasy.

Source on the LA one, r/AskHistorians

Did people actually call 911 or an observatory upon seeing the Milky Way due to the power outage that followed the Northridge Earthquake?

So foreign are the real night skies to Los Angeles that in 1994, after the Northridge earthquake jostled Angelenos awake at 4:31 a.m., the observatory received many calls asking about "the strange sky they had seen after the earthquake."

Yes they did, no 911 just local observatories. Griffith Park observatory I'd guess

The confluence of Jupiter and Venus also managed to get some calls.

_________________________

I'm willing to cut people a little slack on this one because it is abnormal, those are going to be two of the brightest objects in the night sky and if you have no clue what they are other than bright spots I can understand the concern. _____________

But ya, this stuff happens as you see.

#zoomer huey anon

28 notes · View notes

feral-fae-writes · 1 year

Text

Hot Gum || One-Shot

A/N: I’m back from the dead. Ain’t that lovely. @rayofsarkasm, you’re welcome. This is my preemptive apology for when we finish reading Ellen Hopkin’s Identical. Minor formatting and editing errors because I’m (unfortunately) posting this on my phone. I’ll fix them at a later time; I don’t have access to a desktop right now. Enjoy, loves.

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Dr. Spencer Reid × BAU Agent!Reader

Wordcount: 1,062(?) Will double-check later.

Type: One-Shot

Summary: A late-night investigation turns into a minor interrogation, and Dr. Reid is only concerned with one outcome — verbal revelation among the fires of hell.

Hot Gum

It wasn’t Spencer that caved first. It was you. Yeah, you’d seen him every so often outside of the BAU’s office when you (rarely) left Garcia’s office, and every single time, his eyes followed. He wasn’t openly staring, no. He was more respectful than that. But you could feel intrigued eyes on yours every step.

You’d asked him what his deal was; the two of you were working late one night — he was checking some information in the database, and you were… supervising? Yeah, supervising Supervisory Special Agent Dr. Reid, who had… What, three PhD’s? The excuse made even your eyes roll.

He didn’t answer.

Truth be told, you just couldn’t stand the idea of anyone being in the repository room after dark. You watched him work; he was chewing gum as he typed without looking at his hands, flames flickering between eyes and screen.

“What are you looking for?”

“The last known on-the-grid location of the unsub. An internet trail.”

No shit, Sherlock.

“What, you’re going to magic a lead out of thin air? Isn’t that usually Garcia’s thing?”

“Yes. But: ‘Chicks dig magic,’” he replied.

The reply seemed a little quippy, and you tilted your head in blatant amusement. “Who told you that?”

“Morgan.”

“Hm. What flavour of gum is that?”

“Cinnamon.”

Silence (and the sound of typing) hung in the air for a few minutes.

“What’s your problem?” You blurted out. Immediately, a hand came up to cover your mouth in shock, as if to backpedal — as if to rescind the words. “Shit, I’m—”

“My problem?” He inquired, fingertips pausing on the keys, hummingbird hands still. Why were you noticing his hands? You shook your head and tried to meet his eyes.

“I mean… I just don’t get it, Spencer.”

He blinked. His hands tensed slightly on the keyboard; maybe you’d offended him by calling him by his first name? The rest of the team called him by Reid. You barreled onward. No going back now, lines of formality crossed concerning his name or not.

“You watch me like a hawk, but you’ve not said a word to me since I joined the BAU.”

“That was intentional. I’m sorry. If it helps, I… I admire the work you do; I could never understand it.”

Now it was your turn to blink. Dr. Spencer Reid — the team-proclaimed genius, the man who could read 20,000 words per minute and had an eidetic memory — couldn’t figure out computers.

“I’m a technophobe,” he explained further, tonally dipping into a register he only used for his apparently not-so-rare (according to the team, but not in your experience) insights into random information.

“It’s not as uncommon as you might think. Even as early as the 19th century, relatively speaking, people were afraid of technology advancing. Poets William Wordsworth and William Blake believed that the technological changes taking place as a part of the industrial revolution were a pollution — a turn of circumstances that tarnished their cherished views of nature.”

His voice was reserved, even soft, as he talked about poets and progress, and, to be honest, you were only half-listening. His voice lulled you into a sort of dreamy comfort you didn’t have words for, when he did speak. His eyes never left the screen.

“You sound like an encyclopedia.”

“To the rest of the team, I am one.”

