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melonn-soda · 1 month

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❝ DON'T LEAVE JUST YET ( LET ME BREATHE WITH YOU ) ... ❞

word count: 968

warning(s): aventurine/ m! reader, nothing that serious (I believe) other than aventurine just not feeling well, comfort (chara. receiving), ooc aventurine?

prompt: aventurine has a rough start to his morning and he really need you to be with him.

notes: short comfort drabble with aventurine bc I feel like it. also I didn't play the new update so I don't have a clear idea on what his past was like. if anything is considered offensive, please tell me so I may change it!!

fem aligned dni

Mornings with Aventurine are usually slow with the reluctance of wanting to get up and the sluggish movements from underneath the warm covers rendering the possibility because you both are just too comfortable. Your lover is usually always first to get up and wake you, though, through lazy kisses on your forehead with a slight brush of your hair. Sometimes, it's you who was to wake him because he was working later than he would've liked and harder than he has before.

So, as the orange and red hues of the waking sun seep past the forest green curtains and flood the bedroom in all its softness, you stir awake and shift against the man who has you in his hold. Eyelids still feeling heavy, you shuffle so your face is buried deeper into Aventurine's collarbone, his arms that settle themselves around your waist tightening then loosening as he begins to rise from his sleep.

Feather-like kisses are pressed against the edge of his collarbone, just to let him know that you're still awake. He sighs into your hair after a while, sounding more exhausted than you would've like for him to be. In a quick decision, you decide it's best to make breakfast today and begin to draw away from him, slowly, as to not startle his barely awake self.

However, you plans are cut short as you feel him yank you back into place, Aventurine's nose finding its place in-between your neck and shoulder, arms wrapped tighter around your waist. You blink, not moving because he clearly does not want you to leave and that means something is terribly wrong.

"Ven?" You whisper, bringing a hand up to brush some of his bangs that are messily covering his eyes away from them, "You okay? Water?" Questions leave your lips, carefully, as to not scare him away, if that were even possible.

His voice cracks, you're not sure if it's because of the sleep or if he's beginning to cry but it cracks, "Can you just stay for a moment? Please? Don't want you to leave just yet.. Need you t'be with me right now." His eyelashes brush against your skin and his lips graze your neck as he speaks, and as per his request you don't move, attempting to press yourself closer against him even if all of you was as close as humanly possible. It was one of those days for him.

"D'you wanna talk about it?" You ask, running your fingers through his hair. Aventurine's head shakes against you because he doesn't feel ready to open up all of his sensitive memories to you. But that's okay, because healing takes time and you'll wait an eternity for him. With reassuring kisses against his hair and soft strokes of his face, you hope that he gets the message that you'll always be there when he needs you most, waiting and ready to listen.

Two hours pass, the sun now fairly high in the sky, making the room brighter. Somewhere in between those hours, you fell right back asleep unknowingly for a few minutes but always awoke to Aventurine still holding you tight (not that you minded). Each time that happened, yours lips pressed against his forehead to tell him you're awake now.

"...Thank you for not leaving." Aventurine mumbles onto your skin, slowly pulling away from you. His face was now visible, saturated swirls purple and green not facing your direction and instead directed at the end of the bed, "Sorry if I inconvenienced you."

You shush him softly, bringing your hand up to his cheek and brushing your thumb against his cheekbone, "I don't mind one bit. You matter so much more than anything else that I need to do today. If anything troubles you, I'm happy to just be there for you. Don't feel bad about asking for some company, Ven." A kiss is placed right between his eyebrows and Aventurine can't help but melt. His boyfriend, someone who treasures above all, is all he could've asked for. So patient, so gentle, so considerate, someone who he knows he could place all his trust in even if his instincts refuse to comply.

And when Aventurine looks into your eyes for the first time this morning, he feels at ease to see that you gaze at him with those same loving eyes as you always do. No anger directed at him because he refuses to tell you all about his life, no disappointment because you feel like he doesn't trust you enough, nothing. Nothing but love.

"I should- um, probably go make us some breakfast." He stutters, making a motion to slip out of his side of the bed. His silk pajamas glide against the sheets smoothly, only to be pulled back and have the sheets tossed right back over his chest, "Huh-?"

"Nuh uh," You quickly deny him, taking one of the stuffed animals on your side of the bed and placing it next to him, "I'll take care of that today, you need to rest, even if you're not tired. I'll call you in sick or something so you can have the day off."

"But-"

"But nothing, Ven," A peck to Aventurine's lips quickly shuts him up, "Just relax, it's the least you could do. You deserve this more than you think you do. I'll make some French Toast for us, yeah?" You tell him, slipping out of bed and your feet sliding into your fuzzy slippers. And with a click of the door, you're off to cooking.

Aventurine stares at the door for a bit before holding your stuffed animal close to his chest, the toy still smelling like you. He's glad he has someone like you in his life. Because of this, he doesn't think he'll ever stop loving you.

#male reader #x male reader #hsr aventurine #hsr x male reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x male reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr aventurine x male reader #hsr aventurine x reader #aventurine x reader #aventurine x male reader

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sinnersweets · 2 months

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DogDay x Reader part 5

<----- part 4, part 6 ——->

A/N: 2k words this time! Enjoy!!

As I laid in bed, I couldn’t seem to get DogDay out of my thoughts. I knew today would be a hard day for him since Darla was leaving Playcare. To him it probably felt like his kid was being taken away from him. The longer I started to think about it the more I thought about myself in his position. Yes, I’ve only been working there for a week but already I have a close connection with Damian. As I thought of Damian, I turned on my phone to see my lock screen. I changed it to the picture I took of his drawing yesterday. I looked at the time and saw that I had extra time before my alarm went off for work. I decided to head to the store and pick out a card for DogDay.

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Sitting in the cable car I started writing a heartfelt message for DogDay until on the TV a cartoon started to play. Odd. Usually music would play but this time I guess they wanted to change it up. “S-M-I-L-E every day!” I watched as the intro to Smiling Critters played out. I haven’t seen any of the episodes, but Damian did tell me about the show. I smiled when DogDay appeared on screen. He looked just like his cartoon version but tall and life like.

“DogDay says ‘When you see someone without a smile, give them one of yours!’” The screen went black as the cable car came to a stop. That was a cute cartoon. I tucked the card away and stepped out of the cable car and headed to my office.

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I opened my door and saw DogDay was laying down on his bed looking sad until he saw me and sat up with a smile on his face. “Angel!” I shut the door behind me and set my bag down onto my desk. “Morning DogDay. Did you sleep well?” I went over to him and gave him a hug around his neck. He rested his head on my body and sighed. “Not really Angel. Anytime a kid from my group gets adopted I always get so sad.” I moved one of my hands behind one of his ears and started to scratch him there.

DogDays tail started to wag, and he started thumping his foot. "No need for sorrow, let joy appear, with your Angel near, all troubles disappear." I sang out to him. DogDay pulled away and looked at me with such awe. “Did my Angel just sing for me?” I laughed a little nervously. “Yes?” I was quickly brought into a hug and could see his tail wagging faster. “I can’t believe I had the pleasure of hearing my Angel sing for me! Hearing you sing has made me feel much better.” I hugged him around his neck and laughed. “I’m glad to hear that.” He brought me back down onto the ground but his face was pretty close to mine. “Could you sing for me again Angel?” “Tell you what, anytime you’re feeling down I’ll sing for you okay?” “Okay!”

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Me and DogDay oversaw decorating the outside of Home Sweet Home for Darla, so we started with streamers. I was on the roof while DogDay wrapped some streamers around the railing. “Be careful Angel.” I heard DogDay call out to me. “Relax, I used to climb onto roofs all the time when I was little to see the sunrise; I’m a pro.” I saw him chuckle and shake his head. We both went back to decorating.

After a while the house was decked out with streamers and balloons. “Looks great Angel! Now come on down so we can head into the Playhouse for today.” DogDay held the ladder steady waiting for me. I started to slide down to the ladder but then heard a notification from my phone. I went to go check my phone but felt that my phone wasn’t in my pocket anymore. I looked around and saw that it was just a few feet in front of me. “Hang on I need to get my phone.” I scooted back up and reached over to my phone. I picked it up and turned it over to see the notification but instead saw a little spider on the screen. “AH!” I dropped my phone so fast and started to scoot backwards as fast as possible. In doing so I scooted all the way to the edge of the roof and slipped off. “I gotcha Angel!” DogDay pushed the ladder away barely catching me in time. The weight of my fall and him not expecting to catch me made him fall onto the ground while I landed right on top of him.

DogDay groaned as he sat up and rested his front paws behind him. My face was buried into DogDays chest. Thankfully when he caught me his pendant moved out of the way. “Are you alright Angel? What happened?” I pushed myself off his chest but was still sitting on top of him. “I’m so sosososo sorry! There was a spider on my phone, and I hate spiders- and I freaked out but I’m so sorry! Are you alright?” “I’m fine Angel. Glad that I caught you.”

“Woah- Am I interrupting something?” Me and DogDay both turned our heads to see KickenChicken grinning down on us. I saw how I was sitting on DogDay and blushed super hard. I quickly got off him and brushed myself off. “Nononono we were just um- putting up decorations for Darla!” DogDay got up after me and stepped in front of me a little. “KC why aren’t you with your group?” DogDay sounded cheerful but also a little annoyed that he was here. “Relax DD. I have extra time to spare and was making my way to the school until a phone out of nowhere smacks me on the head.” In his hand was my phone. “Oh gosh I’m so sorry about that KickenChicken. Thank you for picking it up.” I went to go reach for my phone, but DogDay had taken it from him.

It was silent for a few seconds before KickenChicken spoke. “Didn’t mean to interrupt your guy’s...uh thing...Welp I’ll go ahead and take my leave.” KickenChicken started to walk away before turning his head back and saying, “See ya later, Angel.” As he walked away, I heard DogDay start to growl. I put my hand on his paw, and he stopped and looked down at me. “Hey what's wrong?” “Hearing him call you Angel...it sounded weird coming from him. I didn’t like that.” Was he jealous? I couldn’t help but smile at him. “Don’t worry, hearing him call me that doesn’t give me the same feeling as when you do it.” I immediately froze up after what just came out of my mouth.

I saw DogDays ears perk up and he smiled at me. “What did you say Angel?” I know he heard me but I didn’t want to repeat myself. I started feeling my face grow warm. “N-nothing! Come on, let’s go!” DogDay laughed and handed me my phone back. I looked at it and thankfully there wasn’t a crack on the screen. However, when I turned on the screen, I saw that my lockscreen had changed from the drawing to KickenChicken. That motherfu-

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“Alright friends gather around!” DogDay called out to the kids in the Playhouse. “As you all know Darla will be leaving Playcare today and she has requested that we play her favorite game one last time.” I could tell that he was starting to get emotional, so I spoke out for him. “Darla has asked that we play ‘tug of war’ so get into your groups and get ready to play!” The kids all cheered out and went into groups of four.

The first teams walked up to the rope and got into position. Damian was on one side while Darla was on the other. DogDay lined up the center of the rope and tied a yellow flag to it. “Ready and go!” Both teams started pulling with all their strength. “Come on Darla you got this!” DogDay yelled out. Darla nodded her head and pulled the rope even harder to her side, leading them into victory. Damians team seemed upset but not him. He gave a thumbs up to her and she returned the gesture.

