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kitthepurplepotato · 1 year

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Shouto’s journey to self-love

Pairing: Todoroki Shouto x GN Reader (both aged 25+)

Genre: Angst, fluff, comfort, (happy ending, SFW)

Word count: 5K

Warnings: Season 6 spoilers, description of a panic attack, mentions of self harm in the past, depression, blood (because of a fight scene), self hate

+ so sweet you might need a dentist by the end of it.

16+ for safety!

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Todoroki hates himself more than he hates his own enemies; or at least until he meets Y/N who’s more than keen on the idea of making Shouto love himself and his flaws.

This story is about two broken people mending each other’s hearts and becoming one with another.

I was in a terrible mental state due to a tragedy in my family so I used up my pent up emotions and healed myself through Todoroki-kun, thank you.

English is my second language, be kind.

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Todoroki Shouto is a perfect example that blood doesn’t mean anything.

Everyone thought the Todoroki name was forever destroyed after his father fell from being the Number 1 hero to a lonely old man hiding in a cottage far away from everyone due to his old, terrible deeds.

Todoroki himself was also sure his life will be stained forever by his father’s terrible reputation; but things… didn’t go the way he thought they would.

After his father’s scandal died down, Todoroki slowly but steadily made his way to the top; hand in hand with his best friends, he reached the heights his father never could; Todoroki might not be the Number One Hero in Japan but he is sure one of the most liked, most respected and most desired hero in Japan.

And also, being on the second place isn’t as bad as his father made it seem like.

Shouto Todoroki is a great person. The press loves him; he’s mysterious, but kind; he’s comedically dull but also extremely intelligent; he’s hot and cold in every single way possible.

Most people think Todoroki Shouto has no flaws whatsoever; there’s never a mean article about him in the media, no love scandals, no drunk fights, no nothing; he lives happily in his massive mansion on the side of the city, surrounded by his friends and family, maybe even a secret lover.

But the truth is…

Todoroki Shouto is a broken soul.

As someone who grew up in an unloving family, far away from caring hands and warm hugs, Shouto has an issue with human touch. He got better since he was reunited with all the important family members he had to keep a distance from when he was a child, but being hugged and caressed by a stranger is Todoroki’s personal nightmare.

Why, you ask?

Because he’s undesirable.

Todoroki is absolutely sure he is the most repulsive person the world has ever seen; nothing but a mess of random genes, a poorly made work of “art”, a human trash bag filled with nothing but unimportant, rotting bits and bobs, rolling on the side of the road waiting to slowly decay and disappear into nothingness.

Todoroki Shouto wants nothing more than to be born again; in a different body, with a different soul and a less broken mind.

He really tried his best to achieve his “dreams” after he graduated (if you can even call a piece of paper stating the completion of his course a “graduation”.); his wrists wearing the constant reminders of his “hard work”, masterfully hidden by his long sleeves from spring to winter.

Todoroki might be a loner, but he is also surrounded by the bestest friends a person can ever have; he never really understood how he deserved to be so loved and appreciated by anyone in their right mind; but maybe they are all just messed up in the head. There is no other reason for a person to willingly hang out with him and stay with him for longer than a day; yet there they were, slapping him out of his stupor after trying to end everything, naively hoping it will make all the pain go away; there they were, sleeping on the little plastic sofa next to his bedside in the hospital; there they were, taking his hand and forcing him out of his little, safe bubble, giving the half and half hero a chance to find the ultimate happiness he was always dreaming about.

Todoroki Shouto is a carefree, cool person in the eyes of the media; but no one knows the real struggles of the hero and no one ever will.

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The present

“You are a bit out of it today.”

Shouto gets shaken out of his stupor by a pleasant voice; his sidekick/soon-to-be hero partner, Y/N.

It took Midoriya years of begging for him to get a sidekick. Todoroki is a lone wolf; he might be trying his best to be as different as he can be if it comes to his cruel father, but he still has this one thing in common with the old man; he can’t trust anyone enough to work with them in a team; or at least he thought, until Y/N came in the picture.

Shouto knew right away that Y/N is different; they were the first person Shouto could feel a little connection with; the first person who didn’t try to fake a smile for the sake of a good first impression; the first person to look into his eyes without any kind of ulterior motive. Y/N was the first person to immediately see through Shouto’s facade and see the broken, young boy hidden in the 27 years old body.

It only took Y/N a month to melt Todoroki’s frozen heart; to break all the walls sheltering him into tiny pieces.

It only took a few more months for Todoroki to realize he just found the missing puzzle piece he’s been subconsciously looking for all his life.

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The first time meeting an interesting stranger.

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The past.

Todoroki Shouto is not really listening to the interviews anymore; he’s done with hearing the same clichè answers every single time, over and over;

“I want to work with the best people!”

“I’m a big fan!”

“I want to be the best hero!”

This is all nice and lovely, but Shouto isn’t looking for the perfect pupil; he’s looking for a partner he can trust and he can talk with, about more than just the weather and the current stock prices.

After two hours of mindless chatter and fake smiles, Shouto raises his head to a strong, extremely honest voice.

“Apparently, I can’t run away from my problems, so I might as well just do something useful with my life.” Says Y/N nonchalantly while playing with the hem of their sleeve. Shouto knows the indication of that motion way too much.

He also knows that this person was Midoriya’s recommendation even without looking at his paperwork in front of him.

“I sent someone over to you, someone really dear to me. They reminded me of you.” Shouto recalls Midoriya’s conversation with him a week ago.

Y/N was saved by Midoriya a few years back when he started his hero work; or to be exact, Deku was saved by Y/N after he made a terrible mistake during his rescue.

After the big war, the government opened a special program for civilians with special quirks. To enroll, they needed to be recommended by the heroes working on the field; it’s similar to the way All Might found Midoriya, just on a bigger scale.

Y/N was the part of the first course back then, graduating with the highest score possible.

“I know you already answered this question, but knowing your friendship with Midoriya… why are you here exactly?” Shouto asks, startling the other team members around him; this is the first time he was willing to ask anything from anyone. He barely looked up at the interviewees until now.

“Midoriya is great, but I don’t want to be the best hero in the world. I just want to find a reason for my existence. I want to have purpose. Izuku’s overly excited team is too much for me and he knows that.” Y/N looks straight into Shouto’s eyes by the end of their sentence with a sad, but honest smile on their face.

Shouto knows this interview is over. This is what he was waiting for. Honesty.

“I want them on my team.” He speaks up and closes the folder in front of him.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Shouto doesn’t believe in love at first sight. Shouto barely believes in “love” in general.

After years of struggling with emotions he managed to get the hang of them though; he now understands friendships, understands what missing someone feels like and understands how worrisome it is when someone goes radio silent for a week without a single word, just because they don’t feel like talking - Shouto can thank Bakugou for this one and his sudden midlife crisis at the young age of 25.

Shouto can also endure a hug from a close friend now; he still squirms in Kirishima’s arms, but he tries his best to hug back anyway.

What Shouto can NOT do is to survive being touched by anyone else except his close friend group - or so he thought, until Y/N has arrived.

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The first time sharing an office.

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Shouto is having a hard time sharing his private office space with someone new.

While he’s excited for the new journey and he’s already thankful to Midoriya for finding him such a perfect companion - Y/N is quiet, understanding and a little bit fucked up in the hand just like him - a shared small office space come with huge difficulties; like close proximities when working on the same paperwork, fleeting, accidental touches when passing by one another; and also the weirdly constant assessing of the other person’s face for signs of distress.

This might sound silly and childish but putting two socially awkward people together in the same room can get really weird, really quickly.

And just like that, Y/N sighs into the awfully quiet space between them, utterly done with being stared at every 5 minutes.

“You and me. The sofa. Now.”

If this conversation would be between Kaminari and someone else, Denki would probably make a really dirty joke. But Shouto does non of that; without a single world, he stands up from his comfortable chair, walks up to the sofa and sits down; his posture straight, shoulders tense with clear worry on his otherwise cool and collected face.

“Let me guess.” Says Y/N, slowly sitting down on the other side of the sofa. “You are not a fan of human interactions nor understand any of them.”

The sigh leaving Shouto’s mouth is loud and dramatic; his shoulders slowly slump from their uncomfortably straight posture, his body now one with the soft sofa. No need to answer with words; he’s clearly a mess of emotions.

As he slowly looks up at his new office partner, terrified to see the disappointment in their eyes, he’s met with dazzling, curious eyes staring into his soul.

Shouto, for the first time of his life, feels butterflies in his stomach when he hears Y/N’s amused giggle from the other end.

“I am not a fan of this either, you know.” Smiles Y/N. ”But I’m glad it’s you I can be so uncomfortable with.” Shouto can’t help, but giggle. This is the weirdest, and the most honest compliment he has ever gotten in his life. “I am opening up to you and you have the audacity to laugh in my face, alright!” Laughs Y/N, not even trying to act “offended”.

Funnily enough, this is all it took for Shouto to let himself completely loose, tension evaporating from his body like the summer rain on the hot concrete in the middle of a heatwave.

“I am really glad it’s you, too.” Shouto can’t help but smile; actually smile, a sudden surge of happiness running through his veins making the corners of his mouth turn up. Shouto’s eyes shine with the sudden emotion, making him look younger and carefree.

If Y/N’s breath hitches by the sudden sight, Shouto does not realize.

What he does realize though, is his own alien emotions towards the person on the other end; the butterflies, the shared happiness, the sudden need to protect their bubble; because what was once Shouto’s little secret hideout is now a home of two; it took Y/N a day to claw their way into Shouto’s heart permanently.

“So I had this idea… Can I scoot closer?”

Y/N’s voice is full of childish excitement and hidden awkwardness; while his body twitches uncomfortably by the thought of being so close to a stranger, Shouto’s heart thinks otherwise; he can’t help but nod with anticipation. Y/N indeed scoots closer after a few moments of hesitation; and for Shouto’s surprise, he doesn’t mind the sudden closeness - if you can even call sitting next to each other that - at all. He can’t help, but search for the eyes of the other; deep inside, he’s still terrified that people will see the ugliness of his soul when they’re too close, or his ugliness in general. His scar might look cool and edgy from far away, but he’s more than aware of how disgusting it looks like up close with it’s bumps and random discolorations through half of his face; but instead of disgust, his eyes are met with pure wonder; Y/N’s eyes shine with appreciation, looking deep into the heterochromatic eyes; Shouto can’t seem to look away as he usually does when someone tries to make an eye contact; he just stares back, dumbfounded, incapable of words.

“This went better than I expected” A sudden blush appears on Y/N’s face, making them look soft and adorable; personality traits Shouto never thought will ever see in another human being with his own eyes.

“Cute…” mumbles Todoroki, not even realizing he said the words out loud. As soon as his brain catches up with his mouth, the left side of his face literally flames up, making his companion jump in their seat. “I… didn’t mean to say that… out loud.” Shouto looks away while cooling himself down.

“So… your quirk acts up when you’re embarrassed.” Y/N states the obvious with a soft smile on their lips. “That’s so…sweet.” Giggles his companion with an obvious blush on their face.

“So what’s the idea?” Asks Todoroki, still hot from embarrassment.

“This is the idea. Well, a part of it.” Comes the answer.

Weirdly enough, even though it makes no sense for the mismatched eyed hero, he doesn’t question it further. The happy smile on Y/N’s lips is enough for him as an answer.

This is how it all starts; with innocent conversations on the office sofa, early in the morning and late at night; when eating breakfast, lunch and dinner; if Shouto comes in sooner just to have an hour chatting with Y/N before his official start time, that’s a secret he will take to the grave with him. Shouto also doesn’t question why Y/N is in the building an hour before their official start; he surely believes he is the only one who’s stupid enough to spare so much of his free time on a random stranger.

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The life of a hero isn’t just about chats and giggles on an office sofa and filing paperwork.

Shouto was so comfortable with his new side kick he almost forgot the constant worry of loosing the other while in battle. As Y/N wasn’t allowed on the battlefield before completing their newcomer training, which is a month worth of training and studying while Shouto fought his battles alone as always, the first time Shouto sees Y/N in pain, it breaks him completely.

Shouto was always known to be a bit sensitive about his friends getting hurt “because of him”, especially after he had to fight his own brother to save his friends from a gruesome death, but this feeling in his chest was on another level.

Shouto always thinks it’s his fault when his partner gets injured; he thinks it should be him and only him baring scars and burns all over his body, and not being able to prevent others getting hurt next to him is nothing but an utter failure as a hero.

The half and half hero is usually cool headed enough to put his harmful thoughts away to think about them later, knowing it’s only the aftermath of all the trauma he had to live through in his childhood; but this time, his vision gets blurry with anger and frustration, his mind blank with the need to avenge, heart beating with the urge to terminate the villain who left his favorite person bleeding and terrified.

Today’s mission is the first big case the two had to work on since Y/N started. They spent the first few weeks doing smaller gigs to not make Y/N overwhelmed, but this case needed all the people available in the area.

The plan was easy; scatter around the area and catch the massive villain gang in the middle of the act.

Shouto and his agency was lucky enough to find the leader’s hideout, but they acted too quickly; their team was heavily outnumbered.

Being outnumbered wasn’t the main issue though; Shouto’s constant side glances to Y/N gave the leader the idea of making Y/N the main target to fuck with the famous hero.

This brings us to the the present Shouto, judgment clouded by fury and concern, the leader pierced to a wall by sharp icicles.

The mission is technically successful; except for the fact that the main villain has several icicles poking out of his body and is bleeding heavily to the floor under him.

“We are not murderers. We are fucking heroes, what the fuck were you thinking, Todoroki?!”

Shouto doesn’t know when did the fight end or how he ended up sitting on the floor, staring into the distance, with no thoughts or feelings whatsoever, nothing but heavy heartbeats and the lack of oxygen taking over his mind as the rescue team and the police takes over the area.

“I think he’s having a panic attack.” Comes a calm voice from next to him. When did Shinso join in? “I can brainwash him to breathe if you want.”

“D-don’t.” Interrupts a stuttering voice; a voice Shouto wanted to hear; no, NEEDED to hear.

“Shouto… breathe. Please.” A body plops down in front of him like a bag of potatoes, covered in blood and dust. “Sorry, I am going to touch you.” Y/N takes Shouto’s hand and puts it on their heart. They take a deep breath in, then out, slowly, their chest expanding and contracting under his cold hands. “Can you do this for me?”

Shouto can’t help but nod. He tries to mimic the motion, slowly but steadily taking an actual deep breath again. As Shouto’s dizziness disappears, he looks up at his savior; Y/N’s cheeks are dusty and tear stained, their costume torn and bloody in several different places. He can’t help the sudden urge to put his head on Y/N’s shoulder for a moment of peace, his hands slowly snaking around their waist to pull them close.

