#it's been months though. i wonder how far they got and if they're still going | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hangmanssunnies · 4 months

Text

The Hangman Special

Summary: On a night out with your friends at a fancy cocktail bar, you are just trying to keep your head down and ignore the girl that your ex cheated on you with. The night only seems like it's going to get worse when you are dared to kiss a stranger at the bar. However, it seems like the odds might finally be in your favor when you notice a familiar set of broad shoulders. If you can be convincing, you think you might just be able to get your brother's friend Jake "Hangman" Seresin to help you out with your little problem.

Pairings: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Word count: 7k

AO3 Link

Warnings: 18+ only, kissing, hot and heavy make-outs, exs, truth or dare, bad friends.

Author's note: Dreaming about kissing Jake in a bar. Thanks to everyone who looked at earlier drafts of this. I hope you enjoy this if you take a chance to read. My inbox is always open if you want to let me know your thoughts. Reblogs with your thoughts, opinions, and tags are gold to me. I love reading through them.

The bar is buzzing with the loud chatter of patrons, the clinking of glasses, and the rhythmic beat of music. You are sitting at a corner table with your friends, a group with an eclectic mix of personalities. You are known for being more on the shy and reserved side, but tonight, you are even more withdrawn than usual. No one had mentioned that Tassie had also been invited to the evening's hang out at the bar. An oversight you felt was probably intentional since everyone knew Tassie had started dating your ex only a week after your breakup. She went so far as to post a picture of them together on her Instagram. It had been a few months since that happened, and until now, you had managed to avoid running into her. However, it seemed like luck had run out.

"Hey, I've got an idea that would spice up the night," Cece says after the first round of drinks. She is one of your bold and outspoken friends, and you aren't sure you like how she is eyeing you with a mischievous glint. "Let's play truth or dare."

The whole group groans at the suggestion, and one of your friends vaguely wonders if you're all still in middle school playing that kind of game. Despite the initial lack of enthusiasm, after another round of drinks, the group is laughing and entrenched in the game.

When Cece sings your name when she finishes her turn, you are nervous by the sly smile she is wearing as she formulates an option for you when you hesitantly concede to doing a dare. "You're the only one of us still single, so I dare you to go over to the bar and give somebody a kiss."

"What?!"

"Just a quick one, nothing too scandalous," Cece says placatingly. "Come on, live a little! It's just a bit of fun. What's the worst that could happen?"

"I bet they won't do it. They're too chicken for this kind of thing, not one to step out of their comfort zone," Tassie says. It makes your blood freeze in your veins because you know those words. You have heard that criticism thrown at you in the past, but not from her, from your ex.

Your eyes narrow at her, and you ask, "Too chicken? Seriously?"

"Yeah. Please, prove us wrong. Show us you can do something spontaneous," Tassie taunts, grinning. You feel a surge of defiance welling up. Even though you're reserved, you are not one to back down from a challenge, especially not when the woman who cheated with your boyfriend is acting like you're the one who should be ashamed. Acting like she is better than you.

"Fine, watch this," You declare, feeling hot with a mixture of embarrassment and determination. As you stand up, your friends exchange amused glances, convinced that you are about to back out of the dare.

With absolutely no intention of backing down, though, you scan the bar. After a moment of examination your heart soars because you realize you have this dare in the bag. You have the advantage even, because there is a familiar tall, broad-shouldered blonde at the bar that you know all too well. Jake Seresin, or Hangman, is one of your brother's best friends, and he is looking just as delectable tonight as he always does. The group would undeniably be impressed with you kissing someone so handsome, and you knew one way or another you could convince Jake to help you out.

"Cece, I'll even let you pick since you made the dare. Point out the hottest man in the bar, and I'll kiss him." You say confidently. There is no doubt that Jake is the most attractive person there, and he is just Cece's type, too. She falls right into what you want, pointing Hangman out for you. The rest of your friend group hoots, making even more comments that you aren't going to follow through with the dare and approach someone who is that drop-dead gorgeous.

Ignoring their taunts, you square your shoulders and walk with as much confidence as you can summon into sashaying across the bar. Putting mental effort into trying to project some form of hotness onto yourself not only for the confidence boost but also the bit of spite burning in you.

Reaching the bartop area, the hesitation starts to set in as you admire Jake's profile. He is sitting on a bar stool leaning against the counter, patiently waiting for the bartender in the crowd that is starting to grow. Taking one last breath to steady yourself, you reach out and delicately set a hand on his bulging bicep.

"Hangman!" You say brightly as if you're surprised to have run into him. Jake turns to face you at your touch, and an easy wide grin spreads across his face.

"Fancy seeing you here, my dear! How are you?" He asks as his eyes trace you slowly from head to toe and back again, the grin on his face not slipping once.

"Oh, I’m fine, and I am so glad I ran into you."

"Most people are," Jake says, winking at you. You are nearly distracted by his handsome face and flirty tone. He looks like he has put on even more muscle since you saw him last. The green button-down he is wearing appears close to bursting at the seams with how it clings to him. "So, what have you been up to these days?"

"Are you still single?" You blurt quickly, ignoring his question, not wanting to lose your steam.

"Yes, Ma'am. Last I checked. Why?"

"Perfect, can you do me a huge favor?" You ask.

"I'm always happy to help out a friend," Jake says, sounding increasingly suspicious. The smile hasn't dropped from his face, but his eyes have narrowed slightly, examining you.

Quickly standing on your tip toes, you loop an arm around Jake's neck, appreciating that he is sitting on a stool, helping level your height difference. Wasting no time, you pull him down to meet you in a quick kiss. Once his lips brush yours, you let go of him, stepping back, not even taking a moment to savor the feeling or enjoy having Jake this close.

With your mission accomplished, you have every intention of making a hasty retreat back to your friends and hoping that you will be able to forget this. You are going to erase knowing you've kissed Jake Seresin from your brain, and then the next time you see him, you're going to pretend this fiasco never happened. It feels like the best and only course of action for you to take.

However, you don't even get to make a full step away from Jake before large hands and thick arms circle around your waist, pulling you back towards him. He tugs until you are standing between his spread thighs, his hands maintaining their position on your waist.

"Woah now, where do you think you're going?" He asks, eyes darting around your face, studying you closely.

Embarrassment at having to explain your actions rushes through you, turning your stomach and overriding or maybe enhancing the butterflies there. You glance away from Jake towards your friends and see them watching with rapt attention. Then his thumb moves in a slow soothing circle, drawing you back towards him.

"I'm sorry! My friends dared me to kiss someone at the bar, and when I saw you, well, I knew it wasn't a lost cause because you're not a complete stranger."

You refuse to believe that the frown that flashes on Jake's face is one of disappointment. However, it's hard to ignore when his eyebrows are scrunched together, and his hands are so warm you feel it bleeding through your clothing.

"You could at least buy someone a drink before stealing a kiss, you know. That's just some common decency."

"I'm so sorry, Jake," you apologize again. "Let me buy you a beer for your troubles."

"Naw, you don't got to."

"Well, now I have to because you made me feel bad," you say, waving your arm to try and flag down a bartender.

"I didn't take you for one to just kiss someone on a dare," he says conversationally. You try not to wriggle uncomfortably in his hold, but without even trying, he seems to have pulled you even closer.

"I normally wouldn't be," you agree. "But the girl who I highly suspect of cheating with my ex while we were still together is here. I'm sure she thinks she's better than me and that I'm a boring prude."

"She clearly has never been around when you drink tequila," Jake laughs. You can't believe he would still remember the camping trip from years ago, where you were drinking tequila. Definitely notable because it was probably the last time you had dared have any of the liquor.

"Can you please forget about that? And tonight, too?" You request. Jake pretends to think it over, humming lightly before shaking his head.

"Sorry, no can do. It's already burned into my eidetic memory." You huff at his response, avoiding eye contact with him to try and catch sight of the bartender again. "You know, if you just asked me first, I would have given you the friends and family discount."

"And what is that?"

"Pretty similar to buy one get one free," he says, his voice dropping a little lower. Your mouth falls open in surprise, but you can't find any words. "Could have given you more than a quick peck, something that would really wow your friends."

Trying very hard not to imagine what kind of kiss Jake would consider wowing, you decide to deflect. Jokingly saying, "Didn't think you were from one of those kinda southern states. Do you make a habit of kissing family members?"

Jake throws his head back and laughs full-bellied at you. "The friends and family of my friends discount then," he amends.

"I already hate being in this situation. I don't want more of a pity handout than I've already taken."

"Darlin," he sighs, shaking his head at you. "I would have even given you the Hangman special. Which is a deal, bargain, and steal. Comes with a kiss that's guaranteed to impress friends, people who cheated with your atrocious ex, everyone in this bar, and has even been known to, on occasion, inspire a standing ovation."

"Ha.Ha. You're so funny," you say dryly, rolling your eyes.

"I am, thank you for noticing," Jake says. "However, I think you deserve that kind of kiss to prove a point to your friends over there."

"They didn't even think I would be able to make it over here to talk to you." You admit to him, glancing over at your friends again, a little displeased that they are still obviously observing your interaction.

"That them over there?" He asks, following the direction you're looking. You hum in acknowledgment. "Which one's the cheater?" He breathes, his lips ghosting the shell of your ear, sending a shudder down your spine.

You describe Tassie a bit to him, finding yourself shifting closer into his embrace, enjoying how he is somehow able to help most of the chaotic bar disappear from your senses. It's hard to think about the noise or the increasing number of people starting to press in when Jake's touching you. When he picks out who she is, Jake grunts a little. He lowers his face and nearly kisses your neck over the pulse point. His hot breath tickles the spot, causing shivers again as he declares, "I don't see the appeal."

"Wish my ex felt that way," you sigh.

"Fuck him," Jake says with conviction. Drawing a bit back from you to make eye contact again. His green eyes are clear, and in the dimmed mood light around you, they seem to shine even brighter than usual.

"You sure you don't mind me having kissed you to prove a point?"

"My dear," he laughs like you told him a funny joke. "I can't imagine a situation where I would mind you kissing me. Let alone one where I get to help you out."

Sliding your hand up his chest to casually rest on his shoulder, you wonder, "Is the Hangman Special still available?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Guaranteed to be wowing?" You check.

"Got a warranty for you and everything," Jake says lowly.

Your hand curls around Jake's neck again, and you attempt to tug him closer to you. He doesn't even budge, though. One of his hands slowly traces up your side from your waist until he is cupping your cheek. Then Jake leans close, his breath ghosting over your lips, where he lingers for a moment. Your eyes flutter closed, and as soon as they do, his lips press to yours. This time, it's not a quick peck.

He is slow and deliberate in how he kisses you. Tilting his head to the side to get a slightly better angle, Jake uses his hand on your face to urge your lips to align better with his. Pliable to his touch, you open your mouth to him, seeking even more, and rewarded when Jake's tongue brushes against your own. You never doubted that Jake would be a good kisser, but knowing firsthand is something you know you won't be able to erase from your memory. When the kiss starts to border on indecent, he pulls away.

You linger in the moment, keeping your eyes closed until your heart doesn't feel like it's going to burst from your chest. While you are in that limbo spot, his thumb slowly strokes your cheekbone. Sea glass green is the first thing you see when opening them again, Jake not making any effort to veil how he is admiring you. His lips are slightly pinker now than they just were, and you can't help but imagine how pink and swollen they would get if you had the opportunity to get this man alone on a couch.

Just as you consider requesting that he kiss you again, just to really really solidify how good you are to your friends, because obviously, three kisses are much better than the one they dared you to get, you are suddenly bumped from behind. The motion roughly shoves you against Jake's solid chest. Both his hands automatically return to your waist, tightening as he steadies you there. Glaring over your shoulder at whoever bumped you, he asks, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm okay," you breathe. Being this close to him, the woodsy scent of his cologne tickles your nose. And you suddenly wonder why exactly he is in this upscale cocktail bar dressed so nicely.

"I'm glad you decided to kiss me and not any of these other assholes," he mutters darkly, still glaring over your shoulder.

"Well, it wasn't really a choice." You reveal, which has his eyes snapping back to you in an instant and a frown pulling at his lips. One of his thumbs that's resumed making circles on your waist stops, and the other falls off your waist entirely now. He doesn't move otherwise, but his presence feels less consuming. Tersely, he responds, "I see."

"I may have skewed the odds. Told my friends to pick the hottest man they could find. What would you know? They picked you." You explain quickly.

"That's some good luck on your part."

"It wasn't luck, not really."

"How do you mean?" He wonders.

"I knew they would pick you."

"What made you so confident?"

"Because, Jake, you are, hands down, the most attractive person here," you reveal to him shyly. Your fingers curling into his silky shirt, where they have found themselves on his chest after being pushed.

"See now, I don't think that's true," he says, his eyebrows pulling together. The frown is gone though, the edges of his lips quirking up again.

"Oh please, Jake. Do not pretend you don't know how handsome you are."

"I'm aware. However, that doesn't change the fact that you're the most attractive person in this bar tonight."

"You're a flirt," you accuse him.

"I am," he agrees with no argument. "But that don't make me dishonest or mean I'm not genuine. I haven't been flirting with you just for the sake of it."

Warmth blooms in your center at his words, and you nearly forget all about trying to escape away from him. Right now, you just want to get closer, as close as he will let you. However, you are pulled out of the fantasy when you look away from Jake's intense gaze to see your friends and how most of the table seems shocked and scandalized. Wryly, you notice Cece giving you two thumbs up. It's like you could almost forget that this was just him being flirty and imagine he was kissing you for more than just helping prove a point. "Well, I appreciate your help with the Hangman Special. I know they will all be impressed and jealous when I head back over there."

"Now, wait a moment. You can't just sneak away. The Hangman Special not only comes with mind-blowing kisses but also a free night out, all expenses paid, and dinner at any restaurant you choose. "

"You just give that away to any random person who asks?"

"No, only the pretty ones I've had my eye on for a long while," Jake says, his eyes intense, the hand still on your waist flexing tighter for a moment.

"You have?" You ask, completely surprised.

"Yes, Ma'am," he replies with no hesitation. Before you can respond, the bartender finally makes his way over to you two, asking for your order. Jake instantly defers to you before ordering, asking, "What do you want, my dear?"

"I thought I already told you I'm taking one of the Hangman specials." You say, after taking a moment to think it over. The grin that lights up Jake's face is sunny and bright, and if you weren't being supported by his strong body, you would have probably fallen over swooning.

Turning back to the bartender, Jake requests two bottles of water and both of your tabs. As you peek over his shoulder while he signs, you see the bill consists of just one beer, the water, and the two drinks you've had tonight.

