#my housemate owns the house and he works from home | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

In 2020, 44% of users from Denmark used Tumblr daily.

#my housemate owns the house and he works from home

trashmouth-richie · 1 year

Text

Eddie x Fem! Reader [vol ii]

Summary: you were desperate for a roommate after Nancy got married and moved out. An ad in the paper goes unanswered until someone comes knocking on the door.

W.C 3.8k

Trigger warning: enemies to lovers trope, eventual smut, language, crude behavior, Eddie is a fucking menace 🖤 this will be a series 💋

{a/n} I probably should have added this when I originally posted it. But I’m a little dumb— anyway, this is my submission for @newlips ’s milestone of love hope you all enjoy it 💋 I truly enjoy writing and I wouldn’t be here without the support you all as readers/ fellow writers bring to me every single day! Thank you all from the bottom of my heart ♥️

He wasn’t your first option for a roommate, in fact he was so far off your radar for a potential housemate, you damn near shrieked when you saw him. But when nobody had showed up besides him to view the small two bedroom house that you were forced to sublease after your roommate got married— you didn’t have a fucking choice. It was too expensive to run another ad in the Hawkins Post and summer was coming to a close. You were fucked.

“You’re fucking kidding me,” you snarl as you throw open the door to see his stupid grin. Always too toothy, too goddamn endearing. Made your stomach bind up. “No, no way.”

Standing in all his sadistic leather glory was Eddie fucking Munson. He’s taller than he used to be, still a long haired asshole, reeking of weed and cheap deodorant. What kind of sick twisted joke is this? Did you really piss off mother karma that bad that you have to live in a separate, more fucked up layer of hell? Fuck you Dante, and your inferno. There’s not a single other person in this town who needs somewhere to stay?!

He pushes his way into your home, leaning forward with a shit eating grin, eyes hooded and winking as your lips curl in disgust. “Nice to see you too sweetheart.” He taunted. Licking his lips as he stalked past you, his filthy work boots tracking dirt onto the carpet.

“Yuck — do not— call me that,” you hissed, you stand with your hand still on the knob, not fully committing to wanting to shut the door— praying that he was some sort of a hallucination.

“You gonna show me around, or should I raid your panty drawer while you sulk?” A dimple dips into his cheeks as his stupid grin grows wider on his face.

You slam the door with a thud, “kitchen, living room, my bedroom, the other bedroom, bathroom, garage, laundry in the basement.” You’re practically shouting, as you stomp around the small space, pointing to the direction of each room, taking a grand total of twenty seconds to point everything out, not giving a fat rats ass if he was following you or not. His laugh echoes off the walls, taunting you, making your skin crawl and your ears itch. You turn around to find him quick on your heels, your face almost smashing into his grease covered work shirt.

He doesn’t move, or make any attempt to step away from you, forcing you to put the space between you both, stepping back and smoothing down your hair. His eyes kill to yours, dark swirls of muddy browns searching your own, he asks, “Why do you get the bigger room?”

The fucking audacity of this man. You could wring his neck right now and nobody would even know.

“Excuse me?” You question, peering into his chocolate eyes, waving a finger in his face, “maybe because It’s my fucking house, you’re lucky if you’ll get a room at all.”

He leans his head back with a laugh, letting it slam forward as he deadpans, creeping forward and stepping around you, waiting til he’s behind you to whisper in your ear, “I’m lucky? That ad was in the paper for over a week,” he seethes, “I bet I’m the only one who showed up to view the place, so nice try, Tooty— but you’re desperate for the cash.” He wasn’t wrong, you were desperate, the salon paid okay but Josie just upped the price on your rental chair, making your mortgage almost impossible for you to pay on your own.

“…I’m doing you a favor. So, if you want me to pay rent and utilities, then I’ll, so graciously, be taking the bigger room.” His breath fans across the back of your neck, making the hairs stand up, and goosebumps riddle your skin. You turn to face him, hands on your hips trying to show how serious you are.

“I know it took you like four times longer to graduate than anyone in United States history, but you can’t possibly be this damn dumb.” It was a cheap shot and you know it, but who does he think he is? Barging in here with demands like a fucking A list celebrity. Not today, mother fucker.