Shouto has no idea how does he even know how to embrace someone; he never in his life felt the urge to initiate such an intimate contact himself, but here he is, clinging to Y/N like a hurt Koala, walls down, surroundings ignored.

“You are hurt because of me.” Shouto sobs into Y/N neck, making their breath hitch from the sudden warmth on their shoulder. After a moment of hesitance, Y/N’s right hand finds their place in Shouto’s hair, slowly caressing the back of his neck, their other hand clutching the clothes on his back. Shouto can’t help the shiver going down his spine from the pleasant touch as he molds together with the broken body opposite of him, taking everything the other can give and giving it right back.

“WE are hurt, because we stupidly made our friendship obvious. But we lived and we learnt a good lesson today.” Mumbles the other, not letting go of the hero until the tension leaves his body at last.

The aftermath of the fight is awkward; Y/N and Shouto doesn’t talk about their warm embrace after they let go and the team decides to not mention the fact that they were staring at the two the whole time, utterly confused by the whole situation.

The first aid team does a quick job of cleaning up their wounds and Shouto gets shouted at by the police for almost killing a villain.

He takes the feedback with a straight face and goes back to his office like nothing happened, with Y/N by his side; words unspoken, feelings completely ignored.

“We will do better next time, Shou. The first time is always a mess.” Smiles Y/N, and Shouto’s not hundred percent sure if this is about the fight, or about the hug or both and he honestly doesn’t care.

“Hm.” He answers, lost in his own thoughts, barely listening.

Yeah. They will do better next time.

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First time touches.

Todoroki Shouto doesn’t feel awkward about sitting so close to Y/N anymore - instead he feels a sudden emptiness every time his new friends stands up to do the actual work they are payed for.

Y/N became much more to him than just a side kick; first, they became friends then evolved into companions; Y/N knew most of the secrets Shouto tried to hide all his life by now, they new about every scar Shouto wore inside and outside, and weirdly enough, Shouto didn’t even think about his inner “ugliness” anymore; Y/N’s honest, caring smile was enough to soothe his raging, self-hating soul. Their teamwork also got better since the accident; they learnt how to mask their emotions in a fight, they learnt how to work well as a team but the unspoken words were still trapped in Shouto’s heart, and he’s not sure he will ever be able speak up about them.

Since the “accident” the only touch they shared were the accidental leg bumps on their office sofa and some softer touches while accessing each other’s body for damage after a fight, but the feeling was always there, in both of their hearts, eating them up from the inside, craving for more; fingers twitching between them on the sofa with the urge to caress the other’s skin for comfort, to get lost in the scent of each other after a dreadfully long day… He also felt the urge to feel the warmth of Y/N’s body slowly melting his ice cold heart so it can beat properly once more.

Shouto ignores all of his feelings once again; he probably doesn’t even know what they mean, to be honest; it all feels like a weird itch in the bottom of his heart; an itch he can’t physically scratch.

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“Let’s get some work done, boss.”

Shouto feels like he just woke up from a weird fever dream when Y/N turns their head to the office table, which is flooded with half-done paperwork.

“5 more minutes?”

The hero is really… needy today. Waking up drenched in sweat because of a terrible nightmare does that to people.

“My shift has started 15 minutes ago.” Y/N giggles, clearly amused by the longing look on Todoroki’s face. “I’ll stay if you give me your hand.”

“Okay.” Comes the easy answer, which makes them both extremely surprised by the sudden change of attitude - Why does he feel excitement instead of the usual dread, when Y/N takes his hand to hold it in their own? What is this weird electricity in his body? Why is the itch worse now, Wh….

“You okay?” Y/N gives Shouto’s hand a concerned squeeze then lets it go, worried about him being uncomfortable; but the truth is, Shouto’s not uncomfortable, just extremely confused; confused by his own racing heart as Y/N’s soft fingers touch his cold skin, confused by the warmth spreading in his chest after the short contact, confused by the sudden emptiness and longing when the contact ends.

Shouto never understood the word “touch starved” - until this moment.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have done that…”

There is a lot of things Shouto hates, but what he hates the most these days is the lethargic look on Y/N’s usually cheery face.

“You know that I hate when people touch me.” He admits with a slight blush on his face.

“I’m sor…”

“Let me finish.” Interrupts Shouto and takes Y/N’s hands in his. Y/N’s eyes are filled with tears and utter confusion; he hates this misunderstanding so much. “I panicked.” He admits, slowly exploring Y/N hands with his fingers; he takes a mental note of every curve while he speaks. Why? He has no idea. “I panicked because it feels… different. It’s warm and safe. I trust you so much it freaks the shit out of me.” Says Shouto, voice trembling just enough to make his internal breakdown obvious.

Y/N’s tears fall from their face, their thumb slowly caressing Shouto’s scarred hand with the utmost care and love.

… Love?

Is this love?

This tight feeling in his chest every time he sees Y/N smile at him, the sudden change of his heart rate after their sudden touch; the exact opposite of how he feels with everyone else… and the longing every time Shouto goes home after a long shift… is this why he can’t stop thinking about Y/N, even when he’s dead tired?

His internal struggle comes to an end when Y/N asks the most dreaded question of Shouto’s existence:

“Do you trust me enough to let me touch your scar then?”

Shouto’s not sure if the question is for him or it’s just an accidental internal monologue coming out loud, judging by the look on Y/N’s face. They look conflicted by their own question but they don’t back up, so neither is Shouto.

“I do trust you enough for that, Y/N, yes.” He answers with a slight blush on his face. “But why would you want to do that?”

“It’s a part of my old plan; because I see you looking in the mirror and changing the angle so you don’t need to look at that side of yours. And it breaks my heart.”

Shouto is not sure if he wants to cry or he wants to run away or both. When he looks into Y/N’s eyes he can see a slight hesitation; he nods and releases Y/N’s hand, his posture tense but ready for the challenge. As their hand gets closer and closer to the dreaded area, he flinches out of habit; no one ever touched his scar with pure intentions.

“Why do you look so scared?” Y/N stops in their tracks, their hand barely touching his cheek. Their fingers slowly find the burnt scar, slowly caressing the sensitive area, feeling out every bump hidden under the soft skin. Shouto’s eyes prickle with unshed, happy tears; there are no words to describe his feelings right now, but if he would need to try he would say it’s… the feeling of being accepted or the happiness of being touched by the most important person in Shouto’s life - Because he can ignore his feelings as much as he wants to but even Shouto is emotionally intelligent enough to know how important Y/N is to him, in every way possible.

“That scar is not… too pleasant to touch.” Mumbles the hero while putting his hand over the one on his scar. He slowly takes Y/N’s hand off his face and puts it in his lap to save them from the “terrible experience”. For his surprise, this doesn’t stop Y/N, it only encourages them to do more; in just a few seconds, Shouto’s senses are filled with Y/N, soft lips touch the broken skin on his cheek, peppering small kisses all over the scarred area. Shouto’s breath hitches while his body tenses up, but as Shouto’s nose gets filled with his favorite scent in the whole world, his body deflates and melts into Y/N’s arms. His heart might have a hard time with the sudden closeness, beating out of his rib cage giving him a slight anxiety, but for the first time in his life, Shouto feels like he’s where he is supposed to be; he’s safe, accepted and loved with all his flaws and “ugliness”.

“Nothing about your is ugly, Shou. You are the most beautiful person I’ve ever met, inside and outside, and I’ll do everything to make you understand that.” Y/N moves back just a tiny bit to be able to see Shouto’s face, their hand now back on the burnt area to prove their point.

So this is what it feels like to love and to be loved; because fuck, Shouto is head over heels for this person, he always was; from the first moment he looked up from his interview papers a year ago; his heart couldn’t stop racing, every time they were in the same room.

He can see it now; the truth behind all the mysterious feelings he felt in the last year. It was adoration.

“Everything?” The sudden eye contact makes Y/N blush even more; they can feel Shouto’s breath on their lips with how close they are to each other. “Can you kiss me, then?”

Even Shouto is surprised by his own bravery, but he can’t help himself; the sudden wave of new emotions make him feel like he can have anything in the world.

“I thought you’ll never ask.” Smiles Y/N and closes the gap between the two.

First, Shouto has no idea what he is supposed to do; he feels clumsy and useless, but the feeling of Y/N’s soft lips on his is so good he stops caring after a few moments of hesitation.

Shouto slowly moves his lips and indulges in the tickling sensation; the kiss is warm and sweet like the freshly made coffee on the coffee table, and it only gets sweeter when Y/N finally melts into his arm completely and there isn’t a single inch between the two.

“We really need to work now.” Chuckles Y/N between two wet kisses. Shouto murmurs something under his nose, and initiates another deep kiss, making Y/N shiver in a new way.

“5 more minutes?” Shouto beams, not even waiting for an answer; the hard press on Shouto’s lips is enough of an answer itself.

Todoroki Shouto hated himself more than he hated his enemies, but with Y/N by his side, he feels like he will be able to love himself a little bit more.

Y/N’s plan worked perfectly.

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The present

“So what’s going on in that complicated mind of yours that makes you ignore me of all people?” Y/N pouts in the distance, clearly offended by the hero’s neglect.

“Is it too cheesy and “gross” to say, I was thinking about you?” Smiles Shouto, wider than ever, his whole face beaming with happiness and love.

Y/N can’t help the blush crawling up their neck. They slowly make their way to their favorite sofa and plop down in Shouto’s lap.

“If it makes you smile this sweetly, I don’t mind the cheesiness.” Y/N smiles, their hand around Shouto’s shoulders, leaving a tiny kiss on the man’s lips before going back to work.

Shouto doesn’t even try to hide the lovesick smile on his face; for the first time in his life, he’s happy and proud to be alive.

The End

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#shouto x reader #shouto todoroki #shouto todoroki x reader #fluff #Shouto Todoroki x Y/N #todoroki x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #Todoroki Shouto x GN reader #todoroki fluff

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driftwccds · 23 days

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-ˋˏ ꒰ 🐚 ꒱ ── the odysseus : a character study ( death by boating accident tw ).

the 35 ft white sailboat parked at the valparaiso marina is made out of lightweight aluminum, teak wood and fiberglass. it’s small enough that a one-man operation is not too physically strenuous, but the boat itself is showing it’s age and previous neglect : the hull is crusted with barnacles. the steel railings are starting to rust. the upper deck creaks with each step, and if rohan is docked at the marina instead of on the water it’s likely because he’s replacing rotting boards, ropes, and corroded parts inside the motor. netting hangs from the side, disappearing into the dark water of the marina below.

the odysseus was originally built in the late 1980s. rohan impulsively bought it five years ago off the coast of vancouver while on bereavement leave after the death of his mother and sister. when he bought it the boat was practically unusable, and because of that it was cheap. equipped with nothing but lots of extra time and a desperate need to distract himself from the crushing reality of his grief ( and the guilt of not returning home for the funerals ) rohan spent half a year teaching himself the basics of boat repair instead of dealing with his own problems : he replaced the sails, stripped the plumbing, gutted the interior until he was able to take it out for the first time.

a set of horizontal doors open to a ladder that leads below-deck. his living space is uncomfortably small, especially for a grown man : a kitchenette with a stovetop, a seating area that’s become a makeshift workbench, an archway that opens onto a bed. rohan is at least tidy, if not particularly organized. empty surface area is artfully cluttered with different equipment he’s tinkering with, half-finished composition notebooks full of numbers, books he’s in the middle of reading. sticky notes dangle from cupboards with coordinates and irrelevant and months-old reminders like call dad and make dentist appointment, all of which are incomplete and entirely forgotten about ( or avoided. )

once the boat was in working order, it was only a matter of time before he quit the research position he worked so hard to get and travelled down the west coast a free unemployed man. while he was traveling he started to collect an arsenal of makeshift camera equipment and, thus, unique footage of different kinds of sea life. rohan considers himself more as a documentarian than a scientist. because he never studied marine biology, he doesn’t feel comfortable as a voice in any scientific communities, but he still frames all of his work through the lens of education rather than entertainment. his goal is to showcase the beauty of the ocean, but also to document animal behaviours so they can be studied in better detail by people who have a better idea about what they’re looking at. rohan understands just how fragile alive things are, and how fast some of them are disappearing, and he’s determined to document them before that happens.

during this time he got a lot of random, unstructured footage, which he started gathering into a portfolio collected on youtube and tiktok. he refuses to be on camera, so the platforms themselves didn’t draw in money or attention, but it allowed him to showcase what it was he wanted to do to people who mattered ( and gave him some extra funds to cover the expenses of being alive. ) rohan was able to start applying for grants and contracts, and his reputation within academic circles quickly shifted from up and coming climate scientist to nomadic oceanic videographer ; most of his contracts are to film and edit together raw footage into informational videos for conservation groups or educational institutions.

beside the ladder are a twin set of metal lockers for storage : spare oxygen tanks and his scuba equipment, gas canisters, first aid, flares. an apocalyptic preparation kit for the worst case scenarios. a calendar swings precariously attached to the teak wood wall above, persistently falling off the wall with the ebb and flow of the waves, marking important deadlines. the calendar is carefully plotted out, days crossed out and circled in red ink. it’s easy to lose track of time when you spend days on the ocean at a time.

when he’s in between grants or contracts rohan has free reign to track and study whatever he’s passionate about in the moment. during these periods he usually studies the seasonal ecosystems just off the coast of valparaiso, with his topic of interest changing depending on the time of year and the animals that are nearby. the reefs off the beaches aren’t particularly deep so he usually doesn’t bother with heavy tanks or equipment ; rohan was effectively born freediving── diving without tanks and heavy equipment── in the kelp forests just off the coast of falmouth, so he doesn’t rely on equipment as much. when he invites people out diving with him, it’s usually within sight of the beaches and the marina.

every few weeks he takes longer excursions further out into the pacific. these are generally for a specific purpose or to track and get footage of a specific animal on request── migrating whales, hammerhead sharks around the seamounts, sea turtles── and he will spend multiple days at a time out on the water without coming back into port. he doesn’t bring people out on multi-day trips like this ; he does these alone, because he doesn’t like the idea of being stuck with anyone with no escape for an extended period of time, and because if something happens, he wants to be sure that he’s the only one put at risk. these are usually the times where he digs out all of his actual diving gear because the water is deeper and he wants to be down there for longer, though he will still freedive just for fun.

the decor inside the boat is sparse and impersonal; everything serves a functional purpose rather than aesthetic purpose. there’s one exception. tucked in a back corner, half-hidden by the safety equipment piled in front of them, old photos are taped to an elegantly decorated box : an older woman holding a giant spider crab, that same woman and a younger verison of her smiling and waving towards the camera, a family standing in front of a wild, overgrown garden near the sea. unfortunately the movement of the waves don’t allow for trinkets that aren’t tied down, so inside the box sit the sentimental items that rohan can’t bring himself to get rid of, such as the shark tooth his sister gave hi when he was 7 or the collection of seashells from falmouth he used to keep on the windowsill of his college dorm. the most recently addition is a basket of dead things, used to make a makeshift offerenda luna insisted upon after finding a shedded crab skin their first dive together. rohan wears the key to the box around his neck, still carrying the secrets him and his sisters used to hide inside it when they were kids.

rohan’s obsession with the ocean is bordering on religious. it’s in part a regression, coming from an attempt to reconnect with his childhood, aka the fond memories he has with a family he won’t see again. it became very obvious once the accident happened how little rohan actually cared about the conferences and research labs, and he was able to remember the reason why he went into ocean sciences in the first place── not for prestige or money or to save the world, but because he was raised by people who loved the ocean and it’s part of his dna.

the odysseus is where his self-inflicted isolation started. although he’s well aware of the dangers of diving alone, he’s more likely to sacrifice his personal safety for the serenity of being the only human for miles or for the efficiency of knowing he can complete his work on his own. it’s easier to pour all of his energy outside of himself and into something that he thinks is productive and helpful ; and because the things he does are productive and helpful, rohan doesn’t have to stop, pause, process everything that happened in the last half-decade. it’s likely that he not stumbled into the opportunity he may have been forced into working through some of these issues, but for now, if the sea decides to take him and reunite him with the people he's lost, then he will happily go with it.

