#four-coloured-bandanas | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

goosewriting · 2 years

Note

Rise bros x reader 😤 it's a Yokai party hosted by Sunita where mysterious stranger reader is checking out the turtle, and the turtle is looking back, and theirs tension all night until reader approaches and is super flirty until they inevitably have to leave, and the reader and gives their number and the turtles just like wow that just happened, smitten with this stranger 🙃👍💗💗 love your writing

I couldn’t help but notice you’re staring

summary: the turtles keep catching a stranger stealing glances at them all night

relationship: Rise Leo, Raph, Mikey, Donnie x GN reader (separate)

warnings: nothing really? i’m not even sure this counts as fluff lol

word count: 3186

A/N: the drummer ask hit a special spot in my heart because i was a drummer back in high school and it was the best :’) when i read it i immediately thought of a hidden city party setting, so when i got the yokai party one i thought they’d go perfect together! so i decided to combine them. hope i could make them both justice :D

(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)

— — —

After some exciting months at April’s school, Sunita decided to host a big farewell party, since her exchange programme came to an end.

It took place in the Hidden City, and there were humans and yokai guests alike.

The turtles were of course ecstatic that they could be at such a big party. Sunita had even invited a band to play some music later. And thanks to her dad, it was Hueso who was in charge of the catering, so the four brothers were very busy gulping down some of the best food they’d had in a while.

That was until one of them abruptly looked up and around, dismissing the food for a second. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched.

🔵 Leo

You were standing on the other side of the hall, the light from the disco ball on the ceiling painting colourful and spinny patterns on the floor. You leaned with your back on the wall, arms crossed, and your eyes watching that turtle with a blue bandana intently. Ever since his group entered the room, there was just something about him that made you focus all of your attention on him.

Leo sat at the table, scanning the crowd with a light squint, until his gaze fell on you. He gulped down the rest of his food at how intensely you were looking at him. The room wasn’t lit all too well but even so he could tell there was this air of confidence around you, he was slightly intimidated. Not to mention that you looked stunning.

Throughout the night, he felt like he was being watched, and every time he turned around, lo and behold, there you were. You could be chatting with your friends, laughing, and just as he turned around, you’d steal a glance at him and shoot him a smile.

When Leo went to the drinks table to get some juice, again he felt like he was being watched. As inconspicuous as he could, he turned around again, and a couple tables farther back, you were helping yourself to the donuts, and again you shot a glance his way.

It was driving him insane, to be honest. It was clearly an invitation to go talk to you, but for some reason, just the thought of approaching you made him super nervous.

Just as he finally gathered enough courage to make his way to you, he couldn't find you anywhere. He went to Mikey to ask him if he had seen you, but suddenly the lights were turned off.

One single spotlight showed someone on the stage, presenting the band. The crowd cheered, and Leo decided to enjoy the music, since he wouldn't be able to find you in the darkness either way.

The curtains opened to reveal a band of four, which apparently consisted of both yokai and humans, as far as he could tell. All members were wearing masks so he wasn’t entirely sure.

“One, two, three, four!” the drummer counted, hitting the drum sticks to mark the tempo, and the band started jamming. The crowd cheered and clapped; they were really good.

Leo was enjoying the music, when he noticed something strangely familiar about the drummer. The way they moved, it was so full of grace and passion; he couldn't help but be quite mesmerised at the sight.

After a couple of songs, the announcer said they’d be taking a break but coming back up later. Just as the curtains were closing, the drummer faced the crowd one last time, both drum sticks in one hand, and pointed at them. For everyone else it probably seemed like they were just pointing at the crowd in general, thanking them for being a good audience, but Leo knew they were pointing at him. And that’s when he recognised your jacket; you’re the one who had been looking at him all night, driving him crazy.

He went by the stage and waited for the band members to come out. You came out last, still with your mask on. Upon seeing him wait for you at the door, you took off the garment hiding your face.

“Hey Blue” you greeted the turtle in a sing-song voice. Leo was caught completely off-guard, you looked even better up close.

“So…” he started. “I’ve kinda been feeling eyes boring into the back of my head all night and was wondering what that was about.” He gave you his signature smirk, trying to seem unphased.

“Can you blame me? It’s not every day I come across a handsome turtle like yourself.”

Leo’s heart skipped a beat. Had he finally met someone to keep up with his banter? Just as he was to retort, the other band members called for you.

“Look, I’d love to catch up, but I gotta go. Here” you took a pen and a piece of paper out of your pockets and scribbled something on it. “Why don’t we meet after the second part of the show? Would love to get to know you better.” You winked at him, pressing the paper into his hands.

Before Leo could even answer, you were gone. He blinked twice, trying to understand what just happened. Looking at the paper in his hand, he saw a phone number and your name with a little heart next to it.

Well, this night just got a lot more interesting, he smiled to himself, already typing the number into his phone.

🔴 Raph

Looking around the crowd, Raph scanned the room with his eyes, until his gaze connected with yours.

You were sitting a couple of tables farther back, laughing at something your friend said, but you were looking at him. Or maybe just in his general direction? Raph shook off the paranoid feeling from before, and resumed to enjoy his food.

A couple of minutes later though, he felt the same again. Looking up from his plate, he looked in your direction once more, and there you were, head propped on your elbow, looking at him. With your other hand, you gave him a little wave. Your friends stole some glances his way as well and giggled, and you joined them.

Were you messing with him? You were pretty cute though. What was even happening.

Raph was very confused, to say the least.

Throughout the night, whenever he felt like he was being watched, somewhere nearby you were stealing glances at him, shooting him smiles, waves, and- was that a wink? Raph’s brain short-circuited. Just as Mikey was shaking him by the shoulders, asking what was wrong, the lights shut off to show the announcer on the stage.

When the curtains lifted, he immediately recognised you sitting at the drums. Mainly because you shot him another of your smiles, which by now he realised he actively seeked out.

He had thought you were cute before, but seeing you now jamming out to the music, being so fierce and intense, for some reason it added even another layer of cuteness in his eyes.

As the band finished playing their last song, as the announcer said, the crowd started cheering, asking for one more jam. The band members looked at each other and agreed. The audience cheered and clapped.

Just as they were getting into position to start one last song, the drummer called the singer to them, and whispered something in their ear.

“This one goes out to Big Red!” the singer said into the mic, and then they started playing.

Mikey, who was standing next to Raph, elbowed his side, wiggling his eyebrows at him.

“Stop it” Raph brushed his brother off, but blushed nonetheless. He hoped you weren’t able to see it from the stage (you did).

After the band was done playing, he tried to come up with a plan. He really wanted to talk to you, but how? When he asked Mikey, he got some advice from Dr. Feelings, which wasn’t all too practical to be honest. So he took a deep breath and decided to just go and talk to you normally.

He was nervous and a bit stiff, but he quickly found you in the crowd, talking to some fans, apparently. The other people scattered just as he stood in front of you, towering over you unintentionally. You didn’t seem the least bit scared though.

“Did you like that last song, Red?” you asked, looking up at him, batting your eyes.

“S-Sure did!” he sheepishly scratched the back of his neck. “You were really good on the drums.”

“Most important member of the team! I carry the others on my back…” you proudly said, pointing at your shoulders with both thumbs. “…so they can shine.”

“Yeah, I know that feeling” Raph said softly, thinking about how he wanted to support his brothers for them to reach their full potential.

“So…” he started again, looking away. “You’ve been kinda looking at me all night. Was there something you wanted to say?”

You smiled mischievously at him, taking out a folded piece of paper out of your pocket.

“There’s a lot I want to say but this isn’t the place. Why don’t we catch up later, Red?” you placed the paper in his hand, your touch lingering just a second longer than necessary, and left to reunite with your band.

Raph opened the paper in his hand to reveal your number and name. He clenched his fist with the paper in a feeling of success.

Like a boss, he complimented himself.

🟠 Mikey

Scanning the crowd with a “hmm”, he rubbed his chin and let his eyes wander over the people. His gaze stopped when it connected to someone else’s eyes.

Noticing that he had seen you, you smiled at him and gave him a little wave.

Mikey’s heart did a somersault. The way you were looking at him like he was a snack… Oh mi gosh, he thought to himself, and brought his focus back to his brothers and the food.

“What’s wrong, Mikey?” Raph asked, concerned. “Your face is super red.”

“Nothing!!” Mikey retorted. “Everything’s cool.”

“Right…”

Just as he was forgetting about you, once again immersed in the debate with Donnie about the best Hidden City pizza toppings, Leo elbowed his side.

“Bro” Leo said, almost in disbelief. “I think that person over there is checking you out.”

Mikey’s eyes followed to where Leo was pointing, and indeed he was right. There you sat, just a couple tables over, giving him a once over with a smile. You were clearly not trying to hide it.

Mikey’s face went red once more, and he turned around to avoid your gaze.

“Aw, baby brother. They grow up so fast.” Raph cooed. “Why don’t you go talk to them?”

“Isn’t the band about to play?” the orange turtle diverted the topic. “Let’s get closer to the stage!”

His brothers shared an amused look but agreed, and made their way to join the audience, already eagerly waiting.

As the announcer was on stage, Mikey looked around trying to find you in the crowd, but to no avail: you were nowhere to be seen. He wasn’t sure if he felt relieved or a bit disappointed.

The curtains lifted and the band stood in position to play. All members were wearing masks, and Mikey couldn't recognise anyone.

Their music was really good, and Mikey jammed out, playing air guitar and everything. The band played a couple of covers of well known songs as well, and he sang along to the lyrics he knew. When they were done, he was pretty out of breath, and cheered along with the rest of the crowd.

Just as the band was leaving the stage to take a break, the drummer lifted up the mask slightly, and made eye contact with Mikey, who was standing pretty close to the stage by now. Recognising that it was you from before, Mikey gave a shy wave, and you winked at him, leaving him a blushing mess yet again.

Leo was poking fun at him, when he saw you approach them from behind Mikey, and with one last jab of his elbow he left, calling a “Good luck~” over his shoulders.

Mikey tilted his head in confusion, but turned around when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He came face to face with you, and blushed for the upteenth time that night.

Cute, you thought.

“So, rocker boy, I take it you enjoyed the music?” you asked, imitating his air guitar from earlier.

“Yeah, I did! You guys were great” he replied earnestly.

“Have you ever played a real guitar?” you asked, looking him up and down once more.

“Not really, I don’t play any instrument actually” Mikey said, avoiding your gaze and scratching his cheek in thought. Then his eyes found yours again. “But if I had to choose I think I’d go with the drums. They’re the coolest, if you ask me.”

“Well, you know I’ll agree to that!” you laughed. “Good thing I used this then and not the guitar or bass” you said, giving him your drumsticks.

“Wha-“ Mikey started but you cut him off, placing your other hand on his chest. “Just consider them a souvenir.”

You took a couple steps back, holding one fist to the side of your face, thumb and pinky finger stretched out, and mouthed ‘Call me’. Then you turned on your heels and joined your band members.

Mikey was left quite flabbergasted. What just happened?, he kept repeating in his head. That was until he looked at the drumsticks in his hands and noticed that you had written your name on one and your number on the other.

Maybe he’d ask you for some drumming lessons, after all.

🟣 Donnie

Donnie finished chewing the last bit of food he had in his mouth, scanning the crowd with a grumble. He was about to use his goggles, when his gaze fell on yours.

You were not too far away, pouring yourself a drink, but didn’t break eye contact with him. You merely smiled at him, bringing the drink to your lips and taking a sip, then turned around and joined your group of friends.

Donnie brushed it off as probably being in your line of sight for someone behind him, and brought his attention back to the food and the shenanigans of his brothers.

The whole night he kept feeling like he was being watched though. Every time he turned around, you were somewhere nearby, stealing glances at him. It was getting on his nerves. If you wanted something, why not just talk to him?

It must be the bad boy persona, he reasoned with himself. They’re clearly intimated but can’t keep their eyes from me, understandable.

After coming to that conclusion, he found himself actively seeking you out, trying to get your eyes to meet his, and give you a smug grin. You responded with a little wave and a smile every time. Lingering looks and shy smiles went back and forth, except for this time, when he was once again trying to be nonchalant about it, but it was obvious he was looking for you. So when he once again smiled and gave a little wave of his own, you looked him up and done once, smiled, but then bit your bottom lip. That took him off-guard. Had you been flirting this whole time? He just wanted to follow your little game. Wait, what-

The lights were shut off, and the announcer stood on the stage, presenting the band for the night. All four of them had masks on, making them hard to recognise or even tell apart.

Donnie however didn’t get too much about the first songs since in his brain he was running every possible scenario and calculation on what had happened, how it happened, and what to do the next time he’d catch you looking at him. Had he even caught you? Or did you let yourself be caught? Or was it actually him getting caught for looking at you?

He only came back to reality with an elbow jab from Leo, giving him a smug look, as the singer had just announced that the drummer wanted the next song to go out to “Handsome Purple”.

The show was over all too soon, before Donnie could formulate a solid plan in his head, and the crowd started to scatter after cheering.

He went to look for April; she was his best shot at making some sense out of this whole situation.