"So you want the full experience?" He asks you when you've taken a sip of water, and he has downed half of his in the same time.

"From what I know about you, Jake, I don't think you're someone who does things by halves," you answer, fiddling with one of the buttons on his silky green shirt. Then you are pushing a bit on his chest, trying to step away. When you do, Jake's hands find themselves on your hips again pulling you closer to him.

"Where you going?" He pouts.

"I just need to grab my purse."

"Whatcha you need your purse for, sweetheart? Don't you know I ain't going to let you pay for nothing?" Jake drawls.

"I'm sure you want that to come off gentlemanly, but you're close to flirting with misogynistic." You say, playfully poking a finger into his chest.

"No." Grabbing your hand and bringing it up to his lips, Jake brushes a kiss on your pulse point, saying, "I know exactly who I'm flirting with, and that is you, my dear."

The laugh you let out is slightly involuntary, but it makes Jake look like he won a prize, so you can't be too displeased, especially not when he has resumed drawing circles on your skin, and it feels like some sort of hypnosis you never want to end. "I'll be right back, and you can keep flirting with me for as long as you like."

"That a promise?" Jake asks.

"Sure thing," you agree, but Jake still hasn't let go of you.

"Do you want some company?"

"You don't have to."

"Little worried you're going to try and sneak away," he admits.

"But Jake, I am sneaking away," you say in a fake whisper as if sharing a secret. "Sneaking away with you from my friends and this bar." It makes him smile again, just like you were hoping it would. "Just wait here for me. Okay?"

"Okay," he reluctantly agrees. Despite agreeing, the hold he has on your hand actually slightly tightens. "One more kiss?"

"I'm starting to get the feeling that you're always going to want one more kiss."

"You already know me so well," Jake grins. You press your lips against his again in a quick kiss, careful not to get caught up in it, before slipping out of his grasp. When free, you practically skip away from Jake to grab your things.

Arriving back to your friends, you're greeted with loud whooping and even some clapping thrown in. Cece is practically giggling as she says, "I really didn't think you had that in you."

"What were you talking about for so long?" Another one of the group asks.

"Was that kiss as hot as he is?" Someone else wonders, and then questions are coming from every direction before you can answer any of them.

"It was great, he's great." You manage to get in. When they start to flood you with even more questions, you cut them off. "I would love to talk all about it, but I'm sorry y'all, I'm actually just over here to grab my purse."

"There is no way you are leaving with that guy," Tassie says incredulously.

Irritation and anger flares up in you as you turn to glare at her. "Really, there's no way? And why would that be Tassie?"

"Come on," she says, clearly surprised that you've decided to call her out. "You're just not the kind of person to go home with someone from the bar, and he doesn't really seem like your type."

"I don't know how tall, handsome, funny, and phenomenal kisser could not be someone's type," You say harshly, snatching your purse and jacket from where you had been sitting.

"I'm just trying to look out for you," she responds sharply.

"I don't think that's true," you snap back.

"Hey now, why don't we all chill out," your friend Marv cuts in placatingly.

"Sorry to interrupt," a familiar southern drawl says from behind as a warm arm wraps around your shoulder. You nearly sag into Jake. The urge to explode on your friends, more specifically Tassie, instantly absorbed by his presence. "But I was promised I could take this one out on a date tonight."

"We can't let our friend just leave with a stranger," Cece says, and you turn to narrow your eyes at her, frowning that she is butting in when she is the one who set all this into motion in the first place.

"While I respect that, I don't think you get to make that decision," Jake says lightly and a lot nicer than you would have in that moment.

"You could be a crazy serial killer or something," Tassie says.

"While I am a killer, that's normally just how people describe me in bed," he answers in a flirty, exaggerated way. That has you nearly coughing, you suck in air so hard. He gently pats your back and continues on. "If you're really worried though, you can look me up on Instagram. That's at LT.H_ANGM_N. I hope y'all have a good night. I know we will be," Jake punctuates the sentence with a kiss to the side of your head.

Stuck between laughing and balking you glance around at everyone’s surprised faces at Jake’s boldness. You know exactly what Jake's last Instagram post was, having spent several minutes the other day debating whether you should like the shirtless picture of him on the beach.

"Are you ready, sweetheart?" Jake asks you, practically muttering the words in your ear. All he needs is your nod before he confidently starts to turn you and lead you out the door. You manage to throw your friends a small wave goodbye, but it only takes a few steps for them to be out of your mind.

"Did you drive?" Jake asks you as the fresh evening air rushes over you both.

"No.” And you’re glad you didn’t when it means Hangman will be driving you home.

"Good," he grins, "do you mind me driving?"

"I don't," you answer easily, completely content to follow Jake to wherever he is going to lead you.

He stops in front of a Jeep Gladiator, and you aren't overly surprised by his taste in vehicles. He goes to open the passenger side door for you, but you don't immediately take his offered hand to get inside. Instead, you tug it as you lean against the side of the truck. Jake follows the motion easily, not hesitating to bend down and mold his lips to yours.

Jake looms over you, one of his hands balancing his weight against the side of the truck just over your head. The other on your side pulling you a bit closer to him. Looping your arm around his neck for some leverage, you let Jake take over your senses. The softness of his tongue paired with how he nibbles at your lower lip pulls a little whine from you.

When you have to pull away for a ragged breath, Jake groans low in his throat as you press teasing kisses down the column of his neck to the V of skin his shirt shows off. The hand on your waist slides up to cup your cheek and pulls you back to his lips. Kissing Jake is easy, he doesn't leave enough room for you to question if he's enjoying it. Nor do you have the capacity to overthink it as Jake's lips move surely and confidently with your own. All there is is him, his warm strong body, soft lips, and the calluses of his fingers.

Leaning backward, you pull Jake with you wanting to have him pressed flush because even though you're tasting him, caged in, surrounded by him it still isn't close enough. However, the motion presses one of the Jeep’s jutting door hinges sharply into your back. You can't help but gasp a small "ow" as you try to shift. Concern creases Jake's features, and he pulls you away from his truck into his chest, glowering at the vehicle as if it had somehow betrayed him.

"You okay, darlin?" He asks, his hands tracing down your back checking for injury. You lean more into his chest even though you don't really need the support, it's just nice to be in his arms.

"I'm fine," you reassure him.

"Let's get you out of harms way." He says pulling open the passenger side door. As you start to heave yourself into the tall truck Jake is practically picking you up and easily setting you in the seat. You blink at him in surprise at his show of strength. He remains there, standing in the open door, leaning closer and placing his hand just above your knee, his thumb drawing circles there. Then he asks, "So, where would you like to grab some dinner, my dear?"

"I've heard of this really great restaurant I've been dying to go to."

"Yeah? Let's make it happen then."

"Mhmm," you hum in confirmation. "It's called Hangman's House."

Jake's thumb immediately stops moving and the smile on his face seems to shift. The genuine glint there slipping away, to something hard for you to really identify, practiced or guarded. Whatever the change was you don't find yourself liking it and immediately wonder where you misstepped.

"So, Hangman's House, that's a pretty exclusive place. They don't usually do unplanned reservations," Jake says after what's nearly an awkward silence.

"That's too bad. I heard that they have great service." You say a little dejected but glad he told you no in a casual manner that you can play off.

"You're in luck though, my dear, because I know the owner. I think he would be willing to make an exception for us sometime, but they are better known for their breakfast menu." Jake responds upbeat again.

"I like breakfast." You mutter in what you think is a flirty way. However, it's obvious that you've missed the mark when Jake's hand drops off your leg completely now.

"Listen, if this is just a one-night thing, just some making out and fun stuff, where you are going to leave in the morning and pretend it never happened next time we see each other," he says seriously. Pausing, he runs a hand through his hair taking a measured breath, and you watch as the muscle in his jaw flexes. "That's fine, but I need to know it now."

As you study his face intently it occurs to you that maybe even men like Jake Seresin have insecurities. Maybe he was used to interacting with people where more often than not they only saw him as a handsome face with a nice body. People who were ready to leave the next morning. The realization that a one night stand isn’t the series of events he is interested in with regards to you twists a pit of uncertainty in your stomach. You feel a little uneasy not sure exactly where you stand or what he wants with you.

Reaching to catch Jake's lost hand and tangling your fingers, you start playing with the big class ring he is wearing. He allows the movement and relaxes his hand further, giving you additional leeway. The distraction of Jake's fingers gives you the courage to say, "I guess maybe I misunderstood that this was going to just be a nice fun night with you. Is that not what you were looking for?"

"I do want that," Jake says adamantly. " However, I don't just want that."

"What do you mean?"

"I want to bring you flowers, dance with you, write you love letters. I want to explore every inch of your body and heart until I know what makes you tick. I want you to forget that any other man besides me even exists." Jake presses himself close to you again, and he turns his hand to thread your fingers tightly together. "Now I'm good, and I mean really good my dear, but those aren't goals I can make happen in one evening. So I want to start with tonight, taking you out and giving you a good time. And then I want to do the same thing tomorrow or whenever you have free time. I want to do that for as long as you will let me."

"Oh wow," you breathe, taken aback by his declaration. "That's kind of a lot."

"I know, but I don't want my intentions to be unclear. I wasn't lying when I said I've had my eye on you for a while. I'm happy to go at whatever pace you need; I'll do whatever you want. However, if this was all just getting back at your ex and proving a point. If you can't see yourself wanting anything more with me past tonight again, I need to know." Now, Jake takes his turn playing with your fingers as he breaks eye contact to stare at where you're intertwined. "I'll happily let you break my heart, but I don't want to be blindsided by it.

Surging forward, you pull Jake in to kiss you again. It's an awkward angle, and the way the truck makes you taller than him feels odd. However, none of that matters when his lips are so pliable against yours.

"I don't want to break your heart," you tell him between kisses. "I want to go on dates with you, and I want to go home with you. I want to go to bed with you and do it more than once if we find out we are compatible."

"Are you doubting our compatibility?" Jake asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Not really, but you know it's better to make sure with these things. Have to double check, I think."

"That makes sense," he concedes.

"Now let's get some food so you can take me home and then to bed. Show me these killer skills you mentioned earlier."

"We can do a lot tonight, but we can't sleep together," Jake says mournfully.

"Why not?" You ask confused.

"Everyone knows you don't sleep together until the third date," Jake drawls.

"That's a cliche. Plus, why does it really matter?"

"Because I've been dreaming about forever with you, and when you want forever with someone, you don't want to skip any steps." Jake answers, dead serious and earnestly. It makes you wish you weren't in such an awkward position in the truck. If you were still outside pressed against it, or in the bar even, it would be so much easier to show him the appreciation and affection burning inside.

"We've got to be somewhere near the third date by now. We have tonight and that camping trip we went on. Oh, and that one time that everyone went bowling. Plus, there was that bonfire a few months ago!" You say, trying to think of occasions you and Jake had spent a good amount of time together. While considering it, you also realize he has nearly always gravitated to your side during group interactions, and going off tonight, that clearly wasn't as coincidental as you had previously thought.

"You deserve real dates," Jake responds with conviction, and the look in his eye really isn't something you can or even want to argue with. There isn't anything wrong with someone wanting to act like a gentleman with you; it's actually flattering, especially when it's clear Jake isn't going to play any guessing games with you concerning his feelings.

"Well, then we are wasting time when we could be on our first date," you say, pressing another peck to his lips and lightly pushing him away from you.

"One last kiss," Jake whispers as he lurches close again for another peck. Then, he gently closes your door and jogs over to the driver's seat, asking where you want to get a bite to eat.

The two of you end up at a fancy Italian restaurant where you share an appetizer, bottle of wine, and dessert. During dessert, Jake insists you pose for a picture. Despite your initial resistance, he convinces you, and then, nearly as soon as he takes it, your phone lights up with a notification telling you that you’ve tagged you in his story. He tells you before you even ask that he hopes your friends looked him up on Instagram but requests that you repost it on your own just in case they didn't. He claimed it's so they know he's not kidnapped you, but you suspect that it's more likely he wants to prove a point. And it's something you don't mind one bit, especially when he easily lets you post a picture of him on your own story.

After the restaurant, Jake drives you both out of town a bit to where the sky is much clearer and the stars are visible. The evening isn't warm enough to cuddle in the truck bed like he wanted, so instead, you end up in the backseat with the moon roof completely rolled back. You manage to pretend to be looking at the stars for about three whole minutes before crawlingl into Jake's lap to kiss him.

Before the making out can get too heated, Jake grips your chin, urging your face upwards to look through the moonroof. Gruffly, he mutters into your ear, telling you to behave. Words that only make you squirm in your newfound place sitting on his lap. He lets you stay there, though, his hands steady on your hips, and his lips leisurely brushing yours or your neck whenever inspiration strikes.

"What were you doing out tonight looking so nice?" You wonder absentmindedly, unbuttoning the top button of Jake's shirt. It's not with an ulterior motive. Really, it's because Jake's shirt is so soft, and the top of it is hiding his dog tags from you, which you have suddenly decided is unacceptable. The new skin exposed to you is just an added benefit.

"Ah, nothing to worry about darlin'."

"Common, you can tell me," you say, pressing a kiss to the underside of his jaw.

"You know, whinnies?"

It takes you a moment to place the restaurant and remember that it's across the street from the bar where you met up with your friends. "The wine bar?"

"Yeah," Jake confirms. "Well, I was on a date there."

"Oh." When Jake doesn't say anything, you decide you have to push the conversation forward. "So, what happened to your date? Were they not nice?"

"No, she was real sweet," Jake says, and you feel your stomach drop as if you aren't in the back of his truck and sitting in his lap right now.

"So why did you end up at Gem's?"

"I was checking Instagram before she got there, and I saw you post that you were at Gems, right across the street. And no matter how nice she was, I knew it wasn't fair that I was thinking of a different person the whole time. So, we didn't even make it through appetizers before I had to be honest with her about that, and then I swung by Gems, hoping I would bump into you."

"You were at the bar just to see me?"

"Sure was. So imagine my surprise when you found and approached me first."

"How would it have gone if you had approached me first?" You wonder.

"For one, I would have offered to buy you a drink before stealing a kiss," Jake says teasingly.

"You're not going to let that go, are you?"

"Probably not for a while," he tells you. You groan and hide your face in his neck as if that will save you from some of the embarrassment. Feeling his chuckles in his throat and rumble in his chest is soothing, and you pepper more kisses to his neck and collarbone as if you were tracing the sound.

"You wouldn't have left without a kiss, though?"

"I wouldn't have left without seeing you, and I would have done everything to try and convince you to give me one," Jake promises.

"How would you have kissed me for the first time?"