“Right. You never answered my question, Doctor.”

At that, he spun in his chair to face you, halfway, his hands flitting up off the keys, then back. A gasp escaped you — In surprise? In fear? … In excitement? — but he didn’t outwardly react.

“My problem is you.”

“What?”

“I’m curious about you.”

You scanned him, looking for something, but you didn't even know what. Your eyes trailed his hair, his eyes, the bridge of his nose, his stubbled jaw… his lips. When he spoke again, it was in a low whisper. His hands left the keyboard for a third time, hummingbird wings flitting up to brush a lock of hair out of your eyes. And then he took your glasses off.

“Hey!”

“Darling,” he murmured. Darling? “I can’t go through this again.”

His voice carried a smoky rasp that sent distant coppery desire through you. He inspected your glasses. You stared at him, staring at them, through mildly blurry vision.

“You’re near-sighted. To a severe degree.”

“Your point, Doctor?” He wasn’t an optometrist, too… was he? That’d be the cherry on top of the super-genius sundae.

“My point,” he started, looking up at you with somber, doe-like brown eyes, “is that you won’t need these. May I?” He asked, inclining his head toward your glasses.

“Excuse me? Doctor—“

He pulled you in, with gentle insistence; despite that, it was sudden and you let out a tiny yelp.

“May I?” He repeated, voice now merely a breath. “I promise I’ll explain myself.”

You only nodded, unsure of what exactly you were agreeing to, but dumbfounded and mute from shock. You watched as he put your glasses on, pulling you closer, and when that was done, he moved Garcia’s keyboard.

“Spencer—” You tried again.

“You know, you’re the only one besides J.J. to not call me Reid all the time?”

You fell mute again, as he lifted you up like a doll, placing your left, then right, leg on each respective shoulder.

“R-Reid,” you whimpered.

“Are you scared? Please don’t be. Do you want to know why you’re my problem?”

Unconsciously, you bit your lip. “There’s cameras in here,” you replied lamely. “Garcia will—”

“Yeah. I know.”

“You don’t care?”

“I’ll disinfect everything. Please don’t worry,” he replied. Pleaded. And as you stared into those big, brown, mournful eyes, you realised two things:

One. You didn’t have an answer to that. You only knew that you felt the coppery desire becoming a hot chill as he spoke. He had slid your panties off, down your legs, as you’d questioned him.

Two. You knew you were okay with being both the solution and the problem in his life. Now he was kissing the bridge of your nose, your lips. His hot gum was in your mouth. He was sharing his fever.

“W-Why?”

“I have to warn you; you’re my problem because… my last two relationships? Both girls ended up dead.”

Before you could formulate an answer, he lowered his head as if in repentance, falling to his knees in front of you. He confessed with his tongue, and as he spoke sin, you tasted cinnamon.

#fae's fics #fae writes #criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer reid #dr spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader #my fic

81 notes · View notes

cupidsdescendant · 1 year

Note

loved the sniper x y/n smut you wrote!! please write more smut with him, he’s adorable🥺❤️

perhaps a part two?? :D

HAI ANON!! TYSM I'M SO HAPPY YOU LOVE IT!!! I will be writing more smut with him but the part two I created doesn't have any ;w; I apologize about that! I totes will make more smut with him in the future tho!!

Feverish Lust (PART 2)

*listening to Pinkies Brew as I write this lol* Part 2 to the first Smut fic I wrote My heart is warmed to the core knowing people enjoyed this <3 thank you so much for the feedback!!

It's been 4 days since the "incident". The heat had lifted and everything was at a reasonable temperature. The routine of a cool, sunny day had returned but the heat between Y/N and Sniper lingered. Sniper had been high-strung ever since and tried to avoid Y/N in any way he could. Dodging her during fights, changing his positions, and even telling the mercs to keep her away from him. Every night since then he'd lay on the floor with his legs spread spacing out to the idea of experiencing what Y/N did for him again albeit changing parts of it to fit his fantasies. Thoughts of Y/N crawling to him and slowly unbuttoning his shirt, teasing him by pulling his zipper down with her teeth, seeing her chest exposed in that dirty position...it drove him mad. Sniper never masturbated to it though. He found it to be ill-mannered and disrespectful to pleasure himself to the thought of another person without their consent. Instead, he let himself get hot and bothered by it before snapping himself to reality and going to bed.