#rohan kaur : musings #rohan kaur : character study #valpohqinspo #death tw #tw death #by boating accident #not him tho #obviously

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comphy-and-cozy · 2 years

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can you do

‘come back to bed’ + fluff 29 with jt comph!! I love him and I live for ppl confessing they lie each other holy hell

as I said, if I ever shy away from a request about joseph taylor compher please call for aid bc it means something is terribly wrong

here's some good ol', heart melting, disgustingly sweet fluff with my main mans

Prompt: "Come back to bed."

Pairing: JT Compher x gn!Reader

Word Count: 814

Warnings: call your dentist bc this shit will rot your teeth, very briefly implied smut

It’s the first day of the holiday break, and JT was adamant that the only item on his agenda was to do absolutely nothing before family arrives tomorrow. So, when you wake up before him to find him still asleep, you take a moment to admire the softness of his features, the dip of his nose, the fullness of his lips, the steady rise and fall of his chest that’s smattered in coppery hair. Being on the road so often during the season, with morning practices all of the times in between, it’s rare that you get to spend a lazy morning with him, and even more rare to be able to appreciate how handsome your man is without him becoming bashful.

Once it’s clear that he isn’t waking up any time soon, you carefully slip out of bed and make your way downstairs to put on a fresh pot of coffee – something you know he’ll appreciate whenever he does rise from his slumber. It’s quiet in the house, peaceful, with a subtle but excited air as it awaits company and newly-created core memories with JT and his family.

The decadent smell of fresh brewed coffee begins to waft through the air as the pot fills up, and you pour yourself a mug. Grabbing a blanket, you wrap it over your shoulders before you move to stand by the window and watch the way the sun rises over the mountains in the distance, admiring the beautiful view.

You can hear the vibration of your phone against the countertop, pulling yourself away from the window to retrieve it. Smiling to yourself when you see JT’s name flashing at the top, signaling an incoming FaceTime call, you swipe to answer.

“Good morning,” you greet, giggling at his hair that’s sticking up in every direction. He looks disgruntled, a sign that he slept very, very well.

“Baby,” he whines, his voice muffled by the covers, “come back to bed.”

“You were asleep, J,” you say, “I didn’t want to wake you up.”

JT huffs, looking at you through the camera, a slightly bashful expression flitting onto his handsome face. “I wanted to wake up next to you.”

You can’t help the smile that forms despite his cheesy confession. For a guy who can be such a grouch, he sure loves to show his affection behind closed, locked, and firmly vaulted doors. “You better hope EJ doesn’t catch you being the world’s softest simp.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” he challenges with a grin.

“No, but don’t test me,” you wink.

“Are you coming back to bed?” he asks again with a pout, offering his best puppy dog eyes.

“I’ll be up in a sec,” you say, hanging up before he can reply, prompting him to shout down the stairs, “Hurry up!”

He’s more apologetic, though, once he sees that the extra cup of coffee in your hand is the reason for your delay. He accepts the faded University of Michigan mug from you — his favorite — but is quick to discard it on his side table before turning to tug you into his arms. With a squeal, you earn another whine from him when you tell him you have to set your coffee down, too.

“Do you want me to spill it? Then we’d have to get out of bed to wash the sheets,” you point out.

JT huffs again, conceding defeat, and releasing his hold on you just slightly so you can lean over to set your own mug on the end table. As soon as he hears the ceramic scraping the wood, his arms lock solidly around your middle and pull you back into him.

“Much better,” he murmurs, lips pressed to the side of your head. His beard scratches the skin of your forehead, but you don’t mind, nuzzling into him even further. You’re content to listen to the beat of his heart, his fingers stroking slow circles into the skin on your arm.

It’s warm under the covers, due in part to the thickness of your duvet, the other part simply from the heat of his body against yours, as the two of you doze on and off for the next few hours. When JT’s hands inevitably begin to wander, the coolness of the air on your skin as he strips off your pajamas is welcome, heat of varying kinds soaking into your body.

It’s simple, but more than fulfilling, as you enjoy the peaceful moments together, soft calls of his name into the quiet of the morning. You’re in love, drowning in it, and you know you’ll never forget days like today, when all of the stresses of the outside world are locked out, dulled by the arms and lips of your lover.

And though your coffee has gone cold on the nightstand, you have all the warmth that you need inside two strong arms.

#c does requests #jt compher fic #jt compher blurb #jt compher imagine #hockey fic #nhl imagine

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happysparklingshadows · 10 months

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Time May Change Me

Chapter 1 ❀ Chapter 2 ❀ Chapter 3

Summary: Turns out that having messy friends will cause some mess in your own life. Good thing that the mess Lola got, gave her a golden opportunity to keep getting to know this one pretty loser more.

Warnings: Dina and Jesse being sluts and Lola low key being a little mean @jinxtheplanet

Word Count: 3.6k

My eyes reluctantly opened as the sun shined onto my face hitting my eyes. I turned on Dina’s bed as my head held a hot pressure on my crown. I try to lull myself back to sleep, and I feel the warmth of the blankets.

“Fuck, Jesse! God!” A loud moan came out of the bathroom, adjoined to the bedroom. My eyes open wide at the sounds, and I sit up. I slowly awake and become alert to the slapping sounds and male whimpers from the small room beside me. “Ah-Ah-Ah-right fucking there, Jesse!”

Of course, they’re fucking! They are constantly fucking!.

I got up hastily, threw my backpack on, and ran out of the room. I left the house as quickly as possible and didn’t realize that the morning sun was just peeking out of the skyline. The sun was just hitting my eyes in the correct position. Fucking great.

I walk home in my clothes, and my makeup smudges around my eyes. I feel myself growing tired again from the lack of natural sleep. I can still feel the moonshine and joints in my system and realize how lucky I am that I am not going on patrol today.

I eventually get to my house, and I quietly open the door. I walk into the kitchen to grab a glass of water but stop when I see Tommy sipping on some coffee, looking out the kitchen window over the sink.

“You know, you don’t have to sneak in.” Tommy chuckled and sipped loudly on the coffee. “But you better pray Maria doesn’t see you because she thought you were just at Dina’s last night.”

“Okay, thank you, Tommy.” Quietly say and race over to the sink, pulling the class from the drying rack and drinking some water. “I’m going to take a nap now.”

“It’s 5 am, girl.” He said back to me in disbelief.

“I don’t know where you got that tone from, but I think you know about power naps, old man.” I laugh at him and go up the stairs quickly.

“Whatever, punk; I expect you at the gun range tonight, though.”

“You got it, old man.” I yawn as I reach the stair's top and go straight to the left of my bedroom. I rip my coat off, flip my shoes off with my steps, and flop onto the bed.

My love, I have come back to you. Sorry, I slept in another bed. I smile at the thought as I cuddle into my blankets.

The day went on like any other day. Off reading my smutty books and knitting another blanket for someone. The house was quiet because I was the only home which was something I had to grow into throughout the years. My fingers skillfully hold the yarn between the thick knitting needles, braiding the wool into a blanket. When I am alone, my mind goes off on its own, and my body keeps going on like nothing.

When I was still in Kansa city’s QZ, I have left home alone a lot. My parents were attentive at home and gave me love whenever they could, mainly consisting of advice on fighting correctly and kisses on the forehead. My dad was a smuggler, and my mother was the only dentist in the QZ, making it challenging to be home with me when I was home from school. I loved being alone at one time. I acted like an adult in my home and would do anything I wanted, although I wasn’t a kid under strict parents. But once, my mom and dad died, I was all alone for the first time. In the Qz, there was always noise and people in your building. The day in Emporia, Kansas, when my dad ran off from me, will always be in my mind. I remember my consciousness pulling back for the first time and not remembering much more after a distance gunshot ran out. I have never been terrific on my own, even though I can be alone. I had to hide parts of myself and let this numbness push me further away from the world. My mind forced me to observe and not engage, letting the beast I carry take control. I was behind a wall of glass, looking through to the world. I wasn’t even Lola anymore; I was just instinct. Coming to Jackson, the scariest thing I had to learn was being alone again. Maria had left for a council meeting, and I woke up from a nap to find myself alone in the house. I was convinced I had been left alone again and started shaking uncontrollably. Memories were playing over and over again without consent or permission. Memories of death and bitterness the world have shown me. Maria found me in the living room in the fetal position and uncontrollably crying. But as time went by in Jackson, I felt safe again and had a sense of security in being left alone, although it took longer than I want to admit.

Knocking at the front door pushed me out of my thoughts. I put down the knitting I was doing, walked to the door, and opened it to regret not fixing my hair quickly.

“Ellie, what are you doing here?” I asked and started to rub the button on my cardigan.

“Hey, Lola, you look nice tonight.” Ellie smiled at me. She stood in front of me in jeans and a dark blue flannel, showing off her tattooed arm, and had her hair in a loose bun. “I wanted to tell you all that just went down at the patrol office.”

Oh, shit! Did I do something? Shit, I didn’t do anything!

“Oh, god, what happened? Did something bad happen?” I asked, my worry clear on my face.

“No! No, but I wanted to tell you we’re partners now.” Ellie reassured me, but I couldn’t put my finger on it, but it was a mix between happy and conflicted.

Oh, Ellie, aren’t you cocky? If you are whipped already, you could just say.

I chuckle and take a step back, “What do you mean? Dina has always been my partner.”

“Well, I guess the two of them came into the office to Joel and Tommy and said they would like to be assigned together after we came back from our patrol. I offered to become your partner so there wasn’t any confusion with getting a new person and everything.” She rambled on and looked at her feet, and a blush grew as she continued talking to me.

I smirked at her and lightly nudged her foot with mine, making her look up at my face. Ellie was blushing but tried to keep her face neutral, and she wasn’t good at hiding her feelings. “Ellie, that was a good idea. I think we will work fine together. But I have to yell at Dina for not telling me first.” I joked.

Ellie chuckled at me and looked at her shoes again, “Okay, good. I thought you were going to yell at me for this.”

I smile at her as I put on some shoes, “Why would I be angry at you?”

“I didn’t stop Dina or Jesse and kinda wanted a change.” She said, her face crunched up in a face again, and she looked away.

Holyshitholyshitholyshitholyshit, Ellie wanted meeeee!

“Good thing, I wanted a change too,” I smirked at her and finished tying my shoes. I stood up from the stairs in front of the main door. “You wanna show me their sorry asses?”

“S-sure thing,” Ellie said, her face crunching again at her voice.

Jesus, she is so fucking awkward. It’s so hot.

I smile at her and leave the house, locking it behind me. I looked at my reflection in the window and decided to fix my hair. My hair was half up and half down with a ponytail, so I tried to get my baby hair and retie the hair. As I was finger-combing the hair, a familiar pressure was on my neck.

Energy and pressure pressed on the back of my neck. My mouth became dry, and my fingers fidgeted with my hair. I let my eyes flick over in the glass. Ellie stood behind me with her green eyes locked onto the back of my head, her lip was in her teeth, and her eyes scanned over my back. Her eyes stopped at my ass, and I couldn’t help the blush burning on my cheeks, a smile breaking through my face.

I turn back quickly, Ellie’s eyes snap up to my eyes, not knowing I caught her, and she smiles at me. “Lead the way, gorgeous.”

“I will. Thank you.” I say sweetly and with my best doe eyes. I step closer to Ellie and look slightly down at her, being only a few inches taller than the girl, “Let’s get going, partner.”

The walk to the Tipsy Bison was comfortable between us. Ellie and I walked in silence, only to be interrupted sporadically by the random greetings I would get from people on the street of Jackson. Ellie's eyes would widen whenever someone would greet her beside me, and she would wave back quickly and give a tight-lipped smile, and I peeked over at her every time she did. She wasn’t used to people greeting her like I was, but the comfort of knowing Ellie was going out of her isolation made me smile.

The fairy lights of the bar could be seen dancing on the ground outside of the bar. I turned my head to Ellie and said, “Wanna make a bet?”

“Sure,” Ellie smiled at me softly and looked away, “what are we betting?”

Oh, Ellie’s shy tonight. Alright.

“I bet Dina and Jesse are back together, and they are inside the bar right now, dance-fucking.”

“Ugh, I hate it when they do that.” Ellie groaned, dramatically turning her head back, “They always do that in front of us too. I don’t get it.”

“I get it. I think it's something people in love do.” I chuckled and shook my head, looking down at my hands as we walked closer to the bar. “But, I wouldn’t do it in public, no.”

Ellie chuckled at me and looked at my face. I couldn’t muster enough courage to look back at her, feeling the weight of her eyes on my cheeks, nose, and eyes. I couldn’t help but let my heart race.

You are not pretty enough… Stop smiling.

A familiar whisper echoes in my head, making me grow silent. I pull my lips tight as we walk into the bar, still not looking back at Ellie. The bar was full of people, and people were dancing on the floor, old country songs played romantically on the counter. The fairy lights hung lazily on the ceiling, and candles made at the community center were lit at each table. My eyes grew soft at the scene and the bar's energy, a welcoming place where people could be people. I have been inside the bar many times, but every time I walked in on the happy laughs and drunk talking, I felt so happy to be a part of it.