"Are you asking for another demonstration?" he wonders. As soon as you nod in affirmation, he pulls you close, repositioning you on his lap so you're straddling him. The darkness of the truck makes it so you can't quite see how green his eyes are, despite that they are still somehow bright. He holds eye contact with you for a long moment. His hand cups your cheek, and like earlier in the night, he pauses, not closing the gap, observing you close. When you try to lean forward and seal your lips, he backs his head away. Then he chastises you while wearing a smirk, "I'm goin' to kiss you, baby. Now, let me do it how I want."

Anticipation tingles in you as Jake leans close; however, at the last minute, he swerves, pressing a kiss to your cheek, then the other cheek, your forehead, and your nose. Finally, his lips meet yours firmly. Closing your eyes, you sigh into the kiss. The feeling of being intimately connected to Jake again is nearly the same as relief. When your mouth opens, Jake licks into you, searching out your tongue with his own.

There no longer seems to be any will in Jake to tamper down the heat of your kissing. He allows you each time you push the envelope of the moment being just the soft sweet first date kissing he initially claimed to want. As he sucks on the sweet spot, her discovers on your neck, the way you grind downwards is involuntary and completely by accident. A low moan comes from Jake, and you like the way it sounds. So, the next time you grind down on him, it's completely intentional.

The dark slacks he is wearing don't do much to conceal his hardened length. After a few more rolls of your hips, Jake's hands tightly grip your waist helping you grind against him. He urges you into a rhythm that has whimpers, moans, and gasps passing from both your mouths between hot kisses. As you try to speed up, frantic lust beating so loud you can hear it in your ear, he doesn't let you. Though you are on top of him, there is no doubt that Jake is in complete control.

Just from this night, it's not difficult to imagine how he will be in the bedroom. Strong, consuming, and in control. You can picture how he will confidently lead you exactly where you want to go, and you will get there because just a back of the car's make-out shouldn’t cause someone to be as turned on as you are right now. You unbutton his shirt and let your hands roam over his chest. Dragging your nails along his abs causes a full body shudder and Jake to grip your ass so hard you think you might bruise. It doesn't bother you, though, because how can anything that gets you closer to his cock be a bad thing?

“Jake,” you say in a sudden moment of clarity. He hums his acknowledgment but keeps kissing at your neck and squeezing at your ass. A particularly hard thrust upwards from him nearly has your brain going fuzzy as you desperately try to hold yourself together. “Jake,” you repeat more forcefully, “we need to stop.”

“What’s wrong?” He asks concerned, detaching his lips from your skin and losing his hold so he is barely touching you.

“If we keep at this I'm going to beg you to fuck me right here right now,” you answer. He makes a strangled groan. With his swollen lips, lust filled eyes, and hard dick you're sure he wouldn't actually mind. “Which would be amazing but you told me about a three date rule and I agreed.”

“I did say three dates,” he responds and looks like he hates himself for it.

“But if it doesn't actually matter I would like to suck your cock at least once before we fuck.” You boldly tell him, twisting his dog tags in your fingers pulling them taut against Jake’s neck until the release beads give away. The chain falls into your grasp, and you use the warm metal to distract yourself.

“Fuck me,” he breathes throwing an arm over his eyes and leaning back. “You're perfect, you know that?”

“I'm not.”

“You are. So perfect, so hot.” He kisses you like he's about to ignore what you just said. Hot and a little sloppy with tongue and a bit at your lower lip. When he pulls away he rests his forehead against yours saying, “We are going to stop now because I don't want there to ever be a doubt in your mind that I'll keep the promises I make to you.”

Your stomach flips with affection, and you sag, leaning heavily into Jake, just hugging him tightly, waiting for the lust that's sparked to cool. The two of you even manage to get some actual stargazing in where hands roam but in more so in an exploratory way than sexual.

Holding hands driving back into the city you can’t stop staring at Jake’s profile, or admiring his fingers or tracing the veins of his forearms. You are focusing on trying to convince yourself that this isn’t a dream, you're definitely going to wake up with hickies in the morning, and another date with Jake Seresin scheduled tomorrow. It’s something that if you had been told at the start of your evening, you would have laughed at the absurdity of the idea.

"I know it's really soon, but do you think that if you asked me again in a few weeks if I'm still single, we'll be able to change my answer?" Jake asks you after a bit breaking the comfortable silence you two had been in.

"I think that's possible. What do you think about that?" You wonder.

"I would change my answer tonight if you wanted me to."

"Jake..."

"Listen, I really like you, and I don't see that changing anytime soon. So as soon as you give me the okay, I will bring you flowers with a promise ring and ask if you want to go steady with me." Jake's thumb rubs along your pulse affectionately, "I'll change my Facebook relationship status. I'll get a nice little charm with your name on it for my dog tags. I'll take you to meet my friends and brag about how amazing you are." Jake leans over at a red light to press a soft kiss to your lips. "The whole shebang."

"That sounds nice. Does that deal have a special name, too?"

"Yeah, we can call it the Jake special. It is a whole package, long-term, all-inclusive deal."

"Extended warranty?" You check jokingly.

"It actually has a no-return, no-refund policy," Jake answers.

"That's a pretty big commitment," you whisper back, even though the idea of keeping Jake all to yourself sounds nothing but appealing.

"It's not something that expires. So how about tonight, we just worry about getting you home where you're going to let me walk you to your front door and give you a kiss goodnight."

"Just one kiss?" You ask in a pretend pout.

"Let's shoot for two, but don't be surprised if it's three, maybe even four."

"I want five," you declare stubbornly.

"Then I'll give you six," he easily offers.

You try to hide your smile but don't quite manage it. It's a permanent fixture the whole drive home and during all seven of the goodnight kisses you get. They aren't the best kisses in the world because Jake is smiling through them, too. It's okay, though, because you both know there's going to be more in the future, a lot more.

#jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #jake seresin x you #Hangman x you #hangman fic

1K notes · View notes

kalinysu · 10 months

Note

💮 Hello, I was wondering if you could do a muzan × reader where they're married, so he's the demon king and she's the queen, and they have been together way before he was a demon, so he turned her. She's also pregnant, and he won't allow her to go on missions anymore. I would like to know if he would keep her by his side or would he lock her in her room. She can also walk in the sun. Please take your time. 💮

𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐏. — Muzan x F!Reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Gentle Muzan with slightly harsh words, stubborn reader.

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: Very cute request! I’ve never written for Muzan and a pregnant wife, so it should be fun. Might rewrite, this was a little lazy 😭

“Darling, please lay down.” Muzan said with a sigh. You two had been going back and forth all night, and you were keeping him quite busy, busy enough to the point he had to ignore his other tasks and focus on you in the moment. “Stop!! Don’t you have any missions for me to do?— I mean, I can’t just lay here for 8 months straight.” You said, trying to sit up and get out of bed.

Muzan kept you away from the other demons, well more specifically Douma. He was far too handsy with you even if you were of a higher status and deserved just as much respect as Muzan. He preferred keeping you locked inside of his room when he couldn’t have you near him, such as when he worked on experiments or had meetings with the ranks. You were too distracting and required every of his attention, which he was willing to give when you two were alone and he wasn’t busy.

“Woman. Lay down, now.” Muzan said, furrowing his brow a bit. His hands were placed on your shoulders, occasionally switching to your waist, trying to be as gentle as possible with you even if his words weren’t. He let out a exhausted sigh, getting into bed with you. He then wrapped his arms around you, holding you just firm enough so you couldn’t get up from the bed. “Missions—“ You said, still trying to free yourself from his grasps. “Darling, I’ve made it clear that i’m not letting you go on any missions while your pregnant, go to sleep.” He said. He was right, besides, you hadn’t slept in days, but you wanted to do something, anything but be in this room.

“Let go—stop it! Stop!”

Muzan eventually had to lock you up inside of your room, not allowing you out at all. He had practically began to neglect you after the first few days of staying by your side. He did bring you human flesh to eat sometimes, and spend short amounts of time with you before going back to his work. If you got into too much trouble while on your own, he’d have Kokushibo or Akaza watch you. And they watched you like a hawk. They treated you as if you were a human, and any minor injury would be treated majorly.

Muzan wanted to be near you, but he just had too much to do. Today though,Muzan had come to check on you while you were asleep. But when you heard the door open, you forced yourself awake. You felt Muzan pull the blankets over your body completely, before placing a hand on your shoulder. “Muzan..?” You mumbled, turning over to look up at him. He gave you a small smile, before getting into bed beside you. “Upper 1 told me you were crying today. What’s wrong?” He asked, and you could barely believe it. You were about to slap him, but he had caught your wrist. He was just about to lecture and scold you, but you had burst out into tears before he could.

He didn’t know that this was also just your hormones affecting your mood, and thought you were just sad. “Darling, come here.” He said, sitting the both of you up and pulling you closer, allowing you to cry into his chest. “Y-you barely ever stay with me anymore!!” You sobbed, gripping his shirt. “My love, you know I have things to do..” He said, gently stroking your head. He was being honest, but there was another reason. He wasn’t sure how to take care of someone he actually cared for who was pregnant, so he resorted to locking you away to keep you safe and away from others.

“My apologies. I’ll take you with me from now on, how’s that sound, hm?” He asked with a smile when you finally calmed down a bit, tilting your head up to look at him. You sniffled, before nodding, wiping away your tears.

#demon slayer #kny #muzan #kimetsu no yaiba muzan #muzan x y/n #muzan x reader #muzan x you

3K notes · View notes

agirlcandream84 · 16 days

Note

you write a lot of boyfriend!frank but how do you think he would be before that/at the beginning of the relationship, who would be the first to ask the other out? do you think frank would be confident in himself or a anxious mess during a first date? would he try to kiss her? and the same when it comes to first sex- confident or rather anxious? love your writing!! 💗

First of all -- thank you! So glad you're enjoying reading. Second -- such great questions! So much to think about.

Ok, so I imagine the relationship not following a typical linear path. In a lot of ways, I sort of envision my Neighbor!Frank stories to be a prelude to Boyfriend!Frank though there are a lot of differences between the two. They're not technically the same "character" but I still envision the relationship starting in a similar way. Meaning, you're in each other's orbits for a long time -- neighbors who rely on each other a lot (more like you relying on him more tho) and in a lot of ways, it's a very intimate, nearly romantic relationship. Frank sort of makes it his job to make sure you're taken care of, even if it is from down the hall. Hauling your packages up to your unit, fixing your jammed window, installing your garbage disposal for you.

And most of the time, he's anticipating your needs before you get a chance to ask him. Like that jammed window-- you worked up the nerve to knock on his door and ask for help and all you say is "Frank, I was wondering if maybe you could--" and he's finishing your sentence with "fix that jammed window? Yeah sweetheart, I saw your curtains blowin' in the breeze last night and knew that window must have been jammed open. Piece-of-shit landlord shouldn't be leaving you in a unit without locked windows" while he's grabbing for his toolbox.

And this goes on for months -- with the moments growing more intimate but still never romantic. Like when he was gone for 9 days straight and you couldn't stop checking the peephole everytime you heard footsteps. On the ninth day, when he finally came home, you barreled out of your apartment door and nearly crashed into his arms mumbling, "was so worried about you Frank. You didn't tell me you were leaving," and he's just rubbing your back and murmuring, "hey hey, I'm here sweetheart. Shit, didn't mean to worry ya -- just had some business I had to do. Hey I'm alright, I'm alright." And it was that moment that Frank decided he wasn't gonna leave you like that again.

Because as far as Frank was concerned, he was gonna stay in your life whether it was romantic or not. You were it for him. He was in it for the long haul. Now he was just gonna give you time for you to realize it too. And that came a few weeks later when a particularly pushy date was at your doorstep, pulling out every excuse in the books to get into your apartment, in the hopes of getting into your pants. He's got one foot in your door, going on and on about how he could really use a coffee and maybe you just could just make him a cup and you're politely declining over and over until you see Frank's door creak open and he casually leans against the frame, arms folded across his broad chest, and asks "everything alright sweetheart?" and the guy just cranes his neck back to say "fuck off buddy." Frank only smirks a bit before he makes eye contact with you and says "Say the word honey," and you just give him a quick nod. Frank is on the guy in two strides, stomping his foot with a sickening crunch and the guy is hunched and howling. Frank leans towards his ear, his arm looped around the guy's bicep as he hauls him upright and says "Apologize-- now" and the guy is spewing I'm sorrys at you as Frank shoves him with a "now get the fuck out of here."

Not a moment later and Frank is back in front of you, a hand cupped to your jaw and a thumb rubbing the skin of your cheek asking if you're ok and "he didn't touch you did he?" You lean into his hand and shake your head no, offering a quiet thank you for his help. You both stay like that a moment, reveling in the closeness. The safety of it. Frank's eyes are searching your face as he asks, "When are you gonna stop wasting your time with these assholes?" He had seen the dates come and go, never lasting more than a few awkward encounters. For a moment, you can't meet his eye but you force a smile and and ask "What asshole should I be wasting my time with?" He lets out a soft chuckle and his other hand lands on the opposite cheek, tilting your face up towards his as he says "this asshole" and guides your lips to his. At first the kiss is slow, tentative. Like he'd be asking permission if his mouth weren't already occupied. He's gauging your comfort but he soon finds confirmation when you let out a small whine as you raise to your tip-toes to deepen the kiss.

Like a powderkeg, Frank hauls you closer to him, guiding your bodies back into your apartment with your lips still locked. You're nearly floating, the strength of Frank's grip carrying you into the bedroom where he lifts you onto the bedroom and undresses you as he kisses along your body, telling you how fucking beautiful you are. And throughout it all you hear Frank's plea-- let me love you, let me love you, let me love you-- in the way Frank fills you up slowly, the way he asks "you ok sweetheart?" every time he draws a whimper from you, the way his hand is soft on your stomach as an orgasm tears through you.

And that was it. Not another moment passed that Frank didn't let you know you were his and he was yours.

Not the most storybook love story but it's how I envision it.

#frank castle #frank castle x reader #frank castle fanfic #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle smut #frank castle x you #frank castle x y/n #frank castle fluff

159 notes · View notes

nyoomiin · 28 days

Text

roommates: part seven.

your new roommate is... odd, and recently, so are your dreams. still, despite the secrecy, the mystery, and his ice cold exterior, you have the feeling you'd waltz right into love with him. (maybe you already have before.)

pairing. scaramouche x gn!reader

tags. no warnings, slice of life, fluff, slowburn, friends to lovers, reincarnation au, post irminsul erasure

prev. masterlist. next.

He wears his heart on his sleeve, you've learnt during the weeks you've spent with him — these days, he's taken to accompanying you in your shop as you sew. It's adorable, really. He’s sweet and pure, and far too innocent. Someone like him must’ve had to be godsent.