Just as he was about to take a step in her direction, he felt a tap on his shoulder. Thinking it was Leo again to make fun of him, he turned around with an unamused look. When he saw you, he was just surprised.

“Ah, the drummer” he said, seeing as you were holding your drumsticks in your hand.

“Did you enjoy the show?” you asked amused, since he clearly hadn’t recognised you.

“Yes, it’s not what I usually listen to but it was a nice change of pace. Could use some synthetiser though…” He added that last part under his breath.

“Is that so, Purple?” you asked and took off your mask. Donnie gasped in surprise.

“You…!” Pointing at you with an accusing finger, he tried to come up with something to say. “All night, you’ve been terrorising me, and…” His mouth opened and closed several times, but nothing else came out. You just laughed, not to make fun of him, but because you were amused by his reaction. Placing your hand on his, you pulled it down so he wasn’t pointing at you anymore. You didn’t remove your hand from his however.

“Me?” you asked, feigning innocence. “I’m pretty sure by the end it was you who was looking for me, hm?” You quirked one eyebrow up at him. “Guess you couldn’t keep your eyes off me, huh?”

“Scoff!” Donnie said and placed his other hand on his hip. The one you were holding he didn’t move to pull away. “It was you who started. Clearly it was you who couldn’t keep your eyes off all of this.” He gestured at himself. “And apparently your hands neither.” He smirked.

“Ah, you got me” you smiled at him. “Let me make it up to you, here.” You took out your phone, opening your contact list and adding a new one. For the name you wrote ‘Handsome Purple’.

“Care to share your digits? You strike me as a numbers person.” you asked him. Donnie said that you were indeed right, with a triumphant smile, and gave you his number.

Saving the contact, you put your phone away and said your goodbyes, since you had to meet up with your band for the next part.

“Ah, wait!” Donnie called when you were a couple of steps away. “I’m Donatello by the way, most call me Donnie. I didn’t catch your name?”

“My name is Y/n” you retorted and once again gave him a once over with mischievous eyes. “But you can call me whatever you like.”

#goose feathers #rottmnt #save rottmnt #rottmnt leo x reader #rottmnt raph x reader #rottmnt mikey x reader #rottmnt donnie x reader #tmnt x reader #tmnt 2018 #rottmnt x reader #el-chiste

591 notes · View notes

whilmsy · 1 year

Text

hello miners and crafters it’s me silly guy back with another scar post <3 this is heavily inspired by and written for the beloved @stiffyck and their double life art of green scar meeting himself as a red life! i am very normal about him <3

In a dream-like world, Scar awakens. It’s nothing dramatic: a soft huff of the exhale that leaves his lips, feeling distant and there all the same. There is no fear, no dread; what there is, is a forest.

Trees wind and loom above him, adding to the unsettling feeling that sits heavy in his chest as the night stretches far and wide in the sky above. The moon is small. It’s obvious that something or someone had passed through earlier, because there are tracks that mark the ground, both horse and human. Quietly, with a frown on his face and a furrow of eyebrows, Scar glances at the world around him. It doesn’t take him any time at all to know that he’s never seen this place before.

A cold dread crawls down his spine, he feels watched.

Maybe it’s a prank? The thought comes suddenly as soon as he realises his heart starts beating a little faster, as if trying to keep himself from panicking makes him panic more. It has to be a prank, it has to be; but Scar looks down, and he doesn’t remember ever wearing something like this.

The outfit he wears is… well, it seems like something he would wear - he guesses so, anyway. It’s a cream coloured shirt that’s buttoned up and a green bandana tied up on his right arm, dark cargo pants and a satchel that crosses over from his left shoulder and rests against his hip.

Weird, he muses, but not the worst thing that’s happened to him.

Then, Scar looks back up again, and someone else stands in front of him, leaning against a tree.

They look eerily familiar, too familiar.

Green eyes meet red eyes, and Scar realises this:

They look familiar because it’s him.

He doesn’t know if seeing himself from another perspective is better or worse.

It couldn’t be easier to know it was him, he’s seen his reflection enough times to know that it is. But as the figure takes slow steps forward, something akin to dread grabs his heart and squeezes it. For a moment as he watches, Scar thinks his heart stops in his chest. This version of himself has vibrant red eyes that gleam with a familiar sense of losing control and giving in to the blood-shed, and that makes him feel cautious; he’s never seen himself as red, but Scar knows what his mind is like when he is red.

This version of himself grins in a way that makes Scar feel a prickle of danger and he finally understands what other players of these games mean when they talk about him being unhinged as soon as he hits red. This red eyed image of himself is paler, wearing a black shirt that stays unbuttoned (Scar is not, at all, surprised by this) with a red heart embroidered on the front (a warning and foolishly brave: a warning of red and bloodshed, foolish in a cry of I can die at any given moment), and darker pants. The boots they both wear are the same, although his red state has boots that are stained with ash, dirt and blood.

And as they move closer, Scar feels that cold dread turn into an icy fear when he notices more about the person walking towards him.

His red life is covered in old cuts and bandages that look useless with the way they wrap too tightly around his arms, hands and neck, and he prays silently that he doesn’t know what they’re for. (Scar can see the faint bite marks on his red self’s neck as they cock their head to the side. His attempt at remaining calm ends with him feeling grief, and he knows that anguish is soon to flood his every thought.) There are new explosion scars, he notices silently, and he dreads it. His four ears are torn and cut at the edges, he dreads that too; they’re something he’s prideful of, he thinks he wants to cry just seeing it on this version of himself.

This version of himself looks dead, and Scar didn’t realise he could ever feel more scared of himself than he is in this moment. Sure, he’s had those red thoughts that stick around when the games are over, and it’s a little scary, but actually seeing himself as the thing he’s so numb to when it actually happens is… he thinks he’s allowed to be scared, in a way.

Scar has never seen what he’s like as a red, he’s lived it; there’s a difference. The difference is that you lose yourself, you lose who you are and you feel numb and the only time you remember really, truly, feeling absolute heart soaring joy is when there is blood on your hands and you are the one spilling it.

“Yeah,” the red life says - bringing him back from his thoughts - as if Scar’s panic is something they were waiting for, “you’ll get used to it eventually.” It sounds exhausted in a way, that sense of having given up long ago.

Scar doesn’t like it.

“No, I don’t-”

“Don’t what?” They bite back, emotionless. “Nothing you think to do will change this. It’ll happen either way.” The figure laughs hauntingly, unhinged. “You’ll still die, and Grian will still scream at you like that’ll do something to help.”

They both know the red life said the wrong thing with the way they grimace, with the way the tension drains and yet grows back stronger.

“…Grian’s with us?..” There is a shocked tone to the question, hopeful, and the man with the green bandana wrapped around his arm watches in real time as his red life’s expression grows from apathetic and into something more angry.

“It would’ve been better if he wasn’t. He barely sticks around anyway.” The red life sounds bitter and so incredibly sad and it all gets balled up into one emotion: anger. Their hands - bitten and scratched and covered in bandages - curl up into fists. “It would’ve been so much better if he didn’t just drag us along with him.”

Scar seems to shrink in on himself for a moment before remembering, again, that this is him. Softer, gentler, he says, “Maybe he was just scared,” because he knows that’s probably true. He knows that people react differently in different situations, has teamed up with Grian before; he knows Grian.

There is a huff of frustration from in front of him, and in a sudden sense of panic, Scar takes a step back; he has no idea where he is, and yet he wants to run from this blood thirsty version of himself very, very suddenly.

A hand grasping his left arm tightly dismisses that idea very, very quickly.

“Grian doesn’t care.” The red life version of himself hisses spitefully, says every word slowly - makes sure to drive home the idea of that sentence. There is an underlying sense of pain in their tone. Scar slowly feels the blood flow to his hand lessening. “I bet you that right now he’s off frolicking with that secret soulmate of his.” It doesn’t make any sense to him. His mirror image grimaces, eyes shining dangerously; Scar doesn’t know if it’s bloodlust or tears. “Grian doesn’t care about you. He doesn’t care about me. He doesn’t care about us.” Quieter, as if like a flame that is put out but keeps the remains still painfully warm, the red name says, “Grian only stays when it’s an obligation. They all do.”

Despite the fact that it rings true in his mind, Scar still knows it isn’t entirely true, isn’t numbed by an apathetic, blood-lusting red, but it still feels bitterly like denial. He says, “No-”

“You really think so?” The other version of himself asks, gripping Scar’s arm tighter when he tries pulling it away. “What about the first game?” desert sand and a home built from sandstone, trying and failing to avoid heatstroke, “The second one?” snow-capped mountains that echoed lonely lonely lonely, an enchanter and his lives being his best bet for someone to show up. “In one, Grian stayed because he killed you on accident. In the other, he couldn’t care less. He said it himself: The past doesn’t matter. He won’t bother to stick around if he doesn’t owe you something. Don’t get your hopes up for something that never lasts. It won’t be your gifts that he cherishes, but I think we both know that.”

Scar thinks of lilacs and poppies and he thinks yes he would, he would cherish them, he does- he did, he did he did he did he did. But then he thinks of that second game, of how Grian couldn't wait to take his life and flee with it. He doesn't like this.

There is something so painfully understanding in his reflection’s reaction, something that Scar both craves and hates, because it’s pity; as much as Scar wants to be understood and cared for, it hurts that it’s himself that’s being the person to do it. In a softer, pain-filled tone, as they move their head closer to his ear - still gripping his arm, although he’d already given up on trying to free himself from the red - they ask, “You see it now, don't you?”

Scar doesn’t give a verbal or physical response, frozen.

A moment of respite, the seconds of silence feel like everything and nothing; too much and yet too little. It feels weirdly like dissociating: his head empty of any thought or emotion he knows he should be feeling, despite knowing he feels weirdly numb and not all there. Maybe he is, just for a moment. He doesn’t yet realise that the hand gripping his arm tightly in place let's go, the blood flowing properly again and his hand looking more like his.

Those are his excuses for being the reason why he asks, “Do we have friends this time?” He hopes that neither of them can hear the longing in his tone, hopes that they both ignore how naive the question is.

“…We have some allies.” There is an obvious lie in the answer, they’re lying about something; what exactly, Scar isn’t sure of. It’s not a proper answer, not even a yes, and that makes the gaping void in his chest called loneliness grow larger, agonisingly slowly.

Scar laughs bitterly. “Better than last time.” Better than nothing stays unsaid. The red life in front of him echoes that same laughter, nodding in agreement. They seem to want to say something.

“You could put it that way, but… we did have someone. I think we did. I hope so, otherwise we really need to learn how allies and friends work.” They move back slightly, not taking a large step, but they move back enough that Scar doesn’t feel like he’s cornered anymore.

He doesn’t say anything in response, and so they keep talking, it’s the furthest away from that red apathy that they’ve seemed the entire time, and slowly that fear of his red self lessens. “It’s Pearl,” they say simply, soft in a way Scar knows he is when he’s red; when it’s a gentle care about llama’s and bee’s - about the little things that are so absolutely useless in the world where you fight for your life, but so important to him because it gives him that sense of comfort. “She…she’s a good friend.”

There isn’t much information to go off, but he guesses that it makes sense in the bigger picture - probably not the best to know how everything goes before it starts, it might just cause more problems than what has, probably, already been set in stone. Vaguely, Scar tries to argue with his own thoughts; surely this can’t be real, right? This is some sort of sick dream that his mind has made up just for him. Surely this is a sad, sad hell of his own creation.

Distrustful, marked by the previous game like a shattered glass-stained window, Scar asks, “She doesn’t betray us?” Because it is so, so hard to believe it’s true. Above them, the night is slowly beginning to fade into dawn.

“You believe me anyway,” the red life answers knowingly, and the expression on their face says it all; the glint in their red eyes has faded to a softer, calmer glimmer. They continue speaking. “We both know how bad we want it, and it’s hard to believe it, but….even when Grian doesn’t want us around, Pearl does, even if she’s a bit unpredictable - so are we.” Scar knows that tone, knows the way his heart aches when he’s left behind, knows the way his heart soared when they left that world behind; he knows the tone that they speak in, and it’s something in between those two emotions.

Of being left behind, but not being entirely alone.

The smile on his red self’s face seems to fade entirely again, leaving a more.. calmer expression; sad, but at peace with it. Guilty, almost. “I’m sorry you have to find out this way,” they say smoothly as the sun continues rising through the trees, and the way they say have instead of had settles wrongly on his skin. Because Scar doesn’t want to learn this. He wants to wake up from this dream-like world. Wants to wake up from this nightmare and start his day shakily and work so hard on building that he doesn’t have to remember this dream. “But,” they continue, and Scar hopes they don’t realise how trapped in his own thoughts he is, “the only time Grian cares is when it keeps him alive.”

There is a second of silence, there are hands pulling him closer and for the first time since he’s been here, Scar doesn’t flinch when the red version of himself pulls him close and-

And hugs him. They pull him in, arms cradling him close as if to hold him together - a way Scar likes to be hugged, because it’s grounding, a pressure. They hug him, and the sun shines brightly in his eyes, and they say, “I’m sorry that you’ll see it soon enough.”

And-

And the world changes.

