Tumgik
#but i see it enough that it just gets to me and ive been seeing stuff like this happen for years and everytime i think
rreids · 1 day
Note
ok ok ok i see this lingerie set all the time on instagram and ive always wondered how spencer would react you buying/wearing it if you are doing fic requests 👀
https://www.adoreme.com/gynger-white-1
ANGEL • S. REID X READER
fem reader; fingering; kissing; praise and compliments; description of the linked lingerie above; mentions of alcohol consumption; spencer loves you; ~1.5k words
Tumblr media
“You look pretty today,” Spencer tells you, breaking the lull in conversation. You’re watching a movie — though neither of you are really paying attention by now, wrapped up in soft whispers and gentle loving caresses. 
You shy from the attention, burying your face in his shoulder.
“Really!” His voice pitches up a little. “You’re beautiful,”
You smile into his skin, curling into his chest fully. “Thank you, Spence,”
He hums when you press a kiss to the column of his throat, relaxing as you place more and more on him. “Do you always get so affectionate when complimented?”
You shake your head and meet his eyes, head a mess of affection and want for the man in front of you. “Just when I really like the person they're from…” you mumble, toying with the bottom of your shirt as you look down. “‘nd when I’m a little wine drunk.”
Spencer laughs softly, fondly, sits up enough to press his lips to yours. He’s been drinking some, too, but he always cuts himself off early and has a higher tolerance. You sigh, curl your fingers into his shoulders and move forward without breaking contact. You slide into his lap, head tilting as he deepens the kiss easily, fingers kneading and rolling the soft flesh of your thighs as he guides your rhythm.
Each time you push for it to move, he pulls back slightly with a smile, looks at you so sweet, and then he kisses you slowly. So slowly. You want nothing more than for him to speed up, but the syrupy and molasses-like slowness and sweetness has heat bubbling up in your core. Without even realizing it, you’re sighing into his kiss, letting out soft gasping sounds of need as you seek friction — hips grinding small circles against him, pressure increasing as you find just the right angle. 
He makes no moves to stop you, but he doesn’t help you either. Eventually, he can’t stop smiling against you and pulls back just enough to look down at the needy circles you’re making against him. Spencer swallows, words dying on his tongue when you shudder, a bolt of pleasure making you dig your nails into his shoulders more harshly. He winces but allows it, pressing forward with more urgency and a deeper kiss. He groans against you when your movements brush against his arousal and you quiver in his grip, muscles tense and skin hot like a live wire.
“Spencer,” you whisper, unable to stop your rocking even then.
“Honey,” his voice is gravely and low, eyes darker as he studies you. He’s watching every small change to your expression as you grind against him, and you whine when he restrains himself from guiding you — he clearly wants to, hands tightening on your hips to the point you know you’ll have bruises.
“More,” you rush out the plea in a sigh, pulling at his shirt. “Anything, just want you.”
“You have me.” Spencer reassures, voice thick. He clears his throat. “I’m all yours, angel girl.”
The pet name spurs you, lips quirking up in a smile. He catches it, brows raising as he licks his own lips.
“What?”
“Nothing,” you’re a terrible liar, even more so when you’re lying to a behavior analyst (you prefer to call him a mind reader), and your long-term boyfriend.
“Really?” He humors you, tempering his smile to look more neutral. “Nothing you want to tell me?”
“Nope!” You chirp, too eager. You guide his hands from your stilled hips to the zipper of hoodie. “Something to show you.”
“I thought there was nothing,” Spencer hums teasingly, slowly tugging the cool metal down your body. His remarks die on his tongue as you shrug the fabric back off your shoulders and down, revealing the lingerie you’d bought.
There’s a ribbon over your breasts, presenting a perfect present to him, a mesh window below it to peer into your cleavage. The ribbon guides his eyes down your waist, and he wonders what the panties look like beneath your shorts.
Spencer searches your face briefly, catching your smile as his eyes fall helplessly back to your chest. “So…– so pretty,” he manages, stumbling over the words. He raises his hands to trail the ribbon and press against the thin mesh window, feeling the weight and heat of your skin through the sheer fabric.
“You like it?” You ask, more so to force words out of him than for reassurance.
He snaps his gaze to your face and nods, kissing you quickly. “You’re perfect, angel. All dolled up like a present,” he slides one bra strap off your shoulder and kisses the skin as he lets it fall. “My perfect gift,”
He tells you often you’re all he ever wants, and as much as that frustrates you when you’re trying to buy him a birthday present, it serves now as a stoke to the flames of your desire. All he wants is you and your beauty, all he can think of is your body.
He unclasps the back of the bra, tugging the ribbon playfully in a pretend untying before tugging it from you. His head dips, pressing kisses and sucking on the sensitive skin. Not enough to leave marks, you always complained about the tenderness, but enough that you arch up into the heat of his mouth and tug him closer by his hair.
“Spencer,” you whisper. “Wanna see my panties?”
He exhales softly, like the amused snort he does through his nose. “Would I ever say no?”
You tilt your head at him. “Well, sorry I wanted explicit consent,”
Spencer shakes his head fondly, kissing your cheek. “Thank you, honey. But yes, I want to see. I want to see all of you,”
You stand and turn so he gets the best sight of your panties as you slide the shorts down — the ribbon over your butt, the smaller strip of fabric that cups the flesh in a way that accentuates every piece of you. You twirl and he presses a kiss to your stomach. It’s ticklish, makes you giggle, and his chin digs into your skin a little as he looks up at you, tracing shapes on your inner thighs so lightly it almost stings from the sensitivity.
You blink at him and he only huffs a laugh, trailing up to the wet patch on your panties. Your knees buckle a little, but he catches you like he always does, guides you back down to him and his mouth. You kiss him like he’s the air you need, whining softly in the back of your throat as he snaps the waistband of the white fabric against you before tugging them to the side. The simultaneous friction of the fabric and his fingers, finding purchase and a rhythm in your slickness, has you shuddering. 
His fingers are always calloused perfectly for this, giving a roughness that contrasts the gentle crook of his fingers and the methodical pace, a perfect mind-numbing mix of everything him. His gentleness betrays him even when you ask him to be rougher; in stolen and short kisses; the affectionate brush of his hand over your insecurities and most sensitive skin; in the way he adjusts perfectly to your non-verbal tells before you even know to voice something.
He’s perfectly attuned to you and your body.
“You’re dripping,” Spencer whispers, awed, and you realize then the sloppy sounds your cunt makes on his hand. You squirm but he shushes you, clicking his tongue. “Such a good girl. Always so ready and willing,”
You whine, grinding down into the palm of his hand as he crooks his fingers just right and eases just that bit further into you. You clench at the sensation, eyes fluttering shut when you can’t handle the sight of his pretty face and intentness on your pleasure in tandem with the feeling anymore.