A comment that would have normally made anyone else burst into tears, or at least leave hollering ‘bitch!’ as they stomped out to their car, only fuels Eddie’s perverted fire, “Ooo, an insult and a scolding, what’s next a spankin’?”

Your hard-ass facade drops, your face faltering to one of disgust instead of stern, don’t-fuck-with-me, boss lady, “Get out, Munson.”

“Nah, I think I’ll stay.” He saunters towards the kitchen table and pulls out his wallet, of course its a chain wallet, you roll your eyes as he starts forking over an impressive amount of bills and sets them down, one by one.

“Here’s my first month, last month and deposit.”

The total is way more than what you’d even told him but you're still tongue tied from his comments, he lives for this shit and you had fallen for it—rookie mistake.

“I’ll be back in a few hours to start moving stuff in.” He smiles widely, moving towards the door, “See you then, roomie.”

His figure haunts you for the next few hours you have left of peace. His smell lingers around the house, you shove open every window you can, including the one that was painted shut by the previous owners. He was so fucking annoying. Is that supposed to be charm he was throwing at you? Fucking barf. The only thing you were feeling was rage, and that you needed to shower after feeling his breath on your skin. Lighting every scented candle you can find, Sugar cookie and beach sands will do— the smell slowly wafts out of the windows. You shower quickly, figuring better do it now than after he arrives, the dreaded walk in a towel from the bathroom to your room was something you hadn’t thought of until this second. Hot water sprays against your skin, assaultingly hot, almost blistering the skin on your back.

You are seething, raging mad. If you were a cartoon, smoke would be funneling out of your ears. Mocking him, you think of better comebacks than you had thought up earlier. Scrubbing your skin until you resembled a lobster, and angrily scratching your scalp. “What’s next a spankin?” GOD he’s so nasty, the sheer nerve of him makes you want to throw a toaster into the shower with you. Nothing a few volts can’t fix. You towel off, looking at your reflection in the mirror as you wipe away the condensation. The stress of the day slowly melted off as it was rinsed down the drain.

You’re applying your eye cream when a—loud as fuck— knock on the door shakes the walls.

“Honey, I’m home!” Eddie hollers as you peek through the glass. He’s carrying a duffle bag and a 30 pack of Busch Light. 3 smiling idiots are behind him, two passing a joint back and forth while balancing a very worn mattress, the other swaying on the sidewalk holding a guitar, most likely already drunk.

Tucking the tail end of the towel wrapped around your head into itself, you fling open the door, “Jesus Christ Eddie, will you shut up! I have neighbors you know!”

“Oooo— first fight!” One of the idiots with shaggy blonde hair preens.

Your glare could compete with lasers against his skin, prying through his epidermis and burning the vessels.

Eddie lets out a laugh, “aww sweetheart, I didn’t know you were planning a slumber party!” he says gesturing to your towel and pink robe. “Give me about 30 minutes and I’ll be braiding your hair and you can paint my nails, give me all the hot gossip!”

You turn with a huff half closing the door behind you. The gaggle of idiots roaring with laughter at Eddie’s joke.

He pushes through the door into the house, tossing his bag onto the table, knocking over the napkin holder and the stack of mail, letting out a loud sigh. He rips the thirty pack open on the side, making the beers crash to the floor. You still your eyes and cross your arms, unamused by his stupid antics. He cracks one open, slurping up the spray of suds as it puddles around his hand and down onto the carpet. He kicks a beer towards you and raises his up in triumph. “Here’s to you roomie, Home Sweet Home!”

You’re so fucked.

“Robin, I’m seriously going to kill him. I don’t care if I have to go to jail—anything would be better than this!” you whisper-yell into the phone, you watched Eddie and his band of misfits bring in box after box, most of his stuff was in black plastic garbage bags. They formed a line throwing the bags to one another and the last one haphazardly tossing them into his room.

“Oh relax! A hunk like him moving in and you don’t even have to pay him? You just hit the jackpot!” She giggles on the other end of the phone, smacking through her licorice.

“More like jackass with all the shit he’s moving in.”

