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whalesforhands · 4 months

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kaizen daycare! 3

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“Are ya gonna follow us home t’day?” Megumi rubs at his little eyes as his puppy-themed socks come to a stop before you, trying to stifle an incoming yawn. He sounds hopeful, dare you even say, excited.

“Daddy said you were gonna eat at our house too.” He’s suddenly holding his arms up towards you, asking to be carried as he awaits with still half-opened eyes.

“Oh? Megumi-kun, are you excited about moving in?” You’re bending down, your hands picking him up and supporting his weight, letting the child’s head loll and rest against your chest. His cheek squishes against you, a sleepy comfort overtaking him once more now that he’s in your arms.

“Mn.” You feel him press his ear against your heartbeat, smiling at the steady, slow vibration, his innocent eyes already starting to close once more as he cuddles himself against you, getting comfortable in your embrace. “I just wanna see you there…” His words trail off with his sleepy haze, going limp in your hug as he finally falls back asleep.

You feel a blush overtake you at his words, the gentle chime of a nursery lullaby flowing into your ears, accompanied by the adorable snores of your other children as you sat upon a nearby cushion with a sleeping Megumi in your arms. So cute.

Maybe it was a good idea to accept their family’s invite afterall?

——

Sometimes, you’re utterly at a loss for words at a certain trio within your class. Even as Mimiko sips on a cup of milk whilst sitting on your lap, Nanako humming, sprawled out on the floor next to you and drawing with her plethora of crayons and Megumi playing with the toy trucks by his sisters.

(“Hmm…” Mimiko leans back, staring up at you, hands fiddling with her now empty milk carton. She’s always been one to speak her mind.“(name)-sensei…”

“Mm?” You look down at her, snapping out of your dazed out trance, your fingers that were mindlessly combing through her hair stopping abruptly.

She doesn’t respond, her eyes scrutinizing you as you give her the moment to collect her words. Is something wrong? Did her milk taste bad? You had the same one, you don’t think—

“You’re so pretty.” Just as pretty as her Papa and Daddy. Maybe even more? She’d have to ask her plushies one by one later on who they think is the winner. She’s betting on you.)

“Nanako-chan, do you need me to call him? It isn’t like your Papa to be late…”

“Nope!” She pops the ‘p’ as she skips over to her cubby. “It’s realllll good that we’re the last ones left, and so earlyish! Pap— We thought we were gonna have to wait longer!!” She digs around the frog themed backpack, her tongue stuck out in concentration before she pulls out her phone.

Her very expensive, high-tech, latest in the market phone that was leagues better than yours and probably costed around an entire month of your salary. “Papa said to just text him if he’s late, and Daddy’ll come zooming the fastest around!”

That was approximately 4 minutes ago.

“(name)-sensei, (name)-sensei! I drew this for you!” A sheet of A3 paper is thrusted into your face, a burst of colour that dyed your eyes in fascinating intrigue as they slowly focus in on the drawing.

Matching blonde and brunette bobs, right next to a darker ponytailed brunette and spiky black. Shiny, smiley faces that were drawn on with an attempt to scribble the characters of their names just above them.

Though, that wasn’t the main focus. You notice 3 more figures upon the paper, characterized by neon-blue crayon for eyes, another having long shadowy black for hair… And the unmistakable pink of your apron you wore for work.

(You can’t even deny that it’s you. You saw her peeking over and trying to see and copy down your name embroidered onto the top of your apron.)

“That’s a wonderful drawing, Nanako-chan! What made you want to add me in?” Megumi and Mimiko have now gathered near you, squeezing in under your arms to stare at their sibling’s art work.

“That’s cause we love (name)-sensei a wholeeeeeee lot!” She draws a circle in the air with her arms, the widest circumference she can go. “Wayyyyy more than this!”

We…? Why, you feel flattered— A knock at the door sounds, a boisterous voice disrupting your train of thought.

“Daddy’s here!”

——

“But Nanako wants to sit on (name)-sensei’s lap!” A pouty complaint as she tugs on her dad’s jacket, narrowed brown squinting up at him as she hugs her frog plushie backpack close to her.

“Nope!” The grown man makes an X cross with his arms. “Papa’s gonna have my head if you’re not in your booster seat.”

“Then you sit in the back and Nanako will drive!” She’s determined to be able to be next to you on this short drive back.

You’re already helping Megumi buckle himself into the booster seat, a sleeping Mimiko all strapped in as her soft breaths are barely heard. You notice the soft, chubby fingers that rests themselves over your hand just as you were about to pull away.

“Hmm? Megumi-kun, what’s wrong?” He says nothing as he stares at your hand, eyes downcast and as if too conflicted to let go. “I dwon’t want you to go…”

You think you’re going to die from cuteness.

“I’ll be with you real soon, okay?” You ruffle his hair, watching as he grunts lightly at the sensation before he lets you go.

It isn’t long before Gojo gets his blonde daughter to behave and obediently settle next to her siblings, hugging her plushie close as she receives a wave from you from outside.

It’s just you and their other father now.

“Gojo-san, thank you for offering me to drive me back.” You’re smiling up at him, oh so innocently. It almost makes him want to—

“Sa. To. Ru.” You feel a tap to your nose at the last syllable. “We’re gonna be neighbours, aren’t we?” He sends you a charming wink. “Plus, I don’t mind driving you back. I’d even it rather be a regular occurrence, if you left it up to me.”

(S-so forward! Isn’t he scared of what his husband will think?! Driving another adult around so casually in his car!)

“That isn’t necessary at all, Gojo—“ You see him pout, his cheeks starting to puff up. “Sa…Toru-san. You really don’t have to.”

“Hmm.” He leans in— Almost intimately close as you back off slightly, your back coming into contact with his car. Vibrant blue stare into your own, as you tilt your head in innocent confusion.

“You know, (name).” His voice trace over your name with such a deep, almost fulfilling tone that makes your heart stir. “I’m been kind of worked up lately.”

An arm that extends past, lightly brushing your hip as he gets the door for you. Except… He doesn’t seem to be opening it anytime soon, choosing to box you in between the car and his body. “You could say that I’m even a little… Excited.”

(“Oh? I suppose it is a little nerve wrecking to have a guest over when you just move in.” You nod, ignoring the warmth that was exceedingly close to your waist, your gaze still holding his own intense orbs. “Even I wouldn’t dare to invite someone over when I’ve barely got everything set up yet, so I get you, Satoru-san.”

He blinks, the tension diffusing in mere seconds before he starts breaking out into a boisterous laugh, tilting his head downwards towards the ground and a hand over his mouth.

“Ahaha! That’s right, sensei!” You’re so cute.)

——

“Hello!” A sparkling set of eyes and rocking feet, hands clenched into excited fists that pump into the air. “Welcome to our new house!” A little girl no older than 3 or 4 appears in front of you, her brown hair fluttering with her bouncy joy that radiates off of her in waves.

“My name is Tsumiki! I like drinking strawberry milk and being praised!” She ends her introduction with an eager V-sign, bright teeth out in a grin and eyes upturned into the cutest little crescents, before she flattens her arms at her sides, bowing to you. “It’s a pleasure to meet you!”

“My, you’re so polite.” You lean over to pat at her head, your bag long placed on top of the counter at their genkan. “I’m (nam)—“

“(name)-sensei! You live in the apartment right next to us, you work at the kindergarten my brother and sisters go to, you’re super, suuuuper sweet like kikufuku mochi and, and—!” Her eyes are sparkling more intensely, practically reflecting a constellation of her thoughts as she looks up at you. “And you’re even super, super pretty!”

(Even prettier than all the other times she’s seen you.)

You’re honestly at a loss for words right now. How much are you talked about here…?

“Mmm, but I suppose calling you sensei when you aren’t my sensei is a little strange, right, sensei?~” She’s strangely playful, big grin and eyes that gleamed with something you can only describe as a yearning want.

She taps her chin in thought, eyes averting to the side and upwards as if in deep thought. “Ah!” She claps her hands together. “Can I call you Mama?”

(W-whaaaaaat?! So upfront!)

“Please, please?” She’s already wrapped her arms around your legs, her pouty, mischievous eyes pleading up at your blushing form, her head buried into your tummy as she’s on her tiptoes.

You’re blushing hard— Your eyes swirling with bashful shyness that makes you so, so nervous. Sure, she’s adorable— So forward and so cute pleading you like this…! You did always tell yourself that you wanted kids—

“Now, now Tsumiki. You’re teasing our poor guest too much.” A tut and a ruffle of her head from behind as an all too welcomed figure appears.

“Papa!”

“Geto-san…!”

“I’m sorry. She takes after Satoru a little too much in that sense.” She turns his gaze downwards. “Tsumiki, help me set the table, please.”

“Okay!” And she patters off, socked feet against the wooden floors as she skips away. “Talk to you later, Mama!”

(Ohhh… You feel like you’re going to burn up from gratified embarrassment… You like the way it sounds but it’s so embarrassing—! Especially when she’s not your child…!)

“No, no, Geto-san. It was lovely being able to talk with her! You raised all your kids so well!” You’re gushing as you talk to him, a hand pressed over your stuttering heart, letting him lead you around, not even noticing the hand that had intertwined with your own as you lost yourself to your overactive mind.

“I sometimes wish they were my own.” You’re turning sheepish, body turned slightly to face his with the still all too cute, all too adorable smile of yours. He stops in his tracks, fingers closing in on your face to brush a strand of your hair back, the graze of his skin against yours makes you shiver in a sense of delight… It always felt strangely— Good whenever he does this.

(He can make that happen, you know?)

“Trust me, sensei—“ He feigns a tired sigh, pulling away, causing your shoulders to slump in visible disappointment, much to his adoration. “They can be up to no good if they want to be.”

Now that you’re actually in their house, it definitely feels a little high class. Their cushions that looked and felt like they were too out of this world, their curtains looking a little glamorous… Not to mention how amazingly soft the couch you were sitting upon felt…

You were so sure you passed by your own apartment next to theirs not too long ago. Now you’re not even sure if you’re even living in the same realm of possibility…

“Dinner’s about to be finished up. Do you mind waiting a bit?”

“If you don’t mind,” You tilt your head to the side as you watch him. “I could lend a hand.”

——

“Gumi, c’mere.” Tsumiki beckons her younger brother towards her, the little boy waddling over with his towel wrapped around him, dripping with water as he holds onto his sister’s hand.

(It’s normal for them to wash up a little bit before dinner, they’ll take their bath later.)

“Don’t they look like a marriage?” A proper one. Like in those late-night soap operas one of her Mother’s ‘friends’ used to leave on. The way Papa is smiling as you taste test his cooking, the way Daddy tried to eat whatever you touched, the way you all laughed in an emotion that cannot be anything else but utter joy.

“Get— Suguru-san, I think it needs a little salt.”

“Mm, is that so?” He doesn’t even hesitate to place his lips onto the spoon you had just used, tongue peeking out to lick up any leftover remnants that could be there. “It might be the lack of dashi stock. I need to go to the market soon.”

“Oh, there’s one nearby, I could show you—“

“Suguru! No fair! I wanna taste too!”

“Aren’t you meant to be helping the kids dry off, Satoru?”

“Mmm, I will if I get fed!” He opens his mouth towards you, “Pleaseeeeee? I’m getting hungry!”

You’re the one. Tsumiki knows you are. She just does. Her grip on the door frame tightens ever so slightly, a twinkle of longing, of yearn in her gaze.

“Better than Mother ever looked with any of those men…”

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Notes:

It’s very important that you do not leave the nap room for very long during naptime. You went out to do some administrative work and you came back to a crying Mimiko that was biting into her plushie, trying to silence herself so as to not disturb the rest while she huddled into a corner and silently wailed for you.

“(name)-sensei…! D-don’t leave Mimiko again…!” Her tears are soaking into the front of your apron, her small hands gripping onto the fabric of upon your shoulders as she clung onto you. Desperate, scared.

The other children do not like it when you’re not around. Stay in the rooms with them.

“Aww, I thought I heard something from outside. Was it you, Megumi?” Geto Suguru soon scoops up a blank, sleepy little boy dragging a blanket in.

“Oh? What do you have in your hands for me, Gumi? It’s—“ He continues to smile. “Are those my… Contact lenses? Thank you very much…” The transparent item is plopped onto Suguru’s open palm, a silent Megumi burying his face into his father’s chest soon after.

What a peculiar child.

#jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru x reader #satosugu x reader #geto x reader #gojo x reader #kdc au

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epochofbelief · 3 months

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Strictly Confidential: A Feysand AU

Chapter One

She's a law student turned confidential informant. He's a prosecutor with only one goal: bringing down her boyfriend for illegal activity . . . What could go wrong?

Hi everyone! Here's chapter one. I hope you enjoy. Let me know if you're interested in being tagged. Any thoughts on the story are much appreciated, too!

Chapter One

Feyre collapsed against the wall as soon as class was over. Sweat dripped from her temples, sliding over the layer of concealer she had plastered on that morning. She wiped her forehead, swearing to herself once again that this would be the last time she allowed Tamlin to drag her to a Crossfit class.

Even though she had made and broken that same mental promise to herself three times a week for the past six months.

As she guzzled from her near empty water bottle, Tamlin slung a sweaty arm over her shoulders, his skin against hers slick. Oily. “Got any of that left?” Tamlin asked, already reaching for the water bottle.

Feyre sighed, handing it off to him. “A few drops.”

He knocked it back without another word. Not an appreciative smile. No thank you, Feyre. Not even a nod of gratitude for the water he had taken from her.

As she followed Tamlin out of the warehouse where the Crossfit classes were held, Feyre made another vow. The first of its kind, but perhaps with more resolve behind it than the one she had made only moments ago.

She was going to break up with him this week.