Y/N hadn't seen him since that day and she worried. There was no sign of him and she feared he hated her. She rested her body on the wall of the Medbay, waiting for her annual checkup with Medic "Did I go overboard...?" Her heart sank. She liked him for a long, long time and a pang of guilt stung her, realizing she never confessed her feeling and that was both their first intimate moment with each other. Y/N's face was warm, embarrassment crept its way in and she put a hand over her mouth trying to hold back anything she could say.

Mornings rose and nights fell as been 2 weeks since Sniper and Y/N had talked nor interacted. The guilt had eaten at her. Her performance levels had decreased during matches and she'd become more fatigued. It felt strange seeing this from her, considering she was one of the mercenaries that had been incredibly ambitious and competitive. Soon enough, everyone else started to notice. On the first night of the 3rd week, Y/N stayed in her room staring at the wall and imagining the possibility of an alternate path. "We could've talked...I could've just talked. I could've, I should've-ugh." Even trying to find a solution to fixing the past never seemed right. Y/N was jolted out of her thoughts by three forceful knocks. She hastily got out of bed and asked in a panicked tone, "Who's there?"

"Y/N. It is Heavy." She took a deep breath and exhaled a sigh of relief "Doors open."

Heavy grabbed the chair from Y/N's desk and quietly positioned himself while she observed him. "Do you need something, Heavy?" Y/N leaned against the wall, folding her arms. Heavy let out a quiet grunt as he gazed around her room. "We are worried for Y/N. You stay in room for very long now." Y/N appeared puzzled. She felt flattered by the concern "we" had shown toward her. She had never imagined that the mercenaries paid any attention to her actions. "Really?" "Yes. They think you did something to Bushman. He is also very quiet. Gone more than usual... " "You did something to Bushman" Y/N was angered by Heavy's statement. "WE DIDN'T DO ANYTHING!!" she exclaimed defensively, feeling her joints stiffen and her eyes scrunch up. As a result, Y/N's mind was polluted with negative thoughts. "They were talking about you?!" "I bet they were judging, they probably all think you're a whore, that you're dirty. DIRTY!" Her heart felt like it was about to burst. Heavy's eyes widen and his eyebrows compressed to a worried-like arch "There is no reason to be angry. Heavy was saying what the team was saying! Please do not be angry at Heavy." The atmosphere was thick with a palpable silence, leaving him in a state of uncertainty regarding the direction of the conversation or the appropriate course of action to take.

A hiccup escaped Y/N's mouth as tears formed on the surface of her tear ducts. An intense wave of emotions struck, her head pounding forming an instant headache, making it hard to suppress her feelings. "No, Heavy-! I..I did do something! But I-" As much as she wanted to pour everything out she still tried to contain a torrent of emotions within herself. "I-f-feel-" She clenched her teeth and she breathed through her mouth. Heavy got up and walked slowly to Y/N trying not to scare her and gave her a huge, warm, and loving bear hug. He placed a finger on his lips and hushed, signaling for her to be quiet. As she cried, she felt the vibrations of his stomach beneath her, seeking comfort in his embrace. She held on tightly as she hiccuped the last she could at the moment "I-I should've...I'm sorr-y..never done that, Heavy, I wish I-" Y/N was shortly cut off: "Shhh...It's okay, Heavy is here. It is okay, do not worry."

The hours passed as Heavy kept a close watch on Y/N, relieving her of her pain and sorrows. Heavy learning her deepest secret was shocking but he didn't let what he learned changed his perception of Y/N's character and her as a woman. The two sat down on Y/N's bed after standing for so long and slouched over her bed frame. He gently patted her back as she rested her head on his forearm, with her hair tousled and her face still flushed. Her lips and eyelids were puffy and her eyes were visibly low on energy. "You should talk to bushman." Her eyes traced Heavy up to his eyes that have been staring at the wall. "He will do you no harm."

"It's not as easy as you think it would be. I don't even know where he is." "He is not in tower?" "no." "Then I will bring him to you." Heavy got up and stretched his back and shoulders. Y/N watched as he placed his hand on the doorknob, about to open it. She raised her voice. "Heavy, please don't get involved. I don't really want-" But before she could finish her sentence, the door closed, leaving Y/N alone.