That day, he's flighty and nervous, lost in endless thought.

“What's been on your mind?” you ask, placing your embroidery down.

He fidgets with the hem of his sleeve. “I don't have a name. Some people… I hear they call me the Kabukimono.”

“Want me to yell at them for you?” you huff, wrinkling your nose. Really, did people have to call him that to his face? How rude. He turns you down hurriedly, and you only laugh. “Anyway, so what if you don't have a name? You can just give yourself one.”

“Give myself one?” he parrots, curious.

You nod eagerly. “Of course! Many of the orphaned children name themselves.”

He goes silent, and you wonder if you had said something insensitive. Maybe you shouldn't have mentioned the orphans? Maybe his childhood was a sore spot for him? Maybe —

“Oh,” he murmurs. A little smile grows on his face. “Okay.”

“Kunikuzushi.”

You tilt your head, blinking at him in confusion. Huh? He grins at you, slightly breathless and dazzingly bright. “I want to name myself Kunikuzushi.”

“What a nice name,” you say, his contagious smile leaking into a smile of your own. “Then, may I call you Kuni?”

The tips of his ears dust a faint pink. “Okay. But only if it's you.”

And that was how Kuni became a name only yours.

You awaken, disoriented, with cotton in your mind and stones on your limbs. Your sleep hasn't been any good in the recent weeks, and your dreams only got brighter, consuming, as if one day you'd fall asleep and never stop dreaming. You drag yourself out of bed, massaging your temples. Maybe you should see a doctor.

Seriously, who dreams about their roommate so damn much? You can barely remember it now, as most dreams were wont to do, but you just know it had been about him.

You huff. It was probably because he's the most interesting thing to have happened in your life so far. How would he not? He was drop-dead fucking gorgeous, and had a mysterious past. His personality could definitely do with some work, but you can tell he's not all bad inside. Now, he even spends time with you outside of the apartment. In the library, at cafes… Sometimes he ran errands with you as well. At your insistence, of course.

Well, and maybe it was because you had a bit of a crush.

Just a small one.

Yeah.

You present the finished garments you've been working on to him many weeks later.

“I worked hard on these,” you tell him seriously, narrowing your eyes at him. “So I better see you wearing them soon.”

He inspects the clothes carefully, and you can tell he is impressed. They're well made, accurately at that — and they would go well with the shawl you had made months ago. You hadn't done all that research and spent all that money on materials for nothing.

He hums, raising a brow. “Don't tell me you can't afford to hire models.”

You scowl, swatting at him. “They're for you, idiot. I'm not selling them.”

“How did you even get my measurements?” he snipes back, wrinkling his nose at you.

“I don't know, actually. I just did what felt right.” You shrug. “They should fit though. Tell me if I have to alter them for you! And I swear to god if you don't wear them —”

He huffs, rolling his eyes. “Fine, fine. Whatever.”

You cheer, and it's comical how happy you get just because of something as simple as that. You've become so simple it's almost cute. In a pitiful way. You grin, though mostly at yourself.

“Kuni, you’re the best,” you chirp.

He stiffens, brows drawn into a frown. His lips part, but before he says anything, he turns on his heel and leaves.

It's utterly baffling. What has gotten into him now?

You watch his retreating figure disappear into the market, repeating the nickname in your mind. Kuni. Your dream-self had come up with it, and honestly, there was no way in hell you weren't going to use it. It was an adorable nickname, if you did say so yourself.

(“There might have been a leak in the Irminsul on the day you regained your memories,” Nahida speculates thoughtfully. “Although it shouldn't be possible for anyone to remember you at all.”

No fucking shit. “They said they learnt of the Kabukimono through a dream.”

If it were so impossible, then why was all of this happening? Why have you not changed a bit? Why — why were you calling him Kuni?

“Fix it,” he demands. Either you got back your memories or got rid of them all — he didn't care for which. Anything to get you out of this hellish limbo, of remembering and yet not. “I erased the world's and you returned to me mine. Fixing theirs will be simple, no?”

Nahida says nothing, and he growls, turning away from her lest he strikes something out of frustration. “How is it that out of all the people in this godforsaken world — it is them?”

You, who remembered. You who returned, in this twisted, roundabout way.

She catches on to his question easily. Softly, she hums.

“Perhaps, it's only because they wanted to.”)

taglist. (send an ask to be added.)

@franaby @dragontammerz @ainnofinway @sketcheeee @briluvspnk @bunniicantsleep @featuredtofu @tragedy-of-commons @parkjayssi @xiaosantenna @idontevenknow129 @bfajax @mostlymoth @thenyxsky @kiyiiaarchived

#—stellaronhvnters.#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #scaramouche x reader #genshin impact #genshin #scaramouche #teehee.

124 notes · View notes

tallymonster · 6 months

Text

Memories of Us

Chapter 1 (you are here!) || Masterlist

So, I like many others had seen this gorgeous fan art by @cheesy-cryptid and I was utterly hypnotized by it. I couldn't stop thinking about it and from that constant thought growing came my silly fic.

This has been a labor of love for the last month. I'm still working on it and so far I have about 10 parts 🙃 depending on the feedback is how quickly I'm going to be posting since it's still a work in progress. I want to thank my best friend and my main support for this @micropoe10 ❤️ without her I wouldn't have pushed myself to even post this, so thanks boo 😘

This is also my first long fic, so please be gentle 🥺

Summary: Octavia is a new assistant at the Baldur's Gate Museum of History, her new boss is elusive and mysterious. Good thing his right hand man, Gale, is there to help her out for the first few weeks.

Tags: Nothing too bad for the first few parts, fluff, establishing storyline mostly, generational lineage mentioned.

Chapter 1

Never Caught My Breath

The day Octavia was incredibly nervous about had arrived. After her graduation (which seemed like a lifetime ago), endless stack of paperwork and at least 3 different interviews; Octavia made it to the Baldur's Gate Museum of History, the end of her long and difficult studies.

Here, she would start as the new assistant curator. What's strange though, is that after the last interview she thought she'd get to meet her boss, but it was his main assistant, Gale.

"I must apologize", he begins, "but our lead is currently out of the office for another week, maybe two, so I must conduct the final round, I hope you understand."

Strange, but not unheard of. The majority of the work would be with Gale directly, but it was at the least, the most basic courtesy for her boss to introduce himself by this point.

As she walks into the museum, relics from the past line the cabinets; old armor and gloves from heroes of legends from long ago, tons of jewelry and books, rare spell scrolls, and most prized of all, paintings recovered from the fall of the Szarr Manor prominently hung on the walls. Their subjects long gone, they now serve to be viewed by those who would be their victims under different circumstances.

Octavia stops at one of the many paintings of a pale elf, his silver hair in perfect tendrils, piercing red eyes glare back at her and she feels a slight shudder run down her spine, it was probably just a little bit of nerves. Still, she couldn't help but notice that same subject surrounding her in other works. If not as the main feature, but in the background of at least a dozen. Who was this person? She drifts off in thought.

"Miss Octavia? Hello? Can you hear me?" Snapping back from the daydream, she sees Gale standing beside her. His positive attitude ever present, notebook in hand he greets her with a small wave. "Lots to do this morning! We got a delivery of religious artifacts from a Sharran temple in the Underdark that was previously thought to be lost." His eyes glimmer with excitement.

"We're looking at at least a day to see what was delivered, another to catalog it all, and then, my favorite part, writing the plaques for all of it." He chuckles "Altogether at least a month of work, maybe two if there's a particular item that's more mysterious than the others." He finishes his explanation with a tilt of his head.

Octavia nods, her mind still on the portrait, "Quick question, Gale? Do you know who that subject is? They're featured in a lot of the paintings, but there's no information about them?" He glances up, "Well, we've done some research into the subjects of all the paintings, luckily we've put some names to faces..." He trails off, brows furrowing slightly at the face staring at them both "that particular subject, though, unfortunately not."

He turns wearing a wistful smile "I do wish to put a name to that face, and I intend to, but our wonderful curator often reminds me that not every mystery has to be solved." He scoffs with a grin and shrugs "Of course he would, he loves to give me a hard time about my dedication to the museum, you'd think he would appreciate the tireless research but to each their own."

Octavia relaxes a bit and ask "Have you known each other long? I mean, since he's been gone this whole time I haven't gotten to meet him yet. Is he....nice?" She says the last word quietly, almost a whisper.

Gale picks up on the anxious question and lowers his notebook, his eyes softened as he leans in, "There's nothing to be nervous about with him, he's much more bark than bite, as they say. He's really wonderful once you get to know him. Just a little rough around the edges...you know these eccentrics..they're all so guarded but deep down, they're just like us regular boring people."

He grins in assurance and goes back to his notebook, "Before I forget, said eccentric has reached back out to me and he'll be returning tomorrow evening! He'd like to make your acquaintance as soon as possible and apologize for his absence." Oh, shit. "Wonderful!" She does an okay job at hiding the crack in her voice, she clears throat, grimaces a bit and adjusts the badge clipped to her smock. "When and where?"

#bg3 #astarion #baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x oc #long fic #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #astarion bg3 #fic: memories of us

137 notes · View notes

am-i-the-asshole-official · 4 months

Note

Would I be the asshole for asking my suicidal girlfriend not to vent with me? First ask here, be warned for heavy topics about the above situation. Putting an emoji for easy finding. 🦐

I am a polyamorous person (22nb) with my long distance girlfriend (22f) of about 1 year. I love her deeply, and we have known each other for a long time when I used to go to school in person with her. I also have an in person queer platonic partner (22nb) who lives with me currently and has been with me for about 3 years. Both of my partners are suicidal and self harm, though the partner who is living with me has luckily seemed to improve a lot through being able to spend time with someone who cares for them constantly. My girlfriend...sadly has not gotten the same chance, since she moved long before we got together and has only her family to keep her stable (who have proven before this point that they are pretty terrible support systems, when they actively encouraged her self harming to become worse).

Luckily, I have had this rodeo before due to a majority of my friends struggling with this sort of problem, and when she began saying things in my dms that pointed towards depression and suicidality, I was quick to try to help her get into therapy. Whether or not this therapist is really the best is sort of iffy, as the therapist hasn't worked with her on a lot despite over a month of them working together, so...she hasn't gotten much work towards helping to change things and has felt somewhat stuck. I know she needs to probably get a new therapist, but due to not having insurance at the moment it's not an easy situation to just change. Since things have not gotten to improve, she...has still felt horrible most days will come to me in DMs to tell me how bad it is. Which, you know, should be fine, but it's the *way* she talks about it-- it's in a very vent heavy, far too much triggering information, Everything Is Horrible and there is no way to fix it and I should Die, way.

I have learned boundaries in regards to my own mental health due to just how often I have encountered things, and luckily, my other partner is great about it! They don't talk about their issues with suicidality all that much which can make me worried at times, but when they *do*, it's very much a situation of them bringing up how they feel and then us moving forwards to do something distracting or something that will help them. Instead of an info dump of Horrible Information That Makes Me Fear For Their Life, it's just. Moving to make sure they're doing better and changing things, identifying why certain feelings are feeling bad. But with my girlfriend, these topics come on suddenly without warning, are spoken in such a way that I feel like 1. I can't move on or change anything to help 2. I don't have a way to respond that will end up doing anything but make her feel worse. I feel at a complete loss of how to handle these things that she's just throwing on me. I haven't mentioned yet to her how bad these ventings make me feel because I'm worried it would make her internalize it and worsen her issues, though I know I do probably need to communicate it with her. I feel that she may just not be quite as mature as my other partner in how to handle feelings like this yet(most likely due to lack of support systems), and I WANT her to be able to talk about her feelings. I'm her girlfriend, after all, a little bit of emotional labor is always going to be a part of supporting people that close to you. Just...not in a way that will end up ultimately making both me and her feel like shit, and get her in a worse direction than before.

She eventually will be moving in with us next year, and I am wondering if I should try to wait to talk about it until then when she has more of a support to lean against, or should I try to figure it out right now. Right now could leave her...hurt and much more vulnerable, which would be a real risk considering the scenario. Would I be the asshole for telling her that she needs to work on how she talks about these topics, and that I can't have her continuing to put her emotions on me like this?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole #suicide cw #self harm cw

126 notes · View notes

yan-lorkai · 11 months

Text

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Yan!Vil with homesick!reader

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/n: Been in soft vil moods this past days so I wrote this lol.

Being in a different world is hard, it's scary. And the worst of it is feeling alone even if there are people by your side every day. This is exactly how you've been feeling these last few days, lost and without a path, without a clue and without any progress. The idea of returning to your world disappears from your head more and more, it seems more distant and impossible.

You wonder what the people most important to you think of what happened. Do they think you ran away? Are they still looking for you even after all these months?

"Prefect, shouldn't you be sleeping at this time?"

Vil's strict but soft voice sounded behind you. And you look at him, trying to read his expressions, but there's nothing on his face that lets you know how he feels or what he thinks. You can only imagine how intriguing the scene from his point of view must be. You sitting on the ground next to Ramshackle's front door as you look out over the yard and think about everything you've left behind, annoying tears drying in your eyes.

If only Tsunotaro had shown up today, maybe your melancholy thoughts wouldn't have troubled you so much that you couldn't sleep. And maybe now Vil wouldn't be looking at you that way, as if scolding a child.

"Prefect, I await an answer." He crouched down beside your, carefully wiping away your tears with his fingertips. "Why are you out here in the cold and crying? Why didn't you come to me or the others?"

You shrugged. In NRC, there is an unspoken rule that nobody truly cares about your problems. And well, they're all villains, so it's not like you really want to share your feelings with them without the fear that someone will laugh.

But it's also not like no one will understand your pain. At least not completely, they all had a family to go back to during the holidays, they all had their parents and siblings close by who they could count on in the most difficult times. You only had Grim and he only had you; you two were literally two in one in every sense of the word.

"It just got something in my eye." You lied not caring what he thought, brushing his hand away. You and Vil only interacted during VDC rehearsals, so it's not like you were friends and it bothered you that he was there for you during a fragile moment. "Don't worry about me, I'll be right back to my room. I just needed some air."

A sound of disbelief left Schoenheit and he cupped your face with both hands in a quick gesture, caressing your cheeks and looking deep into your eyes.

"Potato, I can see you're not feeling good." He whispered.

It was true. It was true and for you to hear him say it out loud confirmed that normality had slipped through your fingers and that you really were in a strange world, this wasn't some kind of strange dream. The look so soft in his lilac eyes, the way he caressed your cheeks and pulled you into a hug was all you needed to let the tears roll and the sobs escape your throat.