Everyone soon had a turn, and we were about to clean up until Darla spoke out saying that she wanted one last round; her and DogDay vs me and Damian. DogDay seemed to like this idea and so all four of us headed to the rope and got ourselves situated. DogDay and I were in the back with the rope wrapped around our waists while Darla and Damian were stationed in front. I already knew that me and Damian would lose because DogDay was the strongest one here, but I didn’t want to lose. “Get ready to lose Angel.” DogDay said teasingly. “Ha, like I’d let myself lose to you. Come on Damian, lets win!”

The children all watched and cheered each of us on as the game had begun. DogDay was just standing there smiling at us. The only time he would pull the rope was when me and Damian got close to winning. The flag was about to cross onto our side when Damian yelled out “Ok now!” Both him and Darla had let go of the rope and jumped away which meant I was about to get yeeted onto DogDays side. DogDay saw this and smirked and pulled the rope hard making me come towards him. I slammed into his stomach. I heard the kids all laugh at this. I looked up at DogDay and he had the biggest grin on his face. “I win Angel.” Click! We both turned and saw that Damian had my phone and took a picture of us.

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

I sighed and fell into my chair at my desk. The going away party for Darla had just finished and I was worn out today. I rubbed my eyes for a moment before hearing DogDay outside my door. “Can I come in Angel?” “Yes.” I said while yawning. DogDay entered and shut the door behind him before walking over to his bed and laying down. He had just seen Darla off with her family and I could tell he was sad. I grabbed the card I had gotten for him and made my way over to him. “Mind if I join you?” “Not at all Angel.” I then sat against his side and handed him the card. “Here, for you.” The card read, "To my dear DogDay; As Darla embarks on this new chapter of her life, I understand that her departure leaves a void in your heart. The bond you shared was special and filled with countless cherished moments. But as she finds a loving home and family to call her own, let us take solace in knowing that her journey is one of hope, love, and endless possibilities. While her absence may be felt keenly, remember that the love and friendship you offered her were immeasurable gifts. Your kindness and companionship made her days brighter, and your memories together will forever be etched in her heart. As Darla embraces her new beginnings, may you find comfort in knowing that you played a significant role in her life's journey. And as one door closes, may countless others open, filled with the joy of new friendships and shared adventures yet to come. With love and understanding, Angel.”

DogDay didn’t say anything, but I knew he was grateful for my card. He then had tears form in the corner of his eyes. “I think I need your singing now Angel.” He said while chuckling. I got up and climbed on top of DogDay and leaned down and started to scratch his ears. DogDay sighed and closed his eyes while his tail slowly wagged. I started to sing a little song for him. After a while I could tell that DogDay had fallen asleep. I stayed on top of him and pulled out my phone. I changed my lockscreen back to Damians drawing and changed my home screen to the picture Damian took of me and DogDay after tug of war. In the picture DogDay had his arms around my waist and had a soft look on his face while smiling at me. I was also smiling back at him with a small blush. I then went to my camera roll and deleted KickenChickens picture.

A/N: Idk why but it wouldn’t let me color KickenChickens part yellow. Anyways thank you for reading!!

#sinnersweets #poppy playtime #x reader #dogday #dogday x reader #poppy playtime chapter 3 #kicken chicken

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elstoy · 7 months

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can you pls expand on painslut ellie, and how she pinches her perky little nipples hehe

yea ! of course i can . just … loads of painslut ellie thoughts .

at first she begins with rolling them in circles with her thumb and her index finger . her tatted forearm flexes at the movement , detaches itself from the bottom of her chest then lifts itself up . she loves feeling good , everybody does , so when she twists her perky hard nipple around she whimpers a quiet sound . “nhh , fuck” comes as a very desperate plea for more .

then , she thinks of you . she thinks about your pretty face , your thick lashes , your lipgloss and your little skirts that are always way too short , and your top that always sits way too low , and she grunts . she pulls her nipple harder , further reddening the already red bud , and moans out your name .

the pull hurts , but it sends a jolt of electricity through ellie’s moist pussy . her hole flutters at the pain , clenches around nothing , as she hurts herself and nearly draws blood — thinking of your smile , then of your tits , then she thinks about how your mouth would hang agape if she ever decided to act on her whims and smack the shit out of your jiggly ass .

and then , come the pussy slaps . firstly , i believe that when she touches herself underneath her flannel covers , one of her favorite things to do is slap her pussy . i think it might stem from it turning her on , but also from sheer frustration . she …. well , she gets pretty upset at how her brain can’t focus all that well when the lights are off . she wants to go to sleep , she really does , but when certain thoughts of a certain person rise up in her dirty mind , she can’t help but sneak in her calloused , big hand down her sweats . and she hates it , hates how she can feel her juices soak up her boxers before she even slipped a finger in , hates how perverted she gets at the thought of your hand being shoved down her pants instead of her own , hates how she can picture your tits bouncing as she’s taking you on her strap . which is why , in the midst of assaulting her clit , painting circles upon her rising pink bud , swollen and wet and milky , she can’t help but slap her cunt in anger . and she’d huff underneath her breath as well , “atta’ fuckin’ girl” — she’d groan into the void , like she’s talking to you , and then she’d relish in the sound of the wet smack that comes from under the blanket . and she’s whine , too — a mixture of your name and a curse word , one that sounds so pathetic coming out of the assassin’s mouth .

#꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹ 💌 : anon #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams concept #subtop!ellie #ellie tlou2

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inoreuct · 2 months

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more sanji drinking angst plis,,, 🙏🏼😁

y’know, it’s normal when zoro drinks. he has an iron liver and a sky-high tolerance. he get mildly tipsy with the amount of alcohol sufficient to kill a regular man.

when sanji drinks, though, it’s usually… not very good.

they’re in the galley, have been since dinner. zoro’s drowsy and full and slumped over the table with his chin in his hand as he watches sanji scrub at the dishes until they squeak, divested of his suit jacket and shirtsleeves rolled up to the elbow, and the cook looks haggard. they’ve all been expecting it, really, what with Whole Cake being a fucking doozy— but sanji’s been holding it together perfectly. big smiles and neatly-pressed suits and coiffed hair and all.

zoro knows him well enough to know that he’s due to break at some point. still, tonight is the first time he’s seen sanji like this; like he’d just decided to say fuck it all and throw pretence to the wind. maybe it had been thanks to the emptiness of the galley, save the both of them. maybe sanji had considered it safe because zoro was in no place to judge.

but when sanji had picked up that bottle of rum, he hadn’t put it down until there was nothing left.

zoro had let him drink. the cook hadn’t even been smoking any more than usual— hadn’t had a single hair out of place, no sign of the pressure except the strain at the edges of his smile. everybody had been walking on eggshells for the past few days and sanji had just kept going like nothing was wrong, which zoro knows means quite a lot is wrong, because sanji’s a self-sacrificial bastard who wouldn’t be able to ask for help if his life depended on it.

didn’t mean it hadn’t hurt, though. he’s felt like he couldn’t breathe, the whole of last week; it doesn’t feel right seeing the cook with a bottle between his lips instead of a cigarette, liquor wetting the corners of his mouth instead of smoke. it makes part of zoro tighten into a dead knot. on one hand, it’s an unspoken show of trust— deliberately left alone so as to not draw attention to it, but one all the same. sanji would never let himself go in front of anyone else like this. maybe a few months earlier he’d think the cook just didn’t care enough for his opinion and get all offended, but now?

sanji knows he’s here. he’s never unaware of his surroundings, and especially now after… everything. he’s believing that zoro won’t judge him, and he won’t. he doesn’t. but enough is enough, and sanji’s grip on the edge of the plate is tight enough to turn his knuckles white.

it’s almost a relief in a really twisted way. zoro’s been hovering by the sidelines, sleeping with one eye open and waiting for sanji to crack just so he can catch all the pieces before the cook falls apart completely, and it seems like this is it.

his chair scrapes against the floor as he stands. “alright, let’s get you to bed.”

“no.” sanji doesn’t stop scrubbing. he doesn’t even bother looking up. “why?”

zoro scoffs. “because you’re fucking drunk, cook. you’ve been washing that plate for five minutes.”

“well maybe it’s just not fucking clean, yeah?” sanji spits, quiet vitriol leadening his words even with his head bowed, and his breathing is jerky as zoro walks forward.

“oi.” it doesn’t come out harshly, exactly, but he needs sanji to know that he isn’t fucking around with this. “What the hell’s going on?”

“i don’t know.”

“what do you mean you don’t—”

“i don’t know!”

zoro lurches back at the outburst as the cook whips around, seething within the span of a second, plate dropped carelessly into the water in the sink. he hears it thunk when it hits the bottom.

“i don’t know, alright?” sanji laughs, eyes wild. “nothing’s wrong. everything’s wrong. everything is fucking perfect and i feel like i’m fucking dying inside.” his voice cracks right before he takes a visible breath and turns sharply, dipping his hand under the water to grab the plate and sponge again.

zoro watches his shoulders tremble. every movement of his now is precise and carefully calculated; he’s moving like a fucking robot and zoro hates it. hates the way his spine looks rigid enough to snap with a touch. hates the way his face is a placid mask, still water with a storm roiling beneath. zoro doesn’t know how to approach this other than with barbed words and concern thinly veiled as confrontation. he doesn’t know what to do other than be here because it’s better than not being here at all.

sanji’s hands have been scrubbed pink and raw. “get out, mosshead.”

“no.”

the cook’s cuticles are peeling, his fingertips pruned. he never lets either of them get this bad. “i said get out—”

“and I said no.” zoro crosses his arms. he counts three seconds of silence before sanji snaps.

“god, for once could you fucking listen?!” the cook snarls, rounding on zoro like a cornered animal and waving his arms. “i don’t want to talk to you right now! i do not want you here! so please, fuck off and— put me down, you piece of shit!” sanji borderline screams, struggling and wiggling over zoro’s shoulder as he’s hauled up and marched out of the galley.

zoro winces as the toe of a steel-capped oxford jams into his ribs, digging in deeper as sanji grunts with the effort. he doesn’t know where he’s going but they end up outside the infirmary, and he shoulders the door open before depositing sanji on the bed without preamble. “stay,” he grunts, ignoring the noises of outrage and turning to go get water.

“you can’t tell me what to do,” sanji spits from behind him, cheeks red from more than just anger as he pushes himself unsteadily to his feet. he either doesn’t realise that he’s listing to the side or he doesn’t care.

“sit down or I’ll make you.”

the cook barks a laugh that snaps in the air like a neck in rope. “try! i fucking dare you, marimo, you—”

zoro tackles him down and he screeches like a trapped cat, trying to escape even as the swordsman pins his legs and shoves his shoulders down into the bunk. “you are drunk. stop it.”

“why?” sanji shouts in his face. the cook is straining against him, all wild eyes and bared teeth, shoulders jerking with a sardonic laugh. “don’t wanna fight anymore?”

“no. i don’t.” the air is suddenly too quiet, too heavy, with something zoro doesn’t know if he should name. he watches as the cook’s face falls and twists into something sullen as he tries one last time to jerk his way out of zoro’s hold. “not like this.”

their ship rocks gently as zoro slowly eases off, shifting his weight back and sitting on the edge of the mattress with a soundless, weary sigh. there’s still a stubborn set to sanji’s chin even as he lays there on his back, unmoving from where zoro put him— leave it to him to be contrary for the sake of being contrary. the swordsman takes a deep breath to suppress an eye roll and opens his mouth to say something—

“it hurts.”

zoro stills, turning so he can see sanji better. “what hurts, cook?”