“Come on,” he urges. “Let go for me,”
He keeps working you, thumb rolling your clit in a mind-numbing tempo that perfectly offsets and melds with his fingers.
“There you go,” he whispers, awed, as your body arches and tenses as the pleasure crescendos and crashes into you in waves, leaving you whimpering and chest heaving as you try to come back from the sea. Spencer’s got you, as he always does, kissing your sweat-slicked skin and whispering praises, a soothing thumb (the clean one) running over your cheek into your nuzzle into his hand. “You did so well, angel,”
You reach for his sweatpants, but he presses back just out of reach. “Give yourself a second.”
“But I want you,” you urge, and Spencer only smiles, unabashed and unreserved fondness.
“And you’ll have it. I’m not going anywhere.”
Tumblr media
trying something new both in writing style and characterization bc i am frustrated with how i do both 🫡
470 notes · View notes
leclerc-hs · 2 days
Text
tachycardia pt.2 - cl16
Tumblr media
pairing: doctor!charles leclerc x nurse!reader (alpha/omega au) summary: in which you don't always get along with the arrogant alpha doctor warnings: LIGHT a/b/o dynamics, angst??, none really (yet!), badly translated French (didn't really put french in this), NOT PROOFREAD word count: 1.5k author's note: hi!!!!!! did you miss me??? I missed all of you! sorry this is SO short but I wanted to post something in honor of reaching 2,000 FOLLOWERS!!! I love u all sm and I'm sorry this is kinda shit. I've been in a really bad writing funk recently but I'm hoping to get out of it. don’t forget to talk to me and don’t be shy I love to hear from all of you!!!! I will try to get the ball rolling on this series as soon as I can. I just kinda started it without even knowing where I wanted it to go so I'm kinda just winging it as I write with whatever comes to mind. if you have anything you would like to see happen in this series PLEASE don’t be shy and let me know I love to hear your thoughts and ideas!!!! xoxo taglist: @amalialeclerc @barcelonaloverf1life @charizznorizz @magicpancake @zabwlky1999
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
AS YOU SIT across from your younger sister in the cozy confines of the café adjacent to the bustling hospital, you can’t help but marvel at the enigmatic workings of her mind.
“Is it really like that? Sex in the on-call rooms?” The question bursts forth accompanied by a hearty laugh, your body leaning forward in laughter. 
“How many times do I have to tell you no?”  You retort, meeting her gaze with an air of firmness amidst the playful banter. 
“What about in the locker room?” She presses further, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.
“No, and stop indulging in such ludicrous fantasies.” You respond, bringing your cup of coffee to your mouth, you pause before taking a sip. “You know well enough that I don’t engage in relationships with doctors.” A fleeting sense of contentment washes over you with the warmth of the coffee. 
She emits a deep sigh, deeply annoyed. “Are any of them at least cute?”
You feel your stomach churn as the image of Doctor Leclerc floods your thoughts. He’s far more than just attractive. You hesitate for a beat, staring at her wide, expectant eyes. “Yes.”
Her eyes light up almost instantly. “Who?”
“I forget. I don’t really know him.” Liar.
“What does he look like?”
“Brown hair. Very green eyes.” Your fingers twiddle with the napkin on the table, feigning disinterest.
She gives you a skeptical look as if she can read your mind and tell you’re lying. But she doesn’t push further. “When do you have to be back?”
You briefly glance at the time on the screen of your phone, “Shit.” Rising abruptly, you shove the chair back with a jolt, shooting your sister an apologetic glance. “I have to go. I’ll see you at mom’s this weekend?”
You’re already pushing the front door of the café open by the time you hear your sister half-shout, “Yes!”
-
You burst into your patient’s room, breaths coming in ragged gasps, cheeks flushed with exertion. You say a silent prayer to whatever higher power that he wasn’t here yet. 
“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” 
Did you mention that this particular patient has a knack for hitting on you?
Your heart skips a beat, and if it weren’t for the already flushed hue of your cheeks, you’re certain the blush creeping up on your neck would be glaringly obvious.
“Mr.,” You pause to glance at the chart to double-check his name, “Mr. Hart, how are you feeling today?”
“Meilleur, now that you’re here.” Better. You curl your lips upward into a soft smile, jokingly rolling your eyes at his antics.
“Surely you’re sick of seeing my face, Mr. Hart.” You quip, reaching for a stool beside his bed while simultaneously checking his IV bags. “Today’s the day I think!”
Mr. Hart has been in the hospital for over a week, recovering from a surgery for a atrial septal defect.  
“Jamais.” Never. He insists, his head sinking back against the pillow as his gaze follows your every movement. “I’m so close to being able to ask you out properly.”
In that moment, a new scent permeates the air, distinct and alluring. Without even turning around, you sense his presence—the man who just breezed in behind you. Whether he heard the exchange or not, you weren’t sure, but the subtle shift in the atmosphere is palpable regardless.
“Mr. Hart,” His voice, deep and honeyed, washes over you, almost too sweet to be genuine. “Still stirring up trouble for our lovely nurses?” Despite the playful tone, you can sense an undercurrent of something morecalculated beneath his words. His presence radiates warmth, his tall figure looming beside you, close enough to make your skin prickle with awareness. 
“No,” Mr. Hart grins. “Just her.”
Doctor Leclerc’s smile remains fixed, but you catch the subtle clench of his jaw as you turn your head to meet his gaze. “Just stopping by to let you know that we might need to keep you for another night.”
The news catches you off guard; you were under the impression that Mr. Hart would be discharged by the end of the day. As if he could sense the questions brewing in your mind, Doctor Leclerc continues, his voice reassuring. “Just a precautionary measure. I assure you; we’ll have you cleared to leave bright and early tomorrow morning.”
Mr. Hart hums nonchalantly, as if the prospect of another night in the hospital doesn’t bother him in the slightest. His attention remains fixated on you as you inspect the sutures on his chest, his fingertips grazing against your gloved hand with a deliberate touch. “Can’t complain as long as she’s the one checking on me.”
You let out a small laugh, but don’t say anything, as you stand up and remove the gloves to toss them in the waste bin nearby.  
“Mr. Hart,” Doctor Leclerc’s voice is unamused now. “You would be wise to refrain your hands from touching her again. Next time I won’t ask so politely.”
-
Pressed against a wall while in the presence of Doctor Leclerc seems to be a common occurrence nowadays. His tall frame blocking any potential onlookers from seeing who he had cornered.
“Dis-moi,” Tell me. His voice is low, lethal. “Do you flirt with patients often, hm?” 