"Where are you taking me, mate." Sniper's boots kicked the dirt as he followed Heavy. His eyes were glued to the floor and he kept his hands in his pockets. "You will find out when we get there," Heavy said assertively. Y/N nervously tapped her knee, feeling a sense of panic wash over her. Despite having a fully written script, she was unsure of what to say or do next. "Please don't come please don't come please don't come" The door creaked open from the outside as Heavy's figure appeared. "Y/N." Sniper was caught off guard. He stood silent behind Heavy as he pressed his thumb and index finger against the fabric inside his jeans. He needed to find something to ground him, to make him feel less nervous but with each pinch, he realized that he was really within inches of the girl he tried to hide from.

"You two talk now." Heavy walked to the side to reveal the quivering Sniper and he walked behind, closing the door. They both stared in opposite directions of the room, trying to avoid any possible eye contact. Sniper and Y/N let themselves soak in the silence and didn't make any obvious want to talk. She picked away at the skin on her thumbs, he ripped the pocket in his jean from all the friction between his fingers and left a hole where he dug his finger in to expand it. Y/N took out her paper from her pocket. It was folded into a small square, and the sides of it were chaffed from her playing with it. The paper wasn't moist or wet but because of her intense anxiety, her entire body was hot which made the paper limp with drops of sweat. She opened it and her thumbs dented it, her expression changed to regret. When she wrote it at the time it seemed like everything was perfect, that everything she had to say to the man was written confidently but now that she sees him standing in front of her, Y/N had no idea how to get her words out. It was so easy in her head.

Sniper's head was throbbing, too many thoughts had cluttered his voice of reason. At any point, he could blurt out something but he didn't know the effect of what it would do. He couldn't grasp a single thought for long enough to make out something that would be beneficial to Y/N. He couldn't think of anything. "Start with something simple. Something that will start something."

"Hiya, Sheila." Y/N looked up to see a guilty-looking Sniper, he bit his lip ever so slightly, and his eyebrows furrowed. Y/N just gazed at him. Nothing escaped her lips and she didn't reply, she just stared. She let the atmosphere stay silent. She felt hurt by his response because it took her back to that day. The sounds around them control the conversation, the tapping of the water falling down a pipe, Scout's voice bouncing outside with energy, and the wind flowing in through the window. How was she going to respond to that? What was she going to say?? How would she even say it? "I'm sorry." She said after what felt like ages. "I'm sorry, Mundy." She stared deeply at the paragraphs she wrote in her letter, all the question marks surrounding sentences, and the last thing she wrote. I'm sorry

"Don't be... Uhm-." The clicking of his shoes grew closer to Y/N and she looked up. He stared back at her, his eyes softer. "I should be sorry. I'm sorry I ..tried to ignore you." He averted his eyes to the wall. "I'm sorry I was, I didn't, I didn't know how I was going to approach you after that. It changed my feelings for you a lot." A light pink flushed his cheeks. Only he really knew what changed during that time, his fantasies. Y/N got up and straightened her back, she let go of the paper and she looked him in the eyes. Y/N confidently raised her voice

"Mundy, I'm in love with you. I've been for a long time," she continued but her confidence lessened when her head computed her next sentence, "and. and well-..well, I wish. I wish-..I wish I didn't do that. It was nice, but I wish I told you how I felt beforehand." After expressing what she finally meant to say all along her words stringed on perfectly, "I want to get to know you, I want to love you. I want to experience things how they're supposed to be before I do anything like that with you. I love you, Mundy." Y/N grabbed both of his hands and squeezed them with hers "Let me experience love with you before any kind of lust."

Sniper's eyes fell into Y/N's. He stared at her. Her eyes were wistful and bright. He had no words. He took his hand and rested it on her cheek, resting his lips onto hers and pushing his upper lip. They closed his eyes and let the sensations bury any doubt they had, their mouths dancing with one another and taking in each other with each readjustment. They opened their eyes, both of them having their chest beat with affection. Passion dripped from one another's mouths and they took pleasure in looking at each other afterwards. Y/N could feel him stare into her soul.

"I love you too, Y/N"

this took me a week to write ;-; hope it was too yall's liking!! I'm sorry this wasn't smut, I know it was wanted (I'll write another story with it dw ;) but I really think it was important for this to be addressed IMO ) Again I love you all, and thank you so much for the support. This blog means the absolute world to me!!! Mwah! GG

#tf2 sniper #team fortress two sniper #tf2 sniper x reader #team fortress sniper #tf2 fanfic #tf2 fanfiction #tf2 x reader #tf2 x you #team fortress 2 #team fortress #tf2 scout #tf2

91 notes · View notes