Maybe even someone strict like him had some sympathy in his heart. His hands gently rubbed your back as he whispered words of comfort, feeling you shiver in his arms. And the scene broke his heart. But your teary eyes certainly were a beautiful sight, not even the most beautiful pictures taken by Rook could compare to you.

"I miss home." You confessed, quiet, fearful.

The hug tightened and you hid your face in his neck, you never wanted to feel that way again and at the same time you wanted to feel everything. Feeling was one of the only things you could do and missing everything gave you the necessary determination to keep surviving one more day in this strange world.

"It's understandable that you feel that way," Vil muttered. "But, you know, there are ways to alleviate this longing and feel closer to the people we love, even though we are far away."

You looked at Vil curiously, frowning at what you had just heard. Whatever solution he was going to offer, you knew it wouldn't be enough to ease the pain you felt. Still he continued, combing your hair with his fingers. "Write a letter to each person you miss and then burn it, I hear it can help ease the weight you feel."

You looked at him in disbelief and that drew a laugh from Vil who watched your reactions. "Another thing that can help a lot is to create a routine, something that you do every day that makes you feel closer to home. If you liked to listen to music or read at home, do that here. It can give you a feeling of comfort and familiarity."

You nodded and thanked him for sharing these tips, even though a pessimistic part of your brain doubted any of them would work. Yet you were grateful for his intentions and saw him in a new light from that moment on.

Vil then placed his hand over your heart. "Remember that you are not alone and that there are people who care about you, they're all right there."

You smiled once more.

Oh, if you had noticed that peculiar glint in his eyes…

"Thanks, really, I'll think about it." You promised, pulling away from the hug and the hands that massaged your shoulders, feeling like a weight was lifted off your shoulders just by having someone by your side.

Except Vil hates sharing your attention and he would take up every bit of your time because only he could take care of you and love you the way you deserve.

You got up and offered your hand to help him up, then wishing him a good night. Surely you would sleep that night with one less worry, you weren't alone. You had Grim, Ace and Deuce by your side. And… A part of you mind added a new face to the people you felt you could trust, Vil as well.

#yandere twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #twst #twst vil #twst vil schoenheit #yandere vil #yandere vil schoenheit #yandere vil x reader #yandere vil x yuu #yandere vil x mc #vil x reader #vil x yuu #vil x mc #tw yandere

349 notes · View notes

kookslastbutton · 9 months

Note

Request 👉👈 (♡´▽`♡)

(TlTD) jungkook and oc surprising each other by buying gifts for each other on the same day

Request

↩︎ Too Late To Dream Couple

✑ summary: you and jungkook surprise each other by buying gifts for each other on the same day.

pairing: economics professor!jungkook x artist!reader

genre: fluff

Word Count: 560

a/n: This is so cute! Thank you for requesting anon! ❤️🥰

"I'm home!" The plastic bag rustles in your hand as you slip your shoes off. You make your way to the kitchen next, hearing the sound of running water.

"Hi honey." Your husband stands at the sink, his hands soapy from washing the dishes. You move to give him a quick peck on the lips before setting the bag on the counter.

"Picked you up something on my way home from work," you hum.

Hearing this, Jungkook quickly dries his wet hands on the kitchen towel. "Wait, really?" He grins at you. "You got me something?"

You nod. "Close your eyes."

"No wait—" He stops you abruptly and runs towards your bedroom. "Just wait there okay honey, I'll be right back."

Jungkook bolts out of the room not ten seconds later with something small in his hand. Its wrapped in what looks like dense brown paper and a ribbon. "Together," he says, handing the item to you.

"No way. Are you serious? You got me a gift too?" Jungkook sees the astonishment on your face. You're so cute, he thinks.

"C'mon open it, open it." He gestures for you to tear the package open, dying to see your reaction. You carefully unfold the edges and slide the box out from its brown wrapping paper.

"Oh my god." Your jaw drops. "Kook these are the watercolors I've been wanting for months. They're always sold out wherever I look, how did you get these?!"

"Well, I know a guy..." Jungkook replies, proud smirk on his face. "I'm not telling who though."

"You bribed Taehyung didn't you?"

"Uh, honey, who do you think I am?" He flashes a sarcastic expression. "I didn't bribe him. I paid full price, fair and square."

You chuckle and go in for a hug. "Thank you so much for this Kook. I love you so much. I can't wait to use these."

"Of course baby, you're so worth it."

Once you break apart you grab your bag holding it close to your chest. "I can't compete with you," you say, a tad disappointed. "This is just a silly thing. It's nothing near as wonderful as the gift you got me.

"Hey." He strokes your arm a little before sneaking the bag out from your grasp. "Don't say the gift my thoughtful, sweet, and most beautiful wife got me is silly. I refuse to let that happen."

He opens the bag, cheesing especially hard when he sees what's inside. "Honey what," He pulls out three bottles of banana milk and two strawberry milks. "I love it. I love it so much. You're the best you know that?"

You cover your face, embrassed that you got such a simple gift compared to the paints you got him. "I'm sorry, if I had known we were exchanging gifts I would have gotren something far better."

"Better?" Jungkook steps closer towards you until he's nearly tickling your nose. "What's better than you Mrs. Jeon?"

You stare at him with your heart beating out of your chest as usual. Married for two years and still so painfully shy when he gets this close to you.

"And you know I've had this weird milk obsession for years so what you got me is perfect. I love you and I love my gift." He wraps his arms around you and places his lips on yours.

no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

#jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #bts fluff #bts imagines #fic:toolatetodream #kookslastbutton #requests

241 notes · View notes

snek-panini · 15 days

Text

The last of my Binderary books, #10 and #11, are here! This is The Mathematical Improbability of Reaching the Stars by cassieoh and D20Owlbear and it is another very long fic that I had to split into two volumes. It's a wonderful Good Omens human!AU with believable relationship development and very likeable OCs. I like to go into summaries at this point in my binding posts but I have trouble pinpointing the reason I like this one so much. It's just compelling and I like spending time with these characters. It reads like an original story and yet it's undeniably a GO fic. I don't know how else to phrase it.

I had a major disappointment with the bind, though. As you can no doubt see in the photos above, there was major glue leakage when I did the htv and it ruined my book cloth. That's a homemade paper-backed cloth and it's this wonderful textured green fabric (I think it's polyester but it's shiny and lightweight) but it did not like that silver foil htv At All. Really sad that it turned out like that. The silver leaves were also an absolute nightmare to weed. So many teeny tiny pieces, and I had to do four of them. I stand by the design, it's very pretty and I still think it fits the book, but I have got to find another option for putting titles on homemade cloth. I've done five of them now and I have this issue every time.

More photos under the cut! It is still a very pretty set, even with the cover issues.

You can see the fabric texture really well on the backs, and there's no glue issue there either. Part of me wishes I'd left the front covers blank like the backs. I love how the spines turned out; that's black faux leather and it always takes htv like a champ. I like how I did the titles here too. I really wanted them on the spines but it's such a long title that I'd have had to scrunch it down really small to make it fit. Weeding tiny text is always a pain and it limits the fonts you can use and still be legible, but splitting it up like this? Love it. Looks so good on my shelf.

Silver foiled edges! I had trouble getting the foil to stick, like always, but I ended up sort of layering it over the unstuck parts and got this kind of patchy look that I love. Handmade double core endbands, and this is one of the most complex patterns I've done in endbands so far. I love them and think they came out really beautiful.

The endpapers are this beautiful chiyogami leaf pattern. I bought these for this fic before I'd even started typesetting it because I knew they'd be perfect. Chiyogami is my favorite thing to use for endpapers lately, I love it so much.

I went really simple on the typeset here. It's a contemporary story, as opposed to a lot of the historical and fantastical ones I tend to bind, and I thought the sleek typeset suited it. I'm not as in love with the title page as I could be but I do like it. It's about the text, not the flourishes, once you get into the meat of the story.

One fun typesetting thing I was able to do with this one happened in the headers and footers. Usually I do page numbers at the bottom, author's name on the top left and title on the top right, but the combination of two authors and a really long title meant the headers got really unwieldy. They were too long and bled into the body text. So I split them up like this, and I love it! Looks so sleek. I've been looking for an excuse to do it like this again on other typesets but it hasn't fit anything yet.

And that's that! I asked for author permission for these but never heard back, so I hope they're both ok with what I did. I'm overall pleased with the results (and in love with parts of it) and I know what I still need to work on.

This is the last of my Binderary books! 11 is too many! I'm never doing that many books in a month again! Now I've got everything posted I feel like I can move on to new projects, though it may be a bit before I have any new books to post. I've got a format experiment in mind.

#bookbinding #fanbinding #snek makes books #good omens #fic rec #at last all the binderary books are posted #it took longer to post them than it did to make them #i will not have any more new books for at least a couple of months #honestly these have flaws but I don't love them any less for it #they're beautiful and i think i did a good job #and the fabric has such a nice texture #good for holding

50 notes · View notes

garlimcbread · 17 days

Note

write me a fic where like everyone lived but over time the gang all moved out of Tulsa and stopped talking as much- and how those idiots reunited and what was it like?

UGHHHH I LOVE HOW YOU THINK POOKIE

I am NOT good at writing fics so this is probably gonna be either bad or ooc (probably both)

Ponyboy leans back in his chair, stretching his arms above his head and groaning at the feeling of his back popping. He's really gotta stop hunching over his desk like this.

He surveys his work so far. The book is nowhere near done, and he's still gotta edit it, but he's happy with his progress.

As he's putting his laptop away, the phone on his desk rings. He groans, assuming its the publishing house asking about his progress again. He picks it up regardless.

"Hello?"

"Pony?"

"Soda?"

Pony hasn't heard from either of his brothers in a while. It's not that they're on bad terms, it's just that none of them have reached out, at least not to Ponyboy.

"Hey Pony. Uh- Johnny's coming in next week. I know this is last minute, but do ya' wanna come over? We're all gonna be there."

What, did Soda think Ponyboy wanted nothing to do with any of them? Maybe he is as dumb as he says he is.

"Course, Soda. Where? The old house?"

"Yeah. Darry's just as stubborn as he's always been, didn't wanna get out."

They both laugh. Pony wonders why he hadn't reached out before now.

"I'll be there. Even Dally'll be there?"

"Yup. I'm just as shocked, but I think Dally'd do anything for Johnny."

Dally had moved back to New York shortly after he'd turned 18. Up state. He didn't want anything to do with New York City. Last Ponyboy heard, he was going to Watertown.

Pony had never heard of it, but it's not like he could convince Dally not to do something. Nobody could, except for Johnny.

Dally had wanted to move to Rochester, but Johnny's mom had moved there shortly before, and Johnny didn't wanna run into her while visiting Dally.

"Right. I'll get on a plane as fast as I can."

"Alright, Cali-boy."

Pony snorts. "Don't call me that."

The line goes dead, indicating Soda had hung up. Pony puts the phone back on the receiver.

The phone ringing cuts through the air. Pony groans. That's definitely the publishing house now.

✧･ﾟ: *━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━*:･ﾟ✧

Ponyboy didn't think he'd be flying places so soon. Sure, he'd had to travel for those book signings last month, but he usually only does those every couple years since they take a lot out of him.

As he grabs his luggage from the overhead bin and shuffles out of the plane with the crowd, trying to avoid being recognized even if he's in Oklahoma, he can't help but feel excited.

He hasn't seen the gang in years. Dally had moved out the second he could, as did Steve.

Two-Bit stayed with his mama for a couple more years after that until she got fed up with him doing nothing but drink all day and kicked him out.

Johnny moved out as soon as he could, and Ponyboy doesn't blame him. His dad had stayed in town afterall, even after Johnny's mom left to live closer to her family.

Ponyboy left before Sodapop did, even though he's younger. Darry hadn't left, apparently.

Ponyboy was just gonna grab a rental car and head out to Tulsa, but he gets absolutely body slammed by someone as soon as he's out in the main lobby. Pony shrieks and starts to fight the unknown person off, until he hears them laugh.

"Sodapop Curtis!" He scolds Soda. "You nearly gave me a heart attack!"

"I can't help it! I was just so excited to see you!"

Ponyboy huffs, sitting up as Soda gets off him.

"Help me up, asshole."

Soda snickers and does as Ponyboy asked him to.

"You got everything? I'll drive you."

"Yeah, I got everything."

Sodapop smiles at him. Ponyboy can't help but smile back, regardless of how annoyed he is.

✧･ﾟ: *━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━*:･ﾟ✧

When Ponyboy gets through the door he's already being tackled again.

"Ponyboy!"

"Keith!" He squawks, "Get off!"

Sodapop laughs as he steps around them. "You're awful popular today, Pony."

Darry yanks Two-Bit off him, tossing him on the couch right on top of Steve. Two-Bit continues to cackle even as Steve shouts at him and Darry.

"Sorry, Pony. I've been tryin' to reel him in." Darry helps Pony up off the floor.

"It's alright, Darry. I know you've probably got you hands full with him and Dal and Soda."

"Dal ain't here yet, Pone," Johnny pipes up. He'd been so quiet Ponyboy hadn't even noticed him there.

Pony grins, going in for a hug. "Hey, Johnny."

Johnny smiles back, hugging Ponyboy tight. Jesus, the guy's gotten tall. "Hey, Pony. How you been? How's Cali?"

Pony shrugs. "Well, it's Cali." Ponyboy pulls away from Johnny, but keeps him within arms reach by settling his hands on Johnny's shoulders. "How's Mexico?"

"Fine, better than stayin' with my old man."

Johnny had moved in with his dad's side of the family in Mexico. They're nicer than him, which makes Ponyboy wonder what the hell happened to that man to make him so bitter.

"Ain't that the truth? How long are you stayin'?"

"Just a week, then my visa runs out. Wish I could stay longer," Johnny sighs.

"Wish I could too. Where's Dally?"

"Probably still on the plane. I think it takes longer to get here from Watertown than Los Angeles."

"It does," Pony confirms, "Only took me three hours to get here."

Johnny pulls Pony into a hug again. "Still too long, I think," He mumbles into Pony's shoulder.

Ponyboy rolls his eyes, patting Johnny's back. "Yeah, yeah."

✧･ﾟ: *━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━*:･ﾟ✧

Dally comes through the door an hour after everyone gets settled. Johnny hops right off the couch to greet Dally with a hug.

Dally doesn't push him back, but only pats his back. "Glory, kid. You got tall. What're they puttin' in the water down there?"

"Missed you, Dal."

"Missed you too, Johnnycake." Dally pats him on the back one more time, and then gently pushes Johnny back.

"How's Watertown?"

"Fine. Ain't like New York City, that's for sure."