Feyre trailed Tamlin through the parking lot, eyes on the back of his neck, his blonde hair stuck to it with sweat. Her boyfriend of over a year had fallen into conversation with his best friend, Lucien. Lucien was also a regular at these Crossfit classes, but had met Tamlin through work. Tamlin had hired Lucien as his Director of Operations at his company, Spring Solutions. Five years later, the duo were best friends.

Lucien climbed into the passenger seat of Tamlin’s expensive truck, leaving Feyre to haul herself into the back as usual. Tamlin swung into the driver’s seat and made short of work of getting the vehicle out of the parking lot and onto the highway that would carry them back into the city, back to the building where Tamlin and Feyre shared an apartment and Lucien lived a few floors down.

As the two discussed something about work—a topic Feyre didn’t particularly care about—she thought more about the terrifying new task she had set for herself.

Breaking up with Tamlin wouldn’t be simple.

Because it was her life, of course, and things were never simple.

She had shared an apartment with Tam, who was nearly seven years her senior, since the beginning of her second year of law school. Now, a month into her third and final year, their lives were fully intertwined. Feyre paid a few hundred dollars of rent each month, but Tamlin footed most of the bill. The downtown apartment was expensive, something Feyre could never afford on her own thanks to her law student’s budget.

She rarely paid for meals, either. Tamlin subscribed to one of those ultra-healthy meal services. A week’s worth of dinners delivered to their door every Monday morning. Feyre cooked them on study breaks, and the two would usually share a quick meal before Tamlin logged back on to work in his home office and Feyre returned to her books.

Most of the furniture was his, as was the art on the walls. The kitchen utensils, pots, pans. The bed they shared. Everything.

If Feyre moved out, she would have to return to her father’s house or increase the amount of student loans she had already taken out that semester. Neither option sounded appealing. She had lived with her father and her two older sisters her whole life—all throughout her undergraduate studies and until the end of her first year of law school. How she had made it so long trapped in that house, caring for her family in much the same way she cared for Tamlin, Feyre had no idea. So when Tamlin had proposed the idea of moving in together, she jumped at the chance. Didn't think farther than Get me out of my childhood home.

She hadn't considered what would happen if things didn’t work out. If she decided he wasn’t the one for her anymore.

She had gone straight from her father’s house to Tamlin’s apartment, and had fallen into Tamlin’s lifestyle, even if she still wasn’t quite used to it.

At least the bed in the guest room was hers, and the nightstand and the few books she had taken from her father’s house. Her painting supplies.

“Babe?” Tamlin’s voice scattered the plans she was fruitlessly trying to cobble together in her mind.

“What?” She inquired, blinking up at her boyfriend.

“I asked if you wanted to get dinner out tonight.”

Feyre bit her lip. She had already put off studying to come to Crossfit—if she didn’t get home soon, she would have to burn the midnight oil to get all her reading for class done at a decent hour.

“I really have to study,” she said quietly, praying he wouldn’t try to convince her to come to dinner. Because he would never let up and she, inevitably, would give in.

At Tamlin’s sigh, she tentatively tried again. “I’m really sorry! I wish my professors didn’t assign such long readings, but I can’t change it.”

He didn’t say anything.

“You know I would come to dinner if I could. I would much rather do that.” The words weren’t new—she’d used some variation of them numerous times over the past year and a half. They had almost lost all meaning to her, but she’d found this was the best combination to keep Tamlin happy: apologize, provide an excuse that was outside of her control, and assure him that he would always be her first choice.

“Alright. We’ll drop you at home and come back later.”

Feyre choked back her sigh of relief. “Sounds good. Thanks, babe.”

Lucien’s eyes met hers in the rearview mirror—one ginger eyebrow cocking slightly. Feyre looked away, gaze fixing on her lap.

Twenty minutes later, she waved at the car as it sped down the street toward Tamlin and Lucien’s favorite sports bar. With any luck, Lucien would get him drinking beers and talking about work, and she would have at least three hours to herself to shower. Study. Maybe even time enough to feign sleep by the time Tamlin returned.

And indeed, she managed to accomplish everything she needed to do just before Tamlin came stumbling into the apartment hours later. Feyre shut her eyes tight from her spot on the right side of the bed, her fledgling plans swirling through her thoughts until she well and truly drifted away.

-----

The next morning, Feyre gazed at herself in the mirror, turning this way and that to make sure every inch of her suit was clean and pressed to perfection, not a wrinkle in sight. The black jacket clung to her narrow frame, the pencil skirt she wore beneath it as flattering as a skirt that cut her off just below the knee could be. Her golden-brown hair fell in loose waves just past her shoulders, watery blue eyes popping thanks to the brown mascara she had applied.

“You look amazing,” a voice from behind her said.

Feyre turned, smiling at her boyfriend despite all the promises and plans she had made the night before. “Thanks, honey.”

“What’s the occasion?” Tamlin asked, striding forward and placing his hands on her hips.

Feyre stepped back, grinning up at him. “No touching. I have an important networking event with my firm today and I can’t get all wrinkly.”

Tamlin held up his hands, backing away a step. “My apologies, Ms. Archeron.”

Feyre smiled. Tamlin wasn’t always awful.

Just most of the time.

“So when can I expect you home today?”

Feyre sighed, grabbing her backpack and purse and brushing past Tamlin, striding out of the closet and into the master bathroom. “I’ve got a full day of classes, and then this networking event at six. I’m not sure how long it will go, but I’m really hoping to be back by eight.”

“Just as well,” Tamlin said. “I’ve got a late night at work—probably won’t be home until after ten.” Feyre nodded, and Tamlin followed her out of the bathroom, through the bedroom, and down the hall to the kitchen. Feyre grabbed the smoothie she had made earlier that morning and tucked her lunchbox into her backpack.

“Have a good day, honey,” she said, pressing a kiss to Tamlin’s lips. He nipped at her lower lip, green eyes sparking. But Feyre just smiled, retreated, and didn’t breathe deep until she made it to the hallway, door automatically locking behind her.

This week. She was going to do it this week.

Feyre’s day dragged on in one long, miserable slog. She got cold-called by her professors in two of her classes, but she managed to answer most of the questions correctly, her heart thudding violently in her chest all the while.

Cold calls and the Socratic method of teaching were one of her least favorite parts of law school. Most professors gave no warning to their students before they called their names, subjecting them to several questions of the professor’s choosing. If you didn’t know the answer, they might move on. But some waited for you to at least attempt to respond, while the class stared and stared and hands jumped into the air all around, telling you that they knew the answer, that it was obvious. Answering a question correctly felt wonderful—but answering incorrectly usually caused Feyre’s cheeks to burn a bright red.

It didn’t matter how many of the randomly determined “calls” Feyre endured—every time a professor spoke her name, her hands started sweating, her heart rate climbing up and up and up until the professor moved on to another victim.

She spent a few hours at the library after class, tucked in her favorite corner. It was private, but better than sitting in the main quad where most of the law students gathered to study during daytime hours. Feyre hadn’t spent any notable length of time in the quad since the first semester of her 1L year. As her relationship with Tamlin progressed, the few friends she had made faded away as Feyre opted to attend the fancy dinner parties and events Tamlin invited her to. Maintaining a new relationship and keeping up with her studies didn’t leave much time for anything else—not even friends. That wasn’t to mention the time she had spent at home with her sisters and father her entire first year of school, taking care of most of the housekeeping and cooking duties because the rest of her family had “real jobs” and Feyre was still “just a student” who didn’t work a regular 9-5.

Now, she felt like a ghost in the halls of the school. She would wave to her old friends if they passed in the hallways, but Feyre had long ago accepted that this would be her law school experience: sitting in the back of the classroom, answering questions if forced, and generally keeping to herself.

It was a quiet, small existence she led. Class. Tamlin. Attending whatever events or obligations Tamlin dragged her to. Studying.

After she’d had enough studying for the day, Feyre took the train to downtown Prythian, checking her makeup at least four times before the train arrived at its stop a few blocks from a large hotel and event center in the heart of the city. She started to walk the five minutes to the hotel, staring up at the enormous shiny buildings rising around her.

To think, this would be where she worked full-time in just a few short months.

Thanks to competitive firm recruiting, Feyre had had her post-grad job lined up since the summer. She would be starting as a junior associate at Hybern & Night LLP, one of the largest and most powerful national firms in the country. Jobs at Hybern & Night were hard to come by, but thanks to Feyre’s top 5% ranking at Prythian University Law School, and her ability to say all the right things under pressure, she’d scored a job during early interviewing last summer.

The firm occupied the upper floors of one of the tallest buildings downtown. Tonight it was holding a networking event for its partners, associates, recruits, and other lawyers in the community.

She could have skipped the event, but her career counselor had emphasized how important it was to immerse herself in firm activities as quickly as possible—it would make her transition from student to junior associate much smoother, and allow her to make connections with more senior attorneys and partners who might be willing to provide projects for her to work on when she started.

So, she was here, clicking down the shadowed streets of downtown Prythian, gearing herself up to rub elbows with some of the city's wealthiest attorneys.

Some day soon, she would be one of them.

Feyre tugged her coat closer around herself, the chill in the air signaling autumn’s impending arrival. A block away, the windows of the event center glowed warmly in the shadows of the buildings around her. She increased her pace, and soon found herself ensconced in a world of cocktails and arguments. Feyre made a beeline for the refreshments table. She could certainly count on attorneys to ensure there was an open bar at events like this. She seized a glass of red wine and cast her gaze around the room, but didn’t recognize anyone. She had interviewed with at least five of the attorneys from Hybern & Night in order to get her job, but they were nowhere to be seen.

Feyre thanked the man who served her the wine, swallowing back memories of her own time spent as a bartender at Humane, one of the filthiest hole-in-the-wall bars in all of Prythian. She would have preferred talking to the bartender—less posturing required—but forced herself to skirt around the room, looking around for someone to engage in conversation.

She had almost completed a full lap when an enormous man leaned against the wall just in front of her.

“You look lost,” his deep voice rumbled, light brown hair sliding over his forehead, pale green eyes gazing down at her. His cheeks were flushed—probably from the alcohol—and as his eyes slid over her, Feyre was glad she hadn’t yet removed her coat.

“Not lost. Just—” Feyre broke off, shaking her head. “Feyre Archeron,” she said, offering a hand. “I’ll be starting as a first-year associate at Hybern & Night next August.”

“Jax Smith,” he said, an enormous hand encompassing hers. “I'm in my eighth year at Hybern & Night. Hoping to make partner next year. It’s nice to meet you, Feyre.”

Feyre swallowed, taking her hand back and sliding it into her pocket. “You too.” She cast around for one of her pre-prepared questions: So how do you like working at the firm? Any advice for 3L students preparing to enter the workforce? How do you survive the eighty hour workweeks year after year after year? Is the money worth it?

Luckily, Feyre didn’t have to resort to any of her questions, because Jax spoke for her.

“You look awfully young to be a 3L,” he commented, gaze sliding up and down her body.

Feyre cocked an eyebrow, a chill trailing down her spine. “I’m twenty-three.”

“That’s young.”

Feyre gritted her teeth. This was certainly unprofessional. “Not too young, I hope,” she said, forcing a smile. This man was going to be her coworker. She couldn’t just turn around and flee. “I’ll be twenty-four this December,” she said brightly. “Practically collecting Social Security.”

Jax didn’t smile. Only narrowed his eyes like he was trying to see through her coat.

Feyre swallowed another gulp of wine, and as he inched closer, she realized that the alcove where they stood was mostly obscured by two of the many enormous columns ringing the event center. There weren’t any lights in this section, and no one else seemed to be paying them any attention. The rest of the networking attorneys seemed miles away, even the sounds of their voices muffled by a dull roaring that started in Feyre’s head as Jax’s gaze fixed her in place.

“And are you married, Feyre?” Jax asked, one arm resting on the wall next to her head. His gaze dropped to her left hand, wrapped around the stem of her wineglass, her fourth finger obviously bereft of any ring.

“No,” she said, backing away another step.

But her admission only seemed to encourage Jax. He slid forward, eyes focused somewhere just south of her neck, where her coat had fallen open to reveal the v-neck of her dress shirt. “I would be happy to meet you for a coffee sometime. Maybe even a drink. Tell you more about the firm, away from all these stuffy partners. We could even find somewhere quieter here. To talk.” His eyes slid to the hall that led who-knew-where, just behind Feyre, stretching off into the shadows of the hotel.

Feyre’s eyes widened, a lump forming in her throat. This man was her future coworker, her senior. He might even be partner by the time she started at the firm. To turn him down could be fatal. If he took offense, he could spin it any number of ways: She had no interest in learning more about the firm. Couldn’t care less about team-building and getting to know her coworkers. Clearly came for the wine and nothing else.

He could ruin her reputation. And that was something she couldn’t afford. Not if she ever wanted to be free of Tamlin, of her family.

“What do you say?” Jax asked, bending down, his face so close to hers she could feel his breath hot against her cheek.

“I—” Feyre started.

But another man’s voice, smooth as velvet and gentle as the night, floated into the alcove, startling Jax and sending a wave of relief over Feyre.

“There you are. I’ve been looking for you.”

#acotar #feysand #a court of thorns and roses #acomaf #sarah j maas #fanfiction #feyre archeron #rhysand #feyre x rhysand #modern au #feysand modern au #strictlyconfidentialau

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javierpena-inatacvest · 9 months

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Soup for Breakfast

Summary: Javi comes home to find that you caught the flu from your class at school, and wants to help you feel better.

Word count: 1.7K

Warnings: FLUFF. This is literally just pure fluff, as Javier Peña lives in my mind rent free as the biggest softie alive. Mentions of food/eating, mentions of death (but in a really wholesome way), reader being sick

Paring: Javier Peña x f!reader (no use of Y/N, reader is an elementary school teacher)

This can be read as a stand alone, or as a part of the Never Too Late Series!

A/N: I wrote this when I had COVID because I am convinced that if you told Javi that you were sick, he would literally go to the ends of the earth to help you feel better.