There is a pressure holding him close, and then there is nothingness. The trees of the forest he was in, in that dream world, are gone, and Scar hates to admit that his breath is shaky and stuttering at the sudden change when he opens his eyes.

He misses that warmth, even if that version was deader than him, he misses that hug. Which is… embarrassing to think of, because that was a version of himself that hugged him and it’s this whole thing then, and-

And there’s a green bandana on his arm, and a satchel by his waist and-

“Scar?”

And there is a mark on his forearm, where he was grabbed and it still tingles, similar to pins and needles-

“Scar? Hello? Anyone in there?”

His gaze finally breaks from staring at the handprint left of his arm, forcing himself to stop analysing the faint red mark left behind and forcing his gaze up and-

It’s Pearl.

Of course it would be Pearl.

Something makes him feel sick to his stomach, something foreboding and knowing.

“Well, hello there!” Scar says cheerily, a forced smile on his face and his eyes tightly shut in an attempt to really pull off the act. He looks at Pearl, and he realises that it’s not just the two of them.

There are more people, an even number of people that have been in previous games. He looks at Grian, Grian looks at him, and Scar hopes he doesn’t break eye contact too quickly.

The excited conversations fade to silence as Pearl asks him something again, but he can’t hear what she’s saying when he’s too caught up in the idea that everyone is looking at him, and he doesn't like the familiar sense of being watched.

His heart beats hurriedly, thumping much too fast for him, and he pretends that he’s still listening to whatever Pearl is saying.

“Hm? Oh! I’m fine.” Scar replies to a question he doesn’t properly hear, showing too much teeth in a too strained grin. Fake, Fake, Fake. There is a ghost of a hand that tightens around his arm, he pushes through. “Excited to see where this game goes!” He’s so quick to fall into that familiar act, that scheme, that teasing, that unpredictability. “Jimmy, it will be nice knowing you.” He says mournfully, teasing.

“Excuse me?!” Jimmy shouts, falling right into Scar’s easily planned trap; Scar laughs loudly, and everyone else joins in as he attempts to argue back. It’s easy to fall into that, something they all know, something to change what they’re focusing on.

He knows Pearl’s still looking at him, knows that Grian is still looking at him; but as long as the mask stays on, no one needs to know.

And soon enough, when a Warden shrieks and his last shared life shatters as his ears ring dangerously loudly, Scar drops from his horse, and he’s too exhausted to cry when he realises the forest he’s in where his last life fades from him is painfully familiar. It’s funny that he wasn’t the reason that they lost their last life, that he didn’t die from heartbreak.

#gtws fanfic #goodtimeswithscar #ficification #my absolute beloved #double life scar #double life #gtws #gtws tcd #tcd mentions #because i’m normal #pearlescentmoon #because she is there smile #double life grian #double life pearl #jimmy solidarity #jimmy solidarity double life #i adore him he’s so dramatic #idk what else to put in the tags #i’m probably missing tags o7

194 notes · View notes

chouxsardine · 4 months

Text

Love is a four-legged word--Sam Kiszka x reader

Summary: Love comes in all forms, it is, afterall, a four-legged word--Sam and y/n met at a park while walking their dogs. The furry friends are their best wingman.

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 7418

Warnings: dogs, description of crying, allusion to death of pet, death of animals, mention of the name of alcohol (but no alcohol involved) (please let me know if I missed any!)

Genre: fluff, angst, hurt/comfort

Author's note: This is my longest piece so far and my first Sam piece (yipee!! exciting!) This was a Christmas gift to I want to @dannythedog thank her for hosting the gvf secret santa. But as late as it was… I hope it can still count as a New Year's gift? This took so long to write and I myself went through a pretty emotional journey while writing this. I have more to say, but I will save for the end if you care to read it. Enjoy for now.

“Come on, Rosie bug, it’s time for your walk.” Sam stood up from the sofa, raising his arm for a stretch.

Being the good girl that she is, Rosie was already waiting patiently at the door, sitting still while Sam put the harness and leash on her.

It was a sunny afternoon, warm and cloudless after consecutive days of rain. Taking advantage of the delightful weather, Sam decided to extend their daily walk and take Rose to the park. He has always loved this park. There’s just something so intimate about this public space that always draws him towards it. It is situated a few blocks away from downtown, a beautiful getaway from the hurly burly of the city. It has a large lawn area that turns into the most pleasant shade of green in April, around his birthday. The colour so lovely that it gives him the urge to touch the grass, hug a tree, and nuzzle his face into nature. It is also the best place to people-watch—college lovebirds, laughing toddlers, family picnics—it is like being in one of Georges Seurat’s paintings.

It seems that many people think the same way as Sam. The park was busier than usual. The duo took their familiar route, following the gravel path to the fountain where the running tracks start. They would take a break on the bench where Rose can enjoy some treats.

Sam has done a good job socializing Rose due to the need for frequently traveling on the road. Rose is a curious girl and is open to making new friends, but she always listens to Sam. When other dogs pass by either barking over-excitedly or stopping to exchange friendly sniffs, Rose generally remains unfazed. She knows that remaining her composure and staying close to Sam is going to warrant some loving pets and yummy treats. Therefore, when a black and white Pit Bull trotted up to Rose, Sam didn’t pay too much attention. The dogs are all on leashes in this area. If any of them stop for a little longer, Sam will usually exchange a friendly smile with the owner, then each side will go about their own business. However, Rose seemed to be especially interested in this new friend. She stood up and started wagging her tail softly, gently bumping nose with her newfound friend, learning their smell and demeanour. That’s when Sam noticed that this dog looked a little special. Instead of the common collar, it was wearing a blue bandana with the word “adopt” printed on the corner. Sam followed the leash and looked all the way up. He saw a pretty girl looking down at the two dogs interacting with a mesmerizing smile.

Sensing his gaze, the girl quickly looked up.

“Oh hi, so sorry about this. Klaus is a shelter dog; he doesn’t get to interact with other dogs a lot, so he got a bit excited.” She said apologetically.

Ah, so that explains the bandana.

Now it seemed that Klaus took an interest in Sam as well. Considering his lack of socialization, Sam thinks Klaus is doing exceptionally well. He was sniffing Sam’s jeans, nudging his ankles with his nose.

“No, no, don’t worry. I don’t mind.” Sam bent down and extended the back of his hand to Klaus. After receiving a lick and some kisses as signs of approval, he started scratching Klaus behind the ears. “I’m Sam, and this is Rose.”

“Nice to meet you, Sam. I’m y/n,” y/n said before crouching down. Rose immediately moved towards her and started pawing her hand.

One thing Sam loves the most about Rose is that she has good taste in people. Come on, this girl chose Sam to be her handler. (Sam has always believed that it is Rose who came to him, not the other way around.) And based on Rose’s reaction now, Sam would like to boldly assume that y/n is a decent person as well.

“Come on, Klaus, let’s go.” y/n gently tugged the leash, but she was completely ignored. The two dogs were already playing together, bowing and bouncing just like puppies.

“They can play for a bit,” Sam said. He loves seeing Rose Bud making friends. “If you are not in a rush, that is.”

“No, I’m not. Thank you so much,” y/n relented.

“So, Klaus is a shelter dog, you said?” Sam asked as he scooted over and let out more space on the bench for y/n to sit next to him.

“Yes, today is his Doggy Day Out,” y/n kindly explained. “People can sign up to take a shelter dog out for a ‘field trip’ for a day. It helps them manage kennel stress and increases their chances of getting adopted.”

The thoughtfulness of the idea makes Sam smile. He has heard about similar programs before, but this was his first time encountering an example in real life. “So you chose Klaus?”

“Yeah, Klaus is one of the longest residents at the shelter.” y/n cupped the dog’s adorable face in her hands and cooed. “I mean, look at his face, how could I say no? Besides, people often have a misunderstanding about Pit Bulls, you know, about them being aggressive and all; so it’s harder for them to get adopted.”

As absurd as it sounds, that is sadly the truth. Sam remembers seeing more than once those distasteful comments under Rose’s account.

“Indeed. Sometimes we truly don’t deserve dogs.” He said.

A comfortable silence draped over them, except it was quite loud in y/n’s mind and chest right now. Y/n had been stealing glances at the man next to her in between conversations the whole time and she hoped she wasn’t being too obvious. There was no denial that Sam is outright gorgeous. He was wearing a navy blue t-shirt underneath an unbuttoned black plaid shirt, black pants, and a pair of Nike blazers. But what attracted her the most was his hair, the hair that suddenly made her self-conscious about her own (which really needed to get washed today). Sam has dark brown hair the length to his shoulder. The loose curls look lush and smooth, shining under the sunlight, which makes it a lighter flax colour. The strands that frizzes away are delicate and golden, swaying along with his breathing. Y/n bet they are silky and soft to the touch too. Plus, he has really pretty hands, with the pink leash wrapped around his palm contrasting against his olive skin. Slim, bony fingers, with nails that are clean, round and well-trimmed. Those are hands well-kept.

Maybe there is a grain of truth to what people say about first impression after all, Sam thought. A girl with Rose’s approval, a nice smile, and a sensible and tasteful take on Pit Bulls (She also looks cute). Sam thinks he quite liked her.

“So, what are your plans for the day? I mean, for Klaus?” Sam quickly corrected himself to sound less snoopy.

“We haven’t left the shelter for long. I was planning on getting him a pup cup first.”

“Pup cup! What a coincidence, that’s exactly what Rose bug and I have in mind,” (Liar. He didn’t). Sam put on his best smile. “Mind if we join you?”

Their conversation carried on smoothly as they made their way to the nearby bakery. Sam found out that y/n volunteers at the local shelter and works as a freelance photographer and a part-time dog walker. Y/n learned that Sam is a bassist and keyboard player who is in a band with his brothers (“That explains the pretty fingers,” Y/n thought to herself).

The bakery is a hidden gem in the neighbourhood, with a walk-up window inlaid into the white brick wall. A blackboard with cursive chalk writing was propped up beside it, displaying the menu. A separate hand-drawn poster on the wall sayid “puppuccino available for furry friends” in brush lettering.

“Do you want anything? My treat,” Sam asked as they approached the queue. “Please say yes so I have an excuse to ask for your number just in case you want to return the favour sometime.”

A bold move? Yes. But he felt like taking chances today.

Y/n raised her eyebrows in slight surprise. Sam held her gaze, silently restating his point.

“Fine, if you insist.”

“I do insist.” Sam stepped aside as it was their turn to order and let y/n go first. “After you.”

That’s smooth. Real Smooth. Y/n thought. Almost as smooth as his hair.

For the next few weeks, Sam and y/n has been talking on and off through text messages. Their chat history was mainly composed of Sam sending goofy dog videos and y/n replying with cute pictures she took of dogs at the shelter. Sometimes Sam spotted y/n holding multiple leashes, walking dogs on the sidewalk, and sometimes he went to the shelter under the excuse of dropping off donations just to see her. Occasionally, they would fix a date to meet at the park for a “puppy play date” when y/n took another dog on their Doggy Day Out. While the dogs rolled together or chased each other within their sight, they would sit on the bench with coffee cups in their hands and a box of cookies between them to share. Y/n found Sam to be a charming guy. She loves his brutal honesty and his humour with a witty tongue. He loves to hold her gaze while talking to her. At first, she hated it—the unrelenting stare from those captivating brown eyes makes her want to squirm in her seat—and Sam was never the first to break eye contact. But over time she had learnt to stare back nonchalantly, usually with a single raise of her eyebrow.

There was no lack of vocal banters as well, which usually embarks after one of them blurts out some controversial opinion. With some people, a debate over things like if pineapple belongs on pizza or should you pour milk before cereal can quickly lead to annoyances, but it’s different with Sam. Sam brings out the competitiveness in y/n just like she was back in her high school debate club. Backchat with Sam is fun; he makes one willing to takes all the steps—from gathering evidence to forming thesis statement—just to be rebutted by a single line of his ingenious comment; and y/n is not even mad about it. The cherry on top is that Sam always likes to push one step further by adding the flirtatious “What now, little mama, cat caught your tongue?”. She feels offended in the best possible way.

On the other hand, as composed as he seems to y/n, Sam feels that things always came out of his mouth without filters when he is with y/n. For example, he will never let go of that one time they argued about the right way to hang up toilet paper.

“It’s obviously under! Have you ever had times when you hang it over and it unrolls itself and you get this massive pile of toilet paper on the floor?”

“No, Sam, I have not. I’m pretty sure that’s because you got a bad roll or some mean spirit in your bathroom pulled it.”

“It’s a perfect roll, just out of the package!”

“Then it’s definitely some mean spirit. Burning some sage should fix it. Obviously, the correct way is over so that it doesn’t rub against the wall.”

“Bold of you to assume I have dirty walls!”

“How do I know? You probably do!”

“I will not stand any defamation to my name and my wall. You can only form such an opinion after you have checked it out!”

Y/n gave him an interesting look. Just before she could say something, Rose rushed back to their side, and for once, Sam was relieved that the debate withered away because as soon as those words left his mouth, he wanted to slap himself.