“everything.”

the blond is staring at the ceiling, unblinking and unreadable. the fabric of his slacks is riding up and zoro swallows down the urge to curl a hand around his pale ankle for comfort. he tells himself he doesn’t know where the urge to soothe came from, but he knows, he knows— this melancholy is something that sanji buries so deep, none of them catch even a glimpse of it on a normal day. his face is a blank slate, his usual fire banked, and he looks so drained. an cracked shell of himself running on empty. “i don’t want to feel it. i don’t want to feel anything,” he continues, softly enough that zoro has to strain to hear, leaning in instinctively.

glossy blue eyes flick over. golden hair scrunches against the off-white sheets as sanji turns his face towards him and whispers, “doesn’t that make me exactly like them?”

no. zoro swallows, at the same time both too wet and too dry, feeling a little like he’s been gutted with a dull knife. he says a mental to hell with it and slowly shifts his hand to wrap his fingers around sanji’s ankle, just a gentle grip, his thumb resting beneath the notch of bone. he can hear the soft sounds of the waves outside as it melds with sanji’s breathing, as he opens his mouth and comes up dry for things to say. “…get some sleep, curls.”

“can’t.” sanji purses his lips, shrugging a shoulder as he looks away like it’s no big deal. “can’t sleep. not well, at least. not since…”

zoro feels his own heart thud against his ribs as his gaze slips over sanji’s face, the redness rimming his eyes and the dark circles beneath. “i’m sleeping with you tonight,” he decides.

the cook makes an aborted noise of indignation before apparently deciding that it isn’t worth the effort. “we can’t fit two people in a bed.”

zoro shrugs, unaffected in the face of the venomous look sanji shoots him. “we can try.”

sanji mutters something to the ceiling under his breath. the swordsman pretends not to hear it.

they end up crammed onto the infirmary bed, sanji squashed against the wall and zoro almost falling off. the blond wiggles around in discomfort for five minutes before sitting bolt upright with a hissed curse and undoing his dress shirt in a frenzy; zoro stifles a laugh as he balls it up and hurls it at the desk across the room before flopping back down with a loud huff.

the cook scrunches himself up, spine pressed against the wall and one knee pulled up between them to maintain the distance, pointed at zoro’s gut as a subtle threat. “i’m not gonna bite you, y’know,” zoro grumbles. here he is doing this out of goodwill and this is how he’s treated.

“i wouldn’t put it past you,” sanji snips in reply. “also, you stink.”

“no i don’t. i just showered.”

“irrelevant.”

“priss.”

“moron.”

“spoiled.”

“i have standards, you sentient piece of kelp.”

“you—” zoro grits out, before he stalls. somehow, throughout this whole exchange, they’d inched closer and closer together and now sanji’s shoulder is digging into his breastbone, his breath warm across zoro’s cheek even as a brush of his skin above the loose, low front of zoro’s shirt feels completely opposite. “why’re you so fuckin’ cold?” he mutters, briskly rubbing at sanji’s upper arms before the cook bats him away with a startled hiss.

“don’t—” he cuts off and huffs a harsh breath, sneering in the dark as he digs for the right word, “—coddle me.”

“why not?” zoro shoots back. the words are out of his mouth faster than he can process, but it’s too late to take them back. “give me one good reason and i’ll stop. just one.”

the quiet that falls into place after that is broken by the sound of sanji’s swallow and nothing else. it’s nearly pitch-black; they’d put out the lamp on the wall and the infirmary has no windows. if zoro strains his eye he can see sanji’s outline curled close to his own front, golden hair darkened to honey and arms wrapped around himself.

he recalls how it had felt to have fine bones beneath his hand. how the cook hadn’t kicked him off.

the hand he rests on sanji side is tentative. barely-there pressure, a ghost of a touch with enough space for sanji to back away. he settles his palm down more firmly after a few seconds, tracking his thumb up and down the bumps of sanji’s ribs, and he barely stops his breath from catching when the cook wiggles away from the wall and presses his spine into zoro’s hand.

sanji’s looking at him. he can see the occasional flutter of long lashes, feel the weight of the cook’s attention like sanji’s preparing to say something, but it never comes. a soft breath slips from his lips before zoro feels a hand curl around his waist, fingers curling into his shirt.

“sanji.”

the cook heaves a long-suffering sigh. it doesn’t hide how he’s affected by zoro using his real name; zoro can read him too well for that. knows him too well for that. “what.”

zoro readjusts, fingertips pressing into the small of sanji’s back to pull him closer, and wonder of wonders, the cook lets him. “you’re nothing like them.”

he pretends he doesn’t feel sanji’s arm tighten around him after a few seconds. he notices that his shirt’s damp right before he falls asleep, right where sanji has his face buried in his shoulder.

he doesn’t mention any of it.

the next morning is… interesting.

zoro had woken to an empty bed, with the sheets just barely warm and hazy recollections of a lithe body tucked to his side, a leg thrown over his and soft hair under his chin. he stretches and ambles down to the galley, scratching at his stomach beneath his shirt as he yawns, and right on cue— sanji’s disdainful little tongue click reaches his ears, and he smiles. everything’s back to normal, then.

there’s more of the usual; luffy getting yelled at to leave the eggs alone, i don’t care if you’re hungry, they are raw, and nami and robin being handed their special little tiny cups of coffee and tea respectively. the rest of the crew filters in, and zoro people-watches from his spot on the ratty corner couch before he eventually gets up and slides into his seat at the table.

but when sanji takes his spot beside him, it feels different. the cook’s made onigiri for breakfast, the plate set down just a little closer to zoro’s side than usual before he sits, and zoro pauses with his chopsticks in the air as an ankle bumps into his.

not roughly, or painfully, nowhere near, no. just a reminder. a small nudge that could say any possible number of things, but from the way sanji’s gaze meets his before darting away, he’d guess it’s the thank you that their cook always has so much trouble saying. it’s never a lack of gratitude— more of a refusal to acknowledge that he needed help in the first place, that he accepted it, but zoro will take what he can get.

the circles under sanji’s eyes aren’t quite so dark anymore.

zoro knocks back. he feels the rasp of his boot laces against the heel of sanji’s patent leather oxford, and neither of them pull away. the swordsman presses his lips together and takes a big bite to hide his smile, failing momentarily when sanji immediately starts berating his abysmal table manners, marimo, honestly, if you choke i will leave you to die, and yeah, sure. back to normal.

he catches sanji’s eye again, sky-cornflower-ocean blue, and he wonders what sanji could be seeing in his to make his face soften like that.

normal, and maybe a little something new.

(he isn’t quite sure what to do the following night. sanji’s already in his own bunk when he slips in for a quick few hours of shut-eye, but it isn’t long before he feels someone climbing in with him, and he just knows instinctively without even needing to open his eye. they’ve got limbs hanging out here and there but they fit reasonably well and zoro wakes with sanji’s sleep shirt tucked in his fist and his thin blanket pulled up around his shoulders.

it goes on like this night after night to the point where their crew knows, he thinks. even if zoro discounts the fact that most of them share a bunkroom, they’ve still got to know something’s up; sanji glows like sunlight reflecting off the ocean now, real smiles and laughs that have him tossing his head back and holding his stomach, eyes in sapphire half-moons. robin brings it up offhandedly one day and zoro hums that proper sleep’s doing their cook good— she gives him that look that she does, and he turns away with a smile that he hides in his arm.

the first time sanji finds him in the crow’s nest, he’s still asleep when zoro’s watch ends. the cook’s stretched out on the bench above as zoro sits on the floor, hand draped down against zoro’s collarbone, his face so peaceful that zoro can’t— fuck, he can’t wake him.

and it can’t be comfortable lying on his own arm like that; zoro sits down and carefully pushes him up until sanji’s leaning on his shoulder, that sharp nose tucked under his jaw, and drifts asleep.)

(he stirs awake before sanji’s gone. his eye flutters open to find the cook mid-yawn, working out a crick in his neck and bathed in early-morning light, warm and golden. the cook realises he’s watching and freezes, shoulders going tense and stiff—

he deflates a little when zoro blinks at him, sleep-warm and bleary. “gotta make breakfast, marimo,” he murmurs, reaching out after a moment’s hesitation.

the hand that cups zoro’s cheek is gently callused and somehow familiar. he turns into it like a flower to the sun and breathes in something that he never even realised he’d gotten used to, olive oil and shoe polish and orange blossom pomade. “i know,” he replies, pressing the words into sanji’s palm, and a thumb drags across his cheekbone.

“need anything before i go?” sanji asks, and they both know it’s half a joke. what could he possibly give zoro in here? a dumbbell sandwich?

that other half, though— it’s far too serious. a cold plunge of water through zoro’s muddled early-morning brain. he knows what he wants, but zoro also knows that patience is a virtue for a reason.

the cook already has a hard enough time letting people in. zoro doesn’t want to push. the hand against his cheek is enough for him, even if it is all sanji could ever want, and so he slips the blond a wry grin. “onigiri?”

“you— ugh, fine.” sanji huffs. “anything else?”

zoro frowns, growing increasingly convinced that this is some sort of trap. these are unprecedented levels of generosity. “…protein shake?”

it takes all of two seconds before sanji puts his face into his hands, taking a deep breath before zoro hears something about having to do everything myself, don’t i? the cook plants his hands on his hips, tapping his foot with one brow arched. “of all the people in the world,” he mutters through his teeth, advancing on zoro with enough of a menacing air that the swordsman leans back into the backrest, “of course it had to be you.”

“me what?” zoro says warily, eyeing sanji up and down, and opens his mouth to continue before a fist grips his collar and there’s a brush of contact at his temple— a kiss, he realises, before all the thoughts drain out of his fucking brain.)

(he’s still reeling when he stumbles his way to breakfast. still wide-eyed as he washes the plates, for once, without complaint. it’s when it’s just the two of them, when zoro twists around to ask a question that he hasn’t yet phrased, that arms lock around his waist and sanji’s forehead presses to his nape.

they’re quiet for a long, long while. “you remind me that i’m not like them, y’know,” sanji breathes, barely loud enough to be heard.

zoro turns in his hold, hands dripping all over the floor, fuck, the cook’ll make him clean that up later, he knows and he isn’t even mad about it. “what do you mean, curls?”

sanji leans into him, all sharp edges and bony joints softened by lean muscle and zoro’s fondness, fingers long and thin and laced together over zoro’s hip. “i’m pretty damn sure they’ve never felt like this.”)

(not much changes after that. franky does make them a bigger bunk to share, though, and they fight perhaps even more fiercely now; afternoons are spent toying with each other across the deck, pushing their limits, pushing each other higher until nami yells at them to stop making a racket. zoro doesn’t pretend that he can’t tell when sanji needs a little more contact, keeping him close when perfectly filed nails dig into his shirt. sanji takes care of them all like he always does, and he lets zoro take care of him— most of the time, at least. it’s still a toss-up on whether he’ll explode or break down whenever anyone tries to help him, but with zoro it’s either both in succession or neither.

sometimes he picks a fight and then cries afterwards. others, he concedes to being wrapped in a ratty old blanket and tucked into zoro’s chest where he can hide from the world.

he sleeps through every night now, though. he’s fiery and sharp-tongued and bright-eyed and when he’s had a bit too much to drink he just gets loud, fooling around with their captain and cackling with nami in a corner of the galley between conspiratorial whispers, but zoro can’t deny him anything even though he’s fairly sure they’re plotting his downfall.

he wouldn’t have it any other way.)