“Hey hermosa, I’m home.” Javi set his keys down on the entryway table and shed his dark gray suit jacket, flopping it over the edge of the kitchen counter.

Silence.

“Hermosa?” He questioned again, concern beginning to creep in his voice.

Since you had started the school year, Javi came home every day looking forward to the image of you sitting at the kitchen table, projects and papers from your 3rd grade class spread across the oak surface. You’d smile and give him a big kiss, ready to share whatever crazy antics your class was up to that day. But when he stepped through the doorway, he noticed the usual construction paper, notebooks and crayons, but the seat where you always were was empty.

“Hey baby, it’s me!” He tried one more time, hoping that you were in a room further down the hall and hadn’t heard him. No response. The silence sent Javi into fight or flight, now picking up his speed as he looked into other rooms to find them all empty. He paced back to the living room, trying to keep his composure, his past experience with missing persons not boding well for his current state. Taking a few more deep breaths before doing anything irrational, Javi went to sit down on the couch, until he heard a small grunt underneath him.

“Please don’t sit on me.” You grumbled, nestled under a large pile of blankets.

“Hermosa, Jesus Christ, you scared the shit out of me.” Javi shot up, breathing heavily, placing his hand on his chest. You rolled over, shifting around in your blanket heap, head peeking out to look at Javi. “Baby, are you okay? What’s wrong?” Panic still lingering in his words, now realizing you were laying in a near lifeless heap on the couch.

“No, I feel great. Isn’t this what everyone does when they feel good? Roll themselves into a giant blanket pile?” Your remark oozing with sarcasm and a hoarseness in your voice. “The flu has been going around my classroom and I think I got it.” You groaned, your body aching as you shifted yourself further out of your fabric cocoon. “You’d think by this point I’d have the immune system of a steel truck, but these kids are just never ending germ factories.”

Javi quietly chuckled to himself as he knelt next to you, sweeping your hair out of your face and kissing your forehead. As he got closer, he could feel the heat radiating off you, your breaths heavy and labored as you fought to keep your eyelids open. He grazed the back of his large hand against your hairline, his deep brown puppy dog eyes growing more and more concerned.

“Cariño, you look awful.”

“Way to make a girl feel good.”

“No, baby, that’s not what I meant, I-” he tried to quickly rebuttal.

“Javi, I’m just joking. I know I look like a Gremlin someone just pulled out of a garbage can.” You both quietly laughed before you let out a deep cough, only adding to the effect of your disheveled state. “I started feeling gross this afternoon while the kids were at Art and Gym, so I already made sub plans for the rest of the week, just in case.”

Javi leaned back down to kiss your head once again, knowing you really must have felt awful if you were willing to admit the fact you couldn’t fight your way through your sickness so you didn’t need to find a substitute teacher for your class. “Okay, hermosa. I think that’s a good idea.” He sat up to peek his head over the couch, starting at your kitchen. “Give me one second, okay?”

You nodded, already back to being half asleep. Javi began rummaging through the fridge and cabinets, looking for any food that you would 1- eat, and 2- help you feel better. Grimacing at the low stock of items, he began frantically scribbling down a grocery list full of supplies.

“Hey baby?” Javi had made his way back to the couch, squatting down next to you as he handed you a glass of water.

“Mhmmmmhh?” You moaned, outstretching an almost limp arm to take the glass, sitting up as you took a few sips.

“I’m gonna go to the grocery store to get some things. I promise I’ll be right back. Are you gonna be okay while I’m gone?”

“Well I wasn’t planning on going very far anytime soon, I think I’ll be alright.” You half smiled at him, handing him back the now empty glass.

“Okay. I love you.” He kissed you on the top of your head, his nose nestled in your hair before he pulled away, frantically gathering his keys and shutting the door behind him.

“Love you too.” You mumbled, half coherent as you burrowed back down into your blankets.

When Javi got to the store, he was a man on a mission. You would have thought someone had told him Pablo Escobar was inside at the rate he was moving through the aisles. Completely disregarding the list he had thrown together at the house, Javi had a shopping cart of supplies full enough to tend to the entirety of your 3rd grade class. The thought of seeing you sick and in pain absolutely wrecked him, wanting to do anything he could to help you feel better. He was so desperate, in fact, at one point while in the pharmacy section, he had thrown in a box of bandaids, just in case.

When he returned back to the house, he was relieved to find you at least sitting in a semi-upright position watching TV, laughing to yourself at the ridiculous amount of groceries he had just set down on the kitchen counter.

“I didn’t know we were planning on running a hospital out of our home.” You giggled as Javi unbagged the items.

“I just wanted to make sure you had whatever you needed. I may have gone a little overboard.” He replied sheepishly as he continued to unpack a bag full of snacks.

“It’s okay, it’s sweet. Thanks Dr. Peña.”

“Of course.” He finished putting everything in its place before coming back over to you. “Here, drink this.” He passed another cup over to you.

“Wow, you even got me the red Gatorade? You hate the red kind! You really do love me.” A soft smile crept across your face as you took a small sip.

“Well I’m not the one who looks like they’re on their deathbed, Hermosa.” It took every ounce of strength in you to give him a playful shove. “I’m gonna make you some soup, okay?”

“You didn’t need to go all the way to the store for soup, we have soup here.” You rolled your eyes, knowing how much it physically pained Javi to watch you eat Campbell's canned soup after having a taste of one of his mom’s recipes not too long ago.

“I can already hear mi mamá yelling at me from the grave if I let you eat that shit, especially when you’re sick. I’m making you Caldo de Pollo so she doesn’t come back to haunt me. Had it every time I was sick. Swear it makes you feel better.” Your heart was warming at the idea of Javi making one of his late mother’s recipes, thankful that Javi’s dad had given you some of them from her cookbook.

“Thank you, Javi. You’re the best. I’d kiss your sweet face but I’m guessing you don’t want my germs.”

“A quick one won’t hurt anyone, doctor’s orders.” He winked before planting a soft peck on your lips.

As he got up, he went over to your entertainment center under the TV, pulling out 2 different VHS tapes. “Which one?”

“You can’t pit two Harrison Ford classics against each other! Hmmmm, I do love Indiana Jones, but I think Star Wars is gonna have to be the winner today.

“I had a feeling.” He smiled as he popped in the tape, the theme music blasting as he got to work in the kitchen.

Javi had to admit, he wasn’t a terrible chef. It wasn’t until he met you that he actually felt a need to cook. In Colombia, he was either eating out or stealing whatever leftovers Steve and Connie had, and once he came home, his dad cooked, insisting he wanted to keep his wife’s habit alive and well, even after she was gone. After Javi had chopped up all of the vegetables, he tossed them into the pot to let them simmer with the already bubbling chicken and rice. Once the soup was done, he filled a bowl practically to the brim, bringing it over to you, only to be greeted by the sweet sounds of your soft snores, muffled under the blanket draped across your face. He laughed quietly to himself before putting your soup on the end table of the couch and shuffling himself underneath your blanket mountain so your head rested against his thigh as a pillow. He stroked the ends of your hair between his fingers in one hand, the other, rubbing up and down your back in soft, gentle circles.

He let the end credits of the movie roll before turning off the TV and carefully unwrapping you from your blankets, scooping you up to carry you back to bed. As he laid you down, gently tucking you in under the covers, he heard you mumble something.

“What was that, Hermosa?” Javi’s voice just above a whisper.

“I never ate your soup.” You muttered, eyes still closed, words barely coherent.

“It’s okay. Go back to sleep, baby. You need to rest.” He sat on the edge of your bed next to you, planting a soft kiss on the top of your head.

“Can I have it for breakfast tomorrow?” You grumbled, as you turned over on your pillow.

Javi laughed to himself. “Of course hermosa. Nos vamos por la mañana con tu sopa. Espero que te sientas mejor pronto. Te amo con todo mí corazon, Osita.” (I’ll see you in the morning with your soup. I hope you feel better soon. I love you with my whole heart, little bear.)

If you would have asked Javier Peña all those years ago if he would have ever made someone soup for breakfast, he would have laughed in your face. But now? Now, he would make a million bowls of soup for breakfast, if it meant he got to spend it with you.

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learnyouabiology · 2 years

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Fun Fact: Hagfish Suffocate their Predators with a Cloud of Slime!

(This week featuring my own art, bc I got a new thing and I wanna USE IT)

Sometimes, I come across an animal that makes me go: “Huh. That seems like a fictional monstrosity, fit only for tabletop roleplaying games and fantasy novels. Except I guess this one is real! Weird!”

The hagfish is one of those animals.

Hagfish are quite spooky to behold: Rather than looking like a fish, hagfish look more like scaleless, leathery-skinned worms with little tentacle-like things called barbells around what appears to be their mouth.

Except the polite little opening that you can see in the drawing above is not its mouth. That’s its nostril.

This is its mouth:

**SCREAM**

(ok that’s technically a tongue that has teeth on it, but it’s mouth-adjacent so I STAND BY MY STATEMENT). (drawing based on this picture from this paper)

THIS IS THE STUFF THAT NIGHTMARES ARE MADE OF (and I, for one, love it!)

You don’t need to worry too much about the hagfish’s nightmare mouth, though, since hagfish are pretty much only interested in eating things that are already dead (except maybe a few fish, so if you’re a fish, watch out, I guess).

Plus, they can go more than 6 months without eating and can survive without oxygen for 36 hours, so that’s nice.

(it’s hard to tell, but this is 2 hagfish eating a dead rockfish, plus a third hagfish possibly taking a nap. They’re having a lovely time!)

These guys love a good whale carcass.

Hagfish are a type of jawless fish which are categorised into the class Myxini. They are the only known animals with a skull but no vertebral column and possess 4 “hearts”: a systemic heart in the usual place, a portal heart that’s beside the 1st heart, a cardinal heart in the head, and a caudal heart near the tail. Technically, only the first 2 are considered “true hearts”, but Whatever! x

All of these things are very strange and wonderful, but the weirdest thing about hagfish, in my opinion, is possibly their most distinct feature.

They possess weaponized slime.

Remember that time a bunch of hagfish stole a car were dumped onto a highway in 2017? Everyone (human) was fine, but the slime was REAL (source: x).

This slimey car crash occurred because hagfish excrete slime when disturbed (they caused the slime part, I mean. The crash itself was something else’s fault). Considering the fact that a single hagfish can excrete a maximum of 24 litres of slime (given ideal circumstances) and that there were roughly *checks notes* 13′000 hagfish in the truck, you could end up with around *does some math*... 312’000 litres of slime!

For reference, that’s equivalent to approximately 1’560 bathtubs full of slime.

(my rough math can be found at the bottom of the post, if you’re curious).

That said, this crash probably didn’t feature 312′000 litres of actual slime. What the hagfish excretes is a relatively small amount of a substance which is a combination of mucus and long, thin proteins reminiscent of super-fine silk threads.

When this substance is mixed with water, it immediately expands 10′000 times its original volume!

The resulting slime is 99.996% water (source x). So, unless the truck was also carrying 312′000 litres of water to transport the hagfish in (which is doubtful), the slime probably wouldn’t have been able to reach that volume. (assuming they didn’t try to clean the mess up with water, which is... fully possible)

For my favourite demonstration of this, here’s an (admittedly old & grainy) video of someone transforming a beaker of water into a beaker of slime using a itty bit of mucus scraped from a hagfish.

(it’s cooler in the video, tbh)

What is all this slime even for? Well, mostly to protect the hagfish from predators!

Imagine if you bit into a sandwich and then 24 litres of slime suddenly exploded into your mouth. That would suck. A lot. You probably wouldn’t even finish the sandwich! Probably. I don’t know your life.

Understandably, predatory fish also hate to have a mouthful of slime, except it’s even worse for them, because the slime quickly gets tangled in the fish’s gills, which are important for gas exchange (aka being alive). It is for this reason that hagfish generally don’t get eaten, it seems!

(Ha! That’ll teach you to try to eat in the ocean! i love this paper tbh)

As far as I have been able to research, there are no recorded instances of hagfish being successfully eaten in the wild (though we have seen predators make unsuccessful attempts, resulting in them having an extremely bad time!)

(Thriving. Moisturised. In their lane. x)

While the slime sticks to the predator, the hagfish has an easy way to get the slime off its own body: they simply tie themself into a knot, wiping away the slime, and then goes about their day, unphased.

This has been Fun Fact Friday, bringing you nightmare fuel in this, the fine season of Halloween!

I know that it’s September, but if the dollar store can say that it’s already Halloween season THEN SO CAN I DANG NABBIT.