Why would you say that, you freaking idiot? What kind of activities should you be engaging in that will lead to a situation involving you showing her the cleanness of your bathroom wall, which unfortunately is, in fact, kind of gross and stained with flashed pee?

But fate is a fickle little thing. Little does Sam know, it was not long before they did end up in that situation, just not in the way as he has expected.

Earlier that day, Sam has sent y/n a message asking if she wants to meet at the park the next day and received a brief message that reads, “Sorry, got caught up at the shelter”.

That is usually a bad sign because it means that there’s either a large intake or some kind of emergency. Y/n also ran a volunteer social media account, posting adorable pictures and short videos that she took of the dogs when she takes them out for a walk for temperament tests, adding visibility to help they find a loving home. Sam vaguely remembered y/n mentioning that they took in a puppy that was hit by a car. He secretly hoped it wasn’t any bad news. Sam debated between sending her a goofy dog meme with the caption “Take care” to lighten up the mood or asking further. He waited, but the three dots on the other side of the chat box never came up.

It was around nine in the evening when Sam received another text from y/n.

Y/n: Are you busy right now?

Sam: No, just chilling. What’s up?

Y/n: My car broke down.

The three dots are still blinking when Sam’s finger flew through the screen.

Sam: location?

Sam: I’ll be there.

Rose looked up confused from her spot on the couch, when Sam rushed to the foyer, one arm already in his jacket and stuffing his feet into shoes.

“Hold the fort, Rose bud!” He yelled before locking the door behind him.

Y/n’s car broke down not too far away from the shelter. Sam saw the tow truck and the roadside assistance as he drove near. Y/n was talking to the truck driver. From the distance, she looked so forlorn and lost under the jarring redness of warning lights. The size different between her and the heavyset man towering over her makes her looked like a puppy soaked in rain. Sam had never felt such a strong sense of protectiveness towards anyone. He wanted nothing more than to rush to her side and engulf her in a hug, if she would let him.

He almost drifted as he swerved his car into an empty parking space by the side of the road. He ran to y/n’s side.

“Okay, Miss. The insurance company will contact you for further details,” the roadside assistance worker nodded to y/n. “The truck will tow your car to the garage. Do you have a ride home?”

“Yes,” said Sam before y/n could answer.

The man gave him a knowing look before he said, “Good. Make sure you take all your valuable belongings in the car with you.”

Sam helped y/n put her stuff in the backseat of his car before opening the passenger side’s door for her. Sam had noticed that y/n’s body was stiff and tense the whole time when she was standing outside, and it remained so as she plopped down onto the seat.

“Are you okay? Did you get hurt?” Sam turned to her eagerly once he had situated himself.

As soon as the words left his lips, the dam broke loose. Y/n’s shoulder visibly relaxed as loud sobs ripped through her body. She tried to purse her lips and contain herself but tragically failed. For a minute, she couldn’t make a single syllable other than frantically shaking her head and shoving her hands to her mouth, trying to muffle her crying. Y/n’s whimper filled the car, mixed with the loud beeping alert and yelling outside as the truck towed y/n’s car away.

“Oh, y/n,” Sam felt like someone had stamped on his heart. “Can I give you a h—”

Without a word, y/n almost knocked herself into his arms. It was only when he was holding her that he realized how badly she was trembling. This is their first proper hug, far from how Sam has imagined it. He wrapped his arms around y/n’s frame, one hand hugging her shoulders to him and the other rubbing her hand in wide, gentle stripes, tucking her head under his chin. Y/n’s hand held onto Sam’s arm, fingers digging into his biceps like a drowning person holding onto a piece of driftwood. Sam was firstly relived that y/n was not physically hurt; and then there were the emotions, which they could deal with. Whatever made her this devastated, he was determined to turn it around and make it better.

They stayed like that for a while, bodies squishing together uncomfortably over the middle console, until Y/n finally started to calm down.

She pulled away from Sam’s hug. Sam immediately reached to the backseat for the tissue box, from which y/n took a handful of tissues and turned her head to the side to wipe her face.

“It…it was Huxley,” she was fighting to speak without breaking down again. “He’s g—gone.”

Upon hearing the name, Sam’s heart dropped to the bottom of his stomach. His former wish had fallen through after all. Huxley was the puppy that came to the shelter from a car accident. He was sent in by a Good Samaritan on Monday. From the photo y/n posted, Sam knew that he was a young Australian cattle dog. Sam thought he was out of danger as y/n updated the post on Tuesday, saying that there was a rescue willing to pull him.

Sam didn’t press on with further questions. He sat patiently, handing y/n more tissues as she needed and waited to piece together the story from snatches of her speech.

“They did an x-ray and found he has a fractured pelvis. A rescue tagged him…and he was supposed to l-leave the shelter today.”

“We thought he was f-fine until…until he suddenly deteriorated this a-afternoon. There was, um, internal bleeding and… the vet said, the in-injury was too serious to recover and, and s-suggested…”

It was taking all her strength for y/n to squeeze out the last few words: “…it…it was the kindest to..put him d-down.”

Y/n buried her face into her hands as she resorted to another burst of weeping. Her shoulders shuddered with every muffled sob. “He reminded me of Wendy…I couldn’t save n-neither of them!”

This was the first time Sam has heard about Wendy from y/n. He guessed that Windy used to belong to y/n. He had once saw a photo of y/n and a white puppy tucked in her wallet when she was paying for coffee. Y/n never talked about it and Sam never asked. He decided he was still going to be silent about it today. He wouldn’t want to force her to narrate whatever tragic event that had happened in the past again, knowing that she probably had already done it to herself over and over again in her brain upon seeing the loss of Huxley.

Sam mulled over his words. Platitudes like “you have already done your best” sounded superfluous. Y/n, and he believes that everyone at the shelter, did everything they could; but that doesn’t fix things, does it?

“Was he loved when he was gone?” Sam gently took y/n’s hand in his.

“I was too coward to stay until the last moment,” y/n looked at Sam through teary eyes, “and he couldn’t really stomach any food by then. But yes, we made sure he was surrounded by treats and toys.”

“Then that’s what matters,” Sam managed a smile and said softly. “Dogs are very grateful creatures, you know that. Now that Huxley has crossed the rainbow bridge, he must be thanking you for loving him to the end, to provide him with a warm bed so he didn’t have to go alone and scared on the side of some highway.”

Y/n’s was still hiding her face in her palms, with her elbows resting on her knees, but Sam recognized a trembling nod from her. Now he felt tears stinging in his own eyes. He rubbed the area between y/n’s shoulder blades and carefully opened his mouth: “Look, y/n. I don’t want to sound like I’m taking advantage of the situation. But I am really worried about leaving you alone for the night like this. Would you like to perhaps crash at my place for the night? Rosie can keep you company.”

“Let me take care of you.” Sam closed his eyes for a second before he added, “As a friend?”

To his relief, y/n nodded again before turning her head slightly to face him, revealing half of her face, all wrinkled with red marks and tear stains, her eyes bloodshot and glassy.

“Sorry for being a bother.” She whispered through quivering lips.

“Never. Never a bother, mama,” Sam’s heart clenched again, hard. He reached out and gently squeezed the back of y/n’s neck before starting the car. “I got you.”

Y/n could hear Rosie’s claws clacking on the wooden floor before Sam turned the key in the lock. As he opened the door, they are welcomed by an excited Rosie, just as expected. Sam had taught Rosie well not to bolt towards guests or jump on them, so she was expressing her joy through a wagging tail that put her whole body into motion and repeated bowing; her pink tongue sticking out of the side of her mouth. The goofy gestures raised a chuckle out of y/n. The first smile that he had seen on her face all night.

Sam’s apartment is cozy and vibrant. It has rustic brick walls and exposed beams. A red oriental rug lies in the middle of the room in front of a light camel-coloured sofa. There are touches here and there where Sam lets his intrusive thoughts win—so a piece of decor that does not match the general style appears but ends up working nonetheless, such as the banana leaf wall paper that only covers one side of the wall. A long-neck floor lamp throws warm glow over half of the living room.

“Go sit, y/n. Make yourself at home. You want some tea?” Sam laid out a pair of slippers for her as he asked.

Y/n had half a heart to reject out of politeness but realized she was too tired to put on any facade, and it is unnecessary after all considering she had just bawled her eyes out before Sam. Her eyes were stinging from crying and her face must have looked like a mess now.

“Thank you. Can I borrow the bathroom, please?”

“Of course! It’s right there.” Sam pointed her the right door.

Closing the door behind her, y/n felt like her legs were about to gave out. She sat down on the closed toilet lid and closed her eyes, thoughts swarming in her mind. Now that the initial throbbing pain in her chest has subsided, she began interrogating herself. What was it that made her agree to stay here overnight? “Worry about leaving you alone”….You are used to being alone—heck, you have been for years. All the past experiences and rational judgements were reprimanding her in a motherly tone with a scowl, but her body was faithful to the ghostly touches and phantom breaths that he had left on her skin during their hug. She forgot when was the last time that she had received a hug that conveyed such empathy without blind assumption. She forgot when was the last time that she felt valid for her feeling sad and mourning. She forgot when was the last time that she was not forced to explain. Yet Sam came and reset the record for her.

Three gentle knocks on the door interrupted her thoughts.

“Yes?”

“I grabbed you a clean towel. I’m putting it on the handle, so just watch it when you open the door.” Sam’s voice came from the other side of the door.

Oh Sammy, Y/n thought to herself with a wry smile. The nickname naturally slips into her mind. This is not helping.

What it is about this man that makes you trust him enough to break down in front of him and then agree to stay at his place overnight? Was it because he was nice to dogs? Green flag. Nice hair and clean nails, perfect side profiled, chiseled like an Apollo statue? Green flag. Top tier banter and flirting? Beige flag (but has potential).

Her brain started hurting again. Her heart said fuck it, go wipe your face, drink tea, and pray that he’s not a patient serial killer three months in disguise who likes to collect dog memes. Y/n opened her eyes and the first thing she saw brought an untimely giggle out of her.

Toilet paper hanging from under? Red flag.

When y/n opened the bathroom door again, Sam was feeding Rose her dinner.

“There you are! Thought you fell in.” Sam looked up at her with a toothy grin.“Sorry,” he apologized for his joke before y/n even said anything. “I made you tea, I guess you haven’t eat yet? I can order takeout or whip something up real quick.”

“That’s very nice of you, Sam. But I really don’t think I can handle a meal right now. Tea will be just fine for me. Thank you.”

Y/n must have washed her face in the washroom. Now her face looked fresh, setting off her reddish nose which she rubbed a little too harshly. The bags under her swollen eyes made her looks droopy, much different from the energetic y/n under the sun in the park. She looked very….huggable.

Y/n took a sip from the mug Sam handed her. It’s lavender tea. She felt her nerves slowly stretched as the warm liquid slid into her stomach. Having finished her dinner, Rose wasted no time joining them on the sofa. She found the perfect spot between Sam and y/n, laying her head on her folded paws.

“Do you want to watch a movie or something?”

“Um-hmm,” y/n absent-mindedly hummed. “You take the pick.”

Absolutely nothing furry, nothing barking, nothing wagging its tail. Sam scrolled through the catalogue.

Y/n raised her eyebrows when she saw Sam finally settling on Vanderpump Rules.

“Surprised?”

“Surprised, amused, guilty as charged.” Y/n admitted.

“No way! Which season are you on?”

“Seven? I can’t remember much though.”

Sam couldn’t deny it, there’s just something about watching and becoming invested in other people’s cheating drama that gets you to forget about your own problems real fast, at least temporarily. When one of the girls made an especially spiteful comment and Sam got no reaction from y/n, he turned and saw her dozing off, her chin rested on her clavicle, one hand still resting on Rose’s back.

She’s bound to get a stiff neck sleeping that way. Sam gently pulled her shoulder to the side, resting her head on a cushion, and pulled the blanket over her. Other than making a few indistinguishable murmur, she didn’t stir; or if she did, she chose to relent to Sam’s touch. Now that her eyes were closed, she looked peaceful under the orange light of the lamp, one almost couldn’t tell she was crying so hard a few hours ago. Sam debated if he should carry her to the bedroom or at least wake her up, but in the end, he did neither. Instead, he sat down on the carpet, his side pressed against the sofa, putting his head on his elbow.

Whatever this is, it fels tranquil and nice. She is close and far, her silence remote and candid, still as a star*. It feels like love. He feels his heart heavy with love. She doesn’t know. Maybe she will, eventually. But not now. Now he just wants to have this moment, in case it is all he will ever have.

Y/n is woken up by the wetness of her face. “Rose, stop!” She managed to open her eyes under Rose’s kiss attack. She propped herself up on her elbow and saw Sam sitting on the floor next to her, still asleep. But that changed quickly as he became Rose’s next target. Did he just sleep all night like this? The light seeping through the curtains formed bright patters on the floor. Gosh, she must be really tired to sleep so soundly on the sofa.

“Morning.” Y/n pursed her lips, containing a chuckle as she met gaze with a hair-disheveled Sam, who was holding the side of his neck, grimacing.

Sam felt every single bone in his body crackling as he stood up. Actions have consequences.