“What is your problem?” You quip, your brows furrowed as you crane your neck back to look him in the eyes. 
“My problem?” He scoffs, leaning closer to your face, his lips thinned in annoyance. “My problem is that I have to stand there and watch a patient flirt with you,” He clicks his tongue in frustration, turning his head to look away for a brief moment. Giving you a moment, to take in the sharpness of his jawline, and the unshaven scruff that shadows it. “And you…” His voice trailed off.
“And I, what?” You pulled your lips into a slight frown.
“You smell like that,” His hands wavered around your body, in an exasperated manner.
“Smell like what?” 
As he shook his head in disbelief, a mixture of frustration and something deeper etched acoss his features. The disbelief seemed to stem from his inability to fathom that you were completely unaware of something soevident to him. It was that scent, the sweet floral scent that always accompanied you. It drove him mad sometimes. How it was almost the only thing he could focus on sometimes.
With a disapproving click of his tongue, he took a deliberate step back, as if needed physical distance to collect his thoughts.
Ignoring your inquiry, his gaze softened, the intensity in his eyes giving way to a gentler expression as they locked on yours.
Caught off guard by the swift change in his demeanor, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of whiplash from the abrupt shift.
“I wouldn’t say often,” you began, punctuating the order with a slight shrug. “It’s all harmless.”
His response was solemn, his voice carrying a weight of protectiveness that left no room for misinterpretation. “I don’t want them to put their hands on you ever again,” he declared firmly. “If you ever have issues, you can come to me.”
His words resonated with a gravity that made it clear he meant every syllable, his stance unwavering in its determination to shield you from harm.
Your throat tightened as you swallowed, acutely aware of the intensity in his gaze tracing the delicate curve of your neck.
“Moving forward, I will be the one to check on Mr. Hart,” he announced, his voice carrying a note of authority softened by a touch of concern.
With a deliberate motion, he extended his arm, his fingers brushing against your skin as he gently tucked a strand of loose hair behind your ear.
The proximity of his touch sent a rush of warmth to your cheeks, the tenderness in his gesture catching you off guard, yet somehow soothing in its unexpectedness. Dr. Leclerc’s presence seemed to envelop you whenever he was near. As if nothing else in the world existed no matter the premise of the discussion, including the constant bickering you two always seemed to do.
“Will you be at James’ retirement party?” The question slipped from your lips before you could fully weigh its significance. Yet, deep down, you knew the answer matters more to you than you cared to admit. You found yourself wanting him to be there, though the reasons remained elusive, even to yourself.
Yes, he was an ass to you most of the time. But, for some reason you couldn’t really fathom, he was always in the forefront of your mind.
His head tilted slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing his features. Though he would never openly confess, the idea of attending hadn’t crossed his mind until that moment. However, if there was even the slightest chance that you would be there, he couldn’t bring himself to refuse. 
“Yes,” he replied simply, the single word carrying more weight than its brevity suggested.
You nodded slowly, as if processing his response required a deeper level of understanding. “See you there?” You ventured, the question hanging in the air, pregnant with unspoken implications.
He nodded, pulling his lips into the faintest smirk.
“See you there, mon lapin.”
324 notes · View notes
diazsdimples · 1 day
Text
Fuck It Saturday
I'm not sure if it's friday anywhere anymore so we're fucking it on a Saturday!! I've been super lax on writing this week because I've got a beefy 3k word report on care for transgender/gender diverse parents during pregnancy due on Monday and I am not even halfway done dfkjds. BUT I did get a small trickle of Frostpunk AU beans so I thought I'd share! Snippet below the line bc it's kinda long
Tagged for Friday & Saturday by @smilingbuckley @thekristen999 @dangerpronebuddie @spotsandsocks @bidisasterevankinard
@cal-daisies-and-briars @daffi-990 @theotherbuckley and @kitteneddiediaz, I will be getting to your snippets tonight!!
Buck’s reading to Christopher when it happens.
Ever since Christopher woke up, Buck has been keeping a near-constant vigil at his bedside, keeping the boy entertained and comfortable where he can. He’d even snuck into the Children’s Shelter to borrow some toys for Christopher - a set of cards, a rainbow puzzle, a small, plastic dinosaur toy, and a fluffy rabbit that Christopher had kept tucked under his arm ever since.
So, it’s not entirely surprising that Buck is there when Edmundo wakes up.
The first indication is the bleeping on Edmundo’s heart monitor begins to increase in speed. Buck stops midsentence and turns in his chair. The first thing he notices is that Edmundo’s eyes are open, wide and fearful as he looks around the room.
In a flash, Buck is on his feet, book clattering to the floor, and he rushes over to Edmundo’s bedside.
“Hen!” he yells, praying his friend is close enough to hear. “Chimney! Someone, come quick!!”
Edmundo’s chest begins to heave as a heavy panic sets in and he raises his arms to claw at the breathing tube down his throat. Buck grabs his wrists and pins them to his size, and is surprised at the strength of the man. It takes no small amount of effort to keep him from ripping the tube out, or scrabbing at the IV lines in his arms.
“Hey, hey it’s okay, Hen and Chimney are coming, just breathe for me,” Buck says hurriedly as he watches Edmundo gag around the tube. He knows the man will be getting oxygen, but that won’t be stopping the feeling of suffocation, the feeling of obstruction in his throat.
Edmundo’s eyes bug out as he looks at Buck, gaze boring into him in a silent plea. Help me. Make it stop.
There’s a clattering of feet on linoleum as Hen, Chimney, and another medic Buck doesn’t know the name of all sprint into the cramped med bay.
“What’s going on, what happened?” Hen asks as she comes screeching to a halt, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what’s going on. Before Buck can even open his mouth, Chimney is grabbing the extubation equipment and barking orders at Hen and the medic, all three swarming Edmundo’s bedside.
Buck’s in the way, he knows it but he cannot make himself move. Instead, he takes both of Edmundo’s hands and laces their fingers together, squeezing lightly to give Edmundo something to focus on.
“Look at me, Edmundo,” he says as Hen peels off the tape keeping the tube in place. Edmundo’s eyes flick back towards Buck, his eyebrows scrunched together, and Buck’s stomach twists uncomfortably as he sees a tear slide down Edmundo’s cheek.
“That’s it, just keep your eyes on me.”
“Okay, extubating patient now. Hen, have suction at the ready. Jess, get the O2 mask,” Chimney orders, and there’s a fluffy of movement as everyone gets in position.
Buck looks away. He doesn’t want to watch the tube come out. He’s never been the best with medical things at the best of times and this.. well he’s not exactly sure why the thought of Edmundo in particular being in pain makes him so unhappy but it does. So he doesn’t watch, instead keeping his eyes trained firmly on his and Edmundo’s hands. It doesn’t escape his notice the way Edmundo’s knuckles go white as he clings to Buck for dear life.