(bonus of that fish getting pwned, just bc I LOVE those pictures:

(Corrected) math under the cut:

3′400kg of hagfish in the truck (source)

each adult hagfish is around 180-260g (source)

3′400 kg/0.260 kg = ~13′000 hagfish

one hagfish can produce “a teaspoon” of slime (~5 mL), which can expand “10′000 times” its original size when it hits water (~50′000 mL -> 50 L) (source)

This^ is wrong! It’s actually 24 L, max (new source x)

one average bathtub can hold ~200 L of water (source)

(24 L x 13′000 hagfish) / 200 L = 1’560 bathtubs

#hagfish #halloween #marine biology #science #biology #fish #fun fact #sciblr #science side of tumblr #adhd in STEM #STEM #fun fact friday

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crushedsweets · 9 months

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Got any cool hip creepypasta headcanons?!?😱😱

DEPENDS... its hard without any specific prompts but yk what anon im capable of talking out of my ass no matter what.

this'll be talking about the main 12 i usually talk about, so if i say smth like 'so and so is the ONLY one who does this', they aren't actually the only one

toby rides a bike everywhere. he just steals random ones if he sees one he likes or knows hes hella far from home and doesnt wanna walk. brought home a pink beach cruiser once and natalie laughed her ass off. . .

the proxies (tim, brian, toby) have a cabin that tim and brian treat more like a safehouse rather than a home. tim and brian share an apartment near the city though. toby is the only one who lives there full time. they all have to pitch in for the bills, but toby has to scramble to get the majority bc again.. lives there full time.

the cabin only has 2 bedrooms, 1.5 baths, a connected kitchen/living room, and an attic. the small bedroom is filled to the fucking BRIM with random bullshit that they keep as storage but its just ridicoulous. like boxes filled with random shit toby steals (i kinda hc toby as a kleptomaniac too), tables, dressers, clothes, etc. a lot of it is also stuff that like, jeff or nat dropped off being like 'keep this safe for me' and it eventually just devolved into a storage room. the master bedroom is where tim or brian sleep IF they are at the cabin. toby made the attic his bedroom, but he falls asleep on the couch or in the master bedroom if the other two aren't home. he just likes that the attic is someplace nobody else really wants to go cuz.. why would they need to?

tim owns a busted rusty reddish colored pickup truck. he totally named it something like sheila and calls it a 'she.' brian prob just has a basic little grey honda. does not name it . .

natalie has huge issues w her gender. not in a queer way(well sort of in a queer way bc im projecting) but in a like. 'fuck this shit im fucking tired' because growing up, she was always a daughter, sister, niece, etc before she was her own person. she grew up in a house of men, and her extended family was largely ran by shitty, loud, sexist men that constantly ostracized her for being a girl. toby is legit the only dude she's fully like Ok. I'm ok with u. ur just fucking stupid. and she pokes fun at him being a mamas boy and says thats why shes ok with him. she stopped talking to him for like a month the one time he made a gender roles comment that he got from his dad.

natalie used to play volleyball and basketball growing up cuz again, grew up with boys and she was always really tall (like 5'7 in 6th grade, 6ft by highschool). sports and art were her ONLY outlets, but she was always degraded and shamed by her dad and brother for art. her dad loved that she played sports though, one of the only things he was supportive about . until she got a little older and he decided that being a tomboy wasnt as endearing on a teenage girl.

i cannot explain how close jane and her parents were. she was an only child in a upper middle class house to a lawyer and a real estate agent so she was always spoiled rotten, taken care of, always told how beautiful and smart she was. hence why losing them is the most fucking detrimental shit to ever happen to her. she literally worhsips her parents. she's wore mothers wedding dress to her own wedding. her uncle(dads brother) walked her down the aisle holding a framed photo of her dad. she almost refused to walk during her university graduation because her parents couldn't be there, despite the years worth of hardwork and dedication she put into it.

mary(janes wife) was janes bestfriend in highschool. it was one of those crazy homoerotic female friendships. they were eachothers first kiss even when they thought they were straight ("oh lets practice kiss for our future bfs!").

my idea of ben kinda combines the idea of ben the kid who drowned, and BEN the experiment to put souls into a digital afterlife. ben bought majoras mask from some creepy neighbor at a garage sale, and the neighbor had like. this completely absurd theory that he could put himself into a game or something. so he ended up tricking several kids into buying the same majoras mask cartridge, killing them after they beat the game together, and their souls DID get trapped in the cartridge but it didnt do much for his theory... WHICH MEANS that BEN is a culmination of several people, kids and teens raging from like 7-19, but the ben we know is sort of like.. the only one who escaped the cartridge (he was the last one killed and the reason the man got caught for murder)? but he was stuck in said cartridge for about like 7 years before he was 'reawoken' so traces of others souls are in him. ITS REALLY COMPLICATED it makes sense in my head but idk. he has a lot of identity issues that come packed with having his childhood stolen from him.

he's so close to sally because he relates to her on that level. while their trauma was different, being a kid taken advantage of and fucking murdered is insane. despite coming from completely different time periods (sally died in the 1900s, ben died in the 2000s), ben can only find himself truly relating to sally on an emotional level. sure, him jeff and toby can laugh and play video games and wrestle and stuff, but sally is the only one who can even begin to understand what it's like to be a dead kid.

sally and ben kinda make a lot of comments about humans and stuff LOL. most of it is in the 'you ungrateful pieces of shit you THREW AWAY YOUR LIFE' but sometimes it's something more bittersweet. 'you lived to adulthood, you have so much, you can do so much, please keep going, there's so much left for you, don't let it go' etc etc. they can sometimes be the wisest in their perspectives of life, death, mortality. but theyre both so bitter and traumatized and hurt but it that it's mostly overshadowed by envy. that's why the two of them can be so close, even if they dont really sit and like.. philosophize about life. lmfao

ben has gotten into several like police and governemnt systems and removed so many cctv footage of everyone getting in trouble, or even wiped their shit from systems. he is like the main reason none of them are in jail unironically.

jeff is the only one who truly enjoys murder. he's a sadist at heart and has a fetish for all this blood and guts. toby and natalie did have their own periods in life where they killed for relief/as a power trip(toby only ever did it under orders, natalie took some sleezy guys home from bars). the rest of them either aren't killers, or don't do it by choice (brian and tim).

i was gonna ramble about nina next but im kinda embarrassed that i just spoke so much about them BAHAHAH OK THANKS ANON

#chatterbox #hcs #creeped #ummm #creepypasta #ticci toby #clockwork #jane everlasting #jane richardson #ben drowned #natalie oullette #asks

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snowmist-hashira · 9 months

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Hey can i request a little after school hangout with Muichiro and yuichiro 🤭 like they finally got the courage to ask reader to go out w them after school (mainly yuichiro making mui do it bc yui is embarrassed (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)) and they go and get ice cream and reader js feeds them or something (sorry im js obsessed with the new official art, and im sorry if this is messy im not the best at explaining (⁠´⁠-⁠﹏⁠-⁠`⁠；⁠))

[Chapter title: Melting Hearts]

[Requested] Tokitou Twins x Reader

Wattpad:(One shots) Tokito Twins x Reader Archive:Kimetsu No Yaiba: Tokitou Twins x Reader Details: ♠ Information ♠ Master list: ♠ Tokitou Twins ♠ Word Count: 1,156

Artist: なつ一 [natyuiti_haru]

Links; Twitter

Pfft, Yui is so damn cute-... I totally enjoyed writing this one, and I think exploring categories like this with the twins isn't so bad (as long as it's not entirely poly). I can imagine them reacting this way if they both developed feelings for the same person. Anyways, I hope this ice cream scene turned out well enough! Let me know your thoughts, Muikitoo~ Tags: @aeolia18 / @demonslayeranimex / @thornrosekaori / @xaeoism / @cascadingleaves (Scheduled)

The school bell then rang, signaling the end of classes for the day, the classroom quickly filled with the noise of shuffling papers, scraping chairs, and chattering students. Some students hurriedly packed their bags and rushed out the door, eager to start their afternoon activities. Others stayed behind, taking their time to organize their belongings.

"Ugh, this heat is unbearable," Yuichiro complained, loosening his necktie to give his neck some relief.

"You're right, nii-san." Muichiro nodded, using his uniform sleeve to wipe the sweat from his forehead, "how about we grab some ice cream?”

Before Yuichiro could respond, Muichiro's gaze shifted to Y/n, who was sitting a few chairs away, packing her belongings into her bag. "We could invite Y/n to come with us," Muichiro suggested.

Yuichiro flinched at the suggestion, not because he was against the idea, but because he had never found the courage to ask Y/n out, despite both twins clearly admiring her.

"You don't want to?" Muichiro teased, a mischievous grin forming on his lips as he playfully looked at his older twin.

Yuichiro's eyes twitched in response, and he turned away, avoiding his brother's gaze. "You go ask her then," he replied, trying to hide his nervousness behind a nonchalant tone.

"Ah… You're shy for no reason, nii-san…" Muichiro muttered, his words audible enough for the older twin to hear. But before Yuichiro could react, Muichiro walked up to Y/n and gently tapped her shoulder.

Muichiro tapped Y/n's shoulder making her turn to face him with a curious expression. "Hey, Y/n," Muichiro began, trying to sound casual.

“Oh hey, Mui.” Y/n smiled warmly, “what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong at all,” Muichiro replied, returning her smile. “Actually, nii-san and I were thinking of grabbing some ice cream to cool off from this scorching heat. Would you like to join us?”

Y/n's eyes lit up with excitement at the invitation. "Oh, that sounds like a great idea! I'd love to come along," she happily accepted.

Yuichiro, who was trying his best to eavesdrop on their conversation, couldn't help but glance over at the exchange, though he had wanted to invite Y/n himself, he couldn't muster the courage to do so.

Outside the school building, the sun was relentless, making the asphalt feel like a frying pan. However, the prospect of ice cream made the heat more bearable as they headed towards the ice cream truck parked just outside the school gate.

"Look at all the options they have!" Y/n exclaimed, her eyes scanning the menu on the side of the truck. "I'm having a hard time deciding."

Muichiro smiled, "Well, we can each get a different flavor and share them. That way, we get to taste more varieties," he proposed, mischief dancing in his eyes.

So, they did. There was a bench conveniently placed near the stationed ice cream truck, and the three of them settled down there. Y/n sat comfortably in the middle, flanked by the twins on either side. The cold, creamy ice cream brought instant relief from the scorching heat as they continued to enjoy their treats and each other's company.

"You're quite the fan of mint flavor, huh?" Y/n remarked, glancing at Muichiro, who was enjoying his mint ice cream.

Muichiro playfully teased, "Are you jealous? If you want, you can have a taste, Y/n."

Curious about the mint flavor, Y/n scooped a small spoonful from Muichiro's ice cream cone and tasted it. As she did so, Muichiro couldn't help but pout slightly, expecting her to take a bite directly from his cone. Yuichiro observed the scene and furrowed his brow, wondering what his mischievous younger twin was up to.

In that moment, a mischievous idea crossed Muichiro's mind. "Y/n~" he called, his tone playfully enticing. "Can I taste yours?" He asked, a sly grin forming on his lips. Yuichiro, on the other hand, gave his younger twin a wary look with a mix of curiosity and concern.

“Oh, sure.” Y/n replied, Muichiro then playfully snatched Y/n's spoon and took a spoonful of her ice cream, he made sure to make it look casual, but he had a mischievous glint in his eyes. Unbeknownst to Y/n, the spoon he used had made contact with his mouth, resulting in an indirect kiss.

Y/n didn't seem to notice anything unusual and continued eating as if nothing had happened. However, Yuichiro, who was watching the whole exchange closely, felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment and surprise.

Although it was all in good fun, Yuichiro couldn't help but feel a mix of amusement, awkwardness and a bit of jealously at witnessing the indirect kiss between Muichiro and Y/n.

Moreover, it seemed like Muichiro was subtly teasing his older brother for not being able to take the initiative with Y/n. After all, Yuichiro had hesitated even in inviting her to a simple hangout. A subtle smirk graced Muichiro's lips as he glanced at Yuichiro, making it clear that he found the situation amusing.

This somewhat irked Yuichiro, he mustered the courage to express his bold thoughts, his heart raced with anticipation. He softly exhaled, trying to calm his nerves as he looked into Y/n's eyes.

"Y/n, I'd like to try it too," he said, his voice filled with a mix of nervousness and determination.

Y/n seemed a bit taken aback by his request, but she nodded and handed him the spoon. However, before she could react, Yuichiro surprised her by gently taking her hand that was holding the ice cream cup. He leaned in a bit, his heart pounding in his chest, and boldly took a lick directly from the cup.

“…!”

Yuichiro looked up at Y/n, his eyes locked with hers, and he saw a hint of surprise and a glimmer of something else he couldn't quite put into words. He gently released her hand, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement coursing through him.

The atmosphere around them seemed to shift, and a moment of awkward silence followed Yuichiro's bold gesture. As both Muichiro and Y/n's eyes widened in surprise, the atmosphere around them became momentarily tense. Muichiro's playful expression turned into a slight frown, his brows furrowing as he processed the unexpected intimacy between his brother and Y/n.

On the other hand, Y/n remained completely oblivious to the shift in the mood. Her cheerful demeanor and lack of reaction made it clear that she had not fully grasped the significance of the moment.

"Y/n! Feed me." Muichiro boldly demanded, a hint of jealousy apparent in how his older twin, Yuichiro, acted, taking matters to another level while Muichiro held back.

"Wha-?!" Yuichiro widened his eyes at the sudden declaration, seemingly realizing that his younger twin was competing for Y/n's attention.

"Huh? You two are going to finish off my ice cream at this rate. Get your own," Y/n said, frowning at the twins. The two couldn't help but sweat drop at Y/n's obliviousness to their obvious infatuation.

‘Y/n, that wasn’t the point…’

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hoperays-song · 10 months

Text

Sing 1 Commentary and Review Pt. 1

Like I said yesterday, I will be giving commentary through out the run of the movie here! Is this an elaborate plan to distract me from my fic being with my beta reader? Yes! Am I using it for content? Also yes! I will try to remember to include timestamps and screenshots. But probably will just end up doing screenshots most of the time, sorry. Welcome to the madness!

(There will be multiple parts because these take a while and also there's a limit of thirty photos per post so yeah. I got 9 minutes in? I talk a lot during movies ok? It's an AuDHD thing.)

----------------------------

I feel like now is as good of a time as any to mention that I despise minions (aka was forced to watch Despicable Me in art class way too much as a child). So yes, we're not even past the opening credits and I'm already complaining, welcome to watching a movie with me everyone.

Ok just noticed this for the first time, but Old Moon Theatre had lyres (a symbol of Apollo, the Greek god of music) and grape vines (a symbol of Dionysus, the Greek god of theatre) on it, which is just super cool!

I love the fact that Buster canonically talks to himself and narrates his own life. Like same bestie. Love this for you. You're in your delusion era rn but go for it mate.

Lesbians!!

(No I will not be taking criticism here. That pose is one of the gayest things I have ever seen and I just looked in a mirror.)

HE HAS APPEARED!!!!!