The drive back to Y/n’s house was quiet. Y/n thanked him for letting her stay overnight, which he insisted that was no big deal. Then he cranked up the radio and let Stephen Stills take over.

“Thank—-”

“I swear, if you thank me again—-”

They almost said together as the car pulled up to a halt in front of y/n’s apartment.

Y/n smiled apologetically nonetheless.

“Hey, like I said, it’s really no big deal. It wasn’t so courteous of me not to offer you dinner and let you sleep on the couch anyway,” Sam said. “I am very sorry about what has happened. I hope you are feeling better now.”

Y/n chewed on her bottom lip and nodded. It was after several heartbeats that she said, “You know, your bathroom walls are dirty, Kiszka.”

Sam blinked and then barked out a laugh, throwing his hands in surrender. “Guilty as charged.”

“Call me if you need anything, yeah?” Sam watched as y/n unbuckled the seatbelt. He could tell that for a second, y/n was going to thank him again.

“I’m not guilt tripping you into this, but…the offer to co-dog walk always stands.”

“Sure. I’ll let you know.”

“Oh, and one more thing,” Y/n paused as she shut the door.

“Hug Rosie extra tight for me.” With that, she turned on her heels and walked away.

It was three days later that they met again at the park. The weather was starting to get cold. Sam would always choose the vivifying spring days over fall, but he also appreciates some delicious crunching of the leaves as one walks.

“I can really tell the season is changing when the benches feel a bit cold under the tush.” Sam commented as he sat down next to y/n.

“Oh, do we have to get you padded pants then?”

“Seriously, do they make those?” Sam gasped in feigned surprise. “Anyways, how’s your car?”

“I got a call yesterday, it should be ready to pick up by Thursday,” Y/n said. She was chewing on the edge of her coffee cup. “I feel so stupid losing it like that the other day.”

“But you don’t have to, though. There’s nothing wrong about feeling things, and emotions don’t lie.”

“Yeah, I guess. But in the end it’s not about me, it’s about them. There’s always more dogs that need help and always more to do.”

“I know you said not to, but I really need to,” y/n said as she turned to Sam and threw her arms around him, catching him in surprise. “Thank you, Sammy.”

Sam couldn’t help but notice how nice it felt to have her nose buried in his shoulder. Talking about emotions don’t lie.

His hair smells nice too. And it is indeed so, so soft. Green flag.

Somehow, they fell back into the old rhythm after that. Sam guessed that when people say woman in a dream, they must be referring to their phantasmagoric nature. With each day passing, he became more and more inclined to believe that what he thought he had was nothing more than wishful thinking and self-deception.

Christmas was approaching. Their brother’s lack of contribution to the holiday preparation did not go unnoticed by the twins. Jake was first to approach Sam, saving Josh as the last resort. Although Jake doubted if they would really need him.

“Sammy boy, what are you sulking about?” Jake sat down next to Sam, who was lying facedown on the carpet.

“M’not sulking,” Sam mumbled. “You just interrupted my perfect nap.”

“No shit, wonder if you can even breathe lying like that.” Jake nudged him in the ribs, earning himself a smack on the arm.

“Have you asked her out yet?”

“Who?”

“Quit playing with me, brother. You’ve been spending enough time at the shelter and the park that we thought Rosie was going to the big sis this time.”

Sam flipped over with a groan, his hand laying across his forehead. “No. I think she probably doesn’t feel that way, honestly.”

“Okay,” Jake rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “But how do you feel? Really smitten?”

“I don’t know,” Sam sighed. “You know the trend that goes, ‘one minute you are asking for her number, the next minute you are getting screamed at by her cat’? When I asked for her number, I was hoping so bad that we will be making advent calendar for our dogs every year.”

“Damn.” For a moment, Jake was struck by the weight of that statement; its authenticity and spontaneity echoed in the air.

“You really got some of Josh’s romantic shit, huh?”

“Don’t act like you haven’,.” Sam rolled his eyes. Jake couldn’t argue with that.

“Look, I knew you will tell her eventually. Come on, don’t give me that look. We both know that you will. But this is not like some assignment where you can just keep putting off until all the points have been abducted.”

“You have my permission to take the day off. But you better be making it up to me once you’ve got her. Do you have any idea how painful it is to untangle four strands of those lights? My fingers deserve better than that.”

Sam shot his elder brother a plaintive look. Jake raised his eyebrows provocatively, but the genuine encouragement still shone through.

“Just get your ass up already, kid.”

Sam was going to see y/n that day anyway. The shelter was doing Christmas dinner for the animals and y/n had texted him earlier asking if he wanted to come help. The shelter around Christmas looked like a kindergarten. Garlands and ribbons hung from the ceiling. Cheerful Christmas carols played through the announcement speakers. Even the bulletin board were updated with the animals’ intake pictures with their new Christmas photoshoots.

“Y/n is at the big dog kennel in the back.”

The round-faced woman at the front desk warmly greeted Sam as she recognized him. He had been a regular; the staff had naturally associated him with y/n and had been secretly calling him the sexy Tarzan*. (Y/n burst out laughing when she first heard that nickname; she couldn’t deny the resemblance is uncanny.)

Sam wasn’t sure how he was going to do this. Yes, he was going to wing it but it’s not like he could just blurt it out. The place started to smell like food as Sam passed the reception area. He found y/n and her colleagues standing in the meet-and-greet area around a table full of buckets and a crock pot with the largest turkey he had ever seen. Y/n waved him in as she saw him.

“Thanks for coming! We’re about to start.” Y/n handed him an apron.

“There are separate bucket for veggies, meat, and broth. You just grab some from each into the bowl and pass it down, Sally and Theo will squeeze in the yogurt and puree, add the dry treats…and a bowl is done!” Y/n walked him around the table as they went through each step.

“This feels like I’m at a poke station.” Sam chuckled.

“It is, special Christmas edition.”

Suddenly, Sam felt more at ease. He was grateful that y/n volunteers at the shelter. It’s at least comforting to think that he would have nearly a hundred flurry friends as his wingman.

They walked down the corridor, stopping at each kennel, opening the door and sliding in the bowl. Some dogs were more timid and nervous, huddling in the corner and coming up to the food when they were left alone. Y/n made sure to skip those ones a few more beef jerky. But most of them were already wagging their tails like windshield wipers in heavy rain, waiting impatiently at the front of their kennel.

It took them nearly an hour going through the whole the dog area before the empty cart was wheeled back to the preparation room.

“They have special food for the smaller animals like the rabbits as well. But, by far, our job here is completed. Well done, soldier!” Y/n untied her apron and threw in onto the table.

“Are you doing anything after?” Y/n asked.

“No, not really. Why?” Upon hearing that question, hope and anxiety bubbled together in Sam’s stomach.

“I could treat you to a coffee for helping out today, or perhaps hot chocolate?”

“Hot chocolate sounds great.”

“Awesome, you’re in for a treat. I know a place that makes bomb hot cocoa.”

It was snowing heavily when they stepped out. The ground is already covered in a thin white layer. The snow was coming down thick and fast, Sam could hear it falling onto the crisp fabric of his jacket. They walked along the side road. The sky was already dark, making the snowflakes dancing under the streetlights all the more obvious. The cars passing by, their tires rolling over the splashing snow, made sounds like someone stirring the repeatedly pushing the buttons of a a fountain drink machine. As nice as it was, Sam soon realized his mistake of forgetting to wear gloves when he headed out. It was strange how he seldom felt cold amid the big snowfalls, it’s always the coldest the day before. It was always the build up.

“So….do you have any plans for Christmas?”

“Oh, yeah I do. I am going to this awesome party. I'm going to dance, have fun, raid the charcuterie board, get shit-face drunk, and then crawl back home. Giving the weather we are having now, I’m probably going to slip and fall, break my face on the sidewalk, and lay there unconsciously until some hobo finds me and steals my purse, but all he is going to find are handfuls of puke that I threw up earlier,” y/n finished with a mischievous smile. “How does that sound?”

Sam was speechless for a few seconds. “I’m only with you on the ‘raiding the charcuterie board’ part.” He finally said.

“Always appreciate a good humour, Kiszka.”Y/n threw back her head and laughed. “I’m messing with you. Quite the opposite, I’m doing nothing. Probably still going to drink, but definitely no party.” She made a stank face.

Y/n has mentioned that she had just moved here not long ago. Sam never heard her mentioning much about her family, and he did not want to blindly assume.

“Do you want to come to mine for Christmas?”

“Crashing your family gathering as a stranger? That doesn’t sound like a very courteous thing to do.” Y/n replied.

Sam tried to focus his sight on the tip of his shoes. Just say it already. He was suddenly afraid to look to y/n. It feels better just to hear the rejection, not to face it head on, right? And could they still have hot chocolate after this? He could really use one now.

“Well, wouldn’t be weird if you were going as my girlfriend,” he finally said.

It was taking everything in Sam to hold his gaze on y/n. He saw her head shot right up. Beneath the initial shock, Sam couldn’t quite figure out the emotion hiding in her eyes. It’s always the build up. Always the build up. But now that the cat is out of the bag, he might as well just spill it out.

“I think I really like you, y/n.”

A smile crept up onto the corner of y/n’s mouth, and Sam saw it grew to a grin.

“Are you cold?” she asked.

“Hum?” That was not what he was expecting. But he appreciated a question, any question, to redirect the attention from the….previous embarrassment.

“Did you forget your gloves?” It was only then that Sam realized that he has subconsciously managed to snake his hands into the opposite sleeves of his jacket and fold his arms in front of his chest in order to warm up his hands.

“Yes, and my fingers are freezing off,” he said through gritted teeth. “And I am dying of suspense and embarrassment.”

Unexpectedly, y/n sighed and took off one of her own gloves. “There’s no need to feel embarrassed,” she said as she pried Sam’s right hand out of his sleeve and delicately stuck his stiff fingers into the glove, as if caring for newborn ducklings.

“It feels kind of good to see even Mr. ‘beat-me-in-every-banter’ at a loss for witty comments when it comes to feelings. Just proves we’re all human, doesn’t it?” She then took Sam’s other hand into her own and placed them into the pocket of her coat.

“There. See how much better it is if we simply express ourselves?”

Sam could feel y/n’s thumb brushing his numb muscles. “I may not be the best person to lecture you on this because, well, I myself have done a pretty lousy job at it too. But, I can try to improve, as your girlfriend.”

“Can you give me the chance to try?”

Oh god, now she’s asking me.

“My honour, y/n,” Sam felt like he could breathe again. And his quick wit returned. “One thing is not true though.”

“What?” Y/n asked as they continued to walk.

“I didn’t beat you to every banter. I lost in the toilet paper one.”

Y/n raised her eyebrows in amusement.

“I guess you were right. I called a truce with my bathroom ghost the other day.”

A man who is not afraid to confess his feelings and admit when he is wrong? Green flag.

Easter Egg

Y/n did end up attending the Kiszka’s Christmas gathering as Sam’s girlfriend. Jake was smug about it the whole time (“Told you we don’t need Josh”.) He determined that Sam owed him big time and demanded that he repays him by taking down the Christmas tree and and moving it up to the attic after the holidays are over.

Of all, Rose was more than thrilled to have her over because y/n came bearing special gift for her.

“I brought dog beer.” Y/n said proudly.

“You brought what?”

“Dog beer!” y/n laughed, showing the package of four cans. “It’s just unsalted bone broth with oat and barley.”

“Shame on you for leading Rose bug down this dangerous path!” Sam pretended to be annoyed but was already reaching for Rose’s water bowl.

“Come on, Rose’s a good girl, she can handle it. Plus, she is under parental supervision.” y/n said as she popped open a can.

“Oh, is that what we are now, ‘mummy’? Dog parents?” Sam looked smug.

As Rose happily lapped up her new beverage, y/n affectionately patted her on the neck: “And you always remember, Rosie girl, beers over boys. Well, I guess your daddy can make an exception but… ‘a healthy amount of beer over any contact with boys*’”.

*1: adapted from I Like For You To Be Still by Pablo Neruda

*2: it is from here (once you see it, you can't unsee it lol

*3: a quote from one of my favourite Youtuber: Christines Snaps

Hey, you've made it!! thank you so much for reading!

here's something more I want to say.

Firstly, the two dogs mentioned are real dogs; sadly they have both crossed the rainbow bridge now. You can read more about them here: Klaus and Huxley. I changed Klaus' story here because I'd like to imagine that having pup cups, going on walks, and having fun with other dogs is the life that he should have been having before his life was unfairly taken away. And I want to honour Huxley. The inspiration for this piece came to me because I relay information for shelter dogs that are listed to be euthanized in high kill shelters. It is absolutely heartbreaking to see how many healthy dogs lose their life at no fault of their own. I have always believed in the power of writing; I myself have been healed by the writings of others in this community many times, and I would like to do something with my writing too. I hope to raise awareness through this piece: There are just too many homeless pups. Please spay and neuter- their lives depend on it; and if you ever want a pet, please always go to the local shelter and check out their euth-list. Saving one dog is not going to change the world, but for that dog, the world is changed forever.