There’s horrible wet noise followed by the sound of suction and a volley of wet coughs, before Buck hears a deep breath in. He chances a glance upwards and sees Edmundo, eyes open and sans tube for the first time he got to Sector 118. There’s an oxygen mask fitted over his face, fogging up with every breath Edmundo takes.
Instantly, relief flows through Buck like warm honey, filtering through his veins until he’s lighter and warmer than he’s been in days. Edmundo’s awake. Edmundo is breathing on his own. Edmundo’s alive.
Buck grins, unable to contain his joy. “Welcome back to the world of the living, Edmundo.”
“Eddie,” the guy croaks, and Buck blinks.
“Huh?”
“Name’s E-Eddie. Not Edmundo,” he rasps, before breaking out into a coughing fit. Buck rushes to help him upright, takes off the oxygen mask, and holds out a container as Edmundo – Eddie spits into it, his chest heaving from the force of his coughs. Buck rubs his back, murmuring reassuring words until Eddie takes a shaky breath and allows himself to rest back against his pillows.
No pressure tagging (for Friday or Saturday) @hippolotamus @watchyourbuck @neverevan @babybibuck @aroeddiediaz
@bibuckbuckgoose @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @nmcggg @jesuisici33 @wikiangela
@loveyouanyway @exhuastedpigeon @epicbuddieficrecs @hermscat @worriedbisexual
@slightlyobsessedwitheverything @actuallyitsellie @idealuk @dangerpronebuddie @simpingforhotfictionalcharacters
@houseofevanbuckley @loserdiaz @elvensorceress @underwaterninja13 @rainbow-nerdss
@steadfastsaturnsrings @thewolvesof1998 @jehdogg @ohlookitsthearkhamknight @revenge-of-the-assbutt (lmk if you want to be added/removed)
83 notes · View notes
httpiastri · 2 days
Text
sleeping patterns – cn34
Tumblr media
nights filled with endless crying and screaming take a toll on clement's confidence.
genre: fluff, slight comfort/angst ig
pairing: young dad!clem x young mom!reader
warnings: none
author’s note: aaaaaaaaaaa im so soft for clem and ive had such an insane baby fever recently. i miss him sm :(( he would be such a good dad, i just know it
f2/f3 masterlist
‎‎ ‎‎
the big, red numbers of your electric clock on the bedside table tell you it's only 3am, a frustrated huff passing through your lips when your eyes slowly open. it takes a while for you to realize what's waking you up – but then it makes so much sense.
the soft cries on the other side of the baby monitor sting like a knife in your heart, and you're fully awake in a matter of seconds. you're just about to push yourself up to a sitting position when the bed dips next to you. after turning around, you find your boyfriend already jumping out of bed. "i'll get her."
"are you sure?" you ask, voice creaky after several hours of not speaking.
clement nods, leaning down to press a kiss to your temple. "go back to sleep," he hums, and just like that, he has waddled through the door to your nursery.
the sad truth is that your little one hasn't been progressing with her sleep as much as she should. she had a period of almost sleeping through the nights about a month ago, but then you were hit with the four-month regression. she's almost five months old now, and still, you have issues with sudden wakeups in the middle of the night. as much as you adore every second you get to spend with her, you just wish you could get one full night of sleep sometime.
you know you won't be able to fall asleep until clement is back, you never can. but it's not because you're worried; in fact, there's not a single piece of concern on your mind over it. you know that he has mastered the cradling-cooing-bouncing sequence by now. and sure enough, your daughter's cries grow lighter and lighter, until the only sound that can be heard from the monitor is the ones of soft steps and hushed whispers.
but something feels off. even when the apartment is completely silent, clement doesn't come back to bed.
it's very strange. he fell asleep once in the rocking chair in the nursery, but complained about his back aching for a week afterwards and promised that he would never put himself through that again.
the moonlight peeking through the poorly shut blinds in the nursery casts a shadow across clement's profile when you step inside. despite how dark it is, you can see every little toy on the floor and every detail of the little race car-themed mobile that dangles above the crib clearly. you're way too used to being in here at night.
clement has put your daughter back down into her crib by now, and his hands are wrapped around the railing as he leans over it, looking down at her. he doesn't react when you come closer, and he doesn't move a muscle even when you place your hand on his shoulder. it's easy to understand that something is bothering him.
"what's on your mind?"
he turns to you and lets out a tiny exhale, as if it was a struggle for him to snap himself out of his thoughts. he shakes his head. "it's nothing."
"tell me," you press, giving his shoulder a soft squeeze.
"well, i…" he squeezes his eyes shut. "i'm kind of freaking out. it's been over four months, and… i still haven't adjusted."
"honey," you start, your hand moving to the back of his neck. "where is this coming from? so suddenly?"
"i don't know," he says with a sigh. "you've seen me lately, i've barely been able to fall asleep at all."
he opens his eyes again and gazes down into the crib, eyes softening once they land on the little bundle of love resting so peacefully. he follows the way her chest rises with her breaths, her slightly pouting lips, her tiny fists that are wrapped around her blankie.
"it feels like i'm the only one who's struggling. you're such a natural, you're doing so much better with her, while i just feel… hopeless."
you don't want to interrupt him – clement doesn't often speak about his deeper feelings, so now that he's finally going, you don't wish to stop his flow – but you have to say something. "i think you're doing really well."
"you actually think so?" he asks. though his gaze doesn't move an inch, he can still see you nodding in the corner of his eye. he takes a deep breath. "i've heard people say that new fathers go through things… that it takes time, that it takes patience- and i've tried to be patient, i really have. but…"
he finally looks at you, and his heart breaks slightly at the sight of your uneasy expression, the tension in your eyebrows and your worried eyes. he hates being the one to make you feel like this.
"i just can't get rid of this constant anxiety. it feels like i'm always stressing over something. over you, over her, over everything."
you relate to every word he says. being this young, you feel like you're stumbling through darkness most of the time, not knowing what to do. it's frankly a guessing game, with mostly correct guesses mixed with some bad ones, since neither of you have any prior parenting experiences. even though he may not see it or know it, you're going through the same things as him.
no one had expected for you to get pregnant at this age, and no one – not even the two of you – had expected for you and clement to actually keep the baby. and sometimes, way more often than you'd thought before, your youth and inexperience has been catching up with you.
it's hard, but at least you have each other.
you step closer, draping your arms around his shoulders in an instant. "it's alright," you whisper into the skin of his neck, your nose filling with that scent that's just so him, and you finally relax a bit. his hands find your waist, fingers caressing your sides through the flimsy material of your nightgown. "it's okay to feel like this. i do, too. i think… all new parents must feel it." you give his neck a soft kiss. "but they all get through it, don't they? and so will we."
he stays silent for a while before he nods slowly. "it's all just so… intimidating. i don't want to mess anything up."