"Well, that's good." Johnny smiles.

"Kinda. It's kinda boring, too."

Johnny snickers. "Good to see you haven't changed much, Dal."

"You ain't changed either, Johnnycake." Dally grins.

Johnny rolls his eyes. "Oh, I've changed plenty, Dal."

"Agree to disagree. Where's Cali-boy?"

"Quit callin' me that!" Pony shouts from his old bedroom. Darry had told him he could set up there for the week.

"Well, there he is." Johnny smiles.

#the outsiders #ponyboy curtis #sodapop curtis #darry curtis #darrel curtis #johnny cade #dally winston #dallas winston #two bit mathews #steve randle #this was the fic I lost all of </3 #It was supposed to be longer but I lost everything up to Ponyboy getting tackled by Two-bit 💀

35 notes · View notes

eluxcastar · 11 months

Note

hello hello greetings! could i request a vampire reader x harbingers who offers to turn them into a vampire as well (how romantic to offer the concept of *forever* to their lover), its got the whole package of night vision/ immortality/ super strength/ speed/ etc etc but they'd lose the ability to use visions/delusions cause they're technically gonna be "dead" would the harbingers except or decline 👀👀 (excluding pulcinella and pierro)

Harbingers with a Vampire s/o

── ୨୧：harbingers x reader

୨୧﹑synopsis :: just me being absolutely off my head again talking about the harbingers' opinions on vampirehood

୨୧﹑content :: gn reader, vampire reader

୨୧﹑words :: I shit you not this post is 666 words long what in the My Immortal

anon baby you found my weak spot I'm so normal about this subject (it's my special interest) (sorry) ANYWAY this has been chilling in my inbox for ages, so it's time I finally write it. I started it a while ago but then I got busy and didn't post for a month and now I am suddenly two followers away from 400 so hi hello thank you

anyway back to the request I question the visions and delusions part because Qiqi is a Zombie an uses a cryo vision BUT I'M GONNA GLOSS OVER THAT BECAUSE YEs

Let's go lowest to highest in ranking like I usually do and start with Childe who, imo, would accept on the grounds that it is power and he will take anything to become more powerful even at a detriment to his health and physical condition. Though there is a price, he has accepted prices before and assuming that the pay off is good enough the use of a vision or delusion would be obsolete anyway. That, coupled with his love for you as his motivation is more than enough to sway him in your favour as he can see more to gain than lose from spending eternity by your side.

Arlecchino is a tough one because I can totally see it and it's really hot but Idk if she would. I wanna say yes, but I can also see reasons for no. The Vampire Arlecchino energy wins though because tbh I can see her being willing to make that sacrifice for her lover. I don't see her as fully whipped per se but like she's definitely loyal yk, probably pick you over the Tsaritsa and would want to spend an eternity with you at your behest.

Next is Pantalone. Cool vampire vibes. Someone gave me this wonderful headcanon that he is obsessed with his delusion, and I now love it to death so much that I based a character on it. So tbh yeah, there's benefits in this for him. He gets to be with you and have a little more power at a far lesser detriment. Plus like, you can't convince me this man wouldn't be lowkey into it.

Signora, I'm not sure. She has already lived a long time, and she has a lot of natural power already. Her delusion is what balances her, so I honestly think I'd have to say no. I WANNA SAY YES REALLY BAD BECAUSE I FEEL LIKE THERE'S OPPORTUNITY THERE, but I also just don't think so, but like she'll still be with you for a long time.

Sandrone, I honestly don't know either, because I don't know much from the two words she's spoken. If I remember, she doesn't care for other people, though, so she's likely very in love with anyone who managed to break through that and may be willing to make sacrifices for you.

For Scaramouche- well, bro is an artificial human, so tbh, I don't even think he would be affected by that. I'll skip him too.

Next would be Pulcinella, but I was told no Pulcinella, so Capitano (I almost forgot him send help). I like the abyssal creature Capitano headcanon, but even if he was just, a guy. I think the answer is no. HE'S WHIPPED AND WOULD DO ANYTHING BUT NOT THIS 😭 at least not at first, but give it a while and I can see it. It'll take time, though.

Columbina is also tricky because she has such entity vibes, but like also, seraph/vampire pairing would be so hot I can't even deny that. I should write that. Anyway, I feel like she's already immortal, so that doesn't matter, and she is indifferent to the power you offer. It's a matter of it not holding value. She has everything she could get out of it already.

Finally, we come to Dottore. Dottore is into it, don't lie, you know he is; this man is freaky. He'd enjoy the prospect of being a Vampire more than the perks of it, and that's enough to convince him. Besides it's 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝓼𝓬𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓬𝓮 so he gets to excuse it. He couldn't turn it down even if it was just one of his segments because he's got to know what it's like and all the differences. He collects knowledge.

This was way more chaotic than usual 💀 Idk if I will write more like this but I did enjoy it so maybe, depends if y'all like this or my other styles more. I just like the chilled out casual chaos sometimes so lmk

299 notes · View notes

ideas-4-stories · 5 months

Note

It's fluff-o-clock!

Even though he has countless devoted followers and his crew has told him they'd rather die than leave him, Buggy feels alienated and left out when he has to go to social events outside of Karai Bari Island. You'd never know it - he still acts as overconfident and egotistical as he always does - but the whole time he can feel judging eyes on him. He knows they don't take him seriously. He's just the weird little pirate who got lucky, no special skills or insane amounts of power in sight. That's what he's convinced their thinking, at least.

Crocodile and Mihawk, who have grown quite skilled at detecting when their beloved clown is hiding behind a facade of bravado, call him to a meeting. The two of them know something is off the moment Buggy walks into the room, and after some questioning and piecing the puzzle together they're able to discern the truth. Neither of them say anything about it. They just move on to actual business in a way that lets Buggy know they do care but they need time to think.

Fast forward a month or so and Cross Guild has been invited to a party that all the most powerful pirates with the highest bounties will be at. Crocodile and Mihawk finally put their plan into action a few hours before the event. They "make" (those chosen would have done it regardless but our resident goths have a reputation to keep) some of Buggy's most trusted crew members help him get ready, putting his hair in an elaborate style and ensuring his makeup is flawless. Once they complete their task Croc and Hawk swoop in to take their place; they worked together to design an outfit for Buggy that's as "flashy" as he loves while still being fancy. As he finishes getting ready they present him with the final pieces - two label pins shaped like Crocodile's hook and Yoru. They chose pins so that Buggy could still wear all his finest jewelry while still having his boyfriend's claim on him clear for all to see.

Once they're at the party Crocodile and Mihawk never leave Buggy's side; in fact, they subtly turn any attention given to them towards the clown. "Your new cannonballs do sound very formidable, but Buggy could do twice the damage with a ball half the size." "What a fearsome sounding crew. I wonder if they would be enough to beat Buggy and his hundreds of followers." Little compliments sprinkled in the conversation to hype up the blue-haired man. Between Crocodile's social skills and Mihawk's sneakiness, nobody realizes they're spending far more time showing interest in Buggy than conversing with his more powerful partners. The clown actually feels truly confident and like he's being treated as (somewhat) of an equal for once.

At the end of the night they meet in Crocodile's room dressed in their sleep clothes. Buggy's put the two pins in a small box shaped like a treasure chest to show his partners how much he treasures their gifts. They've all settled down and are about to fall asleep when the clown mutters one final comment. "Thanks for being by my side tonight, but you guys know you're as flashily great as I am, right?" He's out before the two can think of a reply.

It's the depression and poor self-esteem the clown shouldn't have because it hinders people From what I've seen it's hard to be someone that many people can rely on them.

Wonder how long did it take for them to fully understand their clown? Probably around six months or less... Who knows 🤷 Anyway, I'm thinking they found a way to make sure Buggy doesn't know that they pieced the puzzle together. That would be cool.

A party that has some of the strongest pirates with the highest bounties... The Straw-hats will be there... Oh boy, that will be a weird conversation to have, won't it! Anyway, yes them being right beside Buggy. Just destroying other people's achievements for Buggy!

That is just so cute!!! Buggy being more confident in himself, acting more like he was when he was younger. Not hiding behind a mask. As well as looking his best, wearing pins that represent Mihawk and Crocodile are always so cute!!!

Buggy putting the pins in a box, that's probably one of his most favorite treasures is so cute!!!

61 notes · View notes

ashintheairlikesnow · 3 months

Note

hey hey hey I have had a hell of a day (Actually Hell) because I did too many fun things (a problem apparently) and then also we put up the christmas tree leading to the inevitable christmas tree installation arguments (they pop up every year like clockwork!)

anyway i have been overstimulated and stressed (just want to emphasize that there is NO pressure here whatsoever! id like to avoid any semblance of that actually and I know you're already working on 12 days so take your time) and it would be very cathartic to see chris dealing with similar issues (the Wonderful guy. we are pretty similar.) thanks a lot for reading this, even if you don't write anything !

Sorry this took so long, Anon! I swear I've been trying to get this written for literally almost two months now

CW: Some references to Chris's past, overstimulation, anxiety

"Hey, where did Chris go?" Laken blinks and looks around, but the living room of the house they rent - filled with laughing, happy people - shows no sign of Chris's telltale lavender hair with its new-penny copper roots.

One of Brit's friends just shrugs at them and gestures, vaguely, in the direction of the kitchen. "Dunno. He wandered off a while ago, maybe that way?"

"Oh, okay. Huh." Laken steps back, the circle of laughing people closing up tight as soon as they do. Their dark eyes scan the room, but there's no sign of him.

He'd been doing great - all but holding court, one of the most popular people at the party. He's sort of famous, since the Olympics, and people had been peppering him with questions and compliments, crowding around wanting nothing more than to be friends with the ex-pet who stood up to the bad guys on live TV. They'd seen him dancing, too, the music loud enough to nearly make the walls shake. The easy, unselfconscious dancing they loved in him the most.

He'd seemed to be enjoying himself, at the time, but...

Where has he gone?

They weave around people, stopping to pick up an ornament that has fallen off the tree. The scent of pine is subtle and ever-present, and they carefully work the ornament's little loop back over a branch, ruefully watching a couple of pine needles come loose and drift down. The damn thing is already starting to turn a little brown around its edges, thanks to Laken's roommate having insisted on buying it literally the day before Thanksgiving.

Laken doesn't even celebrate Christmas, not since they stopped going to Mass on Christmas Eve years and years ago. Still, in a house they rent with three others, they're the only one who doesn't at least pay lip service to the holiday.

And even if they don't give a fuck about Christmas, they do like having an excuse to throw a party.

The tinsel wrapped in spirals around, over, and below the ornaments glitters in the light, and the look makes them think of Chris, and how his eyes have always looked just the same, to them, when they're out at night and the moon hits the green of his irises just right.

Their search leads them to Ben, contentedly sitting on the couch, a drink in one hand and his phone in the other, quietly reading something there while the party is in full swing around him. He glances up and then instinctively, immediately, uses a finger to push his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. "Hey, Laken. What's up?"

"Is Akio not coming tonight?"

"Oh... no." Ben blushes - it's adorable, and Laken can't help the smile playing around their lips. "He's got some kind of meeting with the gymnastics team, or his coaches? Or... something like that. He said sorry, though."

"Nah, no problem. But, hey, so. Uh, have you seen Chris, like within the last ten minutes or so??"

Someone puts Christmas music on and Laken shudders as they hear that damn 80s pop song start up again. If they have to hear that fucking song one more time...

"Nope. Not in a while." Ben shrugs, taking a drink. Whatever he has in that cup is pinkish-red and probably far more alcoholic than it tastes. Laken's roommate had insisted on a signature cocktail. "You could check outside? Sometimes when there's a lot of people, to Chris it's... too much."

Laken nods, still scanning the crowd, but their stomach knots a little with the first hit of real anxiety. Ben is right, Chris can get overwhelmed by too much noise and movement, but also he's been drinking tonight - they saw the same red punch in a cup in his hands earlier - and he has a tendency to get... hazy, when he drinks. Flirty in ways that aren't natural to him. Willing to let people hug him that he doesn't like, unable to bring himself to stop them. Sometimes his stammer smooths out, which makes people who don't know him feel more comfortable and people who do know him nervous. He starts tipping his head to the side in a way that makes the sweep of his growing-out hair hide the scar on his forehead, biting his lower lip when he smiles. It makes Laken feel a little sick to see it happen and realize Chris doesn't even notice when he's doing it.

The last thing they need is to have to come up with an explanation for Chris losing track of himself again, or why he's eating olives off the charcuterie board Brit brought knowing damn well he'll just go to the bathroom and get sick all over the place again, or... fuck, what if somebody hits on him and he's too drunk to stop it?

That hasn't happened since college, but...

They pull their phone out, uneasily checking for a text, but there's nothing. If he went outside, he'd text, right? He does, he always does. Texts can be easier and Chris is always a little nervous about being outside alone.

He insisted on coming tonight, said he was feeling good lately, but-... what if-...

They flinch when fingers touch their arm, only to see Ben must have stood up when they weren't looking. He slips his own phone into his jacket pocket and looks Laken over more closely. "Hey. It's okay, he's probably fine. You know he gets weird when parties are really going. It's like a light switch, enough to too much, I totally get it. It's why I'm on the couch fucking around on Kindle instead of, you know... talking to people." Ben says it like talking to people is literal hell, and... okay, Laken can see how that might be the case. "He probably just needed to get away from it and wandered off."

"Uh, yeah. I know." Laken rubs at the back of their neck, fingers moving through the soft, shorn undercut beneath their longer black waves. "I'm sure that's it. Just... you know, sometimes he... when he gets nervous..."

"I got you." They adore Ben, sometimes, for how often they don't have to finish the sentences they don't want to say. He knows what words haven't yet spilled, unwilling. Sometimes he acts like he belongs to us, not like he loves us. Sometimes I can't trust him to find his way back on his own. Sometimes I feel like Jake, and I hate feeling like Jake.

Words die in their throat.

Ben squeezes their arm, gently. "Let's split up and search around. I'll go outside, you go around the house, okay? We verify how he is, then whichever one finds him tells the other. Sound good?" Ben smiles, and Laken relaxes a little, finding a smile for him in return.

"Yeah, sounds good. Thanks, Ben."

"No problem." Ben has always understood Chris, thanks to his little brother being similar in some ways. He understands Laken's worry, too, because better than anyone else here - he knows how Chris sometimes gets lost in his past, especially if he's drinking, worse the maybe twice Laken's ever seen him try an edible or a pill.

What if he got drunk and someone offered him something and he took it? Drunk Chris sometimes isn't a Chris who can easily turn down anything he's offered.

This party was a stupid idea.

Laken takes a deep breath and squares their shoulders.