Secondly, about the writing; this is my first time writing Sam and my longest piece. As many of you surely must have noticed there are some loose ends, I apologize. I was emotional while writing this and I dragged it out. Plus, I made the mistake of reading one of the most amazing fanfics ever while writing this. I became self-conscious and kind of defeated---emotions get in the way, so I think this is leaning more towards a cathartic experience. For those that have experienced the pet loss, I am sorry and I feel for you. Please know that they can always feel your love and you will meet one day at the rainbow bridge. I intend to dig into this piece further in the future: perhaps make some more changes and edits, perhaps writing some blurbs between this y/n and Sam. If you would like that, please let me know.

Lastly, sincerely thank you to @dannythedog for the gvf secret santa event. It may sound stupid but that event carried me through my finals and several mental breakdowns. It has not only helped me to connect with so many wonderful people in this fandom, but it has also encouraged me to write. I never would have thought picking up writing again would give me so much closure and comfort. Plus, she did an awesome pairing; I got one of my favourite writers here as my secret santa!! and I got to know Nina.

This is so much longer than I intended. If you have made it here, wow, I am giving you a big big hug. Thank you to everyone who takes the time to read my writings. I hope that there are many more to come.

More of my writings: Mariner's Complex || Permission to Fall || Ticked (all my boxes) || The Lucky Ones

(do we want a masterlist or a taglist? let me know :))

#greta van fleet fan fiction #sam kiszka x reader #sam kiszka fluff #gvf fluff #gvf fanfiction #greta van fleet fic #sam kiszka fic #gvf #sammy gvf

29 notes · View notes

wink-1-8-2 · 1 year

Text

Superstitions/Customs in the desert:

There's a superstition in the desert that you can never have more than one clock at the same time in the desert. There are several clocks in the Diner, and they all have different times on them (it's not like anyone knows which one's right anyway)

On the longest night of the year, 'joys leave raven feathers (that magically appear near the mailbox) on doorsteps, as a small gesture of love for the lonely in the desert. Prayer beads are gifted to loved ones, to try and get through the night, and the desert is watched warily, through wide-eyes. Sleep doesn't seem to be an option.

Similarly, on the longest day of the year, the sands in the desert are streaked with vibrant colours and fruit, and whether it's 'joys who do it, or the Witch, no one knows. It's a huge day for celebration, and most Zonerunners let go of grudges and fighting for a day. Sometimes it even rains.

Giving someone a dyed lace signifies romantic attraction, and love, while tying a black or white laces around someone's possession or door frame signifies an omen of death or revenge. You should hit the red lines if you get an uncoloured piece of lace. If a 'joy receives a colourful piece of lace, though, they'll signify their feelings by wearing the piece of last around their thigh or their bicep. Often, these laces are woven into commitment bands several years later.

Love for a crew or family is signified through many things, though a popular custom includes giving family a piece of china, creating bracelets out of soda tabs, or even giving a piece of fabric to a loved one- different colours and designs signify different things (e.g. yellow or green or red soda tabs/fabrics signify blood-relations, while purple flowers signify friendships. The Four all have bracelets made from little purple flowers that were forged from different soda tabs, and Poison and Kobra each have a piece of fabric from each other in yellow, Poison's got theirs wrapped around their calf, Kobra wears his as a bandana).

Like during the Dust Bowl in the 1930s, some 'joys will cut open the stomachs of dead snakes and hang them by their necks, during droughts or bad weather.

Photographs are a shockingly valuable thing to have, if they're from before the Bombs. Several photographs are stung out and hung up around homes and baby-cribs as a way of protection, like all the ghosts of the people smiling in the photos will project the place from harm. It's a way of honouring the dead, keeping a photograph and trying not to let the sun ruin it, through any means necessary. The Witch receives many of these photos, and similarly, they are handed down to younger crewmates (The Girl got a lot of these photographs). Photographs are also a way of escapism, and 'joys will pretend that things aren't so bad, pretend that they know and love these strangers to ignore the outside world for a while.

It is customary to get a tattoo or something permanent for crewmates after a couple of years. Often, 'joys get their crewmates' symbols, or small messages scrawled out (messily, mostly) on their skin. Often, crewmates design the tattoos themselves. As well as that, if a crewmate dies, it's possible that the tattoo will fade, or turn a different colour, as a message from the Witch. Separating completely from a crew means the ink will fade, and the tattoo will scar, though many people still have ex-crewmates' tattoos - a signal that a 'joy has not moved on.

#this was literally so much fun to write #ill probably add more #feel free to add more <3333 #danger days #headcanon #danger days hcs #danger days are not mcr #fun ghoul #party poison #kobra kid #jet star #ngl you guys - i did not edit this at all #sorry if its chunky or makes too little sense #BUT i really enjoyed this!!!#my lil contribution to zones cultures lol #might add a part two idk

149 notes · View notes

milf-harrington · 2 years

Text

[image description: a digital sketch, done in grey-scale of Steve, Robin, Eddie and Nancy from Stranger Things, standing in that order.

Steve is standing casually with his hands in the pockets of his jacket, he's facing forward but his eyes are looking to the side. He looks like he doesn't care about being there, and he's wearing light coloured jeans that are cuffed with a striped polo shirt tucked into them.

Robin has her elbow on his shoulder, leaning on him with one of her legs crossed in front of the other. She's looking at him with a small smile, and she's wearing similar jeans with a striped button up tucked into them. Her shirt is unbuttoned just enough to see the top of the shirt underneath, and she's wearing two short necklaces.

Eddie's standing sideways to the viewer, facing to the right with his back to Robin. He's got his head turned to smile at the viewer, leaning back to counterbalance the two boxes he's holding in his arms. The boxes are labelled 'sound' and 'rec room' in capital letters. He's wearing tight black jeans, black boots and a white shirt with black elbow-length sleeves. He has a black bandana in his pocket, and a pants chain hanging from his hip. His hair is a bit messy and falling down his back.

Nancy is also standing sideways to the viewer, but she's facing Eddie with her head turned to smile at the viewer. She's got her hands behind her back and one heel lifted slightly. She's wearing a short-sleeved blouse with bell sleeves and a long skirt that looks like it's been caught in a breeze, billowing in front of her. She's wearing socks with laces along the hem.

each of them has their name written in capital letters beside them.

/end id.]

---

this is technically a doodle for a dirty dancing au but considering both are set in the 80's it also works just as well in-verse so i offer my first drawing in like. a month: the fruity four

#stranger things #stranger things fanart #god i love getting to type that tag #LOVED drawing these guys btw #steve harrington #robin buckley #eddie munson #nancy wheeler #stranger things season 4 #stranger things s4 #my art #technically:#stranger things dirty dancing au #i might end up having two (a ronance once and a steddie one) and im either gonna chuck them both under the same tag #or come up w a separate title for each #i'll probably just throw them under the same tag tbh im lazt #lazy #described

451 notes · View notes

soft-for-them · 1 year

Text

Godmothers - Rika x plus size reader

Summary: Both Rika and you are Poppy's godmothers and Rika is developing a small crush on you.

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated and help more people read my works.

A/N: Rika is a butch lesbian, that's how I'm writing her. I've not specified if she's mtf, trans masc or nonbinary so go wild with your headcanons.

“Come on kiddo-“ you say tiredly as you stand at the entrance of the Elite Four, a small blue kid’s backpack slung around your shoulder and a book bag in your hand, “- Poppy come on! Your dinner will be cold at this rate.”

Poppy, your god-daughter and little terror, takes her time saying goodbye to the Elite Four members, her cheery little face bringing out a small smile on your face. First she high fives Hassle, followed by hugging the legs of Larry (who, despite looking put off, actually pats her head back) and finally she bounds up to Rika, her other godmother, and begging to be picked up to be hugged which Rika does.

You look up to your Dragonite, who unlike other Dragonites towers above you, the bandana around his neck actually a giant picnic blanket. You pat the orange dragon on his leg, reassuring him that it’s almost home time.

“Poppy-“ you begin before the bright face of your god-daughter pops up in front of you, startling you and your dear Pokémon, a muttered expletive falling out your mouth.

“-I’m ready (y/n)!” she cheers, her small hand wrapping around two of your fingers, ready to hop on Dragonite to fly back home to Montenevera.

“Have you got everything?” you automatically ask.

“Yes!” she cheers.

“You sure?”

“One hundred percent positive.” she beams.

“Ok, we have to go home quick, Greavard and Klefki are watching the soup on the stove-“

“-SOUP!” she cheers as you lift her up onto Dragonite, her small little arms hugging the dragon ‘hello’.

“Yes, soup and some cheese on toast.”

Before you hop on to Dragonite you look back to see Rika standing there. Larry and Hassel have already gone back in and like usual Geeta is nowhere to be found.

You give a small wave to Rika.

For a moment you think you see a flush of red take over Rika’s face but you put it up to being outside in the cold weather with the sleeves of her shirt rolled up.

You jump onto Dragonite and wave some more to Rika, Poppy following suit with both of her small hand franticly waving back to her other godmother. You hold on to Poppy so she does not fall and command Dragonite to take you both home.

Dinner has long been eaten, the whole of your little house shrouded in the dying light of day, the frost on the windows melting for it’s so warm inside. You quickly get dressed in a baggy t-shirt with a flaking print of the Pokecentre logo on it along with a pair of flannel pyjama bottoms. You help Poppy into the thick and warm nightdress the colour of steel, her blue hair already sticking up from taking off her bonnet.

“Ok, time to brush teeth.” you say as you brush her cowlicks down with a licked thumb, her little rosy face contorting into a look of disgust.

“Stop! I don’t want you germs!” she squeals as she runs out your grasp up to the cupboard under the bathroom sink that houses a little green step stool underneath.

You stand back up with a smile on your face. You never thought that you’d ever become a mother figure to someone, let alone did you ever think your best friend would leave her daughter in your care but you’ve been raising Poppy for two years now and you really can’t see a life without her.

“(Y/n)!” she calls. You look over to her to see she’s dragged the stool over to the sink herself and is now standing on top of it, a blue light up toothbrush in hand ready for you to put some toothpaste on it for Poppy still cannot squeeze the toothpaste tube without it exploding.

“Yes, yes, coming.” you jog over and grab you own brush, squeezing pea size blobs of bubble gum flavoured toothpaste on each of your brushes, “Remember, circular motions.”

Standing in front of the same mirror the two of you brush your teeth, Poppy focusing all her might into bushing circular on each tooth.

Surrounded by all Poppy’s pokémon you tuck her in, the thick duvet right up to her chin as she nods away almost asleep.

“(Y/n).” she mutters as Copperajah lays their trunk on the bed for her to grab, Bronzong and Magnezone humming quietly, Corviknight being chased by Tinkaton. You call out Tinkaton who stops chasing Corviknight and huffs over to Poppy’s double bed, both steel type pokémon cuddling into either side of the little girl.

“Can you tell me a story?” Poppy asks as you sit on the side of the plush bed, your hand patting Copperajah’s trunk.

“Sure, what do you want me to read?”

“No reading, from head.” she mutters as she sinks down in the covers, her eyes fighting to stay open.

“I don’t have any good stories.” you mutter whilst trying to think up a child friendly story to tell her.

You could just recite a children’s fairy tale to her from the top of your head but you quickly scrap that idea for you know she’ll catch on to it pretty quickly and tell you to read something else. Maybe you could make up a story, mash two Aesop stories together and hope she doesn’t realise that you have no clue what you’re on about.

“Um…” you pause, “…do you know about Giratina?”

Crossing you fingers she doesn’t know the legend of the Giratina.

“No-“ she yawns a big over the top yawn, “-tell me!”

So you do and before you can even get to the parts where Dialga and Palkia appear she is fast asleep.

You hitch up the little girl cuddling into your back, her arms wrapped around your neck like a padlock, a thick blanket covering her from the night’s cold wind.

Your pokémon Dragonite, Klefki and Greavard are out their pokeballs for they were tucked up in bed with you before Poppy woke up crying. They crowd around you making sure that Poppy doesn’t burst out crying again. Klefki, ever the sweetheart bobs up and down near Poppy’s face making little clinking noises that makes the small child giggle between sniffs whilst Greavard lights the small walk from where Dragonite landed to the elite four.

Not caring that it’s too late at night to be doing this, you buzz the doorbell of the elite four followed by knocking on the door with your spare hand.

You wait there for over ten minutes consoling the devastated Poppy whilst trying to lock pick the door with Klefki only for a side door to open, well an emergency exit opens, and a tired looking Rika to pokes her head out.

Before she can even begin reprimanding whoever has woken her up (for she certainly was not asleep at her desk, no she was not) she sees you lot and pauses.

Poppy clings to your raggedy t-shirt, her little fists clenching so hard that the t-shirt rides up showing the soft curved but goose bumped skin of your belly, a knitted blanket hanging down like a cape, only Poppy’s hands and head poking out from underneath.

“Do you have her teddy bear?” you yell out as Poppy clutches at you more.

Rika blinks, her eyes blurry from just waking up (oh, and the lack of glasses).

“What?” she says as she leans out the exit, trying to keep the door open with her foot so it doesn’t close on her.