"and you won't." you pull away slightly to look into his eyes. "i trust you fully, and-"
you're interrupted mid-sentence, the sound of your daughter stirring in her crib taking clement's attention away from you as he glances towards her. you see his adam's apple bob as she begins to whine, her fists clenching and face scrunching up. "should- can i take her?" he asks tentatively, hands trembling slightly on your sides.
you nod not even a second later, stepping out of his embrace to give him no excuse to hold back. "go for it."
clement had bought every parenting guidebook he could find, and read every website with tips for new parents on the entire internet – and yet, nothing had prepared him for this nervousness that he's experiencing so often. he knew it wouldn't be smooth sailing all the way, but he hadn't expected to feel this uncertain in everything he does. even in the way that he picks his daughter out of her crib, he feels anxious that he's doing something wrong.
however, the second she feels her father's presence, it's far from the story that his anxiety has been making up for him. she lets out one last soft cry before, as if out of habit, nuzzling her face into his skin.
while clement has been struggling this whole time, you can't help but notice that she settles easily into his arms. like she belongs there; like she knows that he'll take care of her.
because he always does.
"see?" you say, letting a finger run along the curve of her cheek as you smile down at her. "that's not so bad, is it? you're doing so well."
considering all the difficulties he's faced, hearing these kind words of appreciation from you gives him comfort in a way that few other feelings can compare to. his gaze is still glued to your daughter, the precious little baby that is his entire world. well, half of his world – the other half is standing right next to him. "i love her, you know," he says softly. "even if she doesn't know it yet, i do. so much."
"i think she knows," you answer, watching as your boyfriend cradles her against his bare chest. he has loved the skin-on-skin contact since day one, and you're sure she does, too; her gentle babbling is always a sure sign that she's completely content. you can't hold back from smiling. "and she loves you just as much."
"sometimes i just can't believe that she's ours. that we made her." his eyes meet yours, nothing but pure love in them. "isn't it strange?"
"strange that we've done something good for once?"
he answers your tease by sticking out his tongue, nudging your shoulder with his, though gently enough to not bother the little one in his arms.
"come on, let's go back to bed," you say, leaning in to press your lips gently to the back of her head. "one night of co-sleeping can't be the entire world, can it?"
64 notes · View notes
castawavy · 3 days
Text
November Save MEGA summary (part 8)
before / next
here it is... the penultimate chapter of november save, its been a long journey guys and im glad you all joined me on it. this was definetly my fave family and one that was really important to me because I made steve and june during a time in my life where things were very uncertain & I was going through a lot of changes, so they were pretty much my one contsant for awhile, anyways here are the photos!
so steve and june are still on their little fitness journey together, its a thing that steve has always been into but june wanted to join him cuz she got super into yoga
Tumblr media
then as usual they couldnt keep it in their pants
Tumblr media
june also got promoted to judge finally, she basically switched career branches after she left Landgraab Industries, but I didnt have any pics of her leaving... but now she works at the local court, and doesnt have to commute to the city anymore which she prefers
Tumblr media
then it was Winterfest 🎁 and I decked the halls
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
lucky elijah got gifted a telescope but I don't remember what we got adelaide
Tumblr media Tumblr media
adelaide spent new years with her childhood friend peter (luke's step son) in san myshuno I think she graduated from highschool by now but again, ive lost the photos from her prom... idk what happened to those
Tumblr media
the bheeda girls were there too of course, theyre kind of like cousins to adie since shes very close with them even though theyre not even related AHAHAHA
Tumblr media
she also met a mysterious stranger named jolene who she later kissed at a house party, she kind of stopped seeing landon because the two of them would always fight, and I think she just had enough
Tumblr media Tumblr media
steve and moose cuteness
Tumblr media
and a makeover for elijah in prepartion for his YA life stage (he sometimes wears contact lenses now)
Tumblr media
THEN a major event in steve's life, but he spoke with june and she persuaded him to finally reconnect with his younger sister, Claire, who he has kind of been no contact with since he was a teenager (mostly because he cut off contact with his parents)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
later in spring, the weather started to get nice, so steve and june threw a BBQ / get together with all their friends in the yard
Tumblr media Tumblr media
sita and elijah also reconnected as they hadnt really seen eachother since they were toddlers and sita quite liked him :eyes:
Tumblr media
then when everyone was gone, steve & june enjoyed some quality time together in the new pool...
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
meanwhile elijah and sita got cozy and 'watched' a movie teehee
Tumblr media
ALSO big news from Raj FINALLY he couldnt make it to the BBQ cuz he and julia just had TWINS
Tumblr media
adelaide also worked her final shift at the country club and she and her coworkers played some foosball behind their manager's back
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
before / next
25 notes · View notes
anemoiashifts · 3 days
Text
why everyone won’t shift.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚.
“do you think everyone will shift?”
no.
“but if they really want they’ll eventually—“
no.
before you pick up your pitchforks & form an angry mob in the comments, hear me out.
first & foremost. what is a want ? a want is something you desire. but not every want is desired. for example, ive been thinking of getting a cat once i move out of my parents house. i want the animal & have the funds for it. when i dig deeper in my desire, i see all the vet trips, the having to feed it & take care of it & i realized that i don’t actually want the cat at the moment. im not ready to make that drastic of a change in my life. on the surface, id like one but i don’t want to take on the responsibility for taking care of a pet at the moment.
i like the idea of getting a cat (shifting) — but when the actual time comes to get a cat (actually shift), i don’t actually want a new pet at the moment (to create that big of a change because i am comfortable with my situation & not mentally prepared / mature enough).
i made a post about comfort already. what previously spoke about can tie into this.
if you don’t actually want something & just like fantasizing about it, that’s okay. but fantasy & imagination needs to be backed by intention. you need intention & effort put into your shifting attempts. ive seen so so many people say “i tried to shift” & all they do is say “i said one affirmation & rolled over & went to sleep & hoped i would wake up in my dr.”
you could say a million affirmations & hope you will wake up in your dr & not shift. you know why ? hope. it’s not hoping you will shift — it’s that internal knowing. it’s letting go fully of the comfort & all you know of this life to go to another & a lot of people don’t want to do that even if they say they do. again, they like the idea of shifting, but aren’t stopping to consider that you’re actually living it.