Ok three things. One, these cops appeared out of literally no where. Like we just did a circle around the boy and we did not see them. Can they teleport or something???

Also, two, what the hell is in that box? I'm typically not one to judge what random stuff you leave in an alley (yes, yes I am, but to be fair this is the cleanest alley I've ever seen), but is that just a box of cut up springs??

And for number three, you thought you heard someone singing??? You thought you heard someone singing and only spare one glance down the alley behind the bank during a spree of bank robberies??? Ok no, these cops are terrible. The bank being robbed is absolutely their fault, what the hell?!

Ooooo, eight ball keychain!!!

I mean... Johnny did warn them, ten seconds too late, but he did warn them. He's still absolutely grounded but you know, he tried. Also, I just realized they took the license plate off the truck for the robbery. Insanely smart. The best boys. I love them.

✨ 🎶He's a runner, he's a track star! 🎶✨

Also, apparently Johnny can catch up with a accelerating truck... ok then.

Glad to see this skill that I'm absolutely sure will be used again in the multiple other applicable scenarios. What was that? It never comes up again? Yeah, that seems about right.

Ok, how the hell have the not found these guys yet??? Like the rest of the gang are in disguises, horrible ones but still disguises, but Johnny wears the exact same clothes throughout the movie and is not hiding his face in the slightest. You're telling me no one, not a single person, recognized him???

Also, just how many vintage trucks are in this town? Like just look up the truck model and go down the list of all the one's owned in Calatonia. Boom, done. The police in this place suck at their jobs.

ROSITA!!!!

Ok, so the piglets are definitely around first grade judging by the alphabet and number chart on the wall. Also, a learning chart on the wall is so cute and sweet, I love it!

(Theory) So... we can all agree it's summer right? Because not only are Johnny and Meena home (ok Meena's home, Johnny's being a felon, but that's not important) at lunch time but so are the piglets. They for sure aren't in school yet. And yeah, I know they leave with backpacks later on but that could just be daycare (it's likely daycare). So, since a lot of daycares aren't open on weekends (or at least ones near me), Sing 1 starts in the summer on a weekend! That's cool!

Awwww Rosita. I'm so sorry honey. I love you, we all love you, and I wish I could say you have a normal, relaxing life after this movie but... I'm sorry. Not even close to one.

Ok wow, forgot how vertigo inducing this movie was. Wow.

Ash has arrived!!!!

Also, super interesting how Ash's guitar looks a lot more worn that Lance's. It has scratches and faded stickers while Lance's looks shiny and new here.

And Lance... ewww.

Fair man, fair.

And before people get on to my man Harry for kicking them out without pay by the looks of it, most restaurant gigs I know of are not paid, the musicians get tips and exposure, and I'm pretty sure there is not one single person in that restaurant soo... yeah. They weren't getting paid either way.

One of the best expressions all movie.

I'm gonna punt him. I don't care that he's been on screen for 10 seconds, I'm gonna punt him.

(Moments where Lance is puntable counter: 4)

And now we have everyone!!! Meena, welcome aboard!

Also that cake looks amazing. ...Hold up, I'm getting lunch.

Ok, I'm back! Let's dive back in to my lovely ramblings that are hopefully semi entertaining.

Oh boy, let's talk about the happy birthday scene. For one, Meena is a kid. Stop being mean to a kid.

For another, the rest of her family just stops singing??? Like excuse me, that's not how the happy birthday song works. I don't care if one of the singers is a grammy winner, you don't stop singing just to listen to them. It is a group effort. Either everyone sings or no one does. It's the birthday song rules people. They really put her on the spot here and I do not appreciate it, the poor baby.

So, Meena has tried out for choirs and bands before but it never worked out. That makes me think her social anxiety is not new and I am very much disappointed with her grandfather's perspective on it.

Oh great. He's here.

(Mike puntable moments counter: 1)

Their money must be different than ours since that is the design of a penny.

Also: (Mike puntable moments counter: 2)

OK. This is a straight up mugging. Why is no one doing anything?! Like excuse me?!?!?

Oh and now he gave the guy an asthma attack. Sod off Mike.

Why is everyone siding with the mouse man?????? He sucks??? Hello????

(Mike puntable moments counter: 5)

Ok, ignore the monkey man for a minute. The restaurant is legit named 'The Squids'. So do they own it? Do they work there? Was the founder a squid? What's the situation because I'm guessing the don't eat them since they are sentient.

For such a fancy restaurant, they have terrible taste in lighting decor. I'm pretty sure those are the same ones at my doctor's office.

Oh Eddie, my favourite trust fund baby of the series. It's so good to see you.

Ok, let's talk about the implications of what Eddie is saying here. He says that his dad has been paying for the shows. And Buster's theatre has been struggling for way more than one or two shows.

And I don't know about you guys but I personally wouldn't pay for my adult kid's friend's failing theatre more than once if it turned out to be a bust. It's a waste of money and have you seen today's economy. Now if that was my kid's partner? Different story. I would probably be more willing to pay for a few more for both of their sakes.

What am I saying here? Noodlemoon. They're dating. End of story. ----------------------------

I'll be right back with part 2!

(And 30 more screenshot taking up memory on my dying laptop.)

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jimblejamblewritings · 2 years

Text

the imprint or the blood singer | part 7.

Summary: Y/N Black. All about La Push. Shy girl unless you get to know her. Not one to make friends easily despite the fact that she very well could. Friends with her brother’s friends until one Bella Swan comes back to town.

Warnings for the Series: light violence, light smut

Pairing: Edward Cullen x reader, Embry Call x reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Previous Part | (Series Masterlist)

It was the fourth day Embry hadn’t shown up for art class. Or eaten lunch with you guys. Or answered your texts. You weren’t sure what the problem was. When you went over, Ms. Call told you she was worried too but a visit from your father assured her that it was just mono. However, she warned you to get tested just in case he passed it to you.

Ms. Call was going to her book club but agreed that you could come over to give Embry some soup. You were worried about your friend, boyfriend. You used the spare key to let yourself in.

If Embry was as sick as the mono was making him out to be, you didn’t want him to get up just to answer the door. You set down the soup in the kitchen, confused when you heard laughter and noise. How loud did Embry have the television?

It wasn’t the TV you saw when you entered the living room. It was four shirtless men with short hair, laughing at something. One of them being Embry.

“So much for the mono. You roll with Sam Uley now? Think it’s cool to ditch classes now?”

All of them looked up at you, clearly not expecting anyone to be there.

“(Y/N)?” Embry asked. He made a move to stand up but one of the guys, you recognized as Paul, grabbed his arm.

“And you have a tattoo?” You looked at the arm that Paul grabbed.

“And I thought I was being a good girlfriend bringing you soup and everything. I knew I should’ve stayed away like Dad asked.”

“I thought you said she was chill,” Jared piped up.

Embry knew you were offended at that and Sam gave Jared a look to shut up.

“She is, let me talk to her.”

Paul let go of Embry.

“(Y/N/N)…” Embry stopped as he looked you in the eye.

The other boys grumbled.

“Of course everything works out in his favor,” Paul muttered.

“Embry?”

He quickly snapped out of his thoughts and strolled over to you.

“I really was sick a couple days ago. I’ll explain it soon, Sam’s been helping me.”

You looked at Sam and back to Embry. Something made you feel safe with him. He must’ve been telling the truth, you could feel the increased body temperature. He was probably still fighting off whatever it was.

“It’s like Edward,” you whispered.

“Edward?”

At the mention of a Cullen name, Embry started to shake slightly. He had forgotten they were your friends. The thought of any of them near you made him sick. He only calmed down when Sam abruptly called out his name. Embry centered himself back on you.

“He had some secrets,” you tried to phrase it in a way to keep your friend’s secret. “Weird things I had to accept on a strictly need-to-know basis… is this a need-to-know, Em?”

“Yeah, need-to-know. And I promise you’ll know all soon, once I’m better.” Embry kissed you on the cheek. “Go home now, (Y/N/N).”

“You’re sick and you still kiss me? Your mother was right, I’m gonna need a mono test.”

All the boys laughed. Embry went to kiss your other cheek, you tried and failed to avoid him.

“Quil keeps asking about you. I think he likes you, Bells.” Jacob was putting the finishing touches on the motorcycles.

“Quil’s not exactly my type,” Bella said.

You caught the side eye she gave Jacob and the small smile on Jake’s face. You were wondering when one of them was going to step up to the plate and ask the other out. Jacob tested the motorcycles and once he was satisfied, started loading them up in the back of Bella’s truck. You slid into the back seat so the two of them could talk up front.

“What would you have said if I told you I couldn’t fix the bikes?”

“Hmm?”

“I just… maybe if I was smart I would’ve dragged out the project.”

“I would’ve just found something else for us to do,” Bella said, matter-of-factly. “Besides, I think (Y/N) would like her car finished.”

“Um, yes, (Y/N) would,” you said from the back.

“Is that Sam Uley?” Bella asked as she drove along the bridge.

Jacob scoffed. “Yeah. Him and his cult.”

Bella stopped the truck abruptly, almost making you slam into the back of Jacob’s seat. “Oh my God! Did you see that?”

You and Jacob started laughing.

“They’re not fighting, Bella,” Jacob explained. “They’re cliff-diving. It’s scary as hell but a total rush. Most of us jump from the lower cliffs. Leave the showing off to Sam and his disciples.”

“Is there some kind of beef with them or something?”

“Not really, they just think they run this place. Embry used to call them hall monitors on steroids and now look at him.”

You felt bad. Embry still didn’t hang around Jacob, never came to your house anymore. You only got calls and texts from him. It made you feel like you were in some period piece, only able to communicate through letters. Like no one was yet allowed to know of your secret affair.

You figured he was still in the need-to-know stage so you dropped it and agreed not to tell Jacob you were still with him. But you didn’t like seeing your brother hurt at the thought of losing his friend.

“That’s Embry? What happened to him?” Bella asked.

“Missed some school, all of a sudden we see him following around Sam like a lost puppy. Same thing with Paul and Jared. And Sam keeps giving me these looks…like he’s waiting for me or something.”

You looked at your brother confused. He didn’t tell you that Sam was watching him. You might’ve been on a need-to-know with Embry but you still didn’t like Sam.

“Well, just try to avoid them if you can.”

“I try.”

The three of you piled back into the truck and kept driving to an empty stretch of road. Jacob easily lifted the motorcycles out the truck. If you didn’t spend so much time with him, you would think Bella’s jokes about Jake being on steroids were true. You stood in the bed of Bella’s truck and watched as Jacob explained the motorcycle to her.

You cheered hard for your friend until she gained a little too much speed and flew off the bike, hitting a rock. You quickly jumped out of the truck and ran with Jacob to check on her. Jacob took off his shirt and began gently dabbing at the blood on her forehead.

“What are you looking at?”

“You’re kind of beautiful,” Bella said without much thought.

“How hard did you hit your head?”

“Hey Jake,” you started. “No more death contraptions.”

You and Jacob pulled up outside of the theater in your newly fixed up vintage Volkswagen Beetle, meeting Mike and Bella. Bella invited Jake who asked if you could come. You invited Embry who turned it down when he discovered it wouldn’t just be the two of you. Bella was glad to have you along as a distraction for Mike once she found out all the others couldn’t come: Jessica bailed, Angela was sick so Eric was taking care of her.

“So Face Punch?” You asked, looking at the ticket.

“It’s supposed to be really good.”

“I’ll take your word for it, Mike,” you said unconvinced. “Let’s get popcorn.”

The movie was awful and after countless UFC Nights at Embry’s, the fighting wasn’t even that good. The only good thing that seemed to come from it was Bella leaning her head on Jacob’s shoulder. The movie had maybe thirty minutes left when Mike suddenly got up claiming he was going to throw up. The three of you looked at each other before getting up to check on him.

“What a marshmallow,” Jacob laughed as you guys headed to the stairs to wait for Mike.

“(Y/N), hold out for someone with a better stomach. A man who laughs at the gore instead of vomits.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, Jake. But Mike wasn’t looking at me.”

At your words, you watched Bella slip her hand into Jacob’s. Mike finally met you guys.

“Well I need to go home, I’m feeling a bit sick… what’s your problem man?”

Mike confronted Jake who was chuckling under his breath. Something about Mike’s tone set Jacob off and you knew it. Normally he would brush something like that off but his face changed.

“Now? You’re my problem. You feel sick, need to go to the hospital? Maybe I should put you in the hospital.” Jacob stood up.

Bella quickly put herself in between the two of them. “Jake, Jake the movie’s over. Woah, Jake you’re really hot like burning up.”

Jacob looked like he was suddenly aware of where he was.

“I don’t know what’s happening…I’ll see you later Bella, come on (Y/N), let’s go home.”

Jacob pulled you by the hand and Bella was right. He was burning up, just like Embry.

Billy told you it was mono, the same type Embry had. The same type you figured out Paul had. And Jared and Sam. You told that same story whenever you hung out at Bella’s house telling her it was mono. You never hung out at your garage anymore, the boys— who had opened up more to you— asked you not to in case she saw Jacob. You were in the living room when Jacob handed you the pair of scissors to cut his hair and when he got a tattoo. You watched how Jacob pushed everyone away and felt grateful that whatever had you in with Sam’s gang, kept your brother attached to you.

(Part 8)...

#edward cullen x reader #edward cullen x black!reader #embry call x reader #embry call x black!reader #twilight fic

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redheadspark · 2 years

Note

A halloween party and “I’d let you haunt me all night long.” with benny bridgerton please (maybe a modern au like the last one?) thank you 💞

A/N: Awww, I can picture Benedict using this line for certain! Thanks for the request, anon!

Divine

Summary: The Bridgertons knew how to throw a great party, and you were beyond lucky to be personally invited by one of them.

Warnings: Nothing but cute fluffiness

You have never seen a party like this before. Ever.