#THANK YOU FOR THE ASK ANONNNN #will never get tired of angsting this babygirl. i’m sorry he just has so many Issues #BUT I ALWAYS GIVE THEM HAPPY ENDINGS ALRIGHT SO IT BALANCES OUTTTT #it’s almost 4am this time this is actually horrid #GOODNIGHT ZOSAN NATIONNN #zosan #one piece #black leg sanji #zoro x sanji #roronoa zoro #one piece sanji #one piece zosan #one piece zoro #sanji #zoro #ino writes #ino’s ask box

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prismuffin · 1 year

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Poly!Alerudy treating male!reader like Morticia Addams

( gonna go from headcanons to a mini-oneshot cause thats just how I write these - All spanish used is translated for non-spanish speakers! )

/ dt: @adicthao /

warnings?: TOO MUCH LOVE AND AFFECTION RAHHHH- but can you ever get enough of Alerudy?

!-!more under the cut!-!

—It's more than likely that they were in a relationship before you came along. Even if it wasn't as serious or official, there were still some romantic elements to it- but seeing you was like love at first sight for the both of them.

—They just can't get you out of their head and they both know that the other is thinking the same thing. They end up having a heartfelt conversation about it which leads to them deciding to try and win you over and add you to their little relationship.

—Alejandro is more likely to try and win you over with gifts while Rudy tries more acts of service to catch your eye. Either way they're both not shy about trying to get your attention at all.

—Expect roses with little notes attached detailing your beauty signed by Alejandro proudly. He'd walk up to you later and would wrap his arms around your waist asking if you liked the flowers.

—Same thing with Rudy, he'll give you your favorite morning drink and would bring you breakfast if you'd like that. Been working too hard? He'll offer you a nice massage and you best believe he gives the best massages ever.

—You'd be spoiled rotten with love and affection from the two Latinos, it's practically inevitable that you fall for them both.

—Alejandro and Rudy plan a grand dinner to invite you to join their relationship. They're overjoyed when you say yes, both of them placing an identical kiss on your hands.

—Be prepared for the abundance of endearing Spanish nicknames. They'll call you practically everything in the book. Alejandro's favorite pet name for you would probably be "Mi Príncipe," (my prince) or "Cariño" (dear) while Rudy loves calling you "Mi Vida" (my world/life) and "Mi Corazón". (my heart) Of course "Mi amor" (my love) is used just as often.

—I love the headcanon that Rudy's not a morning person so Alejandro usually wakes up before the two of you and spends his time admiring you both before (sometimes) getting up to do menial tasks or getting/making the two of you breakfast. Rudy often wakes up before you but he doesn't get up right away, instead he'll usually just admire you.

—They both wake you up in the softest fucking ways. Usually little kisses being placed all over your face while they whisper sweet things to encourage you to wake up. They love how peaceful you look while you're sleeping and will often times be very gentle with you in the mornings.

—They're both smitten. They love you so much they just can't live without you, they'll do practically anything just to make you smile at them.

—Praises. Praises. Praises. They'll constantly give you praises and compliments on both your body and mind. Lots of admiring whenever any piece of base clothing is shed. If you're shirtless it's hard for them to keep their hands off you, they love your arms and your chest and you best believe they will tell you that often.

—Alejandro loves having his hands on your waist and they'll often be resting there whenever you're near each other. Rudy often loves to hug you from the front, admiring your features before placing his forehead on yours. It's in this position where he'll rant about his day or ask about yours.

—Just love the thought of Rudy or Ale saying "Ese es mi chico guapo" (that's my handsome boy) NDHODWIDJODWDKANDWDFLIN-

—It's midnight, I ran out of brain power uhhh ONESHOT TIME

--!--

Feather light kisses tickled your face, drawing you from the depths of slumber. You instinctively leaned into the feeling, smiling at the soft awakening. "Déjame ver esos lindos ojos.." (let me see those beautiful eyes.) Another kiss was planted on the high of your cheekbone. Your eyes fluttered open, a smile gracing your lips as your sights were filled with the face of your boyfriend, Rodolfo. He laid beside you, now caressing your face with the back of his hand. "There they are," he smiled, leaning in to kiss you properly. “Buenos días mi Corazón.” (Good morning) You hummed, leaning into his words, they never failed to make your heart flutter. “Good morning Rodolfo.” You placed your hand on his cheek, staring into his eyes. “Where’s Alejandro?” You asked, noticing the absence of arms wrapped around your waist and the lack of praising whispers in your ear from behind, which could only mean he was gone. “In the kitchen,” he grabbed your hand which was previously rested on his cheek, pressing a loving kiss to it. “He's making breakfast for us." As if on cue Alejandro cracked the door open. Peaking inside, his smile widened when he realized you were now awake. He was quick to be by your form, taking his rightful spot behind you on the bed. "Buenos días Cariño," he whispered softly in your ear, your heart fluttering as he peppered the side of your face in sweet kisses like Rudy had done before. You giggled, turning your head and cupping his face in your hand. "Good morning Ale," He admired your face for a minute, his smile turning into a smirk before he leaned down to kiss your lips. "Come now, I made us food!" Alejandro grinned wide before he scooped you up in his arms, carrying you bridal style. A gasp flew from your throat, despite this happening often enough it still always caught you off guard when one of your boys carries you like this. Rudy let out a chuckle as Alejandro spun you around slightly, singing a quick verse from one of the millions of Spanish love songs. He carried you into the dining room where the table had already been set, three plates sat in their respective spots already made to both you and Rudy's breakfast preferences, quiet music playing in the background. Alejandro sat you down on the dining table bench closest to the wall before taking his seat to your left, Rudy, sitting on your right. Both you and Rudy thanked Alejandro before digging into the meal. It was good, as always, and you made sure to relay that to Alejandro. You ate, mostly in silence yourself as you listened to your boys talk about upcoming expeditions and such. At some point Rudy had ended up breaking off bite sized pieces of bread just to feed you even after you insisted that it was fine. He only smiled, replying with a "I want to do this for you Guapo," and with the way he stared at you, you couldn't refuse. You finished before the both of them which allowed them both to grab one of your hands each as they continued to eat and talk. Rudy cleared the table leaving you with Alejandro who'd somehow gotten you slow dancing with him, "Words can't describe how much I feel for you mi amor." He placed a kiss to your forehead and you sighed. "I love you Ale," You cradled his face in your hands, "and you too Rudy." You added, feeling his hands slide onto your waist, his chest pressed against your back. You and Alejandro's hands dropped as you switched positions so that you were being wrapped into a hug by both of them. You all swayed slowly just relishing in each others presence, smiling as you savor the treatment you receive from your loving boyfriends.

----!----

(GRAHHHH I FUCKING LOVED WRITING THIS also its 1am LMFAO - Feedback is appreciated !! )

Thanks for reading! Have a great day/night!!

My requests are OPEN but you can still send me messages to see if I'm close to opening them again!

See my DIRECTORY for upcoming fics!

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captainpulisic · 11 months

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your kiss, my cheek, I watched you leave - m. mount

feedback is appreciated, thank you.

word count: 2.1 k gif credits to owner

if anyone asked either of you about it, neither you nor mason would be able to explain how the fight had started. you’re not entirely sure what had made you two so upset with each other, you just knew this bitchy attitude had been happening all morning.

there you were, in the kitchen, pondering over how this fight had started. could it have been about the girl who had been too touchy with him at last night's party? maybe it was about the extra hours you had spent at work this past week, arriving home long after mason had gone to sleep? fuck, if we’re being honest, it was probably about who had finished the last pint of ice cream, maybe?

as you look at the clock, you decide to put a pin on this reflection, seeing it’s nearly time to leave for tonight's game (just because you both want to murder each other right now doesn’t mean you won’t go, you were never one to miss a game, if you could help it.). you head up the stairs to your bedroom, the same stairs mason had stormed up a few minutes ago. what a child, you nearly laugh at the image of masons pout when you called him immature. instead of retorting with, also, calling you a name, he simply huffed and stomped up the stairs. seconds later, the sound of a door being shut rang throughout the whole house.

as you enter your shared bedroom, you’re greeted with masons back. his tense movements and the manner in which he is throwing clothes into his duffel bag, let you know he’s still feeling raw about the fight.

you still feel pretty raw, too. thus, you spare him no glance as you shove past him. yes, you still put on your number nineteen jersey (not wearing it would be a little too much, even you know where to draw the line. mason would see it as a stab to his heart). yet, as you remember how he rolled his eyes when you called him unreasonable, you feel irked again. you need some sort of retaliation. you make a show of putting a plain, grey hoodie over the jersey, refusing to meet his stare. that oughta show him, you think to yourself. he looks as if he wants to say something, yet resorts to another eye roll and an even louder scoff.

both of your attitudes were so horrendous, they continued as you settled into the car. the whole ride to the bridge, not one word was uttered to each other. no, it was all huffy sighs and the low hum of the music playing. hell, even the way he was holding your hand was stiff, no gentle squeezes or lip brushes. (what? just because he’s furious at you doesn’t mean he’s not going to hold your hand. he's upset, not crazy.)

when you arrive at the bridge, you both linger by the entrance, unsure of what to do or how to depart. usually, on happy days with no fights, you both stay there as long as possible, as you pepper his face with kisses. one on his forehead, one on each cheek, one on the little red spot on the bridge of his nose. you repeat this ritual until you’re both giggling messes. lastly, it ends with one final, proper kiss on his lips before he has to leave for some pre game obligations. mason refers to this as his ‘good luck kisses’. he swears on every star and planet that these ‘good luck kisses’ are the reason they win. before, you’d brushed it off as mason just making silly excuses to get kisses. you’d always been one to indulge him because who were you to deny him kisses? but to mason, he wholeheartedly believed that your little ritual meant something, it was the one superstition he followed before every game.

“you can never not kiss me, or else you’ll have to tell everyone you’re the reason we lost”, he had explained to you. even though you had laughed, it quickly died off when you saw his dead serious expression. “y/n, there’s nothing funny about this. the whole clubs future depends on you and me getting it on.”

therefore, your little tradition was born. if there was a game, mason could be found being kissed to death by you. if ben or conor or anyone else happened to pass by during this, their teasing would be answered with masons, “do you want us to win or not?”

when chelsea would end up winning a match, he’d get so smug. he’d claim that your kisses really were lucky, crediting you for their win. no, you weren’t just his good luck charm, you were the entire teams. if they happened to lose, even with your good luck kiss, he simply blamed it on someone else's performance or the refs shit calls.

“well that was unfortunate, but it wasn’t my fault,” he would whisper in your ear, as you greeted him after a hard loss. you’d just shake your head, assuring him he was spectacular on the field. a smile would form on his lips as he whispered into your ear, “next time, we have to have a proper makeout, just to make sure we win, yeah?”

yet, right now, the air between you two is frigid. there are no giggles and no playful touches as you cover him in kisses. no, you both stand there and look everywhere but at each other. mason doesn’t leave right away, unsure if he should. you had never been one to deny him his good luck kiss, surely today wouldn’t be the start. arguments come and go but this was your tradition. he knew that you knew what it meant to him. yet, as you showed no indication of leaning in to give him his kisses, he figured he’d take on the role today.

look. you didn’t mean to turn your head, causing his kiss to land on your cheek. you swear it! you had seen him lean down and (secretly) felt relieved that today would have some normalcy, with your good luck kisses. but all too soon, you remembered how mason had refused to listen to you in the heat of the argument. instead of trying to talk things out and think of a solution, he had told you to “grow up” and walked away. like a switch, your anger and bitterness had come back with a vengeance. and like a reflex, your head turned when his lips came crashing down.

you’ll admit, it was a petty move. you don’t really regret it though, anger still bubbling from his childish behaviour. if he wanted to be childish, so could you.

you don’t regret it, that is until you see the look on masons face. your rejection of his kiss feels like the ultimate betrayal to him. the hurt in his eyes and his dejected expression have you second guessing everything you’ve ever done.