“Teddiursa-“ you hike Poppy back up before walking over to Rika, “-her teddy Teddiursa, the one that used to be a keyring.”

Rika moves her eyes off your round pretty face towards her god-daughter only to be met with little sniffles and watery eyes.

“Ok, ok, I’ll go and find it.” she turns to look at you once more, pausing too long for it not to be weird, “One moment.”

The exit door slams shut as you stand there, your slippers getting a bit soggy and Poppy still sniffling on your back.

“Hey Pops, it’s ok. Rika knows where Teddy is.” you coo to the small child who grips onto you harder.

“But *sniff* what if-if she can’t *sniff*-“

You tilt you head back to see big fat tears begin to reform in her wide eyes, her small hands covered by long sleeves rubbing at her face.

“Hey, hey,hey-“ you say as you meticulously bring the little girl around so she’s now clinging to your front and not your back, “-you’re ok Poppy, Rika is just coming back right now.”

And like you have predictive powers Rika, still sans tie but now with her glasses on, rushes out the exit door with a certain Teddy in hand.

“Poppy look what Rika found!” you smile and point to the bear as Rika stops close to you.

Poppy turns a teary face to Rika, her eyes going wide like dinner plates, her hands grabbing thin air for the bear. The stuffed Teddiursa is small and raggedy, a safety eye missing and the hole where it once was sewn up by you, the fuzzy fur matted and old, despite all this it’s Poppy’s favourite toy.

Poppy cuddles the small bear with all her strength, your arms wrapping around her tightly so she doesn’t fall backwards from the forceful hug.

You mouth a ‘thank you’ to Rika as Poppy begins to nod off asleep in your arms.

Rika watches you carefully hold her daughter- wait, god-daughter – tightly. You and your pokémon hop onto Dragonite and fly away.

Her face is flushed red and the exit to the elite for is firmly closed.

“Geeta!” Rika looks at her ex-girlfriend with wide eyes, “I can’t have these feelings.”

Geeta rigidly pats Rika on the back trying to comfort the elite four member resumes banging her head on the desk.

“You can have whatever feelings you like… as long as it doesn’t mess with you work.”

A distorted kind of ‘ahhhh’ sound escapes Rika.

This big crush of hers is going to get her fired.

#not proof read #pokemon #pokemon scarlet and violet #pokemon scarlet #pokemon violet #pokemon x reader #pokemon scarlet x reader #pokemon violet x reader #rika pokemon #rika x reader #plus size reader #x plus size reader #chubby reader #x chubby reader #x female reader #female reader

389 notes · View notes

trippygalaxy · 1 year

Note

Hello! Mind if I submit a request? Your Warriors one turned out so well!

As far as gift-giving for each of the chain goes, what kinds of things do you think they'd like to receive?

(Also--and you can totally say no to this--could I write shorts based off of yours answers? I'm genuinely curious as to what you'd think, and I've hit writers block currently for the requests I have in my own inbox 😓)

You're doing great, by the way!!

Courage and Gifts

OMG YES! Love this idea and you can totally write something based off this!!!

(Edit: HOLY SHIT! This took longer than expected! I struggled so much with Four and Legend so I'm sorry if those ones are out of character!)

Requests: Open!

Time

Joke Gifts!

Time has a secret appreciation for gag gifts but will NEVER admit it out loud unless he wants the boys to constantly give him walking canes or the medieval equivalent to Werther's Originals. But nevertheless, he does appreciate the gift/joke when he's out of sight.

Oh, please give him a pun book. His eye(s) will light up when he realizes what it is, but be prepared cause he isn't gonna shut up any time soon.

Ocarina

A new ocarina and new memories. He won't admit it but he chest does get tight at the sight of it, but his heart flutters in the same beat. He's gentle as he takes it into his hands, admiring the wooden instrument in it's construction. Now, he is more used to the 12 holed ocarina but isn't against learning how to use other kinds of ocarinas, magical or not.

Warriors

Bouquet of Flowers

Such a soft and beautiful gift will warm his heart! Being so used to the harsh memories of wars and death, the sight of the beautiful bouquet makes him stutter for a moment. It takes a second for him to register that this is for him. The delicate petals, the vibrant colours, they contrast the bloodied swords and shields. It's....nice.

Earrings

Warriors strikes me as someone who has a collection of earrings. Now, seeing as he is a Captain he can't carry such things around with him. It not because he's embarrassed or ashamed (quite the opposite actually), it's simply a safety hazard and would take up more room than necessary. So he keeps such things in his quarters back home, which means he has had the same simply earrings in for months.

So, its easy to say he got excited when he opened the small box he was handed and saw what was inside. He'll put them in immediately and practically prance around camp!

Twilight

Handmade Blankets

Twilight grew up in a small village, so gifts like this aren't unfamiliar! Most of his blankets back home were gifts to him, so being given a similar gift fills him with nostalgia! He melts even more if he was given the thick woven blanket because the gifter was concerned he gets cold. (Tbh he's probably a living furnace but it's still nice!)

Bandana

At first he's very confused at the gift but still appreciated it! It was a lovely green that went well with his armor and tunics. And as he tied it around his neck, it fit perfectly! It wasn't too tight or loose and it didn't bother his neck. As much as Twilight enjoys the gift he can't help but be confused...and a little suspicious.

He continued to fiddle with the bandana even when you made a hasty retreat. Suddenly, he fingertips ran across something that stuck off from the fabric. Twilight gives a light tug and pulls off the bandana to get a closer look only to find a tag. At a closer look he notices the brand on the tag.

It was a fucking dog brand bandana.

Sky

New Wood Carving Tools

A new set of carving tools would mean a lot to him! I'd like to think that he has two sets that he owns, a very well made set that is back at Skyloft and one decent set that he carries on him at all time. The ones on him have seen almost as much as he has, and have been chipped beyond repair. BUT to be gifted with brand new tools that beat any tools he had at home is truly baffling!

Plushie

Something soft, tiny and comfortable to sleep with?! SIGN HIM UP! The soft fabric, the cute aesthetic and thoughtfulness! He loves it and couldn't be more happy, and if you sewn it yourself? DOUBLE LOVE!! He doesn't care what the others have to say, he is holding that plushie to his chest every damn night! Bonus points if it is a loftwing and bonus bonus points if its red!

Wild

Recipe Book

A BOOK FILLED WITH NEW AND INTERESTING RECIPES?! How could he refuse such a brilliant gift! Now, as much as Wild loves cooking and experimenting with all sorts of food, he also loves learning about the culture surrounding these dishes! It is served with other specific dishes? Is it associated with certain events? How common is it? Or is it considered a cuisine! Bonus points if these foods are from your background! He has many questions.

Masks

Wild certainly has a large collection of masks, so large that it almost rivals the old man's! Almost. But he is always happy to add to his odd collection, especially if its more monster masks! He'll be more than happy to sit down and listen to you as you explain the origin of this mask! The more scary the better!

Legend

A Unique Item (Handmade items/gifts. I.e. art work, clothes, jewelry etc)

What do you get the man who -quite literally- has everything? Something one of a kind! Something that was made out of love and struggle (and maybe tears but who am I to say). Whether it's simply or complex gift he'll love it all the same. The fact you thought to make something from scratch just for him warms his heart. Even if he won't admit it!

Sea Shells

He's very very confused at first. He didn't mean to sound rude as he asked why you give him a sack of shells, but he was quick to regret his tone as you shrink back. But the reason you gave nearly brought him to tears.

You quietly said you've been collecting them for him, collecting them from everywhere the group has been. But as he continued to press, you admitted you wanted to gift him something to that when he left -when everyone left- he'd know that this was real. That everyone was real. And that he had friends from across time and space.

Four

Customized Hammer

Not only would Four love a new forging/blacksmithing hammer but on that customized for him?! He would be so giddy! Now, you may be asking, how is it a customized hammer? What makes it special?

The sides of the hammer are engraved with images! And these images look like a familiar small mouse creature~ They are subtle in their design and from an outsiders view, it'll look like some sort of logo!

Jeweled Bracelet

Something small but strong, either brought or made. Inlaid in the bracelet are four gems that sit side by side. Four gems of vibrant colours, each one representing each part of him. The inside of the bracelet -the part that rests again his skin- holds his initials. The metal is a harsh contrast to his warming skin, he really likes it.

Hyrule

New Flowers/Herbs

A hobby of Hyrule's is pressing flowers and herbs in his journal, which is filled with information about everything single plant found in it (based on this headcanon). Being given something to add to his collection brings him so much joy and excitement! Oh, how he can't wait to find out what interesting properties these plants might have! Bonus points if you gifted specific flowers to him cause they reminded you of him! Bit of a warning, he might get extremely flustered!

Compass

For a traveler, he tends to get lost quite a bit huh? He will be quite grateful for a compass to help whenever he steps off the trail! Though at first he is quite embarrassed and tries to say that, while he appreciates the gift he doesn't need a compass that bad! Hyrule accepts the gift after getting a stern look from some members *ahem* Time *ahem* of the group.

Wind

A Ship in a Bottle

A thoughtful gift that reminds him of home. When presented with the gift he has to contain the squeal of joy! (He fails but don't tell anyone) He turns the bottle over in his hands, trying to see every detail of the ship trapped inside. Bonus points if the ship itself resembles Tetra's boat. (A few tears might fall but that's a secret between you and him)

A Beaded Bracelet

It doesn't matter if it's hand made or store bought, he loves it with his whole heart! Whether the beads are crafted by the most talented craftsmen or by a simple tool, he admires every detail and every nick in the wood (intentional or not!). He can't help but smile as he slips it onto his wrist, it reminds him of the matching bracelets his little sister used to make for both of them.

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #linked universe headcanons #linked universe au #linked universe x reader #lu x reader #reader insert #kinda? i guess?#lu the chain #request #ITS DONE!#I OPEN YOU GUYS LIKE IT!#💫star may💫#tales out of orbit

143 notes · View notes

soldier-requests · 3 months

Note

Hello! Can I have an Aven (Worldless) doodle if that's okay? I'm very canon divergent, so this is a somewhat inaccurate sketch of what I looks like (My ears are a bit thinner and is locate on the side of my head, like elf ears. Plus I do have the scarf, I just doodled myself with a bandana instead.)

Plus everything else is pretty similar to canon Aven's, including colour palette! However, I haven't had any kinmems (Okay, the psychological version of kinmems) as yet, so I have zero clue on just how canon divergent I am.

Thank you in advance!

yeah sure! the design is pretty interesting, i've never really drawn a character / person with parts not connected! very new and funs to draw :].

these ones are digital so i could make 'em cleaner and add some glowy bits to one or two pictures, but let me know if you'd like to see the sketch versions!

i am also running into the image limit but have a few more things, so there will just be an extra post lol :]. i'll tag you in it, but i'll try to post them at the same time anyway.

as always, please don't repost my art!

so i have these four, which are more half and half because they're just different versions. i.. attempted to make it glow but it wasn't working out XD.

transparent backgrounds on the left and colored backgrounds on the right (the glowy ones are first):

then we've got this little waving one :]. transparent background on the left and comored background on the right:

and finally there's the guy sitting down and chillin' 👍. transparent background on the left and colored background on the right:

#octahedral-chaos #request accepted | ''Allons-y; Allonzo!''#doodles | ''As long as they aren't alive; I think we're good.''#worldless

8 notes · View notes

ijustwanttobegolden · 2 years

Text

The boy with the brown eyes

The boy with the bandana

There was a speculation going around about Eddie’s handkerchief/bandana so here’s a cheeky little fic based on it 😈 Warnings: slight mentions of sex and some mild language.

The bandana code

Bandanas of different colors indicated the sexual preferences or practices you wanted and sexual preferences will be partly indicated by the pocket in which the bandana is placed.

Eddie’s bandana

Colour: black Code: S&M

Worn: left side Code: Dominant

~⛓🗝~

His dreamily dark eyes studied the mess on his bed side table. Grains of Tobacco, a collection of cassette tapes and Polaroids of you scattered along the surface but not what he was looking for…

The curly headed Leader of the hellfire club and pending rockstar jumped up from his bed with slight protest, sighing like a stroppy child, unsatisfied with the digital clock that read 7:30am and annoyed at the disappearance of his precious silver rings.

After dragging his feet to the bathroom and back, carrying out his usual morning routine, he began properly preparing himself for school by getting dressed.

His dark curls fall into his face as he bends down in the middle of his stuffy small bedroom, awkwardly reaching for his black denim skinny jeans and pulling them up over his plaid blue boxers. The dark denim material compliments his long figure so well, the material clinging to his hips perfectly and the ragged rips in his jeans gave his look some edge. His hellfire shirt, His most prized possession next to his guitar gets pulled over his head and tucked in nicely before he proceeds to slip on a belt, some chains and his leather jacket followed by his denim one, the one you always like to steal.

Again another huff and a puff like a child. Before he could even check himself out in the mirror to approve how he looked and begin his route to the absolute hell hole that is Hawkins high school, he needed to find his rings.

Scanning the top of his dresser closely he noticed something metal and shiny and no they weren’t his handcuffs.. his silver metal rings, all four of them shining like treasure, enough to make Eddie’s eyes widen and smile with delight.