The Bridgerton family was known to throw some of the best parties in town, even people came from other counties and even out of state to attend these balls and events. They were mostly held for charities, the elite families coming to both contribute to the charities and have their seen faces at a Bridgerton Party. They were a massive family in the eyes of the wealth, all of the children were vastly known in their fields and they were a tight knit unit of siblings. So when Benedict Bridgerton, the second eldest child and upcoming popular artist, asks you to come to his Halloween Party as his date, you were shocked.

His younger sister Daphne was your roommate your freshman and sophomore year in college, she introduced the pair of you when you drove her home one weekend when her car broke down. Benedict met you at the front door, fingers a bit stained in paint and charcoal marks as you two said hello to one another. You noticed the color of his eyes that were bright and almost mischievous with a hint of kindness, even being in an old shirt that had paint marks along the sleeves and collar. It shocked you to see one of the infamous Bridgerton children dressed in such a way, though Daphne dressed down a bit too when she would go to class. You heard stories about Anthony and his tough male persona, Colin and his traveling adventures, even of Eloise and her thirst for knowledge and literacy.

But with Benedict, he was more of a mystery since he wasn't more in the public eye compared to his siblings. He immediately was intrigued with you, you both striking up a conversation at his home for at least and hour while Daphne was waiting for the two truck to call her about her car. He was rather funny, his charm was no less evident and you fell under his spell because of it.

A few days came and went, you running into Benedict when he was on his way to an even art class while you were going to get coffee. Benedict liked beyond happy to see you again, you both talking for a brief moment before he asked for your number to stay in contact with you. The texts you two would exchange with one another were cordial and sweet, Benedict knowing you were a full time student and you worked part time at the local college bookstore.

But you two did text and even met up every once in awhile to catch up. Benedict was a breath of fresh air in your life, but you were very surprised that he wanted to invite you to his family's Halloween ball that was held at their lake house.

Thankfully, Daphne was excited you were going to come when she got heard of Benedict's invitation to you. She immediately helped you picked out the best outfit, which was not a costume thankfully. It was more a semi-formal event, you having a maroon dress that was both modest and yet perfect for the Halloween party along with a leather jacket . After Daphne helped you put on your makeup and got your hair in loose curls, you both drove together to the house.

The was filled with people, mostly those you knew were family friends and those part of the high society circles. But it was still a great party, food and treats filled to the brim on the massive tables with no signs of running out of food, the dancing was held outside on the terrace near the docks that lead to the lake with a decent DJ playing, even some of the people you knew from college were there. It made sense since they could have been friends with the other Bridgerton siblings.

You and Daphne were weaving in and out of the crowds inside the house, most of whom were a bit older and probably fiends with Mrs. Bridgerton. But Daphne reassured you that most of the younger crowd was outside, so you followed her not knowing where to go.

"Ah! Finally!" You both sighed in relief as you got outside. The massive lake out in front of you was beyond beautiful, the twinkling porch lights were almost mingled in with the stars that were coming out as the big backyard had a younger crowd scattered across the grounds.

"There you are! We were wondering when you were going to come, Daphne!" You looked to see Anthony walking over with a woman on his arm, a beautiful young woman who looked elegant in her dress.

"We were running late, sorry!" Daphne explained to her older brother while she gestured to you, "I had to get her ready for Benedict."

"Daphne!" You hissed, though Anthony chuckled.

"Ah, this is the lovely lady who stole our brother's heart." Anthony hummed, giving you a small smile, "Both my sister and brother speak highly of you, for different reasons of course,"

"Oh come on, Anthony," The lovely lady on his arm scolded him as she gave you a kind look, "Pay my mind to my fiancé. Sometimes his mouth gets the best of him,"

"Oh honestly!" Daphne huffed, taking your arm, "Let's get a drink and have some fun. I apologize for my family, they're a bit....eccentric."

"I happen to like your family," you countered back with a smirk as she took you both over to one of the refreshment tables that had a variety of drinks. You grabbed a cider beer while Daphne went for a cocktail, "They are all quite a great bunch really. Though, if I'm honest they are odd too,"

Daphne laughed, though you heard a voice behind you as you were taking a drink from your beer.

"That's quite a tame way of putting it,"

You coughed a bit, Daphne whirling around and gasping in shock, "Benedict! Why would do sneak up on us like that?"

You were coughing a bit more, needing to place the cider you were drinking on the table and catching your breath. It was hard to breathe for a moment as you felt hands on your arms and someone come in front of you as you were coughing a bit more, your lungs burning and you felt beyond embarassed.

It didn't help that it was Benedict that was in front of you, his face etched in concern.

"Hey, you okay? I'm sorry, here, take some water, alright?" He asked, handing you a water bottle that was on the table. He unscrewed the top for you, your shaky hands taking it and finally taking a long drink. Benedict was watching you the whole time, his eyes trained on yours with no sign of looking away. You felt bit better as the water was going down you throat, the coughing was long gone.

"I'm...I'm okay," you replied in a soft manner, Benedict finally grinning as you took in his own attire. Slim jeans with a dress shirt rolled to the sleeves, a waist coat over the shirt and his hair pushed to the side. Although your lungs were burning from your coughing, you were still taken a back from how attractive Benedict looked.

"You sure you're okay?" He asked, you nodded in silence as he sighed, "I'm very sorry. I didn't know you were having a drink and I thought you heard me waking up behind you--"

"Well you could have make yourself more known, now could you?" Daphne barked at him as he was abut to argue back at her when you place a hand on his arm to get his attention. His eyes went back to you as you gave him a reassuring smile.

"It's okay, I swear I'm alright now," You said to him kindly, "You just surprised me is all,"

"Thank goodness," Benedict replied, looking relieved himself as Daphne took her cocktail in hand again as she eyed her brother and then you. Almost like she knew something else that was going on between you two without either you or Benedict knowing it yourselves. A small smile was there, and you knew Daphne well enough to now that the smile she had meant her brain was turning.

"Well, in that case, I shall leave you two to it as I go find my mother and congratulate her for the party," Daphne said to the pair of you, leaving before you would argue with her. Finally, you were left alone with Benedict whom looked rather amused.

"How about we walk around and enjoy the party?" Benedict suggested, you nodding in agreement as you grabbed your cider and follower Benedict. He went into step with you as you both were waking together while the rest of the party outside of the house was going on, "I'm quite glad you are here, actually. The party was turning out to be a bore inside with my mothers friends and they were all questioning me about my artwork and showcase in the spring,"

"They all seem lovely," You shrugged to him, though he chuckled.

"Yes, lovely but far too boring," He added, making you giggle, "Eloise had the bright idea of inviting some of the college crowd to this party. The rest of my siblings are in agreement that she had the best choice,"

"Thank you for inviting me, by the way," you said to him as you both were walking along the railing of the balcony, Benedict smiling at you as if you were the only person with him in the entire home. It felt that way, in your mind it did since it felt so easy to talk with Benedict and forget about the rest of the party around you, "I've only heard of these parties from Daphne,"

"Ah, well you have missed some of the lively talk that was going on amongst the college students that are here," Benedict explained, cocking his head over to the group of college students, "One of those guys even said, 'I'd let you haunt me all night long'. I mean, come on! That's no pick up line!"

"And you can do better?" You asked him, almost challenging him and feeling a bit bold about it. Benedict just grinned and thought for a posit moment before you both stopped near the railing. He gestured to the moon that was bright and high above the lake. Maybe it was the mood of the party and that had some glamour and the tint of the moon hitting you both just right, or simply the fact that you had Benedict to yourself and it was something you've been dreaming about for quite some time since you met him. But it felt like you were on pins and needles to hear what he had to say, only thinking that he was going to be playful about since you two were merely friends.

"The constellations are pale in comparison to the mere image of the one who holds my heart," He recited, almost like a love sonnet to you and he looked at you solely in the eyes. Your breath was last, nowhere to be found as he was holding his gaze on you and searching your eyes with his own. Was it a trick of your mind, to think that he was honest in saying that about you? Or was he just being coy himself and merely playing along with the pick up line. Either way, it did feel like it was directed solely to you, and you felt your stomach doing flips and your eyes going a big big.

Benedict must have picked up on your reaction, since he reached over to take your spare hand in his own and he kept his eyes on you. You felt the heat of his fingers, the smoothness of his skin from working with paint and needing to wash his hands far too many times, and it felt like a brand new sensations for you to dive into. You both were lost in on another moment after moment, and then Benedict swirly cleared his throat.

"Although I must admit, I do like the ghost pick up line better," He said to you with a hint of shyness. The pair of you laughed, not letting the other go as the party went on without you.

The End.

Halloween Prompts

#benedict bridgerton x y/n #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict x reader #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x female reader #benedict bridgerton imagine

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demonprodigy-kingofsheep · 1 year

Text

Lost in the cityscape, where I try to find you (part 1)

Dedicated to @originalartblog aka Nawy. Thank you for your arts, Nawy, I hope you know I come back to your teen skk everytime I have a rough day, for they cheer me up immensely.

Day 1

It had been mere minutes since eighteen year old Nakahara Chuuya had landed at the airport after a month-long mission in the west. And already, he had been assigned to his next one.

He stared at his driver incredulously through the rear view mirror of this newly purchased sleek red Mercedes, his fist tightening on the cream leather armrest.

“What do you mean Dazai has gone missing?”

The driver gave him an apologetic look. “I personally don’t know much about it, but Hirotsu-san asked me to pass on this message to you as soon as you arrived. The boss requests that you find Dazai-san immediately and try to bring him back to the headquarters. The Black Lizard unit is too occupied with a scuffle involving another organization, but either way, the Boss said that he trusts only you to find him.”

Chuuya frowned. Dazai going missing without a trace? Mori needing a word with him? This seemed a bit sketchy. Dazai might be lazy, but he was not the type to leave the mafia without any kind of intimation.

As a reflex, he automatically dialed Dazai’s number. His partner had some explaining to do.

“Bastard, pick it up,” he growled into his phone as it gave up after a series of full rings. Three times he had dialed Dazai and was met with silence, as if he was a world away. With a short huff, he slipped his phone inside the pocket of his black jeans.

Well, it wasn’t like that stupid guy answered his calls out of their missions anyway.

But still, he felt something off about it. “Stop near the headquarters and get down,” he told his confused driver. “I’ll take this car by myself.”

“But- but it’s my job to-”

“To listen to what I say. It’s my own car anyway, not the Mafia’s.” Chuuya softened his tone, “This mission might be too dangerous for you. Leave it to me and go help someone else.”

It was a lie. Searching for Dazai wasn’t supposed to be that difficult of a task, but he wanted to do that alone. Having unnecessary inputs from anyone would distract his intuition, and he wanted to focus to get this mission done soon.

The driver brought into his lie, though. After all, Chuuya did have a reputation of taking on the most dangerous missions. “Alright, as you wish,” he said.

Once the Chuuya got into the driver’s seat, he snapped on his seatbelts and drove straight to his destination, one that he knew existed but had never actively paid a visit before. “I’m gonna break his phone into pieces using his thick skull,” he grumbled as he steered using one hand, another checking the reception for a signal tracker in his phone. “It’s not like he needs it after all.”

Chuuya’s trip to the landfill that Dazai lived in was effortlessly smooth, thanks to his top-class luxury sedan. He had been more than happy to switch over to driving his own car recently rather than rely on the Mafia’s compromised chauffeur service, especially after the whole Verlaine incident. As a treat for surviving yet another year in the mafia, he had flipped through a few catalogs and splurged on the most expensive car in the showroom.

But now he had to step out of it, and the stench of the toxic dumping ground hit his nose like a truck. However, being a person who was used to stenches worse than that, he strode towards a lonely blue shipping container lit by the sun in the middle of an abandoned ground- the shipping container that Dazai called his home.

“Oi, Dazai,” Chuuya bellowed as he kicked the flimsy door open, “Stop ignoring me!”

The door fell off its hinges, its thud echoing throughout the empty darkness inside. Chuuya reached for the table lamp- guided by the pale, feeble light of the sun that streaked in through the gaping hole where the door had stood- and pulled on its cord, switching it on.

This was the first time he saw the condition Dazai lived in, and to say the least, he was shocked. An amber light threw the entire “room” into visibility. A desk stood, stacked with paper, the bed was bare and unmade with nothing but a thin blanket that probably did nothing against the cold. The room was bare, as soulless as the person who lived in it.

Chuuya faintly recalled Kouyou telling him how the environment a person lived in would be reflective of their personality. No wonder Dazai was depressed. Just standing in the room for a few seconds made Chuuya so claustrophobic that he wanted to puke.

What on earth was Dazai even thinking, living in a place like this?

However, there was no time to ponder over that. A good look around told him Dazai had clearly not been in the room for a while. He rummaged through the drawers- which were mostly empty except for a few handy tools- and the fridge, which was just stacked with canned crabs and sake. Chuuya grimaced. He grabbed a sheaf of paper and scanned through their contents. It was handwritten, by Dazai himself, something about some ‘Mimic’ and singularities. The rest of his handwriting was almost illegible, marred through criss-crossing lines and dots and more frustrated scribbling.

Chuuya confiscated those sheets. Despite the fact that only Mori might be able to decipher it, he judged it to be either a valuable clue to Dazai’s destination, or classified documents that risked discovery if they were here in Dazai’s absence.

A small beep from his phone made him look back. His phone picked up a strong signal from Dazai's transmitter, emitting from a location near the port. All the people in the mafia had transmitters implanted within them, for others to keep an eye out, for easy contact, and for bringing back bodies.

Dazai’s transmitter was still working.

Chuuya got into his car once again, chucked the bundle of papers in the back and twisted the key. “Wonder what ditch he had crawled into this time…” he murmured as he made his way, full speed, towards the location on the map.