“oh,” masons voice is small, but not as small as he feels at the moment. his face has fallen and his heart feels stripped bare. his sad pout is more present than ever. when he speaks, it's a mere whisper, “okay then.”

you’re not doing any better, all the hard feelings you had moments ago were looking very dumb. the look on his face had you ready to fold and forgive him. you had to hold yourself back from reaching for his hand and pulling him into your arms, kissing him until you were pulled apart. you just… couldn't.

maybe you were too stubborn, but so was he. plus, you still felt you were owed an apology. he was the one in the wrong, the culprit in this stupid argument. you had to remain strong, even if all you wanted was to kiss the sorrows from his face.

with one final (heartbreaking) glance towards you, mason turns to head into the locker room. and with that, you half heartedly head to the designated seating area for family and friends.

it’s just a silly tradition mason and I have. we only do it because it gives us a reason to unashamedly make out. it’s not like our kissing sessions affect if chelsea actually wins or not, you tell yourself as you find your seat.

soon enough, you’re eating your words. you don’t know if you should cover your eyes or turn your head away from the crime scene unfolding in front of you. the way chelsea is being annihilated by the opposing team, you’re dumbstruck. mason is a whole different story, playing like (in the kindest way possible) shit. it’s a sea of cards and missed shots. the ball gets stolen from him more times than you could count and his frustration is evident. he’s throwing fits and cussing out no one in particular as he walks the field.

by the time the final whistle is blown, you’re grateful the bloodbath is done with. you’re not sure how you feel about what just happened. the one time I didn’t kiss mason, they really did lose, you mull over this. it can’t really be connected, right?

nonetheless, as you make your way towards the locker room, you’ve had time to think things over. you’re much more calm than when you left mason two hours ago, and all you want to do is kiss him and end this stupid argument. you’ll even be the one to swallow your pride and apologise if you have to, you just need things to go back to normal. heck, you even took off the hoodie and are proudly showing off the nineteen on your back. maybe that’ll ease the blow a bit. you can’t stop thinking of the hurt look he gave you when you rejected his kiss, and you can already imagine the horrid mood he’ll be in after the end results of the match. he’s already had such a difficult time with all his contract drama, another team loss is the last thing he needed.

waiting outside the locker room, you offer sympathetic smiles as all the boys start to walk out. mason is one of the last ones to exit, looking down at the ground as he walks. when he looks up and sees you, your heart wants to shatter into a million pieces. his dejected expression and ever present pout actually hurt you.

“you didn’t kiss me,” he whispers matter-of-factly, as he comes to a halt in front of you. he’s still refusing to meet your gaze. he mumbles towards his shoes, “you didn’t kiss me and they kicked our arses out there.”

“what?” you’re baffled, having thought his sour mood would be due solely to the team's loss, or even to his mid performance. you hadn’t thought the lack of kisses between you had gotten to him so badly.

he finally looks at you, and it's like a shot to the heart. his eyes are filled with sadness and frustration and so much hurt. he states it as if it's the most obvious thing in the world, “you didn’t give me my good luck kiss. you turned away, so I played like shit.”

oh my, your heart might burst. my sweet, precious boy, I don’t deserve you. this situation is so pathetically heartbreaking and you hate to see him so sad over something you did. it’s all too much, the way he genuinely believes your kisses could control the outcome of the game and his performance.

“my baby,” you’re wrapping your arms around him in an instant. automatically, he reciprocates the action and nuzzles his face into you. you begin to rub his back, trying to ease his breathing and relax him a bit. after a few moments in this embrace, you nudge him from his hiding spot in the crook of your neck and hold his face with both hands. you leave a kiss on the tip of his nose, “i’m so, so sorry. it’ll never happen again.”

he simply nods and offers you a slight smile. in return, you place a soft kiss on his jaw and on at the lobe of his ear. you leave another kiss on his cheek and one on his forehead. soon enough, you’re both lost in a haze of kisses. when you hear him let out a soft laugh, your heart strings ease up.

yes, this is how it should be. no arguments and rejected kisses. there should just be laughter and intertwined hands and soft kisses and happiness.

trying to lighten his mood even more, you look around before you lean in towards his ear. you fake whisper, “please don’t tell the other boys I didn’t kiss you today. I don’t want them to start forcing us to kiss in front of them before every game, like some sort of kissing cult sacrifice show.”

he gasps and puts on a (not so) fake offended face, “why not?”

#mason mount #mason mount x reader #mason mount fluff #mason mount imagine #mason mount angst

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elitadream · 1 year

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Mario had been contemplating solutions in vain, sitting by himself forlornly after yet another grim and discouraging day of continuous failure when he registered the faint shuffling of timid steps nearby.

It was quite late and the man didn't exactly have the energy to feel surprised, but he curiously lifted his head nonetheless.

"Junior?" He wondered aloud, gazing worriedly at his provisory ally. "What's wrong?"

The young prince was rubbing his eyes, swaying idly on his feet and stubbornly staring at the ground. He didn't respond, but he didn't need to. His distress and need for company was plain to see.

Knowingly, Mario unfolded his legs and rested both hands on his knees, giving him a compassionate look.

"Couldn't sleep either, huh?"

Junior shrugged before joining him and leaning against his side, eyes downcast. There was no trace of mischief or deception to his demeanor. Only a defeated sort of acceptance.

Mario couldn't help but feel a genuine twinge of amazement at the vulnerable gesture.

"I'm... really sorry about your dad," he ventured, not quite daring to move.

Junior blinked wearily, but showed no other sign of acknowledgement. There was a brief moment of silence until Mario felt compelled to look at him once more.

"I don't know how long this might take, but I promise you we will find a way to turn him back to normal. I will not give up on you, or him. You have my word," he assured gently.

Junior merely curled in on himself more tightly as a response, appearing impossibly small compared to the gigantic beast his father had somehow become. His brows were furrowed in an expression the plumber had never seen before. A deep sadness mixed with a touch of remorsefulness, or perhaps resentment.

Mario was about to ask if he had somehow said something he shouldn't when Junior finally spoke.

"My Papa is wrong about you," he muttered, very quietly.

Before Mario could so much as blink, the small Koopa went on, shaking his head with a sniffle.

"You're not a coward and you're not stupid. You work hard and you never complain. You just want to help everyone, all the time. Even us."

His words, albeit said reluctantly, were spoken with uncharacteristic sincerity. Mario couldn't find it in himself to smile, so he carefully wrapped an arm around the prince's shell instead, giving his shoulder a comforting pat.

"I don't mind the insults. Not really," he amended softly, hoping that he somehow sounded more confident than he felt. "I guess that's just the way Bowser perceives me. It's okay."

"No, it's not," the young heir retorted. "He's very unfair towards you. He said some really mean and hurtful things, and-"

Junior stopped himself with a small whine, pawing at his face again. He was still averting his gaze, but the fragile tone of his voice betrayed his guilt.

"...I said mean things, too. I'm sorry."

For a few seconds, Mario could only stare mutely back at him, stunned by the unexpected apology. He then shifted closer, bringing his arm more securely around the Koopa in a side hug.

"Everybody makes mistakes," he murmured. "But everybody can change."

"I wish that was also true for my Papa," Junior mumbled, dejectedly.

At this, Mario hummed wistfully, his answer long believed and thoroughly considered.

"Maybe... all he needs is a bit of help."

When I first heard of Bowser's Fury a few months ago, all I knew about the plot was that Junior goes to seek Mario's help in the hopes of stopping his father's rampage. And words couldn't describe how much I LOVED the idea. Although this is an older drawing and my look for Junior has since changed a bit (the same way I eventually altered Bowser's design), this was the concept that later inspired the way I've decided to approach Mario and Junior's relationship in a broader sense - which means that there'll definitely be more with these two. :3

Mario being enduringly kind and winning foes over with nothing but his goodness of heart never fails to give me feels, and I want more of that. 💖

#Mario #Bowser Jr #Junior #drama #mild angst #bittersweet vibes #cautious friendship #just a little something I've been thinking about a lot lately #everybody hurts deep down #compassion is a gift

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multifandomfanficss · 5 days

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A Pretty Damn Good Solution

Egon Spengler x Reader

Prompt: When Egon finds out you’ve been having nightmares all week, he decides to find a way to help you by conducting a sleep study.

Warnings: Nightmares, panic attacks, sleep deprivation, and insomnia.

A/N: This is GN!Reader with no pronouns specified. The Egon brainrot is so real so please enjoy this incredibly self-indulgent fic I wrote to the cope with my work stress induced nightmares. Crossposted on my AO3 adriansglasses.

You woke up breathing heavy, in a cold sweat. You hear quick, clumsy footsteps running through the hallway of the firehouse. At first you’re confused. You’re still out of it and you’re scared. Suddenly Egon is busting through your doorway. His glasses are crooked, his pj shirt is buttoned incorrectly, the buttons not matching the holes. He has a proton pack slung over his back. He must have been in a hurry to get to you.

“Are you okay?! I heard you scream.” He looks at you with confusion. “I thought one of the ghosts had breached the containment unit.”

“I’m sorry. I just had a nightmare.” You apologize, still trying to collect yourself. You’re shaking like a leaf.

“Oh.” He looks at you sadly, taking off his proton pack. He sits on the bed, straightening out his glasses. The bed dips, shifting you towards him.

“I apologize for my appearance and demeanor. I was under the impression you were in danger.” He looks down at his shirt, fixing his buttons.

“I’m sorry I worried you.” You say, sheepishly.

“No, don’t be.” He draws out the o on the no, speaking softly, inflecting his tone upwards to try to bring you comfort. He gives you a soft smile, to match his tone.

You sit in silence for a few minutes. Egon isn’t quite sure what to say, but you don’t mind. Despite his awkwardness, he was still deeply comforting.

“I forgot to ask. Are you okay?” He breaks the silence.

“Not really. I’ve been having nightmares all week.” You begin to fidget with a string on your blanket.

“(Y/N), why didn’t you say something?” He asks.

“I didn’t wanna bother anyone.” You shrug your shoulders.

“You’re living in a building with several scientists who care about your well being. I assure you that you wouldn’t be bothering us. We could have helped you. You should have at the very least spoken to Peter. His concentration is psychology.” Egon tried not to lecture you, but he was confused as to why you were suffering alone instead of asking for help. He didn’t like to see you in pain.

“I guess I thought I should be able to deal with it on my own.” You avoid eye contact. Egon finally puts the pieces together. It wasn’t always easy for him to read social que’s, but he could read his friends easily enough.

“There’s no need to be embarrassed. Everyone has nightmares. They could be caused by a number of reasons. Typically mine are caused by stress, but I’ve since figured out how to get a handle on them through scientific means. Where they used to be constant, they’re now more rare for me.” He sympathizes.

“I didn’t know you had nightmares like that. I’m sorry.” You respond.

“They’re handled.” He pauses for a moment, thinking. “I believe it would be beneficial for me to conduct a sleep study on you starting tomorrow night, with your consent of course.”