this isn’t a bad thing. if you actually have come to the conclusion that you don’t want to shift & are in the community — that’s okay. if you’re just interested in the science or content for the subject & that’s why you’ve stumbled across this blog, i don’t have an issue with that.
when i say not everyone will shift, i mean that not everyone wants to shift in the first place despite what they may say. what they want is an escape. time & time again i see comments on tiktok say “i want to get out of this reality”. that statement has nothing to do with wanting to shift — it’s wanting to get out of the situation you are in. you do not have to shift to get out of your current situation. if you live with family or are younger, it’s different, i understand.
if you’re someone who thinks “when i shift, ill be happy.” no no no. happiness comes from within you. while the 3d can bring you momentarily happiness, that only lasts so long. if you don’t have internal happiness & self love those feelings won’t last. shifting — in my option — can sometimes be putting a bandaid on a bigger issue & that’s loneliness & a yearning for another life. you can solve both of those right here at anytime.
lastly, shifting takes effort despite what you may think. “but such and such shifted without trying”. cool, that’s them. but have you ? if you’re reading this im going so safely assume at least a handful of you are saying “no” internally. when you want something you have to work for it. weather that be manifestation or putting yourself first. if you wake up & think “i didn’t shift” or “i hate this world it’s sucks” guess what ?? you’re focusing on the negative. what you pay attention to & give your energy to expands because you’re shifting awareness to it. you make up your thoughts & control them, thus affecting the 3d.
im not saying you can’t shift with negative mindsets or anything. im saying confidence helps a ton. how are you going to believe other people can shift when you can’t even extend that belief to yourself ? you’re making it much, much harder for yourself. doing healing work, finding the root cause of why you want to shift (for love, sense or belonging, etc.) & finding that here first, may alleviate the desperation to shift. when you have a sense of knowing, there’s nothing to be desperate about because whatever happens, you know the outcome already.
⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚.
22 notes · View notes
jhnnyjstr · 2 days
Text
i am winning the idgaf wars when it comes to the magnus protocol bruh.
i cannot get myself to be even remotely interested in this series. im listening out of obligation (number 1 tma fan), but i end up just waiting around for those 20 minutes to end with zero interest. for there to be a sequel to the magnus archives, a podcast with a fully rounded and complete elaborate storyline, it has to justify itself. to me, tmp doesn’t justify itself.
right now, tmp feels like someone going “oh! oh you liked THIS?? you liked THIS PART of tma??? well look at THIS!!!!! this is THAT!!!!!” and it completely flops at it every time. i won’t say its shit, i’ve liked certain episodes and i enjoy some of the characters, but side by side with tma…? come on
part of the beauty of tma is that every episode felt like you were slowly uncovering a plot with the mc. not only that, but characters were gradually introduced, and supplementals didn’t even have proper full character scenes/dialogues until s3, (a little in s2). then look at tmp. the first episode is random characters ive never heard of talking all at once, and this continues for every episode until the current one. i don’t care about any of these characters, and i feel no attachment or ‘riding along with the mc’ feeling with any of them. it feels like a random group of people sprinkled in amongst a vaguely tma-ish plot.
i also hate the attempt to INSTANTLY get into the ‘ooo big background mystery’ when there absolutely hasn’t even been enough context set for that to even matter to the listener. why do i care that gwen is getting promoted? why would any of this sinister secret plot matter to me when i barely understand the way that this institution functions normally? (which i don’t even know the name of, mind you).
you could easily say “but dan!! this will be SHORTER than tma!! its 3 seasons, not 5!!!” think about what was achieved in 3 seasons of tma. by season 3, jon was in his exploration era. he was meeting mike, jude, the monster hunters, gerry, nikola, sarah, he learned about the nature of the entities, we learnt about rituals, learnt that jon wasn’t fully human anymore, hell we even met peter, and we saw elias’ ass being sent to jail!
the pace of tmp is so fast when its plot already bears so little relevance to the listener, and it doesnt help that some of these episodes are, in complete honesty, poor. i find the writing of characters and the interactions between characters rather poor already as well.
im not trying to be harsh, but this is definitely nagging at me. ive been growing fairly irritated with tmp. feel free to disagree obviously, i can see why people would be fans. but it doesn’t hold a candle to tma. im trying reaaaally hard to give it a chance, but im growing more and more disappointed/underwhelmed by the day . pllbbttfhhh . 👎
27 notes · View notes
lemongogo · 10 months
Text
Tumblr media
sry i dont know what 2 draw anymore T_T . elendira portrait #999
1K notes · View notes
luck-of-the-drawings · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media
oh the dread, oh the worry! you love your sister so much and you need to know shes okay. you trust her but you cant trust the world, and more than anything else you cant trust yourself
#jrwi riptide#jrwi fanart#jrwi riptide spoilers#jrwi show#gillion tidestrider#edyn tidestrider#RAHHH IVE HAD THIS ROTTIN IN DRAFTS FOR A BIT but im finally here n ready to POST!!!!#SO THE LIL GILLION AND EDYN ARC HUH??#gillion as a character makes me so emotional. he means so well yet sucks so bad in every way he wish he didnt#HE CARES SOO MUCH ABOUT HIS SISTER. MAN HAS NEVER CRIED EXCEPT FOR THE DAY HE SAW HER AGAIN#HE WAS SOOO HAPPY TO SEE HER AND FIND OUT SHES OKAY. I ALSO REMEMBER SCREAAAAMIN WHEN SHE FIRST APPEARED#I HAD BEEN THINKIN ABOUT EDYN FOR SO LONG... ohhh older sisters where u at... u understand... only us older sisters get it#andNOW WHERE IS SHE..? WHERE IS SHE NOW.... working with the navy to 'undo' what the undersea has done to her precious baby brother#OKAY ENOUGH EMOTIONS TIME FOR ME TO TALK ABT MY ART#REAAALLY THIS IS ONE OF MY BEST DOODLE PAGES SO FAR. IM SO PROUDA THE COLORS N THE SCENES AND THE EMOTIONS#the lil scene with edyn comforting gillion after 'a day of alot of failure. that was the first we ever saw of edyn right? i love my colors#A MIRROR! edyn painted in red when shes often blue. framed by rock and coral and memory sharing bracelets and fire.#A MEMORY! a recent event! finding her at the bar and meeting her at a tavern. its cathartic to hear your older sister tell you its okay#even more cathartic to have her remind you that you are not your tragedies. you were just a kid. you didnt deserve what happened.#you really missed having her here#OH BUT THE NEXT. A NOTE LEFT BEHIND. NOTHING ELSE. i love you a million gillion#BUT THATS NOT A REASSURANCE IS IT? its a trust fall. emphasis on the fall. emphasis on the needle in your chest as wind rushes past#you anticipate the ground but you wish you could anticipate her arms. you wish you could trust. you need to trust. so why cant you?#instead you lash out. again. just like last time. just like always. you were never good at controlling your emotions#all you do in the end is break stuff. none of them can trust you. thats why she cant tell you. thats why he didnt tell you. noone trusts yo#chips got way too many damn belts btw. put some o those back boy u do NOT need all that mess jingling around ur gay hips. you FRUIT!!!!!!!!#I liked the scene with jay n chip dragging gillion around. its a comical scene ofc and i LOVE that balance here. but that sadness remains.#they care about gillion so much..... auuwuuuu.....#OKAY FINAL THOUGHTS. I RLY LIKE DRAWING DIFFERENT TEARS FOR DIFFERENT TYPES OF CRYING#when the tears well up so big from uncontainable joy that you cant even see
206 notes · View notes
peachcitt · 10 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
“Consider me pressured,” he says, plucking a cigarette from the carton and placing it between his lips. He gestures for the lighter in her lap.