Dina and Jesse slowly danced with their foreheads touching; they looked at each other with adornment. Jesse’s hands were on her waist, and Dina’s was on his shoulders, snaking around his neck and kissing him softly. Tenderly they dance together as they murmur to each other.

God, I am going to vomit and die alone. I would kill to have that.

“Well, at least they aren’t dance-fucking.” Ellie said to me, making me snap my head back to her. I quickly change my face with a smile at her and force a chuckle.

“Yeah, now they are making love dancing.” Knowing that it didn’t land, I joke, “I owe you a drink because I was somewhat wrong.”

“Lola, you don’t owe me-”

“I owe you for picking me as a partner before I got stuck with someone I don’t know or like.” I chuckle and push her shoulder, “Besides, I need a drink, and you can get us a table.”

Ellie says softly back, looking away. “Okay. I’ll see what I can do.”

I quickly walk away from Ellie. My breath is getting trapped in my chest again, and I can’t stop my hands from shuddering under the weight of her eyes. I want her to look away but never take her eyes off me. She was so pretty and strong and confident, and I was me. I am Lola, and Lola doesn’t get the people she wants. She helps the people she wants to get who they want. Ellie will not want me when she gets closer to me like everyone else. I know that deep down because why did everyone before her leave me? It was because of me. I am a problem. I feel myself getting increasingly claustrophobic within my brain because Ellie is trying to get closer to me. It was too much change, too quickly.

“Hey, Seth, can I get two whisky lemonades?” I asked as I looked down at my hands.

“Yeah.” Seth blankly responded as he started to pour the drinks into glasses. “Do you want a water with-”

“Lola! Funny seeing you here!” Ben interrupts Seth as he approaches me, placing a hand on my arm. My face pulls into a frown, and my body stiffens. Ben was a skinny tall blonde with a mediocre face and personality that had too much confidence to be justified.

I look over at him without moving my head. I look him up and down. My lips purse in distaste, and I cross my arms, pushing his hand away. “Hi, Ben.” I sassed quickly at him and looked back to Seth, who had the drinks finished.

“Thanks, Seth,” I muttered, grabbing the drinks before walking from the bar.

“Hey, I was thinking about maybe dancing tonight. Would you like to dance with me?” Ben quickly asked me, grabbing my arm again. If you touch me one more fucking time…

“Sorry, I’m not dancing tonight,” I said, pushing his hand off of me again and walking back to Ellie, who was sitting at a table now with Jesse and Dina.

“Okay, I get it. Have a good night, princess!” Ben roared as he walked away with a huff. I rolled my eyes to the back of my head at him and continued to the table. The comment was loud enough that the table heard him. Ellie heard him, making her ears perk up at the pet name. Her lips pursed in disgust.

“Hey, fake bitches,” I groaned to the table as I sat down next to Ellie and across from Dina. I took a big gulp of my drink that burned the back of my throat. I look straight into Jesse’s eyes, “So, you stole my girl?” I said, deadly serious.

Jesse’s eyes widened as he lowered his glass, his face blank when he looked back at me. Dina bit her lip to hold back a laugh, and Ellie, next to me, stared at her drink, unmoving. “I didn’t-”

“YOU DID! You stole my girl, and you took her out of our bed this morning! You may be her boyfriend, but that woman right there!” I interrupted with a dramatic tone, pointing at Dina, “That is my sister. And, I think you need to be reminded of your place, Jesse.” then I looked back at Dina, who was bright red with lips twisted together to hold a laugh, “Dee, if you wanna fuck this meat-head then you can tell me so I don’t have to wake up to you two going at it.”

“You’re just mad you’re not getting any from anyone,” Jesse commented under his breath, making me snap my head at him.

I stare straight at him, my lip twitching from the smile forming, my eyes burning into Jessie's. I cracked like glass under his silence and let out a belly laugh, which triggered the other's loud laughter, except Ellie. Ellie chuckled at the laughter as she sipped on the drink. She glanced over at me but didn’t say anything.

“Okay, okay, I am not that mad,” I giggle and look at Dina, “but I would have liked to be told before it happened so we could discuss it, but I will have more fun with Ellie anyways, poser.” I continued. I lean into my seat, bumping shoulders with the quiet girl beside me. Ellie let out another halfhearted chuckle and a small smile at the table. She seemed to be inside her head tonight.

“I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t want to tell you yet because you would have convinced me to stay with you.” Dina laughed and drank the rest of her drink. She was glowing from the alcohol and seemed to be very happy. “I just thought it was a good idea for me and Jesse to see each other more.”

Yeah, that is such a good idea. I bet you are going to be fighting the whole time…

“You guys back together?” Ellie asked, sipping her drink slowly. I turn my head over to look at her. I see the crinkle at the top of her eyebrow and how her lips are smaller than average from her subtle grimace. I looked over her face and noticed the amount of micro freckles that littered her pale face. She looked away from me. I disconnect from the conversation and sip the rest of my drink. I start to count the freckles on her face.

21…22…23…24 Oh shit, she’s looking at me lookawaylookawaylookaway

“Are you even listening, Lola?” Ellie asked me. She glanced over at me with a more serious face.

“No, what?” I said bluntly, my cheeks heating up from getting caught looking at her, “I am a lightweight. You know this.”

Ellie chuckled, and a small smile cracked on her lips. I grin back at her. “I was saying I don’t have patrol until Sunday, so you got an extra day off.” She said again.

I grin wider at her, “Oh my god, your right! Good news for me!” I giggle and put my empty glass on the table.

Dina and Jesse talk to each other. Dina stands up suddenly and pulls Jesse up with her. Dina looks at me, forcing me to look back at her. “We’re returning to the dance floor; see you tomorrow Lola.”

“Uh, whatever. See you later.” I groan back at her with a fake glare to her. She only laughs and pulls the laughing man with her to their former position. I shake my head at the two and look over to Ellie.

When I look over to Ellie, she is already looking at me. Her emerald green eyes stared at my face. She looked lost inside her head again but with a face that was soft in its blankness. The weight of her eyes locking into my brown ones spread heat throughout my chest and an immediate pressure sent to my arousal. My shyness from earlier completely hid away when I felt the air around us at that moment, but the fear only grew in my gut. No person has ever made me shudder internally like the girl in front of me at this moment.

“You know that Ben has been looking at you all night?” Ellie asked seriously. She looked at me with her face turning back to her earlier look, with slight distaste.

I smile at her and shake my head, “I don’t care if he is looking at me. He can look as long as he wants; I don’t want him.”

“Well,” Ellie sighed and shook her head at me, not believing my flippancy about Ben, “Do you need someone to tell him to back off?”

My smile grows even bigger, “No, you don’t have to. I will tell him to back off; He’s not who I want.” I say to her softly, giving her my best doe eyes.

Ellie looks back at me, her face unchanged, but she shifts in her seat and raises an eyebrow. “Who do you want? Dina?”

I rolled my head back and laughed out loud. “I love Dina like a sister. She’s my best friend, but I have never had feelings for her.” I started looking at Ellie, rolling my eyes slightly. “You really think I want Dina?”

Ellie’s eyes widen, and she looks at her drink, taking a big gulp of the rest, making her face flinch slightly. “I don’t know you enough to know what you want.” She replied quietly, almost like she was thinking about that before she said it and it was confusing her a little bit, she started to pick at her cuticles.

My smile slowly fell at her words, reminding me of my last romantic situation, like a slap in the face. I look at my hands. “I mean, we aren’t that close, but now that we are partners. We have plenty of time to get to know each other.” I said back softly, and I looked back up to Ellie. “Now, I am done for the night. Would you mind walking me home?”

Ellie looked back at me like she was shocked when I asked her the question, but a smile grew. “Y-yeah, let’s get you home.”

#ellie williams #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams series #tlou #ellie tlou #tlou2 #lesbian

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snstse · 5 months

Text

Me, rating the main* XIII and XIII cast names:

⭐️ - Great.

✅ - Okay.

❌ - Dislike.

*defined as either the protagonists or otherwise characters significant to the plot of the series as a whole.

—

Lightning

⭐️ Reasoning for her chosen name is funny when you consider she chose it as a teenager. Cringe queen.

⭐️ Two syllable name that’s easy to say.

✅ Combos well with her last name. Lightning Thunder. Also kind of funny.

✅ Can be shortened to Light as a nickname, thankfully.

✅ Thankfully was not named this by her parents… sort of.

❌ Too many letters. Makes misspelling it easy in tags.

Total score: Yeah, it’s okay.

—

Snow

⭐️ Four letter name. Short and easy to spell.

⭐️ Single syllable.

⭐️ It is soft, like him. When frozen, it is hard like his abs. Very clear symbolism.

✅ Kind of silly name for a silly man. Honestly, would not want it to be changed.

❌ This is a name you’d give your pet, not your child.

❌ Very un-intimidating. Imagine meeting the Patron and his name is… Snow. And he’s 6’ 7” and depressed.

❌ Last name is hard to spell. I’ve misspelled it four times and it embarrassed me. I’m making him change his last name to Farron when he marries Serah.

Total score: Whoever named you just looked outside the window when it was snowing, didn’t they?

—

Hope

⭐️ Four letter name.

⭐️ Single syllable.

✅ Hope becoming the symbol of hope is cool I guess, but comes off as a little heavy handed.

❌ Honestly, kind of confusing when characters say ‘hope’ with the lowercase ‘h.’

Total score: Nora named him and thank god for that. Bartholospew would’ve named him something pretentious and hard to spell, I bet.

—

Vanille

⭐️ Fun to say and pretty spelling.

⭐️ Two syllable.

⭐️ You can make lesbean puns—‘cause get it? Vanilla is a bean? And Vanille is an alt spelling of Vanilla? And Vanille is a lesbian? And—

✅ Despite being 7 letters, it gets a pass. I’ve never misspelled it.

❌ The idea that someone would name their child Vanilla… Again, that is what you’d name an animal, not a person.

Total score: ‘Vanilla Lesbean’ deserves to take off. It’s a good pun, I swear.

—

Sazh

⭐️ Doesn’t seem to be a real name, but I feel like it works really well.

⭐️ Feels amazing to say.

⭐️ Four letter.

⭐️ Single syllable.

⭐️ Incorporates the very rare letter ‘z.’ Very memorable to me, as a result.

✅ Rhymes with jazz. I like to think Dajh’s is taken from ‘adagio’ — to keep with the musical theme. Just wish they’d take the music theming further. Like, is his hobby playing the sax? Is his favorite genre jazz? Give me more on this man!!!

❌ I created an annoying coworker who says “Why so sassy, Sazh-y?” to him way, way too much when he’s even a little snarky; which, of course, aggravates him.

❌ He’d be too easy to name-search online by nosy people and weirdos. Sometimes, having a unique name isn’t all that great…

Total score: Katzroy… Sazh is a cool cat… Oh my god. The cat imagery is everywhere.

—

Fang

⭐️ Four letter.

⭐️ Single syllable.

⭐️ A cool name for a cool lady… Whoever named her got lucky she ended up becoming a hunter and not, like, a dentist (which would also be fitting, but in a bad way.)

✅ Not very exciting, but straightforward about who she is I guess.

❌ Another name you’d give to an animal. Or a wolf OC. A very cool wolf OC.

❌ Personally, I would not want to be named after a bone, especially a tooth.

Total score: Could be better.

—

Serah

⭐️ Name meaning ‘princess,’ which is so fitting given how she has two ‘knights’ (and one, literally, becomes a knight.)

⭐️ One letter off from ‘seraph.’ She’s an actual angel, so this fits.

⭐️ Unconventional spelling of a common name. I like how the ‘e’ elevates it—makes it more elegant and tied it together.

⭐️🎉 5 letter names are perfect.

⭐️ Two syllable.

⭐️ Laura Bailey.

✅ When you think about it, if not for the spelling, she’s kind of an oddball for having such a normal, common name.

❌ Serah’s actually perfect. There’s nothing to see here.

Total score: I’m going to marry her.

—

Noel

⭐️ Four letter.

⭐️ Single syllable.

⭐️ I like how it’s pronounced. I think the common pronunciation is ‘no-elle.’ It’s cute and the superior way of saying it.

✅ Him being a ‘savior’ of humanity like a certain biblical figure is cool I guess. Considering how it all turned out though…

❌ All the Christmas puns… eugh. And the Christ = Kreiss thing? I think I’d get sick of it.

❌ Me and my sib actually argued over how it’s pronounced and they called me dumb. Well, I have over 80 hours of proof, so suck it!!!

Total score: God, there are so many four letter, single syllable names in this game.

—

Yeul

⭐️ Four letter.

⭐️ Single syllable.

⭐️ Love the spelling. Very pretty.

⭐️ Rare letter name starting with ‘y.’ ‘Y’ names are very pretty and elegant to me, I think.

⭐️ Soft-sounding name for a soft-speaking girl.

✅ Rhymes with ‘mule.’ Mules are actually cool, so only kind of unfortunate.

❌ Christmas puns and way too match-y with Noel.

Total score: I want to eat a roll cake.

—

Caius

✅ 5 letter.

✅ Two syllable.

✅ Cool, but slightly edgy combination of letters and pronunciation. Fitting for a dude dressed in purple and voiced by Liam O’Brien.

✅ Liam O’Brien.

❌ Stabbed Serah, which is why he gets no stars.

Total score: I don’t hate him, I just don’t forgive him for stabbing my wife.

—

Lumina

⭐️ Six letter.

⭐️ A pleasant-sounding three syllable name.

⭐️ Very pretty.

⭐️ Lumina meaning ‘lights’ and her being a container for both Lightning and Serah… whew. They got me on this one.

✅ Actually funny to imagine if Serah was like, “What if we named our daughter ‘Lumina?’” and Snow immediately vetoes it LMAO. Gets a checkmark, because this name is just ruined for him.

❌ I’m actually kind of mad I can’t use this for my fankid SMH. Damn it, Lumina… could you have trolled Snow a little less.

Total score: Just a dang good name.

#uhhh what do i tag as #i put way too much work to just leave it as a shitpost to drown in my endless noncoherent ramblings #ffxiii #no one uses that tag right #i sure as shit don’t LOL #special treat for the five ppl following me and two ppl who actually check that specific tag ig

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sadnesslaughs · 2 months

Text

Every time you die, you receive points based on your actions while living that you can spend on your next life or save. Your past lives have been saving points for a very long time.