“Do you really think it’ll help?” You look at him, desperate for an answer to your problem.

“Yes. I’ll have everything ready tomorrow night, but do you need anything before I go?” He asks.

“Can I please have a hug?” You request. Usually you’d be embarrassed, but right now you didn’t care. Egon had been the greatest comfort you’d had in the last several nights.

“Of course.” He smiles, a small blush creeping onto his cheeks. The hug is awkward at first, but you both relax into it. He’s warm and his pajama shirt is soft. While Egon’s presence is always calming, his steady breathing and heartbeat do wonders to bring you back to a more relaxed state. He begins to rub your back. “We’ll get to the bottom of this and just remember you’re not alone.”

————————————————————————

The next night you’d shown up to Egon’s lab as requested. You’re surprised to see he’s set up a cot with your favorite blankets and pillows. He was nothing if not observant.

“I gathered some things from your room in an effort to make you more comfortable.” He speaks, walking around the room, pressing buttons and moving things around.

“Thank you.” You smile. You sit down on the bed and Egon begins to fit wires to your forhead.

“May I?” He asks, gesturing to your chest.

“Um yes- yeah uh that’s okay.” You blush. Egon moves your shirt over and attaches wires over your heart. “I really appreciate you doing this.”

“Of course. It’s no problem, really. Do you need anything before you go to sleep? Can I get you a glass of water?” He asks.

“No, but can you explain how it’s gonna work again?” You lay down, attempting to get comfortable.

“While you’re asleep I should be able to see any changes in heart rate, breathing patterns, or brainwave activity. I can collect all the data I need and all you have to do is sleep.” He explains.

“Seems simple enough.” You give him a smile, despite your nerves.

Egon leaves the observation area and the lights dim. You close your eyes and fall asleep.

About 2 hours into the study Egon starts to notice a rapid elevation in heart rate and your breathing becomes heavier and inconsistent. He scribbled down notes, watching your brainwave patterns until you shoot up gasping. You start to pull at the wires attached to you, not remembering why they’re there. Egon enters the room with his journal and pen in hand. He approaches your bed.

“You’re okay. You’re in my lab, remember? I have to say that was quite interesting. How long did it feel like you were stuck in that nightmare?” He asks.

“Uh I- I don’t know, like hours?” You debate, trying to catch your breath.

“You were asleep for about 2 hours, but you only entered REM state about 15 minutes ago, which is when you started dreaming.” He takes down more notes.

“Only 15 minutes?” You ask, your voice and body shakey. Egon pulls a chair up to sit next to you. He lays his journal on your bed and takes your hand in his. He begins to feel your pulse. You instantly start to calm by his touch. He’s observant of this. He decides to keep holding your hand even after he’s done checking your pulse in an effort to keep you calm. He writes with one hand and holds your hand with the other.

“Can you tell me a bit about the dream?” He asks.

“I was alone in the firehouse and the containment unit broke and I was being chased by a demon. I woke myself up before it caught me.” He gives you a look. On one hand he feels bad that you were so scared, but on the other hand he’s intrigued.

“How did you wake yourself up?” He asks.

“I have like this thing I do if I need to escape a dream. I feel like I’m pushing and pulling and clawing my way out of reality, like I’m trying to swim through molasses until I wake up.” You tell him.

“That’s amazing. From my end your adrenaline spiked enormously. I didn’t realize you were doing that on purpose.” He scribbles down some more notes.

“Yeah. I guess that’s a thing I do.” You say awkwardly. “Did you get anything useful?” You ask.

“Yes, but I’ll have to run more tests throughout the week.” He closes his journal, turning to you. He realizes he’s still holding your hand. He doesn’t let go. He was so excited by the scientific aspects of the experiment he forgot why he was doing this in the first place. “We’re going to figure this out, but until then I’m here.” He smiles at you, giving you a look of sympathy.

————————————————————————

The next two nights went similarly to the first one. You would have nightmare and Egon would remind you everything was okay before sitting down next to you to take notes as you recounted the dream. Your dreams were often about being chased or not being able to save someone. You would usually use your emergency escape out of your dreams. Talking about your dreams helped. It gave you an outlet and it aided Egon’s studies. The two of you had fallen into a routine and it was starting to help.

Tonight was different. Egon watched as your heart rate spiked and your breathing patterns began to change. Your brain activity was off the charts. He knew you’d be up soon. He watched as you tried and failed to pull the emergency break. You begin to thrash in bed. He wonders why you haven’t woken up. He enters the room just in time for you to shoot up screaming and covered in sweat. You begin to hyperventilate, crying out. “Egon!” You cry for him. Tears start to stream down your face. He runs to your bed.

“It was just a dream. You’re okay. You’re safe. I’m here. Everything is okay, (Y/N).” Egon tries to keep his voice calm, but he speaks with urgency. He places his hands on your shoulders, trying to ground you. You can’t get your breathing under control.

“I- I couldn’t get out! I couldn’t get out! I was stuck and I couldn’t get out!” You’re speaking a mile a minute.

“(Y/N), look at me. You’re awake now. You’re safe. I won’t let anything hurt you. I need you to try to breathe with me. (Y/N), what’s three things that you can see?” He asks, trying to bring your focus back to reality.

“I can’t” You sob, unable to focus.

“Yes, you can. What’s three things you can see?” He repeats.

“I see your journal. It’s in the chair.” You try.

“Good that’s two things.” He smiles.

“Your pen is on the floor.” You continue.

“I dropped it when I rushed in to check on you. What’s two things you can hear?” He asks.

“The clock is ticking really loudly and- and I can hear… the heater is on.” You tell him, listening closely.

“Good. What’s one thing you can touch?” He asks.

“Can I touch you?” You ask, hesitantly.

“Yes, thank you for asking.” He smiles. You grab his hand, beginning to trace all the lines and wrinkles on it. You learn every detail of his fingerprints. Tracing the indents and following the patterns comforts you.

“Are you feeling a bit better?” He asks.

“Yeah. I’m sorry. I’m just having one of those moments where it’s hard to tell what’s real and what‘s fake. I woke up from a nightmare, but it was just another nightmare. I don’t know if I’ve ever had a dream inside of a dream before. I thought that was just in movies.” You keep tracing his hand.

“No, it’s real unfortunately, but so am I and so are you. This is real.” He gestures between you. Part of himself means that the two of you are real and your interaction is real, but another part of him meant something different. The care you have for each other is real too, very real.

“I hate that I’m still tired. I don’t wanna go back to sleep, but I know I have to.” You sigh.

“Would it make you feel better if I stayed in here with you?” He asks. While he’d usually be too awkward to ask this, his solution is based in science. All of his research points to his presence being a comfort. This gave him more confidence.

“Are you sure you don’t mind?” You hope you’re not being an inconvenience.

“If I minded I wouldn’t have offered. I want you to feel like you’re not alone.” He gives your hand a squeeze.

“I think that would help me a lot actually.” You start to shift, laying back down in bed. Egon gets up to turn the light back off, kicking off his shoes and lab coat before getting back into bed with you.

“I figured it might.” He smiles. He always loved when his scientific theories were proven right, especially one that benefited both of you so much. It brought both of you comfort to be in each other’s arms. Egon’s presence was enough for you to sleep soundly for the rest of the night and he was happy to know that you felt safe and calm. Even if it was only a temporary solution to your problems, it was still a pretty damn good solution.

“Goodnight, Egon.”

“Goodnight, (Y/N).”

#egon spengler oneshot #egon spengler fanfiction #egon spengler imagines #egon spengler fanfic #egon spengler x reader #egon spengler #harold ramis #Harold Ramis fanfiction #Harold Ramis fanfic #ghostbusters #ghostbusters oneshot #ghostbusters x reader #ghostbusters imagine #ghostbusters fanfic #ghostbusters fanfiction

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saltymongoose · 1 year

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Hi coming in with another silly idea Imagine that the Player is in early Nevada, and around the time Nexus is supposed to fall they fall into a type of coma. Jeb goes through with his plan (painfully without the player by his side), Hofnarr turns into Tricky with his last thoughts begging for the Player to come back. Phobos' fight being much more easy due to the fact he thinks his god abandoned him. Then the Player comes back like "hey sorry about that" and Jeb starts wailing while Tricky goes YIPPEE and runs around them like an excited dog.

Why is everything you draw so cute omg 😭, everyone is so adorable here. It's honestly a little weird to see the Employers look so huggable, I love it.

To actually get into the scenario though, my thoughts on this are far too long to make it into a normal ask response, so you're getting some sort of unofficial hcs instead lol. Enjoy!

<The Player Falls into a Coma before the Fall> ft. Jebus, Hofnarr/Tricky, the Employers & Phobos

(TW: Yandere)

There was no warning for your sudden coma whatsoever. At most, you felt a tad more exhausted than usual at the end of the day, but this can be attributed to many different things, so of course you wouldn't worry about it. Neither would anyone else either, for that matter.

You had absolutely no idea that when you slowly fell asleep that night, you wouldn't be waking up again for a very long time.

It certainly wouldn’t take long for those you know to find out about your condition either. For one, Hofnarr and Jeb would want to recap their plan with you before going through with it, so naturally they stopped by for that. However, they find you unconscious and completely unresponsive to their every attempt to wake you. To make matters worse, there isn't a sign that you'd been awake at all in the past few days; the buildup of dust on your furniture and the letters in your mailbox shows as much.

Despite their worry, they’d eventually have to leave your side, if only to get more medical supplies and other things to help you. This opens up a window for the others in your life to finally take action, those being the Employers.

The shadowy figures had been keeping tabs on you all the time, so when you just didn't wake up, they would probably be the first to know - even if their actions came second to the Nexus Scientist's.

(You didn’t send the Deliberator a “good morning” text and he started panicking. What could possibly be so bad that you didn't speak to him? A cursory call to the worried AAHW agents the Auditor had sent to tail you was proof enough that you'd deviated from your usual schedule, and you weren't the type to ever be late.)

They were quick to take you from your home and to a more secret place, so that they could keep close observation over you.

Honestly, despite how much the Employers might brag about knowing you better than anyone else (a privilege they gained from being the first to realize your existence), they truly know little about your anatomy. However, they can tell that sleeping for full days isn't normal at all, judging by your previous behavior.

They're also far too stubborn to ask any other mortals for help as well, so they simply resigned to try to help you themselves while keeping you safe with them. They couldn't do much else, so hopefully you'd understand that once you awoke in a strange place.

Nevada rots without your guidance and the grunts you were close to were left reeling by this (unintentional) abandonment you committed.

Phobos loses much of his drive due to his own emotional frailty as he grappled with his uncharacteristic self-doubt and questioning. As it happens, this also makes him more zealous as well. In his last moments, he has a second wind, believing that if he just fights hard enough, you might decide to come back and help him in his battle against Christoff. (But you don't. You couldn't.)

Jebus' feelings are surprisingly parallel to the Director's in terms of worship and near zealotry. Except, he believes it might be his fault that you left, which only increases the fervor he has to complete his plans. It will be painful without you there, but this agony is his repentance for the sins which he has wronged you with. It is only through this that he believes you might show your presence once more, even if it’s not now.

Unfortunately, Hofnarr's transformation into Tricky was just as painful as it would be otherwise, and the pain of abandonment just makes it worse. Funny, how the pictures taken of you with him and Christoff were miraculously unscathed within Hofnarr's lab even after Tricky came to be. The zombified clown must have found some value in them, even if he couldn’t remember the complete reason why he felt so warm when he looked at them.