The place Dazai’s transmitter sent signals from was down Yokohama Harbor. Ships were docked in a line, and the road traffic lessened due to noon. Chuuya parked his car and walked over to the area where the light pulsed in his phone, only to look up and see no one. The wooden platform next to the sea was empty, the fountain at the other side gurgling an empty song. His eyes scanned the nearby area till they landed on a dustbin.

“Oh, no way,” he cursed as he walked over, imagining Dazai’s wretched face laughing at him, as he peeked into the depths of the bin.

A smear of dried blood and a microchip lay buried amidst the tobacco stumps and crumpled paper cups.

Chuuya straightened and turned around, facing the wooden sidewalk and stainless steel railing that marked the start of the endless sea ahead.

For a second, a horrible thought settled into his mind.

What if…?

“No,” he said aloud to himself, firmly refusing to entertain even the possibility of that intrusive thought. “He’s alive. I know it. Cockroaches like him don’t die so easily.”

As if that lit a spark of denial within him, Chuuya looked around for a place to continue his investigation further. Fortunately, there was a stall selling boba tea not far away. While Chuuya was personally an espresso guy, he needed that information, plus he was hungry, so there was no time to be picky.

He strode to the stall and sat in one of the four chairs placed under an umbrella to shade him from the sun. The boy who ran the stall seemed quite happy to have a customer, for most of his potential customers were flocking to a new, air-conditioned stall nearby in the sweltering afternoon.

Chuuya didn’t even bother scanning through the menu. “Fix me up with whatever you’ve got the best,” he told the young boy, who looked perplexed but still nodded. Maybe he had never seen a customer act this way before.

As the boy was preparing his tea, Chuuya seized the opportunity to ask questions.

“Do you work here everyday?”

The young boy tilted his head. “Since the past week, yes. Couldn’t afford to pay fees for my professional swimming classes, so took this up as a part-time.”

“I see. So how’s your day going on?”

“Same old, same old. Winter has begun and there’s more crowd as the sun sets, so evenings are a little hectic.”

“Did you notice anything interesting recently? Anyone acting… a little off? Trying to jump into the ocean or something?”

The boy looked at him startled, almost dropping the cup he was about to hand Chuuya. “Do you mean, like, committing suicide?” he asked, eyes widening. “Did they find any bodies around here?”

“No, no. Nothing like that. I just thought a scene like that might make a job like this more eventful.”

A part of Chuuya was mildly relieved, but he knew it was child’s play for Dazai to slip away from the eyes of the crowd whenever he desired, so it was still not out of the question. Chuuya took the flask from him, reached into his wallet, and slapped a stack of money around ten times the price of the boba tea he brought.

“S-Sir,” the boy looked like he was about to faint, “This is too much-”

“Do me a favor, will you?” Chuuya said nonchalantly as he walked away towards the direction of his car. “I’ll be back in a few days. If you see a person wrapped in an ungodly amount of bandages, just let me know.”

—

The rest of the afternoon was a blur, with Chuuya making a quick trip to almost all of the Port Mafia bases scattered throughout Yokohama and inquiring about Dazai's whereabouts. As expected, no one had seen him since the past few days. But Chuuya did collect information about some events that had happened when he was absent, about a mafia underdog named Sakunosuke Oda who had apparently been dispatched to finish off the leader of an enemy organization named Mimic in exchange for the government recognizing Port Mafia as a legitimate, licenced gifted organization. Certainly a win for their side, despite the loss of life that occurred during the strife, including that of Oda’s. While this made sense of the papers he found at Dazai’s place, what he did not understand, however, was if the incident was related to Dazai and his disappearance from the Mafia.

Every lead was a dead end. It was frustrating, and Chuuya did not know what to make of the whole situation.

By midnight, he had exhausted all his immediate options in and around the city. Feeling heavy to the bone, he parked his car and dragged himself to a local bar, hoping that a bottle of whiskey would be enough to drown the day and all that came with it. He slumped into a chair next to the bartender and automatically placed his order, barely registering the words in his own head. His thoughts echoed a million questions; his feelings, about as composed as a rowboat tossed into the middle of an ocean tempest.

For three years now, he had wished and hoped a day would come when he and Dazai no longer needed to work as partners. The day when their intertwined fates would finally branch out into different directions. That day, he thought, would be the best day of his life.

Now that the day seemed to be here, he was a mess.

As the bartender placed his drink in front of him, one question screamed the loudest through the recesses of his brain.

Is he truly gone for good this time?

Chuuya paused, the drink halfway towards his lips. A beat of silence later, he dared to think of one more.

Am I truly free?

His eyes widened, lips now parted in the stark realization of the situation he found himself in.

Through the rush of anxiety and the stream of concern at the thought of Dazai lying dead in a ditch somewhere, he felt- to his utter horror- a twisted sense of relief.

No one will ever see through Chuuya as clearly as Dazai did. No one will predict his movements with such accuracy, plot insidious plans that assert control over him, dig into Chuuya’s past as a man-made vessel for a god, torment him with childish pranks, drive him into a fury with just their mere existence.

It also meant he could never use Corruption again. Not unless he was willing to die.

While that was technically a loss for the organization, it was nothing but another tick in a list of wins for Chuuya. He hated using Corruption- to give up control of himself to an otherworldly entity with no mercy towards friend or foe, relying solely on Dazai to bring him back and keep him alive, suffering from internal bleeding so bad that it took weeks for him to heal.

Never again.

A choked laugh bubbled up his throat. He downed the whiskey with trembling hands, slammed the glass on the counter, and looked up at the bartender. “Gimme a bottle of the most expensive wine in your collection,” he declared. “Tonight is a night to celebrate.”

The dim amber lights across the bar lulled him into a state where he could see past memories playing in front of his eyes in weirdly high definition. He remembered all the times he had cursed Dazai, telling him that he hoped that he’d die so that Chuuya would never have to look at his wretched face again.

How did he feel about his curses coming true?

Well, he only realized he had never really meant them in the first place after all.

Shame creeped into him for the words he had just uttered as the bartender placed a brown bottle of wine carefully on the counter. “A rare Petrus, 89,” the bartender said, “I hope it fits the special occasion.”

Chuuya had swiped his card and curled his fingers around its cool neck when the hair on the back of his neck stood as he picked up the shockwave- right before the sound of an explosion rang out right outside the bar.

Like everyone else, Chuuya involuntarily ducked under the table, hand covering his head as he did, but he was the first to recover. Noticing that their lives weren’t in immediate danger, he grabbed the nearest thing that could double as an extra weapon- the bottle of wine- and rushed out to meet the culprit, only to be greeted with the shattered, smoldering remains of his brand new luxury sedan.

Head swimming and ears ringing, Chuuya slowly approached what was left of his car. A single tire rolled towards him, bumping his leg before tumbling flat on the ground.

Chuuya stared at the tire for a long time, nostrils filled with smoke, barely registering the chaos around him. Never before had he felt this exhausted, ashamed, frustrated, and defeated in his life.

So he simply sat down on the broken tire, ripped the seal of the vintage Petrus, pulled open the cork using his teeth, and chugged down the hideously expensive wine right out of the bottle as he watched his car burn.

It was truly a celebration of a new low.

—

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sapphire-sans · 1 day

Text

You're in my Headspace!!

This is part two of my OMORI fanfic! Sorry I haven't been posting anything in a while, I've been busy and sort of forgot to post anything here. I MISSED KILLER AND INK'S BIRTHDAYS WTF-- Have some fanfiction instead of art lol!

TWO

Y/N:

We just finished

Unpacking everything.

When I got to my room,

I saw a boy staring at me

Through his window

In the house next to me.

I thought he was kinda cute.

I can’t wait

To meet my new neighbors.

I hope

We can be friends.

Mari:

The moving truck is gone,

And I see two adults.

It looks like there’s a small boy

Running around the front yard.

I haven’t seen the girl

In a while.

I’m beginning to worry

More and more

About Sunny.

He still hasn’t left his room…

Sunny:

I cannot wait

To meet this new girl.

I’ve watched her

From the comfort

Of my bedroom window.

Slowly

Building up courage

To go

And talk to her.

Even once

Would be fine

With me.

Hero:

Kel seems very excited

To meet this new girl.

I wouldn’t be surprised

If he soon became a simp

The moment he sees her :P

Kel:

Hero says that I have a problem

With trying to meet this new girl

Before school starts up again.

What if she’s not the same age as me?

What if she’s not in the same classes?

What if she doesn’t like me?

I can never know!

That is why

I have to take

As many chances

As I can get!!

Aubrey:

Mari told me

That the moving truck

Is gone.

She says

There’s a little boy

Running around

Their new neighbors’

Front yard.

I wonder:

How old is he?

Is he the same age

As Sunny?

I hope so,

So there’s another boy

For Sunny

To play with.

Basil:

I was chatting with Sunny

(or, really,

I did most

Of the talking).

And Mari told me

That Sunny

Might have

A crush

On this new girl.

There’s a weird feeling

In my stomach now

Every time I’m near him.

It’s as if my own brain,

Or even my heart,

Refuses to believe

He has a crush.

[ONE] [XX]

#omori #sapphire #nora #omori mari #omori basil #hero omori #omori aubrey #omori sunny #omori kel #omori poem #omori fanfic #omori fanfiction #fanfction #poems #poetry #poems on tumblr

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moonjxsung · 2 months

Note

ALSKDKDJF OKAYYY !!! I’m glad it’s not a bother !!! I overthink sometimes alskdkjf

urgh so I am having A WEEK :( I hope it’s okay I rant a bit … alslkskdj

helurf okay so after midterms last week, I’ve been trying to like relax and give myself time to rest but IVE HAD SO MANY ASSIGNMENTS :((( and I’m so tired and burnt out and stressed cause I need to start studying for finals and ahhhhhh alsksjjdjf :(

okay now for some more fun updates!! i had fun at uni yesterday!! we had a super fun soil science lab we got to go into soil pits on the farm our campus has and analyze soil (ph, diagnostic horizons, colour, structure, texture etc) !! It was a lot of fun I’m gonna miss the class and my prof :( (it was my last lab)

another fun thing is its art market week at my uni so time to drop a ton of money on prints, stickers and crocheted animals !!! :D

AND okay so I made it into a special like abroad research kinda program/course in like that’s usually only available to upper years students but somehow I made it in alskkskdjdj . Anyways, we get to go to South Africa from like May 14-June 9 to do research and stuff in the field!!! and like IM SO EXCITED??? So anyways, the 19 students that also made it in (it’s a highly competitive program to get into) we had our second group meet up plus our prof (who taught my favourite class by far last term) yesterday and it was a lot of fun and we got free dinner which was super super yum and I can’t believe I’m actually going ahhhhh

and then I went to a friends house for dinner (yes, dinner again) which was fun we like catch up at least once a month and yeah

Anyways sorry for the truck load of information about my life weh

HOW IS YOUR LIFE STAR!!! I WANNA HEAR ABOUT YOU!! (With whatever ur feeling comfy sharing 💗)

🌱

UGH I always forget how close together exam season is WHYYYY ARE UR FINALS ALREADY RIGHT AROUND THE CORNER….. 💔💔 I believe in you angel manifesting all the best for you frfr you’re smart I know you got this 🫶🫶🫶🫶

AHHHH UR UNI LAB SOUNDED SO FUN I love labs where you just get to go outside and do stuff in nature it’s fr so healing 👼 I took a geology course in college where we got to go to this creek near my school and like test the ph balance of the water and it was so much fun being outside instead of cooped up in the lecture hall fr one of the best labs we ever did. AND the art market this week???? RAHHH HAVE SO MUCH FUN we used to have something similar at my uni and I would drop SO much on stickers not even joking my laptop is covered in them still :’)

ALSO OH MY GOD??? TO THE STUDY ABROAD PROGRAM?????? STOP THAT SOUNDS SO FIXKIFNT FUNNNNN IM SO EXCITED FOR YOU WYAHWJDNRJ CONGRATS ON GETTING IN BB ‼️‼️ I didn’t have to do study abroad when I was in college bc covid hit but I can’t wait to hear all about yours and live vicariously thru ur updates AHHHH and it’s coming up so soon !! WOWOWOWOW HAVE THE BEST TIME ILY ILY THATS SO FUN

My day was honestly vvvvv boring but it was productive! I had work and then I had a shit ton of laundry to do but I was tired as fuck and I have cramps bc my period started today so I got coffee first to wake me up and then after cleaning the apartment I caught up on Ateez vlogs and now I’m simultaneously writing and watching Zelda gameplay 👼 I think my emotions are like ten times worse rn because of my period so I’m just taking it easy but I have a huge party to go to this weekend and a lot of my friends are gonna be there so I need to get my shit together and stop being sad bc I don’t want to bring the mood down ☹️ why do I always have a party in the same week I feel like shit LOL the last time I had one my situationship and I got into a huge fight and my sister had to be checking on me like every 5 minutes bc I was borderline crying the whole night it was so embarrassing 😭 (I am so tired of crying over this same girl oh my god)

ANYWAYS I LOVE U ANGEL IM SO HAPPY FOR YOU AND I CANT WAIT TO HEAR ALL ABOUT UR STUDY ABROAD TRIP RAHHH THATS SO EXCITING CONGRATS AGAIN ILY ILY 🩷💖💞💘💕💓👼

#🌱 anon #ask

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triune-god · 3 months

Text

i love public transportation and i live in los angeles which has a burgeoning system, so there’s bound to be kinks and learning curves. we weren’t lucky to get a great society metro, most of the city proper is single family housing outside of wilshire, dtla, and some properties in westlake area, and la was built with the car as the main resident within the city, so no matter what, public transpo & pedestrian oriented infrastructure will be an uphill battle. i will always applaud metro for /trying/, but it’s just frustrating sometimes.

i’ve been late to work & school more times than i’m comfortable with because the e line has no signal preemption so we have to wait at jefferson, pico, western, vermont, and crenshaw for four minutes each like a car and then we have to wait at the station for 10 minutes for some unexplainable issue. and then because of that, i miss my bus which wasn’t there anyway because of bunching and poor infrastructure so now there’s 100 people at the bus stop cramming into a bus to get to their jobs, but cars are clogging the roads and making it near impossible to travel more than 20 miles an hour for much of the trip there.

cars are the least efficient form of transportation known to man and one of the greatest cities on earth, my hometown, where i was born and raised, was not built for and will continue to denigrate humans and pedestrian alike. and, car drivers will continue to demean and fear monger about walking and public transportation. the suv & light truck arms race is turning thoroughfares which should have multitudes of modes of transport within and serve people into raceways where you can go 45 with no repercussions. right hand turns on red have nearly hit me more times than i have fingers.

i live in a city where we can afford to widen the 405 into oblivion and bloat lapd’s budget yearly and yet we can’t provide good enough infrastructure for angelenos?? this is a major policy failure and we are living with its effects. i’m so tired of living in a city built for the wealthy and for the vehicle. we need to change los angeles zoning codes, enforce rent caps, institute a low income rent moratorium, tear down the 110, 10, 710, 101, 405, and 210, institute a robust commuter rail system, publicize the railroads, remove eighteen wheelers as the primary mode of freight movement, expand heavy rail through urban core, increase density along metro corridors and use property taxes to pay for projects and maintain system, increase metro ambassadors, clean the cars, update the rolling stock, rebuild union station, create streetcar suburbs in la county, increase density in the suburbs, turn all boulevards and avenues into mixed mode thoroughfares, increase cycling network, create a statewide engineering and construction firm instead of outsourcing, produce american made rolling stock, create a high speed rail system, and turn cities back into thriving hubs of culture where we can afford rent, create art, live lives, move freely, build community, and live healthier, more fulfilling lives.

sorry for any typos, inconsistencies, or any oddities. i’m typing this while walking 25 minutes late to my public policy class.