Chris is not a child.

He is a goddamn grown man and Laken is not his keeper. They're not his parent and they're not a babysitter. They're definitely not his fucking... owner or whatever the bastards that hurt him would have called it. They're his partner. He can handle himself, better than they could if they'd lived his life, and they need to trust him to either know his limits and to get away if he can't say no, or to come to them if he wants to ask for help. Otherwise, they're not any better than the bullshit he's been buried in for longer than he's known them.

Ben goes to check outside, slipping silently out the sliding door onto the back porch where a small crowd has congregated in a cloud of skunky smoke, while Laken heads upstairs, peeking their head in to room after room with no sign of him anywhere. They see some movement under a pile of coats, but that's... definitely not Chris, based on the very female voices who yell at them to give them some fucking privacy, please.

"Sorry, Brit," Laken calls, closing the door tightly. "And, um, Leigh. Just looking for Chris-"

"Well, he isn't in here or we'd have kicked him out already," Brit says, cranky but without any real anger in her voice. Laken doesn't recognize the redhead whose eyes pop up from beneath the pile of coats next to her. "Check a different room."

"Yeah, I will. Uh... keep having fun, I guess-"

"That's the plan! Now leave, please!"

The door latches as they close it, and they exhale. There's one room left, at the end of the hall, and they can hear a familiar murmuring from behind the door when they press their ear up against it.

Laken knocks, rapping gently with their knuckles, and turns the knob when they hear no answer - but no demand to stay out either. The murmuring goes silent. They sigh, and the door swings open, light cutting across the carpet until it reveals their wayward boyfriend.

No one has claimed this bedroom yet, so it's bare and empty except for a couple unpacked cardboard boxes, Brit's exercise bike by the window, a couple of her yoga mats, a laundry basket with a few folded towels, and a bare mattress the last housemate had left behind on the floor when they moved out.

Laken's lips press together, eyes scanning the room. Chris's phone is on the mattress, along with an empty beer bottle, but Chris isn't. "Chris? Cariño?"

A muffled rustling makes them jump, heart in their throat, and then they realize the sound came from the closet, where the folding doors are closed. Laken pulls them open to reveal Chris curled up, knees nearly to his chin, an open bottle clutched in one hand, his chewy necklace in the other. He'd chosen the bat one tonight, and his hand is closed around it in such a tight fist Laken can tell his knuckles are white even in the dark.

Chris doesn't look at them. He's swaying, rocking forward and back, his eyes focused on something far, far away from them. There's red lines on his left wrist, where he's dug his nails in, scratching not quite deep enough to draw blood, but close. Laken takes a deep breath, shifting into a crouch.

"Talk to me, Chris."

"No." The answer is flat, and they watch his thumb rub over the little nub of the silicone bat's nose, the points of its tiny ears. "No, no, no. No."

At least he's saying it out loud.

That alone makes the knot of anxiety in their chest start to loosen. If he can say no, he isn't gone, maybe just... standing a little farther back, inside his own head, than the surface.

"Okay. Okay, that's fine. No talking, that's fine. Are you okay, baby?" Laken keeps their voice just above a whisper and lays their hand on the wood trim that frames this shitty excuse for a closet, the floor creaking under them. "You... kind of vanished on me, there."

Chris's eyes flick to them and then away again. "Loud," He manages, and he sounds like he's forcing the word out between gritted teeth. Maybe he is. "Too, too, too... too loud. Too much, too... many."

"I guess Ben called it." Laken sighs, pulling out their phone and sending Ben a quick text that they found Chris and everything's fine. they get a thumbs-up in reply almost immediately. Ben must have been as anxious as they are, if he was just watching for their text to come in. "Do you want me to call Jake to come get you, or..."

"No!" He snaps it, and Laken tries not to wince. He's just struggling with the noise of the party, they tell themself, he's not actually angry. Chris almost never gets angry, and even then it's only at himself. Which... is worse, somehow. "No. Just... Quiet, it's... it's it's quiet."

"Right. Do you want me to stay with you? Be quiet with you?"

He shakes his head, but he doesn't say anything else. His mouth moves, but no further sounds come out.

"Chris, did..." They want to ask, did someone say something to you? Sometimes people said things, referenced pets or something in a way that set him off. But even if someone had... he probably wouldn't tell them, at least not now, not when every word seemed to have to filter through layer after layer of self-protection in his mind. "Never mind. Is there anything I can do for you? Water, or..."

He shakes his head. "No. Just. Um. Quiet... quiet, now. Please?"

"Yeah." Laken leans over and presses a kiss to his hair. He tips his head against their lips and they exhale in relief. "I love you, Chris. Come back if you can, but if you can't, that's okay, too. Just don't hurt yourself, okay? Things should start winding down in a couple hours." They take the little plastic bat and push it against the hand that's still scratching at his shoulder, until he takes hold of it again, pressing it against his mouth and running it back and forth, back and forth.

Chris is quiet, but as they open the door to head back into the hallway, they hear a quiet, "Love, love you," from Chris, barely audible.

They smile as they close the door. Down the hall, the sounds of the party hit them like a brick, beckoning them back to the noise and the cheer and the awful fucking Christmas music still blaring at top volume. Someone yells something out and the whole damn crowd cheers, making Laken wince at it feels nearly deafening.

Maybe Chris has the right idea.

@finder-of-rings @endless-whump @arlin-always-writing @newandfiguringitout @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @boxboysandotherwhump @oops-its-whump @whumpyourdamnpears @cubeswhump @burtlederp @whump-tr0pes @whumptywhumpdump @whumpiary @orchidscript @outofangband @hackles-up @grizzlie70 @mylifeisonthebookshelf @keeper-of-all-the-random-things

#whump #chris the strawberry blond romantic #recovery whump #recovering whumpee #overstimulation tw #autistic whumpee #referenced alcohol use #laken mamani #referenced dubcon #angst #fluff #comf #I guess this is the one that wins out first of the drafts?#we'll see if kauri or vince wins out next

39 notes · View notes

unclewaynemunson · 7 months

Text

Read from the beginning | Read on ao3

Eddie finally manages to let it go. Truly, he does. Whenever he and Karen Wheeler accidentally cross paths, he doesn't stare at her, follow her, or try to strike up a conversation with her; he doesn't do any of that inappropriate shit anymore. He keeps his distance, gives her no more attention than a polite nod in passing. He keeps wondering, sometimes, if she knows who he is – but he mostly manages to shove that thought to the far back of his mind, where it belongs.

When Nancy starts dating Grade A Douchebag Steve Harrington, he suppresses the hell out of any lingering Concerned Big Brother feelings and he doesn't spare the two of them a second glance whenever he walks past them in the Hawkins High hallways. And even when Barbara Holland goes missing, he doesn't fantasize about being a hero or a shoulder to cry on for this girl who has no attachment to him in any way. In another life, he'd be the one comforting her or helping her look for her best friend. But in this life, he's just some guy who has nothing to do with her business.

He does think it's odd that both of the Wheelers' best friends have gone missing within a few days of each other; but hey, what does he know? It's not his business, so he stays out of it. He stays far away from Will Byers' funeral and doesn't think about this other life, the life in which he'd help little Mike put on a suit and dry his tears. He merely lets out a relieved breath when he sees the two boys reunited about a month later, both giggling about some private joke with matching innocent smiles on their faces.

He doesn't fantasize about punching Steve Harrington in the face when the douchebag drags Nancy's name through the mud on the front of the Hawk and he doesn't reach out to her when she seems to grow smaller and paler over the course of the months that follow with still no news about Barbara. He doesn't even talk to her after the news breaks that Barbara is dead. He knows his place. He has learned to keep his distance.

Which is why he's taken by utter surprise when someone knocks on the door of the trailer one night and he's suddenly face-to-face with none other than Nancy Wheeler.

She doesn't exactly look like the little miss perfect he's come to know from the glimpses he caught of her over the years at school or in town. She looks... Well, she looks distressed, that's probably the best word for it. Her resemblance to Eddie has grown over the years, especially since she started sporting curls and her girlish features made way for something more grown-up. She looks like the loss of her best friend has forced her to mature quicker than she would've if her life was still the picture-perfect suburban dream it should've been. It suddenly strikes Eddie, when he looks into her eyes for the first time in years, how much more similar they've become exactly. They're not as different anymore as they once were. They both know more grief than most of their classmates. They're both haunted, in a way. They've both been forced to grow up when they weren't quite ready for it yet.

'Wheeler,' he says, keeping his voice as distant and careless as he can, complemented with an indifferent nod to make the whole thing as convincing as possible.

'Can I come in?' Nancy asks him.

He's got to say he's surprised. It's not an uncommon thing to have people knocking on his door at odd hours, shielded by the dark and with varying levels of desperation in their eyes while they ask Eddie for whatever it is they need to calm themselves down from whatever demons they've got going on. But it's not exactly something he was expecting from Nancy Wheeler, even though he supposes she has plenty of reasons to need some help calming herself down after the loss she suffered last year.

He knows he should keep his distance. He remembers the promise he made himself, for his own good, more than a year and a half ago. But the look in Nancy's eyes is making his heart weak.

'Sure,' he says before he can stop himself. With a bow he opens the door further and steps aside to let her in.

She looks a little lost, standing in the middle of the trailer with her perfectly styled hair and expensive-looking clothes.

'Whaddaya want?' he asks when she says nothing. 'Just some weed? I'm guessing something not too strong, you don't strike me like a particularly experienced person – do you even know how to roll? I can do it for you, but I'll have to ask for a fee of –'

'I'm not here to buy anything,' Nancy interrupts him. 'I – I just need to talk with you.'

'Talk with me?' he repeats, confused. ''Bout what?'

'About my mom.'

The implications of that simple confession hang heavy in the air between them. It's quiet for an endless amount of seconds, the two of them merely caught in each other's equally wide-eyed gazes.

'You knew, didn't you?' Nancy asks finally. 'That's why you were, like, stalking me back in my freshman year.'

He still doesn't know what to say; the only thing he can do is nod slowly.

'Can we talk?' she asks.

He sinks down on the ratty old couch with the faded cushions, which Nancy seems to take as an invitation for her to take Uncle Wayne's worn-down but insanely comfortable armchair.

Never in a million years would he have expected things to play out this way. Oh sure, he's imagined it, Nancy sitting across from him in the exact same chair she's sitting now; he's imagined it countless times. But he never actually thought it would happen. And certainly not like this.

For fuck's sake, just when he managed to let it go, it all comes crashing back... He doesn't know what to think, doesn't even know what to feel right now.

'Did she tell you?' he blurts out.

A humorless laugh escapes from Nancy's mouth.

'God, no,' she says. 'I think she's planning to take it to the grave with her. I snooped around in her stuff.' She doesn't seem too ashamed about it. 'I met this P.I. a few months ago, when I was trying to find Barbara. He said some weird things, about my mom. That she was hiding shit, keeping secrets. Johnathan kept telling me to let it go, but I couldn't, so I started digging and...' She sighs. 'I never expected this. But I just – I needed to meet you. To talk with you.'

She seems to hesitate for a moment, biting her lip. 'I'm so sorry she did that to you,' she finally says.

Eddie wants to tell her a million things: that it's not her fault, that she has nothing to say sorry for, that he's beyond glad she showed up at the trailer... But he feels pressure building behind his eyes and finds himself stunned, only able to blink rapidly in order to keep his tears from falling.

He tries to hide himself behind his hair and his hands, but there's no use; Nancy is smart, he won't be able to hide anything from her...

And suddenly she's right next to him on the couch, wrapping her thin arms around him and nudging him until he's leaning against her and his head is on her shoulder.

'It's okay, I'm here,' she murmurs, putting a hand in his hair.

And it's all so goddamn ridiculous. He can't count the times he imagined himself being the big brother this girl never had. All the times he dreamed about catching her when she'd fall, being a shoulder to cry on whenever she suffered loss or grief or pain in any way... Not once had he thought about a reunion where he would be the one breaking down in her arms like a fucking child.

But when he looks up, trying to get his breathing under control again, her face shows him a reflection of what he himself must look like: Nancy's lip is wobbling, her eyes are wet and traces of tears are visible on her cheeks.

It takes his breath away in a whole new way: he doesn't think he's ever cried with someone before. Sure, Wayne was never above comforting him when he was younger. But he's nineteen now, an adult who no longer lets his uncle see him when he cries. And no matter how close he is to Jeff, Freak and Gareth, he has never let any of them witness his tears.

'I'm really glad I found out,' Nancy says, her voice unsteady but sincere. 'You must've felt so lonely.'

Eddie can't help but return her tentative smile.

'Are you gonna confront your mom?' he asks.

Nancy sighs. 'I don't know,' she quietly confesses. 'I honestly don't think I can even look at her right now. I just – I needed to get away from there. I think I need some time to process all of it.'

Eddie almost bursts out into unbelieving laughter with what he's about to propose.

'Wanna make this a sleepover, then?' He makes a broad arm gesture towards their surroundings. 'I mean, we don't exactly have much here, but my uncle's at work all night and I think I got enough room in my bed for two. If you want to.'

Nancy gladly takes his offer, borrows one of Eddie's old shirts that don't fit him anymore, and crawls under the covers beside him. It all feels more than a little bit surreal; like Eddie will wake up the next day to a cold and empty bed, and the sisterly love he's been yearning for will turn out to have been nothing but a dream all along, slipping through his fingers yet another time.

But, surreal or not, they keep talking until well into the night. They're lying in mirroring fetal positions, facing each other from their own pillow. They let words rapidly stream out of their mouths as they desperately try to catch up on seventeen years of not being together before the sun comes up, in a race against the clock. Maybe Nancy feels the utter outlandishness of this whole situation as well, making it feel like they'll only ever get this night, instead of a whole lifetime to properly get to know each other. As if everything they tell each other will be gone by the time they'll wake up the next day, and they have to cram as many words into it as possible.

Finally, Eddie can stop imagining what it would've been like to grow up in the big house on Maple Street. Nancy tells him all about her parents' loveless marriage, her annoying little brother and spoiled little sister; about what it's like to eat in the spotless kitchen and play in the neatly maintained garden. About how she feels like that picture-perfect life has its fingers wrapped around her throat and has been slowly choking her for years.

She tells him about Barb: about how she's been feeling as if she's walking around with a gaping, throbbing wound in her chest ever since she lost her. About the guilt that's still consuming her more than a year later. About how she wishes every single day that she had done things differently on the night Barb disappeared.