Of course, you did actually awaken eventually. You had no idea how much time had passed when you woke up, so seeing the Employers look so uncharacteristically worried when you woke up was really odd. You honestly think they’d be weepy if they had the ability to cry.

You really didn’t know how to react to the news that you’d essentially been in a coma for thirty years. Your first course of action is to find Jeb and Tricky to find out what actually happened since you feared your early appearance might’ve had an impact on the timeline regarding Nevada’s fall. This leads to very different reactions.

Jeb isn't one to typically show much vulnerability, but seeing you again completely shatters those walls he's kept up for so long. At first, he thinks you're just a hallucination; the culmination of all the longing he has for you finally taking its toll on his broken mind as almost a cruel joke.

The first words he speaks to you after thirty years is a short, "You're not real", said as more of an insistence to himself than anything. But when he comes closer and you don’t disappear, and he reaches out a trembling hand to rest lightly on your shoulder, and you stay, he just breaks. The warmth of your form washes over him like it used to, and suddenly he feels an uncomfortable tightness well up in his throat as tears gather in his eyes.

You reach up to hold his taller form closer to you, sinking to the ground with him as he buries his face into your neck and sobs. His hold on you is soft, and his hands are still shaky; he's holding you like he's scared of shattering you, and he only gets weaker when you whisper soothing words and apologies to him.

Compared to Jebus, your meeting with Tricky was a lot more upbeat. It’s probably because he was spared much of the reflection and sorrow that Jeb went through due to his rather unstable mental state, but that didn’t stop him from somehow recognizing you. It’s almost like a switch flipped in his mind, and he went from violently slamming his sign into some poor grunt's face to freezing at the sight of your face.

He then tosses the sign away and almost launches himself at you to envelop you in a tight bear hug, screaming excitedly while you grin back rather tiredly. (You hope your eardrums will be okay after this.) But in the next second, he's whirling away from you, flailing his hands as he continues to talk.

It’s like being greeted by your dog after being away for months; he never stops moving or asking hurried questions about where you’ve been, intermittent with little words about how much he’s missed you.

Both Jeb and Tricky are very clingy after this. Even if they don't get along now, they're not willing to let you leave their sides after this, especially not when you go to sleep. (What if you fall into a coma again? Someone has to be there to take care of you.)

Deep down, they also have a striking suspicion that someone was behind your coma. They didn't know who exactly, but there was no other explanation to them than this. How else would you, Nevada's most powerful being, fall into such a state?

(In the near future, when you come across Hank and the others, let's just say that your scientists won't be deterred from leaving your side quite so easily. You'd been gone for thirty years, so you should only expect their companionship to remain more permanent for the coming years.)

#the Player looks very tired which is a vibe #idk what this answer is exactly but I hope it's satisfactory lol #ask #distressedwalnut #mutuals ✨#other's art #fav #it's about gd time #tw: yandere #madness combat x reader

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wordsbyrian · 1 year

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Tired - Claudia Pina x Reader

Summary: R has been super tired recently and has taken to falling asleep in places they definitely shouldn't

A/N: Believe it or not I started this fic before my recent bout of insomnia, wild. Also, it's not perfect but I wanted to get it out before midnight, I can edit it later.

If there is one thing that your teammates always made fun of you for, it is definitely your ability to fall asleep any and everywhere.

It’s a talent really and while you would love to lie and say that you don’t mean to but sometimes, it is 100 percent on purpose.

Right now it is not one of those times.

You’re stumbling through the airport with your teammates on your way to Sevilla to face Betis. Your movement resembles a zombie's, and you’re sure it’s probably equal parts amusing and worrying.

The trance of your half-asleep state is broken by the sound of your name being called by multiple people.

“Hmm,” you respond, lifting your head to look at the group of women in front of you.

“Did you get any sleep last night,” Aitana asks.

You nod.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m certain,” you lie, trying to stand up straighter, “You know airports make me tired.”

Your sister doesn’t look very convinced but you shoot her one of your usual mischievous smiles before stealing Clàudia’s coffee from her hand and taking a sip.

That does, of course, earn you a pout from your girlfriend but you just grin at her, placing a kiss on the side of her head before taking another sip.

Those two sips of coffee aren’t enough to keep you awake for the flight and you find yourself slumped against the window before the plane even takes off.

One would think that you’d be fine after taking a nap on the flight but that’s not what happened.

You barely woke up enough to get from the plane to the bus and once there you slipped on a pair of noise-canceling headphones and promptly went back to sleep.

The next time the team finds you sleeping somewhere you shouldn’t be is when they enter the locker room for MD-1 training before your next home game.

You’d had an early meeting with some of the training staff and instead of wasting time going home and coming back, you decided to catch a quick nap in the locker room.

It had seemed like a good idea until right now as the volume of the room steadily increased. Maybe you should’ve chosen one of the training rooms instead.

There are a couple of attempts from the older players to shush the rowdy ones but if anything it just makes them get louder.

Barely managing to keep from sighing, you open your eyes and sit up.

You’re not surprised by what you first see, the chaos of the locker room is something you are very familiar with. Most of the time you’re one of the people causing problems or trying to get everyone to laugh.

It’s what you hear that has you ready to go back to sleep.

Before you even have a chance to fully orient yourself, you hear Mariona shout, “Tough luck Pina! Looks like Sleeping Beauty didn’t need a kiss to wake up this time.”

“Mario, don’t be jealous because the girl you want to kiss is in London,” you respond making everyone turn to face you.

Somewhere off to the side, you hear someone mumbling about how you’re incredibly grumpy for someone who just took a nap.

But you ignore them in favor of grabbing your cleats and training jacket before heading out to the field, it always takes you to warm up when you have to worry about waking up at the same time.

Your neverending exhaustion continues to draw attention and it comes to a head during a night out.

You’re sitting in the booth you ad the girls have claimed with your head tilted back and eyes closed.

Unaware of how long you’ve been sitting like that, you jump when you hear something being placed on the table. The sound is immediately followed by the feeling of someone's foot brushing yours as someone takes a seat across from you.

Sitting up, you’re greeted by the sight of Mapi pushing a beer across the table toward you.

Not bothering to ask any questions, you grab the glass and take a couple of sips from it.

“I know you fall asleep everywhere but this is public even for you,” she says.

“I wasn’t sleeping,” you tell her, ‘just taking a moment to myself.”

Your words don’t even sound believable to your own ears and based on the look Mapi is giving you she isn’t convinced either.

“You should work on your lying face for when Pina gets over here and asks what’s wrong with you,” she says, “Might also want to perk up because she is definitely going to pull you out to dance with her.”

Taking a deep breath, you sit up a little further simultaneously running a hand down your face before finishing off your beer.

“Better,” you ask, hoping that small smile you put on doesn’t look too forced.

“It’s gonna have to work because here she comes.”

You have less than 5 seconds to pull yourself a little more together before Clàudia drops into your lap.

“Hola cariño,” she says as you shift trying to make the position more comfortable for the both of you.

Once you’re comfortable enough, you bury your face in the back of her shoulder before mumbling a greeting back.

Sitting there, with your girlfriend in your arms, it's like everyone else has suddenly vanished. For the first time in a couple of weeks, it doesn’t feel like your brain is trying to burst its way out of your skull.

It’s amazing.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t last very long because Mapi decides to remind you both of her presence.

“Cool so fuck me then,” she says. “You guys aren’t fun to be around when you’re being gross.”

Lifting your head slightly eyes barely showing from behind Pina’s shoulder, you shoot her the meanest glare you can muster before speaking.

“Do you want me to tell Clàudia about what happened when I went to play FIFA at your apartment last week,” you ask, “or are we both going to behave ourselves.”

You watch as Mapi leans forward slightly, trying to call your bluff with her eyes.

Unwilling to give in, you continue to glare at her before smirking and opening your mouth as though to tell the woman on your lap what happened.

“Alright fine,” she groans, sitting back. “Asshole.”

“Ha.”

“If the two of you are finished with whatever that was,” Clàudia begins, turning slightly to face you. “Will you come dance with me?”

Barely refraining from rolling your eyes, you unwrap your arms from around her waist, allowing her to stand and subsequently allowing yourself to be pulled up and towards the dance floor.

Time passes and at the end of the night, you walk both Pina and Patri back to their apartment.

Now, you’re leaning against their door, fighting a losing battle as Pina tries to get you to come inside.

“Just come inside and stay the night,” PIna says, for what must be the tenth time. She’s also pouting at you, which is not making things any easier on you.

“I kind of just want to go back to my place tonight,” you explain, trying not to give in.

“Y/N,” she whines.

“Clàudia,” you say in the same tone.

The two of you continue in this vein before Patri gets sick of your bullshit.

“For fucks sake, will you just come in and cuddle her, Y/N/N,” she shouts from somewhere inside the apartment. “We all know that if you go home, you’d just play video games until you pass out anyway.”

With a groan and a roll of your eyes, you allow yourself to be pulled into the apartment.

30 minutes later, you’re in the familiar position of spooning Pina laying in the dark, enjoying the silence. For a moment you think she’s fallen asleep, her breathing is even but then she speaks, startling you slightly.

“Why didn’t you tell me you’ve been having problems sleeping?”

“Didn’t think it was a big deal,” you explain, “Nothing I could've done about it anyway, They were out of my ADHD medication, so I’ve been trying to wait it out.”

A beat of silence.

“How long?”

“Hmm?”

“How long have you not been on your meds,” she asks.

“Almost two weeks.”

There’s another pause as Pina takes the time to roll over in your arms.

You can’t see her face in the darkness but you can imagine the look she’s giving you. It’s probably a cross between frustrated, annoyed, and worried. You’ve been on the receiving end of that look more than a couple of times.

“Two weeks? We’ve played three matches in the last two weeks, how have you been functioning?”

“Been going on extra runs,” you reply, “It worked when I was a kid, figured it would help now. Besides sleep deprivation is the easiest symptom to deal with.”

“Y/N,” the way she says your name is far too soft. “Mi amor, that’s not healthy. You should’ve told someone, we could’ve helped you.”

“It’s not a big deal, I’m going to pick up my prescription tomorrow after practice.”

“Y/N.”

“Clàudia.”

“Y/N.”

“Clàudia.”

A sharp pinch is delivered to your side.

“Ouch,” you gasp, barely resisting the urge to pinch her back. “Cariño, I’ve had ADHD my entire life, two weeks without my meds isn’t going to kill me.”

You both hear and feel your girlfriend sigh deeply before she places a kiss on your chin and turns back over, returning to her original position.

A few silent moments pass and you feel yourself beginning to drift off only for Pina again.

“Amor?”

“Hmm?”

“Promise you’ll let me know if you’re struggling, okay? You don’t have to solve all your problems alone.”

“Sí, lo prometo.”

#woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso x reader #espwnt imagine #espwnt x reader #claudia pina x reader #claudia pina imagine

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stupid-sloot-headcanons · 1 year

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Reiner's superiors noticing him pining for a Darling and deciding to use her as a way to keep him motivated. They'll convince/coerce/outright FORCE her to accept his advances and be with him as a sick kind of prize

The saddest part is that Reiner, underneath the delusions he likes to believe in, he knows that they're not with him willingly. And he loves them but...he doesn't care. He needs them, they're ALL he has. He'll come back to his quarters and practically tackle them in a hug, breathing in their scent and clutching them tight. His nightmares are less intense when they're in bed with him. The only reason he agrees to go on long missions is because he needs to do everything possible to keep them in his life, and that means being the best Warrior possible.