(A response to a writing prompt)

God didn’t expect a knock at his door this evening, especially since a meeting with God costed a mortal one hundred thousand life points. He stroked his wiry beard hairs, grooming the white beard before letting the stranger in. Even if he was God, those omnipotent powers of his didn’t fully extend into the realm of heaven. Sure, he could see and control everything on Earth, but Heaven had its own rules, allowing the angels and citizens a sense of privacy. After all, nothing bad can ever happen in heaven, so God doesn’t need to have eyes everywhere.

He expected to be greeted by an angel. Perhaps a new angel that hadn’t fully learned how to book a meeting with God through their calendar system. Instead, he was greeted by a human, one with greasy black hair and a slack posture. The man looking perpetually tired, still carrying the weight of his Earthly struggles on his shoulders. A weight that would soon be lifted by the comforts of heaven.

“Ah, my child. How nice of you to visit! You must be a devoted believer to use that many life points on me. It’s rare to find anyone that’s saved up that many points. Most use them as soon as they become available.”

“Guess I’m smarter than most.” Alex scanned the room, surprised to find that God’s office looked like a mix of a typical business conference room and a dentist’s office. The pristine wooden table surrounded by a sterile white wall, with only a single window that let in the blinding white angelic light of the clouds outside. “I’m not even really a believer. Well, I believe you exist, would be weird if I didn’t. I mean, in the sense that I don’t believe in the rules you set for humanity.”

God watched Alex groan as he settled into the office chair, body cracking as it pushed against the stiff back of the office chair. After letting the man get comfortable, God spoke. “I’m sorry you don’t agree with my rules. If you wish to propose any changes, you can always ask an angel. They will happily put forward any proposed changes to me. Or, you can tell me about them now. I’m not a tyrant. I will listen to constructive criticism.”

The man smirked. “Yes, because we’ve seen so many changes over the last thousand years.” Alex teased, hanging an arm over the chair’s back. “Don’t be sorry about it. I’ll do a much better job when I’m a God.”

“When you’re a God? How do you intend to do that?”

“With my points. If a person cashes in ten million points, you will make them a god. That’s what it says on the rewards system you implemented. I wish to cash in my ten million points.” Alex saw God freeze, thinking over what the human before him was saying. Quickly, he pulled out a book from a drawer in his desk. The book fluttered open as soon as it hit the desk, landing on Alex’s name.

“Over eleven million points… How did you save that many? It’s not possible to do such a thing. Humans are greedy by nature. How did you resist the other temptations? You could have been a king, politician, or a celebrity. Why do you want to be a god? Surely one of your other lives would have given into temptation.” He slammed the book shut, scowling at him.

“You would think so, but no. I can’t speak for my past lives, but I assume they all shared the same thought process that I did. When they died and saw that massive number, they realized how meaningless the other prizes were. Why settle for the obvious prizes, when you can become a god? What’s another hundred lives in the grand scheme of things? So, ready to make me a god?” Alex rocked back on his chair, only growing in confidence as the God looked more bewildered.

“It’s not an actual prize that people are meant to take. It’s a novelty, something that’s so outlandish that people think it’s unachievable. No one else has ever done this. No mortal can consistently resist the temptations. One of your past lives was meant to give in and waste the points.”

“Guess I’m built different. Which is why I’ll make an excellent god.” The man stood up, walking beside God, leaning over the back of his chair. “We both know you can’t go back on your word, especially since these rewards were written in stone,” the man said, emphasizing the advantage he had in this situation.

“I hope you understand how hard it is to be a god. Directing mortal lives isn’t for the feint of heart. You will see horrors that you can’t imagine. You will have knowledge that will make you wish you couldn’t think. That is the curse of the divine.” God stated, tilting his head up to look at Alex, giving him a look of pity.

Alex pretended to mull over the words before rubbing the bald spot on God’s head. “Can’t be any worse than the curse of mortality. Before you make me a god, there is one last thing I want to cash in.”

“And what’s that?”

“One million points, cut god’s beard.” Alex slid a pair of scissors from his pocket, pulling God’s face forward with a harsh tug. “I’ll be quick.” Dragging the scissors through the beard, he left droplets of white hair all over the table, coating it in the fluff. “You’ve been beaten. I’ll make a world better than you ever could. You’ll become nothing.” After cutting the last hair, he sat himself on the edge of the table. “Now, my ten million points to become a god.”

God stared at the loose hairs, collecting a few of them in his palm. “You wish to become a god? Than a god you shall become.” He said, clenching his fist.

Alex felt a scorching pain through his body. His skin melting down, leaving only muscle. Even with the pain, he couldn’t scream, only falling forward onto his face. The skin quickly repairing itself, getting a red tint to its color. Finally, he could scream, holding his head as horns pushed through his skull.

“A god of the underworld suits you nicely. You can rule those who think they are above my rules and order. No god will ever be above me, for that is a sin.”

Alex pushed through the pain, staring up at the elderly man with a defiant grin. “I’ll be back for you. One day, you’ll regret not granting me my wish. I hope on that day you remember that things could have gone differently if you let me rule my own world.”

“I’m giving you a world to rule. Enjoy godhood.” With that, God cast Alex down into the underworld, giving him authority and power over the lost souls who weren’t worthy of being reborn. These people left to wander the darkness endlessly, with Alex now stumbling with them, still trying to figure out how to control his new powers.

#short stories #writing #writing prompt #story #writer

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distopea · 2 months

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Ugh.

"Kaizen, be a dear and pass me the hammer."

Nezumi extends a hand, waiting to feel the combination of rubber and plastic on his palm. His focus is entirely on the man in the chair, hands and legs tied. He's sweating, terrified, shivering. Delicious. That's how Nezumi likes them. He leans in and inhales the scent of fear just as his fingers wrap around the hammer's handle. He combs his other hand through the man's hair and forces his head back.

"P-please," the man sobs.

Nezumi shushes him, gently—affectionately—and slides the hammer over his wet cheek. "—you know a good dentist?" he whispers in the tone of a lover, as if he's asking a secret.

Confused, the man glances at Kaizen, then back at Nezumi. Hesitantly, he nods.

Nezumi snorts. He aims the hammer. The man struggles. He seals his lips as if that would protect his teeth from getting smashed in. It doesn't help. Blood splutters from between his lips. He coughs and chokes.

Nezumi forces his mouth shut by pushing underneath his chin.

"Swallow," Nezumi commands and holds. His irises are blown wide with arousal as he seizes the man in a determined vice grip.

They struggle some more; the man whimpers, cries, sobs and slobbers blood through sealed lips. But, after a while, a few gulps suggest he does as he's told.

Nezumi quickly pecks his forehead. "Good boy." He stands up and playfully swirls the hammer around; he licks the blood from its edge and bats his lashes at Kaizen. "He's all yours, baby. Ask your questions before he starts puking."

@nezumivc103221

Kaizen knew it for a long time; there were two types of killers. Those who were like him; efficient, straight to the point, and not really much into unnecessary torture, and there were people like Nezumi. He really had to put up a show with whatever he was doing, and that little one fucking loved torture for sure. Kaizen didn’t say much - per usual - and observed the bloody show. Nezumi was a pretty man; he was definitely even more attractive while he was swinging a hammer so gracefully. A true fucking maniac, Kaizen thought, while he clipped his cigarette at the corner of his lips and lightened it up, leaned against the wall and patiently waited for his time.

Why did that bitch have to scream so fucking loud?

He blew a gray cloud in front of him, unbothered by the man’s pain, but quite concerned if Nezumi would stop himself from bashing his face too hard either. They still had to interrogate the fellow, and without a proper jaw to formulate his words, he would fucking die before spilling his dirty secrets. Kaizen sighed, taking his phone out. They were running out of time. They couldn’t use this room for too long, and even if Nezumi seemed to have the best fun in the world, he had to do something about it.

“Maybe not… Fuck.” But it was too late. Kaizen rolled his eyes while Nezumi slammed the hammer hard enough for any remaining teeth to become nothing but flying dice inside the dude’s mouth. He received another text from Gambit, a quick check in regarding the mission, and eventually, he stepped forward. That was right after his young lover had decided to finally stop playing with their victim. God, he could be such a fucking cat in disguise.

“Can talk?” He asked the man, gripping his hair with his gloved fingers to force his eyes to look up. With the pain and the adrenaline, he was still coherent, but it was a matter of seconds before he would actually drift away, unable to answer their questions. A normal reaction to torture. “Fuck, look like shit.” Kaizen admired Nezumi’s work, watching the man’s head lolling over his shoulder. Another buzz inside his jeans, another text from Gambit.

Wrong target. Cops were on their way.

“Pick the hammer.” Kaizen said before he slid both of one of his hands under the man’s chin and the other one onto his nape. With a very quick twist, he heard the snap of his bones, their victim turning into a puppet while his neck was broken. “We gotta go.” Kaizen’s voice was quite bossy, but Gambit’s text was urgent. He watched Nezumi’s pouting face, quite aware that he had ruined his fun too quickly.

“Sorry, babe. Cops are coming.” He said while he made sure to pick back everything he needed, shoving his gun inside his pants. He gripped Nezumi’s wrist, pulling him away from the corpse they were leaving behind us.

With that pretty doll, it was hard to tell what could be his next moves. Before he could think about playing again, Kaizen was dragging him out of the room.

#; nezumivc103221 #⌇dialing the void ( 𝘼𝙨𝙠 )#⌇the guns whisperer ( 𝙍𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙞𝙚𝙢 | IC )#⌇a ballet of bullets ( 𝙍𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙞𝙚𝙢 | main verse )#⌇folie à deux ( 𝙍𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙞𝙚𝙢 / 𝙉𝙚𝙯𝙪𝙢𝙞 )#tw: torture #tw: blood #tw: murder #; let's get back on track with something soft and cute right?#; Kaizen is like: okay kitten we can't stay #; he really pictures Nezumi like a cat playing with a bird lmao

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raaorqtpbpdy · 2 years

Text

Alright new ask game. (I was tagged by @astravis so…… thanks for that). I’ll be real I was lowkey hoping I wouldn’t get tagged in this one. I have so many WIPs but I’ve got time today, so why not.

Rules here

This is NOT a complete list of WIPs, just a list of the fanfics I haven’t completely abandoned (I haven’t included any of my original works on this list). Also, all my drafts have descriptive names b/c I don’t title anything until it’s complete, so sorry if you were hoping to have to guess at what my fics are about.

I am absolutely not tagging as many people as I have WIPs we’d be here all week. @wsoupofpain @radiance1 @higgidigs sorry if you’ve been tagged before and you don’t have to if you don’t want to

Without further ado, in no particular order:

Haikyuu!!/Tokyo Ghoul (rewrite)

Boy Livetweets his Adoption by Bruce Wayne

Soulmate AU JonDami

Bartuardo Week 2019 - retro-fic’d

Batman/Bruce Wayne AU

Young Justice/Animaniacs crossover

Batman vs. The Labeler

Batfam/DP AU

DP/Batman disabled!Danny AU

Another DP/Batman fic -Arkham guard AU (Danny/Jason)

DP/Batman: That 1 trope where Danny is a Bat twin but it’s all of them

DP/DC crossover

DP prompts + YJ xover

DP/DC Assassin!Danny AU continuation

DP/YJ crossover

D9 Time/Dimension travel with de-aged Dark Danny + YJ-S2 xover

DP/DC (yes… again…) Phantom Zone

DP - Danny gets isekai’d into the MHA Universe

DP/MHA Provisional License Exam

DP - Astroboy (2009) AU

DP - Sam becomes a werewolf

Danny Phantom - Halfa!Dash AU

Ectoham x-over

Ectoham Soulmate AU

Merlin - Merthur Soulmate AU

JATP Reggie Banjo

Dino Squad (but better)

Tiger&Bunny Tokyo ghoul AU

Saiki K. (Makoto Teruhashi/Kusuke Saiki)

Saiki K. - Hairo’s Pyrokinesis

Saiki K. - The Jet Black Wings is real AU

MSM - Ben didn’t die AU

Spider-Man: sugardaddy!Harry Osborn

Teen Wolf - Stiles becomes an Alpha

Teen Wolf - Scooby-Doo Fusion feat. Sterek

100 y/o Avatar Zuko AU - Backstory/fic

Avatar AU - Zuko is sent to war

Avatar Sokka AU

A:TLA Firebender Sokka AU

Milo Murphy’s Law - Lost Dakota/Sea Captain

Detentionaire - Vampire AU

Detentionaire - Military School AU

Ben 10/Danny Phantom Crossover

Ben 10 - New Dimensions

Ben 10 - Young Ben AU

Ben 10 soulmate AU (Rook/Ben)

Ben 10 - gender lock disabled

Ben 10 - Ben goes EVO

Ben 10 - RookBen AU

ROTTMNT - Donnie goes to school

TMNT (Rise/2012 X-over)

TMNT (2012) - Capritello

Stretch Armstrong goes to the dentist

Stranger Things but Steve’s a werewolf and literally nothing else changes

DP x DC core power fic

#ask game #somebody better ask me about some of these I spent like half an hour writing this crap out #feel free to ask about more than one #fanfic #drafts #I’m not tagging fandoms

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me-when-i-draft · 3 months

Text

Aventurine leans back against the couch and recounts his experience, putting images into words. His consciousness seeps into a memory of his dream and gazes upwards as if there were stars.

There wasn’t, and he swears he was becoming a fool having dreamed it for a hundredth time. When his thin-boned fingers reaches for the faux stars, he wonders why it’s cold. Why now, when it’s all in his head? Perhaps, the cold was permanently tainted on his body, lying in wait for something to unearth it—to remember it. Like having evoked the phantom pain of getting your tooth out as a child whenever someone mentions a dentist. That’s all this is.

He’d describe the star to be a door to one of his memories; it vanishes into thin air and transports him to a younger body. He becomes sick for a moment, and realizes how efficient the Dreamscape was. Paralyzation was as much of a big deal as being forced to a memory. He couldn’t do anything but be forced into the sight of the familiar corners of the room as he feels the floor hard under his knees.

The cold was from the metal around his neck and wrists, forever tying half of his life down. It’s electrifying, as if to say he was as real as anyone could get, and this is the life he gets to live—with the gashes on his tiny physique and the blood that comes out of it. The blood, he remembers, was the cruelest shade of red he ever laid his eyes upon. He wonders if he was cruel too and never looked at red the same way.

On the first night, the ground distorted. Everything underneath his feet falls into an unknowing void, yet he remained hanging on the metal while the chain fades onto nothing. His body weight pulls him down causing the metal to press deeper into his flesh, creating a crease. He suffocates like a hanged man as everything around him runs free—the tiles, the time, even his own breath. This is unfair, he thinks.

In that deep sense of panic, he wailed and pulled out tantrums, yelling why couldn't he be as free as the floor that shattered. He couldn’t move and the world dies before him.

He didn’t even want to die.