“Well, don’t smoke just because I said so,” she says. “It’s not a good habit to start.”
“It’s a habit I already have,” Adrien says, his lips pulling sheepish around the cigarette that he’s artfully dangling at the edge of his mouth. “I’m just letting you pressure me into it again.”
“As long as it’s not your first,” she says, leaning forward and cupping one hand around the end of his cigarette, using the other to flick the lighter on.
His golden eyelashes brush his cheekbones as he inhales. “It would’ve been a pleasure to have you as my first,” he murmurs, looking up at her as smoke curls out from his lips.
from chapter 13 of my fic greatest hits :)<3
158 notes · View notes
s0fter-sin · 4 months
Text
sometimes i think about how wild a mw2 movie would be if they just dropped soapghost right in the middle with no warning or marketing. like imagine it being beat for beat the exact same, it’s your typical military action movie, promoted as just another military action movie then after they get to the safe house, ghost has to patch up soap and he’s still out of it, overwhelmed by the betrayal and everything he’s seen and ghost needs to ground him and keep him in the present, to remind him that he’s alive and safe so he kisses him and they have sex. the tantrums and the rants and the “ReAl sOLdiErS aRen’t liKe ThAt”, god i can taste it and it’s delicious
#theres never any talk of a relationship or sexuality crisis its just this moment of humanity and comfort to bring soap back to himself#real any time you need me by thirteenbullets vibes#theyre not the type of men to have something as normal as a relationship#theyre just everything to each other they know that and its enough#ghost can be such a complex character if you let him#this guy whos rejected his humanity has buried himself and become a ghost#willingly digging himself out of the grave to stop soap from digging his own#like how are there not more explicitly homoerotic military movies that actually pull the trigger (heh) on the homo part of the eroticism#you know how if movies have even a hint of queerness they wring it out for every drop of respresentation they can get#theres a hundred articles and its mentioned in every interview and it all journalists ask those actors#imagine it being a complete secret and everyone expects just a typical action movie#then boom battle buddy gay sex#like if it were a male and fenale character you would see that scene coming a mile away so why cant it happen with two guys#just doing it is the only way of normalising it#i still see men saying they act like brothers which is denial so strong even egypt is impressed#but imagine the general public expecting this manly man military movie then getting hit with the alone mission flirting and denying it#then getting smacked in the face with tender wound care and grounding love making initiated by the edgelord they were using as a self inser#coming out of my cage and ive been doing just fine.txt#soapghost#ghostsoap#ghoap#john soap mactavish#soap cod#simon ghost riley#ghost cod#cod mw2#we’re a team. ghost team
100 notes · View notes
dizzybizz · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media
redraw of a galo from last year!!! :3
Tumblr media Tumblr media
side-by-side comparison :-)
139 notes · View notes
sea-buns · 6 months
Text
Holy fuck, man. What a trip Fearne has been on, huh?
You tell her how grateful you are to have her in your life, you flatter her, you tell her you need her, that you have to do this together. You have her make a promise that has this woman, born of chaos and fey, agreeing through shaking hands and a trembling voice.
You make her deceive your friends; you make her follow where they cannot know; you make her help you into this contraption; you make her feed this thing into you despite the fact that you both have been warned extensively of the risks. You make her watch you crumble and splinter and shatter and fracture and burst and implode. You make her watch you die, over and over and over and over, for a minute in agonizing bullet time.
You make her do all these things, because when she tries to back out, when she tries to not be the one who let you do this—how could you do this—
you tell her, "YOU PROMISED."
Because if there's one thing you know, it's that the fey do not break a promise.
#cant wait for her to fucking pissed for a very long time. shes really packing the entire human experience in a very short period of time.#critical role#cr spoilers#c3e77#fearne calloway#ashton greymoore#bells hells#just gonna get ahead of the um actually mfs and state that i am aware that its not confirmed that thats why ash brought up the promise#but boy howdy would it make for some great drama down the line huh?#edit: apparently i did not get ahead enough cuz ive had to turn off replies#since ppl were somehow interpreting this mini introspection piece as me infantilizing fearne??#anyway the first line is now changed to something a bit more neutral. after sleeping on it i do see how it was a bit aggressive at the top#other than that im not sure how else to reword without completely disregarding the core of the post#i might make more posts addressing this but im not sure yet. i wanna try to approach it in the best way possible.#but if it helps any the point of the post was not to say fearne had no agency. she had plenty of moments where she tilted one way or the#other. the POINT was to just shine some light on the emotional pressure she had been put under.#hasnt your friend ever asked you to keep a secret or promise that felt wrong or unsafe or made you anxious?#it has nothing to do with the amount of agency she had. ash wasnt holding a knife to her throat and forcing her to follow against her will#all i was trying to do was take this detail about his reminder of the promise that i thought was interesting and have some fun writing an#overview of the kinda stress she was under BEFORE theyd reached that scene. this entire ep was everyone discussing how grateful they were#for this family theyd made. and while im not saying ash was PURPOSELY emotionally manipulating fearne..#there is a level of unintentional manipulation when you pair the severity of his request with the convo theyd had 2 seconds prior#as well as the desperate need they all have to save each other NO MATTER WHAT.#ash was giving incredibly strong energy of a friend who peer pressures you into helping them do something that you know in your gut WILL#cause problems. hes a fucked up guy. theyre all fucked up guys. even if he didnt mean to “force” her into anything the pressure was THERE.#<- i feel like all of this overall gets my message across. i think maybe ill clean it up later into its own post.#im gonna try not to rush myself to get it done tho.#im under no obligation to explain myself. especially when ppl approach the misunderstanding by being rude af. but i do think it CAN#be clarified so id at least like to try to some degree
80 notes · View notes
good-beanswrites · 1 month
Text
An 0309 drabble for an anon ask I got a bit ago :) Thank you for being patient, I really enjoyed writing this!! It's actually a little moment I've wanted to write since I started Milgram fic, but never got around to it. (I mention his injured eye, but don't actually describe anything)
“Stop moving around so much.”