“Oh you beauties, there you are”

One by one he picked them up to slide the cold metal on each finger carefully, wiggling his fingers afterward to admire them. One in particular captured his attention, it was the one you liked to fiddle with the most when hanging out with Eddie, the one that you said was your favourite and now even more so it was Eddies favourite too.

Along with the rings, the hellfire T-shirt and the electric guitar, you was one of Eddie’s most prized possessions of them all. Even though you weren’t exactly together, Eddie worshiped the ground you walked on.. he would protect you at all costs and do absolutely anything to make you happy. Little did he know he also had that effect on you.

Even though just friends there was clearly something there, the both of you would cause absolute mayhem together, you complimented each other so well, chemistry between the two of you was just unreal and everyone in hellfire could confirm the sexual tension.

On the terms of sexual tension, a certain coloured bandana on a certain side of the back pocket of Eddie’s black skinny jeans didn’t help.

It was the finishing touch to his look… After sliding on the rings and clipping some silver chains onto the buckle loops of his jeans, the metal head reached for the soft material of the bandana in question. He began caressing it, admiring the beautiful patterns before wrapping the material around his knuckles tightly, winding it and unwinding it while thinking of all the naughty things he was eager to try and know that he would enjoy. His eyes wondered to the handcuffs on the dresser, they became dark with desire as he licked his lips.

When you first met Eddie you noticed his bandana instantly. The cheeky, mischievous metal head that captured your attention was known to most girls as the boy with the brown eyes but to you Eddie was the the boy with the bandana. Not many people knew the bandana code, but you being a little experimental and mischievous yourself, knew exactly what that black bit of material on the left side meant. Goddamn that boy with the bandana because it made you all the more interested in the ‘freak’ that was Eddie Munson. Oh he was a freak alright but most people was too innocent or stupid to understand.

You wasn’t sure if Eddie was aware that you noticed his bandana before and if you knew the meaning behind it or not, you both never mentioned it so probably not. In a way you was sort of glad, you liked the not so innocent, innocence of it all.

Eddie snapped out of his sexual trance, realising it was probably time to move his ass and get going before he was late for school. He took one glance at himself in the mirror, stuffing the bandana in his left pocket proudly, a smug little smirk gracing his face.

His look was complete.

…

The classroom was warm, stuffy. It was the middle of summer and you was counting down the days until summer break. You and Eddie had planned a little road trip, excited was an understatement. Eddie munson and road trip in the same sentence just sounded like so much fun.

Speaking of the hellfire devil, you stared at him intently from the back of the classroom with your leg crossed over the other, head lazily resting in the palm of your hand on the desk as you chewed some strawberry flavoured bubble gum. You were hot and bothered and History class was boring. Even more so now that mrs jones had permanently moved Eddie to the font of the class to keep you from ‘distracting’ one another. Listening to Eddie making jokes, flirting and laughing with you at the back of the class every history lesson was not ‘distracting’ it was entertaining and now here you were, bored and lonely.

You continued to stare longingly at Eddie, even though you couldn’t see that gorgeous face of his you still admired him from the the back. His long dark curls trailed down over the patchwork of his denim jacket, he shifted in his seat and you spotted it, that familiar dark piece of material. Your eyes lit up playfully then you squinted as you looked more closely at the bandana that trailed down the back leg of the chair, it was almost brushing the floor.

Mrs Jones’s ramblings about Alexander the Great became faint and almost slurred because all you could focus on was the bandana, you almost forgot about it until now. Eddie wore it everyday and not once had you ever questioned him about it. Again you knew what it meant, you liked what it meant. If only he knew that you did.

The two of you were always flirting maybe you could hint to him about it.. you shifted in your seat in discomfort. A weird feeling of anticipation building in the pit of your stomach as you chewed on your bottom lip. It seemed like an eternity that class dismissal bell was going to ring.

…

Finally the bell had rung, the loud ringing made your heart rattle in your chest, it was your cue to rush out of the hot suffocating room. You brushed passed Eddie avoiding eye contact. You were on a mission. The quick contact of your body brushing past his own sent a wave of happiness and comfort to him then a wave of emptiness when you left, the smell of your sweet perfume fading. Eddie was left slightly confused, almost worried. You were the first to get up out of your chair and go but not once ever leaving Eddie behind, especially without an explanation. You were hand in hand, the first ones out of the class. Together. Always.

You reached your destination.. the girls toilets. Not only somewhere to pee but somewhere to cry, somewhere to reapply makeup or in your case somewhere to gather your racing thoughts of Eddie and his stupid bandana.

You grip the edges of the sink tightly while you take in a deep breath. You focused your eyes on yourself to examine your makeup closely under the bright white lights using it as a way of calming yourself. You began to muster up wether it would be a good idea to flirt with Eddie or not, teasing him innocently… damn right it would be a good idea. You smiled devilishly while you rummaged around in your bag to pull out the cherry lipstick that Eddie once complimented, you once told him that maybe one day he could have a taste. Maybe today would be that day.

One of the toilet doors squeaked open as you applied a lustful layer of lipstick but not once did you avert your attention, even when the person appeared by the side of you and began washing their hands.

“Love that colour!” The random girl commented from beside you.

You smiled back at her through the mirror before rambling…

“Thanks! it’s called cherry and it smells like cherry.. looks the colour of cherries and.. sorry” you laughed getting carried away. You weren’t really this girly.. chatting about lipsticks in girls bathrooms was not your type of thing but strangely you felt nervous, you were rambling on because you were nervous?

The girl batted her eyelashes and shook her head sweetly “it’s fine, most girls won’t even hint on what product they are using when I ask.. just in case I ‘copy’ them” she mocked.

“Pathetic” you laughed then began to show her the lipstick so she could take note of the brand.

“I just want to say that you and Eddie are such a power couple! I see you two around a lot and I think you are both so sweet and cool” she gushed and you couldn’t hide the surprised look on your face.

Your heart skipped a beat at the sound of his name and you felt all sorts of feelings.

“You think we are together?” you almost stuttered.

A million thoughts began racing through your mind. Did everyone think you and Eddie was dating? Was you really that close? For now you put all thoughts aside as you still had a mission. Mission bandana.

…

You pursed your lips together, rubbing the smooth silky texture of the satin lipstick into your plump lips as you searched the hallways of rushing teenagers, all making bee lines towards the exit of the school to start the weekend. You couldn’t believe how quick the week had gone by but most of all you couldn’t believe how quick it was to lose Eddie. Where the hell was he?

Even on your tippy toes you couldn’t spot him, then a pair of hands snaked around your waist and a familiar dreamy deep voice broke out into your ear.

“Looking for someone Princess?”

Okay this was why everyone thinks that you were dating.. You get it now.

You blushed deeply, your heart raced as his breath tickled at your skin giving you goosebumps.

“Missed me?” You teased as you twirled around and locked eyes.

His hands fell to your waist and he tightened his grip on you. You loved it when he did this, It was like he owned you and never wanted to let go.

“You left me! I was so lost without you!” he whined as he pulled the most cutest puppy dog face.

“I was gone like two minutes and I needed to use the bathroom” you deadpanned playfully.

You both proceeded to walk wanting to get the hell out of school, so close to each others side that you were bumping into each other and walking almost unsteadily but Eddie’s arm around the small of your back kept you safe and somewhat steady.

“Mine or yours Princess” Eddie spoke as you reached the van. Eddie a metal head but also a gentleman, opened the door for you, holding your hand to help you step in. Friday night was officially your movie night and that was the plan…

You opted with Eddie’s place, a feeling of determination building up as you got closer and closer to the trailer park.

“You okay?” Eddie’s soothing voice filled the silence and his hand gripped your thigh with a light squeeze.

You suddenly let out a knowing giggle. Eddie didn’t need to worry about why you was so quiet.. you was quiet because you kept conjuring out naughty, flirtatious ideas in your head and you started chewing on your bottom lip once again, the bandana, the colour, the meaning, everything.

…

It took a while to settle, Eddie being Eddie was rushing around the place, picking up dirty boxers here, some empty packets of cigarettes there. The angel was gathering up every snack and beverage that you liked and setting up a little blanket den in the corner like he always did on movie night and all you could do was take it all in and admire the gorgeous D&D playing, future rock star.

“Eddie my love…” you smiled.

His sweet innocent eyes shot up to focus on you. He was knelt on the floor trying to get his old tape player to work which had its good days and bad days.

“Need a hand?” You asked unsure on what to say to begin with.

“No I got it sweetheart..”

“Are you suurree..”

You wondered over to him slowly, your eyes fixating on the black material that was waving about in his back pocket while he punched and rattled the tape player profoundly.

You bend over him but he was too detracted to get the tape player to work to be concerned about what you was doing until you reached for the bandana, swiftly tearing it out of his back pocket effortlessly. You straitened up and began waving it around delicately as if preforming some creative dance and you began to giggle feeling somewhat satisfied that you now have the ‘sexual’ statement piece of clothing that Eddie was unaware that you was aware of, in your hands.

Eddie noticed the material dancing through the air while the swift motion sent a slight cool breeze his way. He snapped his head up, his eyes widen slightly at the sight of you messing with the bandana but unsure of what to think so he just tilted his head and watched you curiously.

“Fixed it yet? You mindless asked. You continued to play with the fabric innocently.

Eddie was so confused in this moment, you’ve taken his denim jacket before, messed with his rings but not once have you ever stole his bandana out of his pocket.

He began to blush slightly, his cheeks heating up as his body temperature rises.. you had no idea how cute and innocent you looked messing with something of his that was so unbelievable daring and naughty.. if only you knew the meaning behind it, a part of him really wish you did.

You studied it with curious eyes, trying to hide a playful smirk. All Eddie could do was watch you closely, he started to feel a bit nervous.

“I love all the rings and chains but I love seeing you wear this” you smiled.

Eddie chuckled then stood up to get closer to you, taking the material from your hands.

He looked you dead in the eyes and a sudden thick tension filled the air but you couldn’t put a finger on it. Either way you were enjoying this little moment.

“You do?” He questioned, searching your eyes. His eyes were dark, darker then normal right now and a certain desire ran through your veins.

You nod with a knowing smile, a mischievous look on your face..

Eddie was shocked to find he was almost sweating.. why was he sweating. When you began circling around him that didn’t help the situation either.

You slowly walked around Eddie seductively, almost intimidating him if you weren’t so sexy before snatching the bandana back from him. You stopped in your tracks, centred with Eddie in his room and the silence was warm, welcoming as you began to slowly brush the delicate material down the side of Eddie’s cheek softly.

His tummy fluttered, what was happening right now he had no idea but he too was enjoying this little moment.

“Why do you wear this in your back pocket?” You asked innocently, you were teasing him so bad.

“Well do you know what it means?…”

He was fixated and very stern on hearing your answer, his dark eyes still heavy on you.

You stepped in front of him, reaching behind to slip the bandana slowly and carefully back into his left pocket.

Your delicate touch lingered sending Eddie shivers, the boy with the bandana wanted nothing more then to just grab you and kiss you so badly and finally have a taste of that sweet cherry lipstick of yours..

You wouldn’t even be able to give him the chance anyway because you wondered off over to his dresser, carefully eyeing up the shiny object that captured your curiosity and interest weeks ago as well as the bandana…

“Does it have something to do with these?…”

Eddie watched you carefully.. rattling of metal chains could be heard and then there you were, right in front of him holding up the silver pair of hand cuffs, balancing them on your forefinger.. you raised your eyebrows as you swayed them teasingly on the tip of your finger and you eyed him up suspiciously.

His lips finally broke into a devilish smirk. He studied you deeply once more with his dark chocolate eyes but they were now dusted over with lust. This time butterflies began to fill in the pit of your own stomach.

“Eddie Munson you absolute freak” you giggled flirtatiously as you shook your head in disbelief.

Finally the cat was out of the bag and well.. so was the handcuffs.

He chuckled deeply, some form of relief washed over you both and it felt amazing. Suddenly you were glad that you both knew about the whole bandana thing and that it was out in the open now.. to the point where Eddie jumped over to you like an excited puppy, scooped you up and literally tackled you to the bed.

“Woah slow down munson, this is all so new to me” you teased..

“Also I think everyone in school thinks we are a couple” you blurted out with a gasp.. oh no.. was you rambling on out of nerves again?

“A couple of freaks maybe.. but an actually couple.. can we please make that happen?” He practically begged you, his gorgeous puppy dog eyes making it difficult to say no, not like you would say no anyway.

“Eddie my love..” you trailed on as the tips of your fingers danced along the skin of his cheek bones and over his lips. You studied his flawless face closely absolutely in awe of him. Eddie was beautiful.

His brown eyes began to search your own.. once again he waited with deep anticipation for your answer but the silly metal head should already know the answer.

The light touch of your hands trailed behind his neck, pushing ever so softly as an indication.. Eddie already got the hint as he bowed his head lower, your lips almost touching.

Finally Eddie would get to taste your cherry lipstick...

#eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson #joseph quinn imagine #joseph quinn #stranger things 4 #stranger things fic

178 notes · View notes