But why wasn't he dead yet?

Aventurine would gasp and reach for his throat in search of an actual crease. There isn't, and he wakes up alone in the world’s rebirth as his mind shifts from the unreal to the real. On some nights, he can’t even do so, and that was colder than the metal.

So maybe the tears trickling down his cheek and dared his tongue were enough to tell him sleeping was a bad idea. That itself was a bad idea, but would you blame a man who was afraid he can’t wake himself up in time?

Ratio doesn’t, that much is true. Aventurine realizes his eyes were colored the nicest shade of red. At the very least, he wasn’t scared of it. If only it was the color he ever knew, then his own blood would be less terrifying.

He tells all he’d experienced in the most careless manner, saving his lament for another time or never.

But Ratio could tell he was sad.

No, he could tell Aventurine was crying.

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teacherintransition · 1 year

Text

Father’s Day

A man’s early journey begins hoping to please his father …

… it ends up watching his sons becoming fathers, and the saga plays on

Father’s Day is coming up this weekend as another of my sons will celebrate his first Father’s Day. It’s been eleven years since I was last able to wish my dad a happy day to celebrate fatherhood. In the ensuing years, the balance has been reestablished with my son Joshua becoming a father three times over and my middle son, Brendan, becoming a dad for the first time this year. What a wild trip experiencing the varied emotions involved with this day. The focus constantly changes and responsibilities are exchanged with hopes that proper preparation was achieved when each occur. It’s a private experience that many dads quietly observe to see if sons, wives, daughters feel appreciation of the father in question. A lonely, sometimes disappointing vigil.

I’m not for a moment trying to lessen the importance of Mother’s Day…au contraire! It’s just a bit of insecurity comes with El dia de Los Padres. The two most celebrated holidays of the year are Christmas and Mother’s Day …Father’s Day comes in at twenty. That’s hits you a little, along with the number of men who have partial or no custody of their children and the men who failed to navigate the razors edge that is the Father/Son relationship. Making peace in that context ain’t often easy.

I’ve written at length about the nature of fathers and sons and how volatile it can sometimes be over the years. My pops and I were at odds almost right up to my dad’s end in 2012. Those last six months, we found peace as we talked often for hours at a time …like REAL men. Which means we talked about everything except our feelings, but we knew that a closure of sorts had been reached. Slowly the focus moved from that to my being concerned if I did the father thing right; and if my sons will learn from my mistakes and become good fathers to their kids. It’s never really about reveling in the laurels of fatherhood, but mostly anxieties dealing with the insecurities of feeling appreciated and fear of having dropped the ball. Truth be told, for myself, I’m good just lowering my head and getting through it without feeling like an afterthought, but making sure that my sons never feel that way as fathers. A tie, some bbq, an emotional crisis and thou. Yee haw!

My thoughts don’t center on my dad much on Father’s Day anymore. We made our peace, which at some points didn’t seem possible…let it be. The focus has moved to the waning years my sons and I have left. I want to feel essential to them and for them to seek out my advice. Now, that is the perfect Father’s Day gift! Bottles of scotch, a steak dinner, etc are all awesome; but the real dream is for me to be able to sit with my boys alone, accompanied by said bottle of scotch and just talk. I need nothing else except the hope that when I’m gone, my sons might look at some old photos or read a poem about dads and their eyes will water a bit thinking about how much I helped them and that they miss me.

Dads are often the last to go to the doctor or dentist, they are often wearing shoes that are old and scuffed, all this and more …because the family comes first. It is all worthwhile if quiet time with the boys can be had from time to time. What follows is my favorite poem about the father son bond by Irish poet F.R. Higgins. It has changed meaning for me over the years from the last verse dealing with an experience with my dad to wondering if the last verse will be a state of mind for my three sons as they look back and remember. Please remember me …

Father and Son

by F.R. Higgins

Ireland Calling

Father and Son

Only last week, walking the hushed fields

Of our most lovely Meath, now thinned by November,

I came to where the road from Laracor leads

To the Boyne river–that seems more lake than river,

Stretched in uneasy light and stript of reeds.

And walking longside an old weir

Of my people’s, where nothing stirs–only the shadowed

Leaden flight of a heron up the lean air–

I went unmanly with grief, knowing how my father,

Happy though captive in years, walked last with me there.

Higgins, F.R.; “Fathers and Sons;” Fathers and Sons: Selected Poems; Arlen House Publishing; 2014

#open mind #retirement #coffetime #stress #change #teacher #i need friends #health #writing #education #father #father son

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transformation4life · 2 years

Text

Getting Beardy

I awoke in an office backroom with no recollection of how i got here. Something felt off as I realized I was on the ground and got up to get a footing of my surroundings. I noticed a nearby blue towel on a hanger and decided to grab it. While I went to grab it, I realized my entire arm was a lot darker than I remember causing me to look down at my entire body and come to realize I look to be in the body of someone completely different!

“What the-” I shout dropping the towel as my new deep voice became known to me. I think to myself that this must be a dream. There was no way I became this hulk of a Lebanese man overnight, but as I started touching and feeling every inch of my hairy body, as I gave my new juicy pecs a good rub, as I gave my large biceps a quick flex; I decided to ignore the supernatural origin of my stay and tried to find the nearest mirror to get a real good look at myself. I picked up my recently obtained towel and went on to look for a mirror.

I found a door and walked in hoping no was in this mysterious office building. I was buck naked in here and I didn’t want to alarm anyone even if I had a smoking hot bod. To my surprise though I found what was beyond the office backroom was a very basic one color room. I looked around the whole room only to find absolutely nothing besides the door i entered through.

“Doumit are you ready for the photoshoot?” a voice suddenly rang out, shocking me. I find the source of a voice and it’s very obviously a cameraman ready to shoot some photos. Equipment needed for a photoshoot made itself known to me as I looked to the equipment and then back to the cameraman.

“Oh and I know you’re excited, but this isn’t one of those photoshoots...” obviously making a comment at my noticeable lack of clothing. I embarrassingly apologize quickly making sure to hold the towel covering my privates more tightly with my strong hand.

“Do you know where I can find the nearest bathroom?” I ask with my new unbelievably sexy voice. The Cameraman pointing to a door that clearly wasn’t there just a couple minutes ago, but I thank him and walk over to the bathroom.

I walk into the bathroom and immediately look into my mirror. I finally got a good look at the new me. A massive bulging Lebanese hulk I was now inhabiting with the sexiest beard known to man.

“Damn I am looking good!”

After admiring myself in the mirror doing all sort of bodybuilder poses for what felt like hours, I find a pair of underwear and jeans. “This must be for the photoshoot,” I say aloud. I put the clothes on and I look just as good even in jeans. I walk out of the bathroom and the cameraman notions me over to a nearby stool and instructs me into a pose. I happily oblige and let the cameras do the rest. With each camera flash I could feel my memory jumbling and changing.

My real name is actually Doumit Ghanem.

I was always Lebanese.

I’m a hard-working Dentist.

My beard must be taken care of at all times.

Before my old self completely disappeared I remember what I did last night. I saw a shooting star and wished to become the amazing Doumit Ghanem. But that’s not important anymore I have an important job to do and it’s to finish this photoshoot as the one and only Doumit Ghanem.

After the photoshoot, the cameraman thanked me for giving him time for his magazine I was set to appear in. I always wanted to please my fans, so this was barely a problem for me. I left the building the photoshoot was in and went to my car so i drove to the nearest gym as I always have done. A quick pic to post on my social medias wouldn’t hurt right?

#muscle tf #doumit ghanem tf #reality change

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divinefireangel · 3 years

Text

They Just Don't Know You

Soft Yandere! Seo Moon-Jo x F! Reader

Disclaimer: This is just a work of fiction. If this piece of fan fiction is offensive to any celebrity, fandom or culture please let me know so I can take it down. Also note that this is my version of a character or celeb, which will vary from person to person.

Author's Note: A 2nd longer fic for our lovely cannibalistic psychopath. I hate that I'm attracted to him. Someone please be my therapist. Or psychiatrist. Honestly doesn't matter. My brain is fucked anyway.

Copyright: Please note that this is my work and if you want to publish this on any other platform, take my permission before doing so. Taking an author's work and posting it somewhere else without any intimation is just disrespectful. I readily welcome suggestions and criticisms. That being said, Happy reading! 🤍

Warnings: 16+ and written for female reader, but all can read. (nothing specified with respect to appearance, etc of reader). Except that I've mentioned reader is short, cuz LDW is tall 🥰. There is a brief mention of sex, but no actual smut. Reader kinda highkey hates on her parents and younger sister. Read it to know. Age gap between reader and Moon-Jo. Slight obsessive thoughts. Manipulative words. I tried to put plot twist in the end, probably you won't notice it 💀. Please please tell me if I need to add more warnings. Do not read if you start to feel uncomfortable. I apologize in advance 🥺

❗❗PLEASE READ WARNINGS ❗❗

Pre-Requisite / Summary: Just a fic based on the song They Just Don't Know You by Little Mix. After watching Strangers from hell I related this song to him for some reason. Reader and Moon-Jo are in an established relationship. And reader's loved ones don't approve.

2.3k ish words My longest fic till date 🥳

" You know that he's too old for you. You can settle for younger, much younger guys for your age sweetheart. If you can't find anyone eligible enough, we will find one for you. And you don't even know if he has intentions of marrying you. What if all he wants is just a fling or some time pass relationship. Hmm? What are you going to do then? "

Sipping her tea silently, Y/N sat next to her dad on the porch swing, listening to all the criticisms he had about Moon-Jo. All his words did was boil her blood. But what could she do when they don't walk in her shoes? They don't know how safe and content she feels when he kisses her like she's the only girl for him in the entire universe. And no point in explaining that to her father anyway. She's tried. And failed. Multiple times.

"Are you done with your tea?" She asks her dad, in desperate attempt to try and get away from him and his words because she knows, and even he knows that it's going to end up in a fight if they continue to speak on the same topic.

Humming yes, he hands her his tea cup which she takes to the kitchen so she can help her mom with dinner. Placing them in the sink upon entering the kitchen, Y/N drags her palms down her face in frustration.

" I could hear what he said you know. Your dad. He's not wrong. Seo Moon-Jo seems like he'll break your heart in three. And we're only looking out for you Y/N. You don't have to go through heartbreak when you can very well avoid it." Her mom finished slowly.

" Why. Why is it so difficult for you to accept the fact that I'm actually in a happy relationship for once in my life. So what if he's much older than I am? He's a dentist. A doctor. A very good profession and he's known and well respected in his neighbourhood too. " Y/N said loud enough for her dad also to hear.

Huffing in annoyance she left the kitchen to go upstairs to her room. Or rather the room she shares with her sister. Of course the door is wide open. The younger rascal is always here for the drama.

Ever since Y/N came out to her family about her relationship with Moon-Jo, her sister has become the favourite child, for obvious reasons. And now eavesdropping with the door wide open? That's a new low. But what else can Y/N expect from such a low life who is literally thriving off her own sister's pain and suffering.

When entering the room, Y/N realizes how big a mistake it was to visit her family. And she did not need such snark from a younger, less experienced child.

"Are you that blinded by " Love " that you don't even see how weird his hair is? A man who isn't an idol or actor doesn't need such long hair. He's clearly a fuckboy. Or man whore. Whichever is right. " She said with disgust.

'She's just jealous. She's just a jealous bitch. They all are.' Y/N thinks to herself.

" At least one of us gets laid regularly. And just so you know, it's absolutely heavenly when he makes me cum over and over on his fingers and his dick-" Y/N said as her tone slowly got lower and darker and her emotion angrier.

Screaming and covering her ears, the younger girl ran downstairs to her mother, no doubt to tattle on her older sister. Rolling her eyes, Y/N started packing her things, all of them, in a bag she took down from the top shelf of the wardrobe.

It's really difficult to leave one's family, but it is clearly getting more and more tiresome to love them nowadays. If it's so wrong to date him, why does Y/N herself not see it? She's a logical and smart young lady. Does her family hate that man so much that they don't even want her to be happy? No matter who she's with. And is it so bad to date a man who's older? Richer? And cares more about her than all of her family members combined?

Wiping the fallen tear stains from her cheek, she just thinks to herself ' They just don't know him. They just don't know him like I do. '

Sending a text to her lover, saying that she misses him and that she's coming back home sooner than planned, Y/N carries her bag through the front door, her parents and sister ignoring her as she leaves and walks out that door one final time.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Once reaching their shared apartment, Y/N collapsed into her lover's arms the moment he opens the door, crying her eyes out. Seeing his lover in turmoil, shedding a tear or two of his own, Moon-Jo carries her to the living room couch to cradle her like a child who needs attention.

" They- They said -"

" Shh my darling. I know. " Moon-Jo said, shushing his girlfriend and giving her a shoulder to cry on. Once she's calmed a little, her sobs turning to sniffs, she lifts her head to meet his gaze.

Seeing her sad, tear stained eyes always upset him. More than anything in the world. Running his long slender fingers across her cheeks and jaw, he removes her hair from her ponytail with his free hand and rests it on her thigh.

" Tell me. Please tell me that you won't break my heart like them. That you won't try to tear my world apart like them. " Y/N looked desperately at him, wanting so badly to know that he's not just using her.

Those words, that slipped out her mouth, shocked Moon-Jo, to say the least. What did he do wrong? What did her family fill her head with?

Tilting his head to a little, he looks into her red eyes, trying to read her mind for a moment, all the while she just looked at him with the same desperate expression.

"Please tell me that you will be there when I need you the most. " Y/N whispered so softly, she herself barely heard it. But the end of the sentence, she started crying all over again.

Taking her head to his neck, he stroked her hair and her sides, trying to calm her down.

" Darling. I promise with my everything, that I will never leave you, I will never ever let you go. That I will do anything, anything necessary to prove my love to you. "

"No, oh dear no. That's not, you don't have- have to do anything at all to make me believe you love me. I'm sorry I asked such a stupid question. " She sobbed out.

Shushing her softly again, he rocks their bodies back and forth, till she's calmed and fallen asleep there, in his arms. Knowing that his arms are her only safe place for her from now on, he takes her delicate figure to the bedroom.

Placing her on her side of the bed, he lays down on his. Staring at her stunning face, he feather touches her face with his fingertips, memorizing every curve, every little detail on her, like a sculptor admiring his work and giving it the finishing touches.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

" So, I did a little digging on your sugar daddy. "

" Why?! And he's not my sugar daddy. " Y/N said in disbelief. No. Not her dear best friend too.

" I know you said not to and I'm sorry. But I am worried about you. He made you leave your family Y/N. " They stated with worry and sympathy.