“Don’t tell me what to do.”
“I mean it. You’ll make things worse.”
Mikoto watched as the intensity in Fuuta’s gaze flickered between fire and fear.
He had a doctor’s kit laid out on his lap. Recently, Shidou had his hands full with Mahiru’s treatments and having intense conversations with Haruka, so Mikoto wanted to give him a break. With none of the injuries actually healing as they should, the prisoners were caught in an endless loop of changing bandages and checking for complications.
Shidou was grateful for the help. Many of the others tolerated Fuuta in the same way they spent only the necessary time around Mikoto. They smiled and placated him, acting like he’d gone mad all of the sudden. Whatever was making the others avoid the two of them, it drew the pair together. Mikoto was finding he enjoyed Fuuta’s company. Something about him was rather… charming. 
“Me? You’re the asshole that will make things worse. You’re no doctor! Fuck you.”
Eh, maybe he had gone mad. 
He took comfort, at least, in the knowledge that Fuuta was growing more comfortable with him. He sure had a special way of showing it, but Mikoto didn’t brag about being a people-person for nothing – he picked up on the way Fuuta sought him out during the day, pretending to be involved in his own activities. The way he struck up a conversation, then acted as if it had been Mikoto’s idea to come over and bother him. 
Therefore it was exciting, though not surprising, when Fuuta allowed Mikoto to help treat his injuries. They had only done it a few times, but today brought a whole new challenge. 
“I’m not performing surgery or anything. Shidou said it just needs some basic disinfecting.” He flashed his usual grin. “I have a steady hand – I’m a photographer, you know.”
Aside from Shidou, Fuuta hadn’t allowed a single person to look under his eyepatch. 
He remained unamused by Mikoto’s smile. For better or worse, he could always tell when it was forced. “It’s not like I have any proof of that. You could be awful at it, for all I know.”
“First chance I get, I’ll request a camera and prove it. Want me to take a picture of you first?”
“If you haven’t already messed up my face…” Fuuta’s focus was glued to the hand carefully reaching towards him. 
Mikoto pouted his lips. “Shidou trusted me enough with this. And you must have, because you agreed earlier. So If it’s not about me… You’re not scared, are you?”
There were some things that Fuuta didn’t stop to see through. He sputtered in surprise. “Hell no!” He lifted his chin, finally taking his attention off Mikoto’s hands. He stared defiantly. “I can take it.”
Mikoto felt a bit guilty for resorting to foul play. But not that guilty. “Good. Now hold still...”
He got right to it. One hand held ginger hair out of the way, while the other pinched the corner of the eyepatch. Fuuta’s good eye darted nervously around the room, avoiding the other's close-leaning face. Mikoto peeled it away swiftly, gently
As a horror movie buff, the injury didn’t faze him in the slightest. As someone who’d grown close to Fuuta recently, he felt a wave of anguish at the sight.
Fuuta squirmed. “It’s nasty, isn’t it…”
Mikoto reached down for some supplies. He considered mustering up a smile and saying there was no need to worry so much, but it would have been pointless. Times like these, it was kind of a relief when someone else could see right through him for a change. 
“It looks like it hurts.”
“Tch, I don’t need any pity from you.”
“I was going to say, you hide it well. You’re tougher than the warden gives you credit for.”
His cheeks flushed red. “I – I don’t need any flattery from you either!”
“Don’t need anything from anybody, huh?”
Before he could come up with a retort, he hissed through his teeth in pain.
“Ah, sorry.” Mikoto immediately retracted his hand from where it had been dabbing alcohol onto the injury.
Steeling his expression, he muttered, “it’s fine.”
Mikoto tried again. He made sure to move with even more steadiness, his face drawn up in concentration. He saw Fuuta’s features flinch when he touched him, but he stayed still. The two were silent, now, as Mikoto worked. Leaning his face so close made the short task feel much longer. The reddening in his cheeks didn't subside.
He expected Fuuta to snatch the fresh eyepatch away the moment he unwrapped it – he was shocked that Fuuta let him adjust it into place without a word.
“Alright. You’re all set.” He started packing up the kit.
“Listen, don’t tell the others. About my eye.”
Mikoto squinted. He gestured to the right side of his face. “I hate to break it to you, but the big patch kinda gives you away.”
“You idiot! I just mean, don’t tell them what it looks like.” He pulled his hood down over his hair. “I don’t need everyone trying to steal a look at it like I’m some sort of freakshow.”
“Hey, of course.” Mikoto gave him a smile, the kind they both knew was genuine. “I’ve got you.”
Fuuta nodded. He turned his face away, his fingers lingering over where Mikoto’s had just been. “... And… thanks.”
28 notes · View notes
autistic-beshelar · 1 month
Text
ah yes dungeon meshi, the manga where an autistic man gets repeatedly bullied by people he thinks are his friends and not a single person supports him
#dont get me wrong i am enjoying this manga#but i'm failing to see how this is some great amazing autistic rep#like yeah laios is obviously autistic#and the struggles he has due to his autism are VERY relatable#but it's deeply uncomfortable that even the people closest to him are routinely awful to him#specifically for his autistic traits#and their bullying is almost always a joke#not a single person defends him#literally senshi is the only character that's never been cruel to him#well and farlyn but lbr she's also autistic and also has been in like half a chapter that ive read so far#maybe ive just not read far enough or not seen enough posts#but im not understanding why the fandom are treating it like amazing autistic rep and how it understands us so well#you could argue that the narrative tends to support laios's methods and way of thinking#but nothing else does#the scene with shuro was fucking awful to read tbh#'you're so annoying because you're autistic. how dare you think im your friend when you should have just guessed that i hated you'#and not a single person defends laios#or calls shuro out on what a fucking horrific way of treating a party member that is#like i dont know MAYBE you could have just said 'hey i don't really want to be friends'#maybe you could COMMUNICATE.#but no it's the autistic man who's the problem. for the crime of.... being too nice.#i don't have a problem with the scene.#i have a problem with the fact that shuro is framed as reasonable here. instead of utterly fucking vile.#i have a problem with none of the other characters sticking up for laios.#dungeon meshi#maybe ppl will start treating him better#i would like to continue reading#but if he continues getting bullied in EVERY fucking chapter as a 'joke' then idk man
26 notes · View notes
todayisafridaynight · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media
pocket-square sized
133 notes · View notes