If they're from before he goes to Paradise, he'd keep dozens of little mementos of them while he's away: a locket with their picture and a few pieces of their hair, a handkerchief with their scent all over it, a stolen note with their handwriting he'd taken when he first stalked her. He's masturbated to all three of them while on away missions.

I think that while he's in Paradise, he'd insist that they stay on the ship docked at the coast with the crew for the months he'd be away--that way he can see them as soon as possible. If they're someone he falls in love with while in Paradise, he'd snatch them up and refuse to leave with Zeke and the others until they let him bring her.

Either way, the first time he's with her he's a desperate man and it SHOWS. His hands are shaking when he cups her cheek and starts to undress her, he's crying a little as he smiles and says such sweet, passionate, terrifying things to her while holding her down.

"I love you, I love you so much...I'd die for you. I'd KILL for you. I've done so much to keep you safe and close to me, and I'd do it all again in a heartbeat."

"Please, please don't cry! I promise I'm going to make you feel so good, we're gonna feel so good together. Smile for me."

"You look so cute when you're sleeping, y'know. I finally get to see it up close and not through your window."

"You know how I had that whole story in my head about being a Soldier, not a warrior? You were part of it; I'd fight the Titans, live to the end of the war, and then I'd settle down on a farm with you as my wife. Hehe...I even tried drawing up what your wedding dress could look like and learn to sew so I could make it myself. Once we're back in Marley, we'll get married for real."

"Your panties...fuck, they look so pretty. I always wanted to see what the pair I stole from you looked like when you were wearing them, instead of all folded up in your drawer."

#thots #tw: dubcon #tw: noncon #.reiner #yandere reiner #.aot #yandere aot #.myshit #fem darling

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roseapov · 7 months

Text

Freedom of choice

Venti/Barbatos x GN!Reader

The warning: Mentions of obsession, imprisioning in a sleep, manipulation, use of divine powers

Spoilers to Mondstadt Main Story

Povtober 2023, Day 8 [Masterlist]

Barbatos first met you, when Dvalin was corrupted by the Abyss. He was searching for his dragon friend to help him, when he saw another person, you. You were tending to dragons wounds and he seemed totally calm around you, unlike for the others where he acted hostile.

It immediately picked his interest, as he chose to hide and observe you for a little longer. He felt an invisible force drawing him to you, yet he decided to ignore it, to watch you longer whilst ignoring the painful sting in his heart.

When you entered the city for the first time, he planned your meeting to be as charming as possible, to lure you in and tell him all your secrets. The white pigeons surrounded him whilst he played his lyre, under a big statue of the Anemo Archon - Barbatos.

He instantly caught your eye, and he seemed to brighten even more for his crowd. After his performance he didn't wait for any applause like usual, but instead went straight to you.

You were so.. you, he never met someone like you before, so please, let him write a poem for you.

He quickly got charmed by you, firstly as a Barbatos and secondly as Venti.

Yet, he never told you about his feelings, no no, he wouldn't dare to. What if you would feel pressured to answer him and say yes, but don't even mean it? He can't have that, as a God of Freedom it's against his principles. That's why he found another solution.

As fast as he barged into your life, then as fast he made himself comfortable and at home, right by your side. You also couldn't help but start to feel comfortable around that goofy bard, which led you to trust him with all your heart, as he became your safe space.

But once you fell asleep on his lap, it was over. He wouldn't pressure you into doing anything, and yet he still created an alternative reality for you. A cage with the illusion of freedom, BUT it still had freedom, so everything was fine for him.

A reality, where you could do whatever you want, without the risk of being in danger. Despite the other people acting weird to you, you never really questioned it as Venti was always by your side, travelling the world with you, averting your attention from everyone else.

You never got bothered by your fuzzy memories, not when you have a companion who can make you feel better in an instant.

He never told you, yet he used his divine powers to stop your time, and took your consciousness into a place that never met the threats of the time.

When you finally fell in love with him, and was willing to stay with him forever only then he ended the sleep, but in a way that you never knew you were in a sleep at all.

He manipulated you and the situation into making you believe that yesterday you confessed to him in the Stormterror's lair, and he graciously accepted it. You both were on your way home, and this is where playing with this fake reality ended.

When you woke up in your bed in the next morning, you were in a real world again, but it's not like you knew about it anyway.

Venti looked just the same as 'yesterday', but why did everyone else look much older? Did you missed something? Why does the Mondstadt look different? You didn't know, but thinking about it was giving you deadly migraines.

Your new lover was now happily comforting and massaging you, knowing that you chose him from everyone else with your own freedom of choice.

He's so glad you decided to offer him all your freedom, to him, to your God. Oh you didn't? Not yet then.

What was he mumbling about? Oh, don't mind it, it wasn't important anyway.

First fic with Genshin Impact characters in Povtober 2023 AND in total. That's a great feat Venti💚 It was really hard to find his pic that would show his personality as both Venti and Barbatos, but I think I managed it well💚 If this work have any grammar mistakes, I'm going to fix them this weekend, See you soon 🔜

~roseapov

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go-learn-esperanto · 1 year

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Watchers - Evo, ATUS and Fandom

It's very common to see people blame ATUS for the way the fandom sees the watchers now but... How much did it actually come from there?

Wings (and statues):

Although the depiction of Watchers specifically having wings does exist in ATUS it's very clearly originated from Evo itself as Grian was once left a statue of what Grian called at the time "an angel lady" who had wings Grian was tasked with burning down (they represented his greed)

You can see the EVO symbol in glass above the statue.

Even though the statue isn't exactly stated as representing a Watcher it's not really stretch, specially since the statue appears to have a obsidian staff, the same obsidian the Watchers used to cover Grian's chests.

Puzzles and riddles

Evo originated. All it's presence in ATUS comes directly from Evo. The only change might be the inclusion of stained glass windows depicting Watchers. Although I wouldn't jump to conclusions if someone right now decided to draw Watcher Grian stained glass art as it's a very common trope in general with God-like beings. Very much brought by Catholic representations if angels, saints, Jesus and the likes.

Masks

This one is one I can safely say, if you see fanart like this with a mask that isn't see through with the Evo symbol it almost certainly came from ATUS. Variants with a blindfold instead of mask might be inspired by this too. Even if the artist isn't exactly aware.

Eyes

Very nuanced topic. For startersthe name Watchers automatically inspires the idea of eyes. Of being watched too. But there's more options.

Evo never explicitly represents the Watchers with eyes.

ATUS does it a little bit. At one time when one of the masks is taken from a Watcher (that isn't Grian) they're face is shown to have a lot of eyes. However this isn't the full "wings and whole body are full of wings". Not even "Void with eyes" you now see a lot too in fandom.

I have multiple theories. The most obvious is Biblical accurate angels. Lots of wings, circles, eyes in the whole body, these are almost certainly angel originated.

Now the idea of being able to watch everything could've come from a lot of places. Even some Magnus Archives influence can be here (even if some minimal)

I will say the Watcher in ATUS are a bit disappointing in the "all seeing" department. They can sense some things but they aren't that powerful or at least scary with that.

Controlling worlds

Evo originated as the Watchers gave clues to the players so they find portals to the next updates + the puzzles + gifts and punishments. They were very much in control

Purple

Evo. From the literal Minecraft portals to the Evo icon it was very much present the whole time.

Powers

ATUS makes use of some powers like telekinesis and the like. There is even some mention to being able to use blocks that aren't allowed/present.

The telekinesis part is very much an ATUS thing even though again - if someone is going to give powers the ability to magically move objects would be the first choice.

The part of bloks that aren't accessable to a normal player are more nuanced. In Evo the Watcher did build structures with obsidian and bedrock which are either extremely tasking to get or impossible so the grounds for that are very much there.

The ability to show up in dreams is present in ATUS but considering Taurtis' lore in Evo I'm not surprised it was inspired by that. It's not the same as the Watchers never appeared in Taurtis' dreams but Taurtis did miss going through the portal because he was sleeping and woke up to seeing everything purple with a portal animationor even more likely: the ATUS part came from the angels showing in people's dreams in the bible so again - might be in ATUS but it doesn't mean the people who write / draw stuff with it took it from there.

The Watchers destroyed Evo

Surprisingly, Evo based. As someone reminded me well, after Grian left the Watchers threw a meteor at the Property Police I believe. This leads to

Watchers are Evil

Depends of who you watch. Grian's playthings gives room for doubt. They give gifts and punish. They seem neutral at least. You could argue though that a lot of Grian's punishments were deserved. They were because Grian basically liked to prak and blow up other people's stuff.

They can be about platful as I saw someone describe them once.

Also the modification of the end poem, the one that reveals Grian turns into a Watcher himself, is quite fond.

Martyn and Jimmy on the other hand play the Watchers as more evil even in Evo. As they are more connected with the Listeners and the Listeners oppose the Watchers.

In ATUS they are shown as feigning compassion and being very manipulative.

But if you follow Last Life canon they are also shown as manipulators.

+ In Grian's lore specifically they are canonically a representation of the viwers (you and me) but this has seemed to change in Jimmy and Martyn's lore.

So I'd say ATUS made popular the "Grian was taken by the Watchers and they were awful" but the truth is that there was some ground to that already.

Watchers came from the void

Not specific stated in either Evo or ATUS actually. I don't think we ever really know where the Watchers exist in Evo but in ATUS they are from (a special kind of) the End... But there's also a logical reason for it.

Elytras and all the obsidian. And in Evo Grian got turned into a Watcher after he fought the ender dragon and used the end portal.

The idea of the void most likely comes from the void that surrounds the End.

Watchers are eldritch abominations:

Well, the Watchers in Evo don't have a canon physical appearance and in ATUS they are quite tame. A bit taller than maybe the average human, have wings, use robes... But nothing too monstrous. They use staffs and magic weapons to fight.

The idea if cryptic abomination comes from somewhere else. Probably a mixture of Biblical accurate angels and maybe some other pop culture monsters.

Bird features

100% neither Evo nor ATUS. Recent development that came from the wings and Grian's association with birds in Hermitcraft.

Grian's Watcher name is Xelqua

Surprisingly not ATUS! And not Evo either! The name is from Grian's old YouTube name but I don't know where the idea was first introduced. It wasn't in ATUS though.

Conclusion:

Except maybe the masks almost all stuff, even if more elaborated in ATUS, all the stuff as either came from Evo itself or even been inspired from something else (most likely biblical accurate angels). In fact I believe the stiff in ATUS mostly came from biical accurate angels too or just normal angels (long robes, stained glass windows)

So I think accusing all fandom depictions of the Watchers as all coming from ATUS is very silly. ATUS might have popularised the appearance of Watchers in Hermitcraft and in a way to have some Grian angst but it definitely isn't all there is to Watcher depictions. Besides that other fics have come and did things differently.

For exemple I have already read two fivs where Grian (a watcher) is a monster in the boaten hole. Yes. The idea he was like transformed into whatever he is by the Watchers might be very loosely be based on ATUS (although Watcher Grian in ATUS was never an eldritch being. He was just like a person with wings and a mask and he was still himself and capable of communicating) which in turn came from Evo but it's already very far removed from it.

Fandom changes. You might want people to watch Evo to take their own conclusions and you might ask for more variety but saying ATUS is the sole responsible for the state of fanon Watcher Grian is just false.

#mcyt #watcher grian #evo smp #the watchers #and the universe shifts #atus

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