" No. He didn't make me leave them. I left them by choice. They don't see him like I do. And clearly, they hate that I'm happy with him. " Y/N finished as they sat down at the lunch table.

" Y/N..... "

" What? Even you don't want me to be happy? " She questioned her friend in disbelief. Laughing sarcastically Y/N shook her head.

" I've heard rumours! Okay? He was in the orphanage that had that severe fire explosion. And most of the culprits from that incident are MIA. What if he's one of the people who caused it?! " They said in a whisper, worried that the neighbouring people can hear their conversation.

" Do you really think that? All of that is just a rumour. And he's told me about it. He's told me everything. Unlike my parents who so desperately tried to tie me down to an arranged marriage. "

" He's not good for you. I know you deserve better. Okay he may make happy and all but what if he leaves? What if he just uses you and drops you like you were nothing? We're just trying to make sure you don't get hurt Y/N. Physically and emotionally. " They finished.

" This, all what you said, is cheap talk. But it'll eventually wear down because when we get married and have kids and all that in the future, you're all going to look like fools. And I will proudly say ' I told you so '. "

" If that's the case then I am the happiest person for you. Hopefully I won't have to be the one to say ' I told you so'. "

" Wow. I, just- hah. Wow. Just wow. " She paused.

" You know, I really hoped you would be more supportive or at least tolerant enough to have patience and support me with my decision for my love. " Y/N said loud enough for eavesdroppers to hear audibly.

Of all the people she would have to drop, never even in her nightmares had she fathomed that her best friend would be one.

Getting up from the table, she picks up her bag and leaves without another word, and goes to the only place that has love for her and that accepts her.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Reaching home, Y/N notices the place empty. Maybe he's at the clinic?

Shrugging off her bag and jacket she sits on the couch for a moment, before her restlessness takes over and she begins pacing in the living room.

Why are people being like this? Do they hate her so much? They barely know him. Why are they treating and accusing him to be such a criminal! He's not. He takes care of Y/N so much. He loves her so much. He provides for her. He's affectionate with her, more than he's told he thought capable. He's become her ride or die. And she, his.

They don't know him like I do. They will never love me like he does.

They don't know about the love they have. The just see what they want to see. Bloody society dictating whom to love and whom to not. Is it so hard to see the love they have for each other? Can't they just let it be. They don't know the turmoil she's gone through recently; they don't know how well he's taken care of her, kept her happy and same enough to not let her intrusive thoughts get the best of her.

Her thoughts interrupted by the door clicking open. Smiling, Moon-Jo enters with a box, surely containing sweets from her favourite bakery. How can you not love someone so considerate, who does things for you without even having to ask.

Seeing the sad look upon his lover's face, Moon-Jo's smile fades into a frown.

" What's wrong my dear? "

Smiling sadly Y/N just shakes her head, conveying that she doesn't want to talk about it.

Placing the box of sweets on the coffee table, the two hug each other, feeling of comfort taking over them both. She can just stay here, forever, in his arms till the world ends.

" Babe. What's wrong? You can tell me anything. Anything at all. I'll take care of the problem. " Delicately Moon-Jo cradles Y/N's head in his palms, making her face up to him, their height difference evident.

Sighing, she moves to sit on the couch, motioning him to do the same. " It's just people. And what they say. My family was one thing, but my best friend, the person I chose as my family " Pausing Y/N breathers the tears back in, " They were doubtful of you today. How can I live knowing that no one will approve of us? " Y/N questioned looking at him.

" Does their opinion really matter that much? So much so that you are skeptical of my affection to you? " Coldly, he moved back from his seat on the couch.

" No! No. Gosh that is not what I mean. Not at all. I love you and I know that you love me. So much. So much so I would die for you. But there are other people whom I care about. Who's opinions matter to me. And I don't want to let them go. As happy as I am with you, I need them too. They give me joy in a different way, that is important. "

" Do I not make you happy? Are you not content with the love I give you? Is it not enough? " He asks carefully.

" That's not what I meant! You love me more than anyone I've known. "

"Then what's the problem? You don't need those people who don't love you. You have me. You will have me forever and ever. I will never leave you. And you will never leave me either. We'll be with each other till the end of the world darling. "

Nodding with a small smile you looked down at your feet.

Unhappy with your action, Moon-Jo pulls your face up by your chin to look at him with such force, it scared you a little, making your heart skip a beat in fear.

" Do you not love me, babe? " He asked tilting his head to a side, his expression mildly offended.

" I do! I love you. So much. " You finished with a soft tone, cupping his face with your hands.

Grinning like a Cheshire Cat, Moon-Jo leaned down to capture your lips with his. Reacting immediately, you kissed him with as much energy and sincerity you could muster, as you head filled with thoughts of doubt.

Had your parents been right? Had for friend been right? Had they all been right all along and you too blind to see?

No. It can't be. He loves you. He's said that so many times. And you love him.

You love him.

You.

Love.

Him.

...

Do you love him, or have you been illusioned into loving him?

#lee dong wook #lee dong wook imagine #lee dong wook x reader #ldw #strangers from hell #strangers from hell x reader #hell is other people #seo moon jo #seo moon jo x reader #seo moon jo imagine #seo moon jo x f!reader #yandere seo moon jo

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sleeping-on-cracking-ice · 3 years

Note

Hi!! Can I request a suggestive Seo Moon Jo imagine? In which his girlfriend demands a massage from him(after a hectic day) and it leads to something else. Thanks!

Sure! This is my first request for SFH so I’ll see how I’ll do ❤

De-Stress | Seo Moonjo

{Strangers From Hell Masterlist}

Summary: You’ve had a bad day at work and wish for nothing more than a comforting night with your boyfriend Moonjo, but things take a turn

Warnings: fluff, fluff, fluff and suggestive themes

Word Count: 3.3k

*reader is female

The scowl painted on your face hadn’t left your features since you had left work at 9:00 pm. It felt like the cold night air was basically freezing it into your expression, as well as bringing the hairs on your arms to stand. The broken zipper on the back of your shirt also didn’t do much to help your already sour mood. You had managed to get it caught on the edge of a curtain and needed to rip it off before your manager noticed, breaking it in the process. Luckily though, your coworker found a spare pin in their desk draw for you to pin your shirt back with. It really wasn’t your best day.

You opened your eyes and saw the bland old ceiling of the train, chipping paint and rusting metal with the echoing voice of the intercom announcing the next stop practically deafening your half-asleep form. With the shake of your head, you decided perhaps napping on the train wasn’t the best idea, especially since it was very quiet and you were a woman travelling home by herself. No one else was around you, besides an elderly man who had rested himself further up the carriage.

A heavy sigh left your lungs and you ran a stressed hand through your hair, scratching your scalp and attempting to rid of the headache developing in your brain. The regret of telling your manager that you had not finished the work that was due today was setting in, as he decided to give you a good grilling about the importance of efficiency in the workplace and all that bullshit. Everything that man said went in one ear and out the other.

The vibration of your phone brought your attention from the train tunnel walls to your bag, causing you to dig around your belongings to find it. The screen lit up with your boyfriend’s name and a text underneath.

“Are you almost home? I bought ice cream for you.”

You smiled at his generosity. He seemed to always think of you where ever he went, never failing to bring something back home for you whenever he went out.

“Yeah. Had to sort something out and catch a later train but I’ll be home around 9:45.”

You pressed send and watched the typing bubbles pop up, becoming a simple “Ok. Don’t talk to anyone.”

Typing back a simple “Ok xxx”, you locked your phone screen and place it in your back pocket. The tiredness in your eyes stung as you rubbed at them, as well as the sharp pain in the top of your shoulders. Maybe lifting so much heavy stuff at work wasn’t the best idea. A few of your coworkers were away for the day, so you had to volunteer to carry the huge boxes of supplies all the way to the office from the delivery lot.

You weren’t too bothered though. Knowing you could go home to a boyfriend like Moonjo who’s willing to take care of you was always reassuring when you hadn’t had the best day.

Your eyes brightened when the name of your station displayed on the small screen near the sliding doors. You stood up from your seat and slung your bag over your shoulders before standing in front of the door, waiting for it to be opened.

When they finally did, you stepped over the small gap between the train and the station before immediately heading up the old stairs towards the ground level. You were eager to get home to Moonjo and just relax with him on the comfy couch and ask him how his day was at the dentist.

**********************

The streets seemed quieter than usual, with only the beep of a car horn and the meow of a stray cat every once in a while. It kept you on edge, holding your phone in your hand tightly and watching wear you stepped. You were almost at your and Moonjo’s apartment block anyway, so you weren’t too worried.

When you finally approached the large brick building, you quickly pushed yourself through the entrance and climbed the stairs to your floor, desperate to finally get some rest and quiet after your shitty day at work.

You unlocked the door to your apartment and clambered inside. Closing the door behind you, you removed the black boots from your feet, being happy to finally walk without pain in your heel. You added them to the growing pile of you and Moonjo’s shoes near the front door and continued walking inside.

“Moonjo!” you called out while placing your work bag on the small dining table. You waited a moment before the pair of footsteps neared the lounge area, making you chuckle slightly at his excitement at your return.

When you saw him round the corner from your shared room, his face expressed his usual sly smirk. He wore his black slacks and a long sleeve black shirt, midnight hair dishevelled. He sauntered towards you and held his long arms out, inviting you in for a loving hug.

“Hi honey,” he said in a sickly sweet tone as you launched yourself towards the tall man’s chest. He held you in a tight embrace, face tucked into the top of your head and pressing you into his torso further, trying to feel your warmth after being separated from you all day.

He pressed his lips against your hair in a small kiss while stroking his hands along your back slowly, earning a calming hum from your exhausted body.

“How was your day sweetheart?” he questioned, pulling away and cupping your face in his warm hands to make you look at him. Your tired eyes and flushed cheeks made his heart ache, giving him the urge to squish them.

You let out a rough sigh, pulling from his hands on your face and rubbing your own along your eyes in annoyance at the mention of the kind of day you had.

Moonjo ran a soft hand through the top of your hair and cupped your cheek once again, bringing his face that held a concerned expression closer to yours. “What’s wrong? Did something happen today?”

You shook your head in annoyance and dropped your head forward so your face was rested against his chest, making him chuckle at your childish behaviour. He weaved his slender fingers through your hair and scratched at your scalp to calm you.

“I had such a shitty day,” you mumbled out against the fabric of his shirt. “I don’t even really want to talk about it. It was just that awful.”

Moonjo sighed heavily and brought you back to face him by pushing on your shoulders. You glanced up at the restful man while pouting your lips in annoyance. He let out a slight giggle at your cute face, leaning down and placing his lips against your pouted ones in a long-awaited kiss. Your hands moved from your side to the back of his neck, linking them around and turning your head to deepen the kiss. But before you could go any further, Moonjo pulled away, causing you to complain.

He smiled at your whining and gave you a loving smooch on your forehead to make up for it. “Do you want me to make you a cup of tea?” he asked.

Your eyes lit up at his suggestion. “Yes please,” you smiled and leant forward to place a gentle kiss against the fabric of his shirt as a thank you. His heart swelled at the small action.

“But before you do,” you stopped him before he pulled away. “Tell me how your day was.”

Moonjo shook his head, causing his black locks to bounce. “Don’t worry about it. I’m going to focus on you since you obviously had a bad day. I want to make it good again by taking care of you.”

With a quick peck to your nose, he slipped from your arms around his neck and removed himself from your shared embrace, moving towards the kitchen to start the kettle.

You followed him into the kitchen and watched him as he strolled about, being entertained just by watching him go about his usual habits. You admired his evening appearance. Hair ungroomed after a day of working in the dentist, his usual doe eyes darkened from tiredness and the comfy clothing hanging off his figure. The mere domestic sight of him brought butterflies to your stomach, and his veiny slim hands wiping the cloth over the bench in front of you to clean it didn’t help your growing neediness for them to be on you.

His face in front of yours caught your attention and he smirked at you being caught staring. “Like what you see?” he asked with a mischievous tone to his voice. You felt yourself become flushed as you nodded. “Maybe I do,” you smirked, looking away and trying to act like his closeness doesn’t affect you.

Even after years of dating, you and Moonjo seemed to always know how to make each other flustered over the smallest things.

“Oh wait!” he suddenly exclaimed while moving to the fridge. “I got you ice cream.”

You watched as he brought out a tub of your favourite flavour of ice cream that he seemed to get a bit too often for it to be healthy for the both of you.

“I’ll grab some for us to share after I make your tea.” Just as he said that the kettle dinged loudly signalling it had finished boiling.

“It’s fine, I’ll do it,” you reassured and moved to grab some bowls from the cupboard. Moonjo smiled and went back to pouring the water into a mug for you.

As you were trying to scoop the ice cream from the small tub, struggling due to how hard the top layer had become, Moonjo finished making your tea and stumbled over to you, wrapping his lanky arms around your torso and enveloping back with his chest.

He let out a slight chuckle in your ear and you felt the warmth of his breath against your skin, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up at the feeling. “You need some help?” he whispered as he snuggled his face into the crook of your neck, giving the sensitive skin there a small playful nip with his teeth. You swore you almost jumped at the feeling. Why was he being so clingy tonight?

“No it’s fine,” you assured him, trying to continue your task with him basically glued to you. The small tired groans and whines he was letting out weren’t helping your situation as he continued to nuzzle his face into your skin, making your eyes widen and your heart beat faster.

“You smell nice,” he mumbled out as he breathed in your scent. “Have you been using a new body wash?”

You nodded, finally finishing scooping the dessert into the bowl. “I bought a new one the other day and I’ve been using it a lot.”

Moonjo nodded and pressed his lips against the skin just below your ear before resting his chin on the top of your head. “I’ve noticed.”

You let out a slight sigh at his affection and pushed your shoulders back against him to give him the message to move. He removed his hands from your body and gave you space as you made your way to the lounge room with your bowl of desserts in your hand.

You sat down on the couch and placed the bowls on the coffee table in front of you before grabbing a soft blanket from the pile at the end of the couch to cover yourself with.

Moonjo made his way over, face growing soft at the sight of you buried under the blankets and placed your tea in front of you. You thanked him and turned the tv on as he collapsed down next to you. He lifted your blanket to pull himself underneath too but he froze when he saw you were still wearing your work clothes.

“Baby, what are you doing? Get into some comfier clothes,” he said as he fiddled with the hem of your shirt, encouraging you to take it off. You rested your head against the back of the couch and let out a loud groan of annoyance. “I’m too tired to move again!” you whined while bringing the blanket over your face to hide.

Moonjo grinned fondly at your attitude as he shuffled closer to you under the blanket and pinched your sides, causing you to yelp in surprise and flinch away from his hands.