#six speaks #public transit #la metro #amtrak official #urbanism #rant #american problems 💔#long post

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dontfeeltoohot · 2 years

Text

Autumn Snz Prompt Day 3 - Sick After Midterms - Teacher AU - Steddie

New AU! I honestly disliked this prompt, and wanted to find a way around dealing with a college AU, so this is what came out of it. I hope you enjoy!

The thing about midterms, is that every person worries about them, and all of the students come to school to take them, even if they’re sick. Which, in the middle of October, they definitely are. So not only does it spread germs to other students, it spreads them to faculty as well. This includes Eddie, who doesn’t even teach a damn core subject or have a real midterm.

He has a test, of course, making sure the eleventh and twelfth grade students in his theaters arts 3 and 4 classes are understanding the material. Kids who are in TA4 usually all pass any quiz or test he gives out, random or planned. He enjoys working with the kids, and enjoys that they’re the ones who are absolutely going to be actors and actresses for the rest of their life. 18 is a fun age, they have wit and snark, and are (mostly) done with excess hormones and bratty attitudes.

The last day before fall break, the last day of the teens midterms for the week, Eddie walks into his large room with a sore throat, aching head, fever, and a large to-go cup of coffee, generously given to him by his husband, who’s on his way to his own office near the gym.

Throughout the day, Eddie lets his dramatics take over. He and Steve have the same break period, but the guitarist stays at his desk when the last of his third period files out. His sinuses are aching, which makes his face throb. Blinking sluggishly, he’s not sure how long he stays hunched in his rolling chair until a hand is being placed onto his shoulder, causing Eddie to jump.

“Hey, I came to check on you,” Steve frowns.

The theater teacher wants to make a joke, say some witty line or lean in and kiss his husbands lips. Instead, he makes a small noise and rubs a hand down his face, turning to cough tiredly into his arm.

“How’re you feeling?”

Steve fusses with Eddie’s hair, then presses a cool hand to his too-warm face, making the older man let out a small whine. Usually, if he’s sick, he powers through, maybe makes a joke about how germy he is. Today he’s aware he’s unnaturally quiet and listless. He just doesn’t have the energy for much else.

“You’re burning up baby.”

“I feel like garbage,” Eddie grumbles, sniffling.

An itch blossoms in his sinuses, and he turns away, arm heavy as he pulls it to his face.

“iiGKtSCHew! IhKSHHuhew! ihhGtShh’EW! Fuck..”

“Bless you.”

The sneezes scrape at his throat, and when Eddie swallows, his ears tug painfully, uncomfortable in a way that makes him grimace. Chilled, he lets his head fall to Steve’s shoulder, before finally forcing it up again.

“I’m gonna get you sick.”

“Like I care? You should see yourself Ed’s. You look sick as hell. Two more classes and we’ll be home okay?”

Steve grabs a chair and sits with him the forty minutes they have left. Eddie starts drifting, head pillowed against his crossed arms on his desk. He wakes up when his husband jostles his shoulder lightly.

“Hey baby, you gotta wake up, the bell’s about to ring.”

Groaning, Eddie rubs at his face, giving Steve a hazy look.

“You going to be okay if I leave?”

“Yeah,” the long haired man croaks out, throat aching up into his ears.

Not very convinced, Steve hugs him tightly then heads back to the gym. Eddie leans back in his chair as his second half of theater four comes in, all looking at him worriedly. Eddie rolls himself to the front of the room, back to the stage they have protruding from the wall.

“Ok, listen up kiddos. I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck, eaten by Cerbus and spat back out. I have your test. Finish it, hand it to me, then do whatever the fuck you want, as long as it’s not loud and you can grab something to make it look like you’re working if Higgins comes in.”

All the kids nod. A few of them make sympathetic noises. Eddie has one of the kids, Will; his favorite, hand the test out. It’s quiet aside from the sounds of pens and pencils scratching against paper. Slowly, people start finishing, handing the test papers to him.

“They’ll be graded eventually, probably not for the first day back,” he adds, voice raspy after the last 18 year old hands the midterm in.

The students wince at how bad he sounds, his voice on its last leg. Sniffling, Eddie stands and coughs, shivering as he makes his way across the room to throw a few tissues away. As he starts back to his desk, the teacher's head starts swimming, and he fumbles, putting a hand on the wall.

“Woah, Mr. M, you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Eddie rubs his eyes and determinedly gets back to his chair, letting out a shaky breath once he’s got his head leaning back.

“Do whatever, just don’t make my headache worse.”

When the final bell rings, Eddie stays put, waving half heartedly to the teens. The door shuts with a click, and he’s alone, cheeks flushed red, nose pink, skin pale. He feels entirely too cold, body shaking as he stands, knowing he needs to get his things.

His classroom is completely cleaned up- Will and Max had taken it upon themselves to clean up everything that they could. Fumbling for his backpack, he picks it up and his arms feel like jello, unnaturally weak. Sniffling wetly, Eddie coughs into his arm and sluggishly goes to find Steve.

As he walks into the Hawkins High gym, he spots Jason and Chrissy arguing about something. The basketball and cheer coaches are flaring at each other and Eddie, who has to walk by them, wishes he could teleport instead. He’s always hated Carver, from middle school to now, but it’s been a deeper loathing since Chrissy broke up with him and the blonde decided to make everyone’s life a living hell.

The petite strawberry blonde stalks off in the opposite direction before Eddie passes, but he doesn’t get as lucky with Carver, who zeros in on him. Normally, the theater teacher would have some snarky one liner to direct at the jock, but he’s too tired, too sick, and as he brushes past the man, Carver moves and Eddie stumbles slightly into the wall.

“Watch where you’re going Freak.”

Eddie blinks at him, giving a tired cough into his arm. His head throbs as he does, and Jason stares at him with disgust on his face

“The only reason you’re even a teacher here is because Harrington is the Athletic Director, and he sweet talked the superintendent into ignoring the fact you used to sell drugs to kids, and the fact you failed senior year twice,” the coach sneers.

“Probably, now if you could move,” Eddie grumbles, really not in the mood to deal with more bullshit.

The thing is, he’s sure Carver is right. The first school Eddie had applied to, he’d been denied. Then the second. He’d sworn to himself in the beginning he wouldn’t work at Hawkins High, wouldn’t go back to the place he spent 6 years of his life in hell. But he needed a job, so he’d applied and then somehow been accepted. He’s sure his husband had everything to do with it, but he’s never brought it up, because at the end of the day, he’s still got a job, despite however he got it.

“You sick or something Munson? God you’re disgusti-“

“Hey Eds,” Steve walks out from the hallway that leads to everyone in the athletic departments offices.

“Steve, think your husband is sick, might wanna take him home,” Carver says tersely, eyes traveling over the both of him.

“Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m doing now, Jason. But thanks for the info. I’d also appreciate it if you’d not harass him,” Steve’s voice is clipped, and Eddie’s sure he uses the word harass to signify he can go to HR.

“See you after break,” the blonde growls, stalking away.

“You okay?”

Steve’s got his bag with him, keys around his wrist. Eddie nods and rubs at his face, swallowing. He just wants to go home.

“Can we leave?” His voice gives out at the last word, but he doesn’t bother trying to clear his throat, instead he just shuts his mouth and lets Steve lead him to the car.

At least they have the next three days off.

#autumnsnz22 #em #st #sh #my fic #all ‘teens’ in this are 18+#he teaches 12th grade and everyone is 18 #also no snz near any of them #bc EW

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beatupsteve · 2 years

Text

Dirtbag / Eddie Munson x FemReader

Summary: You ring Eddie’s bell, He dreams about you but it seems you don't notice him. Why would you? He’s just a teenage dirtbag but you don’t know what you are missing do you?

Warnings: Low self esteem, unrequited love. No other…just Eddie in love.

Words: 953

A/N: * Thoughts are in Bold Italic * I did it! This is my first fic and it probably shows. This is entirely based on the Teenage Dirtbag song by Wheatus. I listened to the song and just had to write about it. Huge thanks to @munsonxeddie for helping me correcting my mistakes and being a great editor <3 Art by: me :))

Eddie opened his eyes at the loud noise the motor of his Uncle Wayne’s pickup truck made. He reminds himself to check it up on the weekend. For now, it was time for him to get up his ass and drag himself to school. It doesn’t feel like a good day at all. He had fallen asleep with his clothes on and actually considered just walking through the door like that but as he walks across the trailer he picks up a really worn-off Ratt t-shirt and changes his jeans.

He jumped in his van and the music from the stereo hits his ears, he turned that shit all the way up and started the engine. As Bruce’s voice sang “You’ll take my life, but I’ll take your too”, he drove to school.

Eddie parked on his usual spot far from the principals building and near the woods, he grabbed his denim jacket at last and shut the van door. He was walking across the parking lot when he saw you, and he can’t feel it but his pupils dilate just a second and he felt a strange weight on his stomach all of sudden. It’s her, My evenstar. You were just getting out of an Iroc and Eddie didn’t slow down his walk, he just kept looking at you, probably like a real creep while you crossed the threshold of the front door.

“Move it, Freak!” the pilot of the car shouted at him when he turned the car in his direction, Eddie unwittingly flinched and he could hear him scoff when he walked around the car.

He could still see the back of your head just walking down in the middle of the hallway when he enters the building. It’s Wednesday so he will see you again in Ms. O’donnell’s class. Not that he memorized your Schedule or something in a creepy way, that’s just happened to be the only class you share.

---

Ms. O’donnell was already scolding someone when he stepped inside the classroom. “Morning! Hows my favorite teacher doing this gorgeous day?” He asked as he put his right hand on his chest and smiled at the teacher, even bowed a little for her. She immediately stopped her reprimand and turned her head towards him, she smirked a smile and told him to sit down.

He went straight to his usual desk, sat down and put his notebook on the table. One, two, three… He counted the seconds it took him to look at you. You were sitting two sits to his left, head down doodling something on your notebook. Man, what I would give just to talk to her! Even a new album of Black Sabbath… or an old album, anything… a special edition, even those! He tries to hide he is looking while rubbing the back of his neck and sees you through his messy bangs.

The class started without him even realizing it. He only stops staring when you finally turn your head up to see Ms. O'donnell. He immediately sits straight and tries to focus on the teacher hands since she likes to gesticulate a lot. That didn’t last as long as he wishes when he finds himself looking in your direction again. Shit, don’t stare, Eddie! Luckily for him Ms. O'donnell asks you to read outloud from a book, a classmate passes you over.

"Call me Ishmael. Some years ago—never mind how long precisely—having little or no money in my purse…" Christ, she has the prettiest voice. And thankfully now that it was your turn to speak up he can finally turn his body towards you. He put his elbow on the table and gently places his chin on the palm of his hand to look at you while you speak.

He feels stupid really, you were a normal girl at the school, fortunately you weren’t in the popular group nor the band or part of the party people either. Sometimes he wishes you were part of the outsiders and losers like him but as it seems you were just your perfect self but that doesn’t stop you to be way out of his league.

Eddie started to fidget his rings as he starts to feel a little anxious. Because he dreamed about you since the moment he laid eyes on you. He loved the way you do your hair, he adores how you rock your red keds and wear tube socks proudly. He even likes how sometimes when you laugh you snorts once in a while. That seems to have flustered you when it happens but he finds it endearing.

You could also join Hellfire if you wanted to, you didn’t even have to play, you can just sit on his throne like the queen you are and he’ll be fine on the other end of the table with a perfect view. He doesn't even know your taste in music but just looking at the way you sometimes dress, he knew he could convince you to listen to Iron Maiden with him. Also, he was pretty sure a hellfire t-shirt would match just fine with your normal wardrobe, he would give you hundreds of it, and not only because Gareth fucked up and he has a ton of them under his bed.

But all of that doesn’t really matter, doesn’t it? He was the weirdo, an outcast, a misfit and a piece of trash. He didn’t really fit into anything and surely he was ok with it but not if those were the reasons you couldn’t be with him. After all…This is stupid as shit, she doesn't know who I am, and she doesn't give a damn about me.

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