She also tells him about her mother: about how she resents her sometimes, for settling for a marriage devoid of love and willingly inhabiting the cage of being a housewife. About how much she looks down on her for caring too much about things like tablecloths or apple pies or smudges on freshly cleaned windows – and about how much she loves her despite it all, for knowing how to listen when Nancy needs her to, and for encouraging Nancy to become something unlike herself. She confesses to him how fiercely she hates her right now, for abandoning a baby and keeping that from her family. She tells Eddie how she feels like she never truly knew her.

And he tells her things, too. He tells her what it was like growing up as the son of Clyde Munson. What it was like to be a child without a mother, to have nothing but a father raging about some bitch whenever he'd ask questions about this mystery woman who brought him into this world. How he could tell that his father still loved her, despite everything, because he refused to give up her secret.

He tells her what it was like when his father got locked up for grand theft auto and arson, what it was like to come and live with Wayne. He tells her how he found out who his mother was; how he ended up in the Wheelers' yard on the night he learned the truth, and how he could never stop staring at any of the Wheelers during the all the years that followed. He tells her how he let his obsession grow big enough to make him fail his senior year. He even tells her the one thing he's never told anyone before, not even Jeff: that he feels guilty towards Uncle Wayne every single day. The supply of love he gives to Eddie is endless, and yet it will never be enough: he'll always keep standing in the shadow of this fantasy of a family.

But he doesn't only talk about his messed-up family. He also tells her about good things: about his friends, his band, and his other passion projects. When he finds himself talking a mile a minute about D&D, Nancy smiles and tells him it must be a family trait, because her little brother is equally obsessed with that game.

They talk until their throats are sore; until Nancy's eyes are falling shut every two seconds and she can't stop yawning.

He has so many things to tell her, so many things to ask her, so many lost moments to make up for. He understands all too well that they're both almost adults and that there's no possibility to turn back the clock and pretend like they're little kids again. There's no way to get back the versions of them that might play hide-and-seek on the street in front of their house, or egg each other on to see who can swing the highest in the playground. Those are the memories they'll never get to make. But they're here. Against everything he ever expected, he's having a sleepover with his little sister. They're sharing secrets while wrapped up in the same blanket. They're only properly meeting each other for the first time, but they're already connecting like they've known each other all their lives. And, against all odds, they get to build something neither of them ever thought they'd have.

#don't mind me rambling about stranger things #they're siblings your honor #the saga continues #eddie munson #nancy wheeler #karen wheeler #stranger things #fruity ficlet

76 notes · View notes

bnhaobservation · 3 months

Note

What do you think the todofam will be like after the war?

It's something I've been wondering as well.

Let's start with a premise.

This story is aimed mainly to a Japanese audience which sees things according to their culture. Some things that for them are a given aren't for who's not Japanese and vice versa. So, it gets twice as difficult for us to follow the message Horikoshi wants to deliver.

Also... this is going to be long and actually should have been longer. I tried to keep it as short as I could but this might have caused to make it not perfectly clear so I apologize in advance.

Lastly, what follows are just my two cents, feel free to disagree.

Said so let's tackle the matter from a realistic perspective.

If BNHA were not a story but the real world, the Todoroki family is finished. Not because Enji abused his family, but because one of their members (Tōya) is a murderer.

A seinen manga "Theseus no fune" (テセウスの船) digs with what happens to a family of 5 after the father, Sano Bungo, was accused of murder.

The mother, who was at the time pregnant, was denied hospitalization to give birth to her child.

They had to hide their identity because each time it was discovered they were forced to move. People would also refuse to hire them if they were to know of it. The main character, the youngest child of the man, the one that was born AFTER his father was accused of murder, and who should have been named Seigi (justice) is named instead Shin (heart) because "there's no justice for the son of a murderer", has to take his mother's surname (along with the rest of the family), have to wear a mask to hide his face to work, so that he won't be recognized, had to give up on becoming a teacher and, although he managed to marry, his wife's relatives refused to accept the marriage. When the wife dies during childbirth, her parents attend tot he funeral but claim they couldn't tell anyone about it because otherwise people would know she married the son of a criminal. They also demand their grandchild to be handed to them because she can't grow up with the son of a murderer.

Note that said son of a murderer, never had any contact with his father as the man had been arrested before his birth, and therefore Shin clearly couldn't be responsible for his father's crime.

We see something similar happening in BNHA for people who're involved in minor crimes.

Tobita tried to help someone but failed and was accused of preventing a Hero from saving him.

He was expelled from school and his family was implied to be targeted with bullying (see the graffiti with insults on the gate?)

It got so bad even his family chased him away.

Jin goes through something similar. Due to being involved in an incedent he's fired and no one wants to hire him ever again so he ends up homeless.

It's implied the same happened with Himiko, though we don't know if she ended up on the run just after attacking Saito, knowing her parents wouldn't want her back, or after trying to go back home and being rejected.

While Himiko's house might have been further devasted AFTER she joined the league, we can see that the gate was already damaged when her parents still lived there just after she had attacked Saito.

Note that none of the three over mentioned characters had yet committed murder. Tobita wanted to help, and the man who he had been unable to save will recover in 6 months, Jin ended up running over a guy who ran in the street without warning but only broke his arm and, as far as we know, Saito didn't die due to Himiko's attack.

Yet, they're shunned by society and with them their families who turn their back to them.

Now picture how much worse this would be for someone who committed murder.

Tōya/Dabi himself touches upon how bad they should have it now.

'Hitotsu kikitēnda ga Shōto… omae ittai donna tsura shite? Obieru shimin to issho ni U.A. ni komotteiraretanda? ENDEAVOR no musuko Dabi no kyōdai yakusai no nikogori mite~e nate me ~e ga!!'

「一つ聞きてえんだが焦凍…　おまえ一体どんな面して怯える市民と一緒に雄英に籠っていられたんだ？　エンデヴァーの息子荼毘の兄弟　厄災の煮凝りみてぇなてめェが！！」

``I have to ask you one thing, Shōto... What the hell kind of face were you wearing? Were you able to stay holed up in U.A. with the frightened citizens? Endeavor's son, Dabi's brother, it's like a broth of calamity/disaster/misfortune! !”*

*okay, technically he says 'yakusai no nikogori' (厄災の煮凝り) which litterally is a "jellied broth of disaster/calamity", but the fact he chose the nikogori is also due to how the kanji used to write it are 'ni' (煮 "boil, cook") and 'gori' (凝 "freeze").

The people in U.A. should have wanted Shouto in it as much as they wanted Deku when he first showed up there, not even a bit, even though Deku did nothing wrong...

Something many fans often miss of this scene is that when Deku enters in U.A. all his classmates are there, except for Shōto, and that Heroes supporting Deku like Present Mic and Best Jeanist are there, but not Endeavor and Hawks.

Where are they? Just outside.

It will be Ectoplasm who will call them in when all is finished.

Why Shōto isn't with his classmates supporting Deku? Why Endeavor and Hawks remain outside?

It's not because they don't care but because they would make matters worse.

And Shōto, poor kid, is completely innocent, Enji might have responsibilities for what Tōya did but Shōto? Whatever he did wrong?

Yet, same Tamura Shin from "Theseus no fune", he's likely hold accountable for his brother and father's crimes as well as the rest of his family.

The story glosses it over, we see nothing being done against Shōto or the rest of his family, and his classmates act mostly supportive so he doesn't seem to have it bad, but the story likely doesn't show it because, for Japanese people, it's a given Shōto would have it bad, it's unnecessary to esplicitly show it and it would probably be too dark of a subject so Horikoshi skims on it, as in Japan it's public knowledge.

That's why Natsuo said all that awaits them is pure hell.

It was bad enough Tōya had killed people before but now he had attempted to nuke Japan and the Todorokis don't expect they will be 'forgiven' because they actually stopped him almost getting themselves killed in the process.

In a way Tōya has cornered them, their best option was actually to die with him.

So if we go for a realistic ending Enji will have to drop his job and the same goes for Fuyumi and Natsuo, Shōto should leave school, the family should live in hiding, being bullied and ostracized and this regardless of them having saved the day and of Tōya's fate (if he dies or lives, if he gets jailed, sentenced to death or spared due to his body condition being so disastrous he might end up needing permanently hospitalized... assuming they'll be willing to hospitalize him).

They would probably do better change name and country and attempt to start a new live under another identity and away from Japan... if the likely scarring burns they gained will allow them to live in hiding.

Now... this is a realistic fate for them.

BNHA however is a story, and it's a story which is also making a point of criticizing society. It doesn't hold just the Todorokis but also society as accountable for what Tōya did.

It's a story with a moral and if society doesn't get 'punished' or 'redeemed', or, more specifically 'atones', the moral ends up being that society can do any sort of thing to people and it will never be punished and if you retaliate you'll be squashed down. Not exactly an uplifting moral.

The League of Villains is born by society's sins. Generally for me the most meaningful thing is this scene.

Why? Because in my country if you are and adult and find on the streets an unsupervised kid of 5 and turn your eyes away, it's a crime even if he doesn't look in such a poor shape like Tenko.

All those people pretending not to see him would get in troubles. In Japan they aren't so strict but for me the scene looks particularly strong because it's basically a crime.

So I've really no sympathy for those people and, if the story wants to have an uplifting moral, society has to change, hold itself accountable for how it hurt Tenko and the others and atone toward them.

In the same vein society should reform and not mistreat the Todorokis the way it did with Tobita or Himeko's family but support them.

This however narratively presents some huge problems.

Society is a broad concept and BNHA didn't offer us one or more characters that could work as stand in for it.

The characters we get familiar with, often represent the best part of society.

For example we know there were corrupted Heroes, we know the HPSC had Lady Nagant kill corrupted Heroes but... did we ever met them? Nope.

Stain, who wanted to change society and erase corrupter Heroes who ended up attacking?

Some Hero who abused his power to commit crimes? Some Hero who actually was in league with criminals? Some Hero who actually was negligent in his work? Some Hero who, at least, throwed trash on the streets?

Nope. He attacks Īda's brother and Native... who overall seemed two decent guys.

This creates a clash of our perception in the story, the League attacked society but the characters we were presented with were usually great people.

The League undoubtedly perceives society as evil and worth being wiped out because they met the worse of it but... we didn't.

That's why many readers feel like the League should be jailed for terrorism but no one thinks the "Star Wars" rebels in the first trilogy should met the same fate for... the exact same crime.

In "Star Wars" first trilogy the empire is always represented as evil, all its soldiers are represented as evil and we've zero sympathy for them when they get wiped out.

But in BNHA society is not the empire, society is common people who've families and feel... innocent enough not to deserve what the League unleash on them, especially since BNHA had too few 'bad guys' among the good guys and, conveniently or not so conveniently, wiped out the HPSC before it could take the blame for many problems and we are instead way too often presented with 'good guys' characters.

So Horikoshi has to find a way to deliver the message that if said society ended up under attack, it was actually due to its shortcomings.

Tōya told Enji the past never dies and you reap what you sow...

...but this applied to society too.

In response later on Enji will realize he'll have to atone to him and apologize to him.

In theory society should do the same... so that the story could have an uplifting moral of society learning from its errors and never again repeating them so that people will be better and the League of Villain will never be reborn in the future... however... it's much easier for us to apply all this to Todoroki Enji than to the BNHA society.

It's very fairy tale to assume that society will say "hey but if we didn't mistreat those guys first, they wouldn't have done what they did, shouldn't we also make amends?"

I don't really know if Horikoshi will be able to pull this off in a convincing manner, or if he'll be allowed to do it because one of the problems in his story is he can't allow to come to pass the idea that what the League did was an acceptable response.

We see it in the attack at Central Hospital.

In theory the story should end with a similar situation.

Shōji acknowledged that the Heteromorphs were hurt and persecuted but turning to violence wasn't acceptable

...and then somehow the Heteromorphs changed their mind and stop fighting and the people said they heard their voices today and they're sorry for not realizing it sooner and everyone cries and all's well that ends well and many readers hate this arc (for which SO MUCH could be written) and label it poor writing and it's actually a very minor bit so...

I don't know if Horikoshi now has used the people's response to it to perfect his ending in a way that won't have backlash.

So back to your question, what about the Todorokis?

Hopefully since Horikoshi wants to go to a positive and uplifting ending, the Todorokis will be spared from a fate that will be hell.

After all they made a big deal of how things were being recorded on videos. Society might be impressed by how this family came together to save everyone and might feel bad for them as well as partially responsible.

If society will come together instead than ostracizing and mistreating people, the Todorokis might not be end up driven into a corner.

In the same vein the Todorokis will likely come together as a family.

That is because I'm assuming that the idea Horikoshi wants to come to pass is that you've to PREVENT people from going bad, not punish them once the deed is done and by coming together they prevent the situation from worsening.

So, I'm willing to bet the plan is that Natsuo is wrong and no, it won't be hell for them from now on, though it likely won't be easy.

I don't know if Tōya and the rest of the League will survive, because it would be damn convenient for Horikoshi to have them die, so that he won't have to face the whole punishment thing.

If they're dead they can't be punished nor society can be asked to atone to them for what they did to them, and so Horikoshi can focus on society coming together and supporting the people who're less 'cuplable' and reforming itself easily enough in such a way that would fit the kind of fairy tale nature of BNHA.

At the same time killing the league off is such a goddamn easy solution for the problem I really pray he won't go for it... but I recognize with the League he kept the bar really very high.

So I would love for Tōya to survive and heal and be given another chance and this time, with support from his family and society, become a better person, and the same goes for the rest of the League, but I don't know if Horikoshi can, is willing and will be allowed to pull this off.

We can only wait and see.

For now, I think it'll probably be safe enough to assume that at the end the Todoroki family will come together and they won't be in hell but Fuyumi will be allowed to continue to work as a teacher and Natsuo will be allowed to continue to study and will marry his girlfriend. I aslo think Shōto will be allowed to become a Hero. As for Enji he might retire. I know people would want to see him jailed for his family abuse but since no one in his family is willing to file charges against him I'm pretty sure this won't happen. Likely he also won't divorce from Rei.

Tōya's fate through remains a mystery.

I'd like for him to end up hospitalized and for his family to stay and support him, for Enji to atone to him and finally look at him but well, we can only wait and see for this.

As much as I hate the idea we were told Tōya (who shouldn't have managed to survive away from Garaki's support) survived till now due to his grudge to his family, if he were to let it go he might just die... albeith in that case he would probably die in peace because he would finally feel loved by his family. We'll see.

Thank you for your ask!

#boku no hero academia #Todoroki Enji #Todoroki Shouto #Todoroki Touya #bnha spoilers #Todoroki Rei #Todoroki Natsuo #Todoroki Fuyumi #Ask #Shigaraki Tomura #Toga Himiko #Bubaigawara Jin #Shouji Mezou

35 notes · View notes