“You’re so cute,” he whispered, pulling the blanket off your face and squishing his nose into your cheek, making you gush as his compliment.

“Fine,” he said after a moment. You watched as he leant back from you and pulled on the back of his shirt to bring it over his head. The sight of his messy black hair and bare chest seemed so ethereal and gorgeous to you, despite the number of times you had seen it before.

You couldn’t help but stare at him, admiring his smooth skin and scars that littered his chest. Every feature on him seemed to bring nothing but more beauty in your eyes.

“Honey, you’re staring again,” he laughed as he threw his black shirt at you in embarrassment. You snapped from your daze and gave him a lazy smile. “You’re just so pretty,” you cooed, running a soft hand through his fluffy locks.

He smirked and gestured towards his shirt that he threw into your lap. “Take your work clothes off and put it on. It’ll be comfier.”

You sat up straight and removed your work shirt and pants whilst giving Moonjo the side-eye for glancing a bit too long at you.

“What?” he laughed when you called him out playfully for it. “Nothing I haven’t seen.” You smacked his shoulder at the suggestive remark, making him grin cheekily.

When you had discarded your work clothes on the carpet next to the couch and pulled Moonjo’s shirt that was way too big for you, you hoisted the blanket back over your bare legs and leant forward to grab your tea, taking a big sip.

“Good?” Moonjo questioned as he watched you drink it. You nodded and smiled at him before putting it back on the table.

Moonjo shuffled closer to you and encouraged you to lay your head against his shoulder by pulling your arm, which you accepted. He rested his head on top of yours and let out a huge yawn, turning towards the tv to watch whatever show was displaying. He kept a tight embrace on your waist and ran a soft hand up and down your arm, pinching the skin slightly.

After a few moments, the pain from earlier on the train began to work up again. Your shoulders began to ache and you groaned in pain, leaning off Moonjo and massaging the muscles of your right shoulder in your hand. Moonjo frowned at your action.

“You okay baby?” he asked in a worried tone, sitting up and placing his palm on your sore collarbones. You nodded. “It’s fine,” you reassured. “I just had to lift a lot of heavy stuff at work and I think I pulled a few muscles in my upper back.”

Moonjo continued to run his hands along the broad of your back, pressing on the skin through the fabric of his shirt. Just as he did, you thought of an idea.

“Baby,” you cooed out in a cute tone, hoping it will convince him further to do what you wanted. “Can you give me a shoulder massage?”

Moonjo’s eyes lit up at your suggestion, being happy that he’s able to take care of you. “Of course,” he said happily. “Sit in front of me so I can do it.”

You waited until he spread his legs further enough for you to fit between then made yourself comfortable, leaning forward slightly so he can easily rub his hands along your shoulder’s without difficulty.

As you watched the classic reality tv show displaying on the tv screen in front of you, Moonjo started to feel along the muscles of your shoulders before pressing his thumb into your skin roughly, causing you to let out a satisfied groan. He froze at the sound you made, but snapped out of it quickly and kept rubbing the tight muscles under your skin.

Simply just seeing how his shirt hung on your torso made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside. For most of the day, he wasn’t able to get you out of his head. At the dentist, there were times he had to snap himself out of thinking of you in a daze.

It hadn’t even been that long since you had slept together. He didn’t want to come across as annoying or needy, especially after you had had a hard day. So he kept it to himself.

But with you sitting in his lap, nothing but underwear and his shirt on, he could feel himself giving away to his desires slightly.

He brought his hand from your shoulder to the hem of his shirt that snugged your skin perfectly and peeked his fingers underneath the fabric slightly, testing the waters. When you didn’t say anything, he kept going and continued to press his warm palm against your lower back. He brought his other hand down to follow the other.

When he heard you hum in content at the feeling of his hands on your bare skin, he leant himself forward and pressed his lips against the nape of your neck, breathing heavily on your skin and wrapping his arms around your middle under his shirt.

“Babe,” you breathed out, turning your head slightly to face him. Moonjo hummed in acknowledgement, keeping his face buried against your back and taking in the smell of your body wash.

“Are you okay?” you asked, turning your torso to look at Moonjo’s face. Only when you did, he chased your lips and brought you into a passionate kiss. He brought one of his hands from your back to your face, stroking his thumb along your cheek.

When you pulled away, Moonjo followed your lips, making you laugh. When he couldn’t reach them, he moved his mouth to your neck and continued to kiss and bite softly along your skin, making you shiver slightly.

“You’ve been needy this evening.” you teased, leaning your head against his lovingly. Moonjo pulled away from your neck and leaned his forehead against yours while smirking slightly. “I’ve just missed you,” he stated, giving you a quick peck on the lips.

You chuckled at his obvious lying. “I’m sure that’s just it,” you teased further.

Moonjo giggled and rubbed his nose against yours playfully. Continuing to rub his hands across your bare back, he tucked his face into your shoulder and groaned.

“What’s wrong?” you questioned, raising your eyebrows and eyeing him. Moonjo lifted his head and gave you a deadpan face, making you laugh at his obvious irritation.

“You know what’s wrong,” he stated as he pulled your back against his chest tighter.

“I thought you were tired,” you asked, raising an eyebrow at him. Moonjo sighed.

“I was, but you have to understand that having you sit on my lap in nothing but my shirt makes me wide awake somehow,” he reasoned in a mischievous voice, making you smack his chest slightly in embarrassment.

Moonjo then picked you up from his lap by your waist suddenly, making you yelp in surprise as he pushed you so you laid down on the couch, not taking even one second to be hovering over you. You looked up at him with a fond smile, bringing a hand up and tracing a large scar that travelled across his chest with a soft finger. He closed his eyes at the sensation and dropped his head so it was leaning against your collarbones and left a few kisses along your skin.

“You’re so pretty,” he whispered, slowly lifting the hem of his shirt from your body. You smiled at his compliment as you ran a hand through his jet-black hair, earning a soft sigh from him. “You too.”

Author’s Note: obviously Moonjo’s quite out of character since this doesn’t involve the whole Eden Studio situation, but in future fics I’ll make sure I’ll make him more true to the real character

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artxyra · 3 years

Text

Damian Acting Like A Teenager? Impossible.

When Damian entered the halls of Gotham Academy, the first thing he notices was the change in the dark atmosphere. It felt oddly kinder and more lighthearted. Everywhere he turns, there are whispers focus around the new girl. At first, he didn’t care about the gossip, well, that was until he met her.

It was an unusual encounter, something that he would look down on.

It was the passing period, and she was running down the halls in a hurry as he was walking to his next class, one that he didn’t particularly care for; they bump into each other, causing a standstill in the halls. Everyone wondered how the dark prince would react to their newly dubbed princess of sunshine. They expected a yelling match, which, of course, occurred, but what they didn’t expect was an eventual best of the worst of alliance ever made.

Several months passed since the two had met and several weeks since the blooming of Damian and Marinette’s friendship, and not a single student could say that there weren’t surprised.

The moment Marinette had broken down any (and all) walls that the boy had placed, she was able to make the stoic teen become his age. It started small with a joke here and there; then it progressed into card games followed by video games. To this day, Damian swears that he’ll beat her at a shooting game at one point, to which Marinette would respond with a laugh and an over-the-shoulder wink. The young Wayne swears that he has never blush a day in his life, but the photographic proof on Marinette’s phone says otherwise.

The school soon became accustomed to being Daminette’s playground. At first, the teachers were opposed to the idea, but after seeing how slightly more open Damian has become, they slowly agreed to the concept of allowing the duo to have less strict rules. That and they didn't want to be sued by the Wayne family.

Which now brings us to this moment: Marinette swings on a swing set while Damian practices his form with a katana; don’t ask how he managed to get it past security-- cause there is no answer.

“You know, maybe we should do something wild?” Marinette thinks aloud, looking up to the sky with a mischief smirk on her lips.

Damian doesn’t turn to her; he only sets the blade down to his side. “What mayhem do you have in mind?”

Marinette giggles uncontrollably.

Let’s assume that whatever Marinette had in mind would rule the yearbooks for years to come.

~☾★☽~

Since his partnership with Marinette, Damian has been hiding his characteristic change at home. Surprisingly, it was simple. A few death threats here and there, maybe sneaking out moments every so often. No one at the Wayne cared enough to pay any attention to it. It only then became a shock when Damian left for school along the lines of being late. Alfred had offered to take him to school to which Damian declined and got onto his “normal” motorcycle and speeds off.

“Does anyone else seem to think that Damian is acting strange?” Dick asks, pipping his head down from the ceiling. He’s on the chandelier again. Poor Alfred, maybe Dick should dust the chandelier for him as an apology.

Tim walks in with a large, filled to the brim, coffee mug in hand, “Which one?” He absently wonders, taking a long sip. The dark circles and bags around his eyes explain it all.

“I do concur with Master Richard; the young master has been acting somewhat strange for quite some time now.” Alfred appears out of nowhere, thus starting an array of concerns.

It wasn’t long before Jason came in shouting demands with the head of the household trailing behind him. Alfred reprimands Jason for the yelling as he hands Bruce a cup of coffee.

Not caring enough about the conversation and looking like a madman, Jason shouts, “Look, I can’t explain it, but we’re going to need Demon Spawn for something huge.”

“Uh, why would we need Baby Bird?” Dick asks, dropping onto the floor and twisting his body. “Not that I don’t mind getting Damian involved.”

“Look, there’s no time to explain,” Jason facepalms and begins to push everyone towards the door despite the lack of proper wear they have on.

After several protests and one change of clothes, the Wayne household now stands in front of the gates of Gotham Academy.

“Is it me, or does this place look less you know Gotham-y and full of life?” Tim ponders, narrowing his eyes, as he takes a long sip from a to-go coffee cup with Red Robin’s emblem.

“No, no, Timmy, I see it too.” Dick whispers as Jason struts past the gates and onto the school’s property like a man on a mission.

Bruce sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, “Come on, let’s go get your brother so Jason can stop being Jason.”

Tim shrugs before passing the gates himself, with Dick following him.

Upon entering the school, they could immediately see that it was either a passing period or free time from the number of students in the halls. Some student dared to pull out their phones while other whispers amongst themselves.

Bruce makes his way to the attendance office, where the attendance assistant, Joyce, resides sitting at the desk.

“Hello Joyce, I’m here to pick up Damian. He has a, uh, dentist appointment this evening.” Bruce speaks, hoping that she wouldn’t catch the lie.

“Well Mr. Wayne, Damian is, uh…” After lingering in her thoughts, Joyce turns to someone besides her. “Do you know where Damian Wayne would be at today?”

“Try the art room.” A feminine voice answers, followed by a series of typing noises.

Joyce turns back to the Wayne family and smiles, “He should be in the art room; it’s down the hall to your right, you should not miss it, as it’s in the only hallway that has a series of artwork posted on the walls. Before you go, please sign here."

Joyce hands Bruce a sign-out sheet, to which the man signs and ushers his wards to search for his youngest.

“They’re so screwed.” The same feminine voice speaks, causing Joyce to break out laughing.

It took a total of four different locations for the men to find the youngest Wayne.

First, they went to the art room like Joyce’s co-worker told them to do.

When they got there, Damian wasn't there, but the teacher did show Bruce a couple of Damian's artworks. Bruce couldn't help but feel proud.

While looking around the room, one of the art students told them they last saw Damian playing Pokémon Go near the gym; he was trying to catch a legendary Pokémon that spawned there.

So, of course, after an awkward eye contact with one another, they walk to the gym. Once again, Damian wasn’t there but a different student in his stead. He tells them that Damian was making ice sculptures out of ice cream at the cafeteria. The student then goes on to explain that Damian had some wicked skills with a knife.

Jason, with wide eyes, practically shouted at the student that he was crazy and that Damian would never, and he means NEVER would do something that stupid. The student shrugs it off like it was an everyday occurrence. It was Dick that had to hold Jason back from thrashing the teen. Bruce then apologizes to the instructor for their disturbance, as Tim walks casually behind Dick carrying Jason.

By the time they got to the cafeteria, it was damn near empty aside from a few students still eating. There were no signs of ice cream or the tools that would go into making an ice sculpture. Tim had to ask a few students to see if Damian was in here at some point in time. One of the workers overheard the question and answered him. Evidently, Damian was there earlier making sculptures out of ice cream before handing it out to students.

When they asked the question that has been slowly driving the four insane, the worker replies with: “Upstairs racing on these old colorful scooter board down the halls."

After three locations and no Damian, Tim wanted nothing more but to have a mental breakdown, and he would have if it wasn’t for Bruce holding him up and taking his coffee away.

So, they quickly found themselves on the second level of the school. There was no sight of Damian Wayne, though there were wheel tracks smudged into the flooring.

“Are you kidding me?” Jason shouts out into the ceiling. Thankfully, there were no students in the halls to hear it. Well, that might have been the case if it wasn’t for a teacher to open their door and shh the male. It took every bone in Jason's body not to show the teacher his middle finger.

After a beat of silence and walking down the hall, they overhear a familiar voice.

“Angel, you are desperately in the wrong here. The bear only wears one color, so it has to the color red.” Jason stops dead in his tracks and turns to railings.

The voice was too good to be true.

Looking over the staircase, they find an alcove, and sitting in it is none other than Damian Wayne himself, but he’s not alone.

“I’m telling you, Wayne. Pooh’s favorite color is yellow.” The female answers before taping her fingers as she makes her points, “He loves honey, which is by default a yellow color. He's never seen with a yellow background, and if yellow didn't clash with his fur, he would definitely be wearing it.”

“I disagree. Winnie the Pooh has been drawn on numerous of occasions with red items, not yellow. Case in point, the red balloon, his shirt." He counters. The conversation continues with banters and statements; whether it was true or false is up to debate.

This was not happening.

Tim.exe has stopped working.

Jason.exe has stopped working.

Jaws dropped, a low groaning sound.

They cannot be witnessing this. The most deadliest of the Wayne’s is currently arguing about Winnie, the motherfucking, Pooh’s favorite color.

Bruce has no words. He's practically in the same stance as his middle children. Dick, on the other hand, pulls out his phone and begins to record what remains of the conversation.

No one dares to move or utter out words. This version of Damian is the apocalypse. Nothing in the world is okay.

Slowly, the four Waynes exit the school; no one saw them leave.

Legend has it that Damian never went home that day despite being excused from his classes. When he had returned home, his family didn't utter a word to him. He was meet with either a profusely blinking, unwanted hug or laughter, as they were still in shock at what they just encountered. It wasn’t until a couple of months later that all hell breaks loose. Damian had introduced the family to Marinette.

----

A retouch version of Request #2

#maribat #mlb x dc #ml x dc #artxyra one-shots #daminette

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