You’re hunkered in your room, between the wall and your bed, twirling your bedroom phone cord through your fingers, “Seriously the place smells like weed so bad I’m probably getting a contact high as we speak.”

Robin lets out a throaty laugh, “Might do you some good, you’re so fucking tense all the time.”

“Sorry—” you say, twiddling the blue carpet fibers through your fingers, “I’m just stressed after Nancy moved out is all.” It wasn’t a lie, Nancy moving in was a huge relief to you, she took care of almost everything. Organizing bills, scheduling pest control when needed, she even wrote the garbage pick up days and hung it on the garage door. With her gone, this all falls on you. “What if he steals my stuff in the middle of the night and bails?”

She curses your full name, “He may be a lot of things, but a thief is not one of them—seriously you have nothing to worry about, calm your boobies!”

“Boobies!” Steve yells, joining the room Robin was in, “it’s Eddie, he’s a total nerd, you’ll be fine.”

“If he’s so great Then you can live with him Steve!”

“Nope, no can do,” he says around a mouthful of food,

“I gotta keep this clumsy oaf on a short chain”

“Oh, you’re dead Harrington.” The phone drops and all you hear is squealing and thudding of feet running around.

“Robin! Not my shampoo! ”

“Steve? Robin?” You wait in silence as the line goes dead, “Uhh!” Slamming the phone into the receiver you hear Eddie and his leather clad Barbarians holler goodbye to one another. One too many “see ya later man” ’s and you’re practically puking. You open the door to your room and poke your head out. Watching closely as Eddie tears through garbage bags, unloading heaps and heaps of clothing, an entire bag dedicated to just band shirts, another revealed bedding that was quite literally rolled up and thrown into the bag. A quick sniff test has him turning up his nose.

The kitchen is taken over by Eddie’s stuff, more bags, more boxes, a cookbook titled: The Dungeonmeister Cookbook is sitting on the stove. A stack of Burger King collectible Disney cups is cluttered around the microwave. Along with an impressive amount of neon twisty straws and a bowl with a straw connected to drink the milk.

It’s like a small child moved into your home instead of a grown ass man.

Opening the fridge to get an apple, you can’t help but notice Eddie also moved some refrigerator items with him as well. Two big bottles of hot sauce, more beer than the local bar probably holds, a half drank carton of orange juice, and a giant jar of pickles, without a lid. Huffing with annoyance you step over Eddie’s bags of shit and get a knife from the drawer to slice the apple. The loud shrill screeching of 80’s metal almost makes you cut your finger. Stomping into Eddie’s room with your fuzzy slippers you don’t bother on knocking before you look for the plug to his cassette player, unhooking it from the outlet and pointing the knife in his direction, you all but scream in his face, “I almost cut my fucking finger off! Turn it down or I’ll cut the goddamn cord!”

He’s sitting crossed legged on the floor, cassettes littering his lap, his eyes almost bored, “aww Tooty I’ll play with you in a little bit, daddy just has to get some things done first, ‘kay?”

You roll your eyes in disgust, did he seriously just refer to himself as ‘daddy’?

“God you are foul,” you retort, throwing the cord down onto the carpet and placing the knife on a nearby box, “wouldn’t surprise me if you were a dad.”

Eddie throws his head back with a chuckle, “why? You into dad bods? Listen sweetheart, my metabolism will slow down eventually, gimme three—four years max and I’ll be all gut.” He flashes his pearly whites towards you and winks.

Ignoring him completely, your nose scrunches. “Stop calling me that!” your heart is pounding in your chest fury on high, “what the hell is that?”

“That,” Eddie says batting his eyelashes, “would be my masculinity wafting from my aura to yours, why does it turn you on?”

You fold your arms over your chest, and shift your slippered feet beneath you, “Do you have a certain amount of disgusting phrases you have to get out throughout the day or are you just naturally this nauseating to be around?”

“No idea, anyway,” Eddie continues, standing to his full height and shucking off his jacket and tossing it to the ground, “I’m gonna order a pizza you want in?”

“Maybe you should finish unpacking,” you say taking a quick glance around the clothes strewn everywhere around the room, “it’s a fucking mess in here.”

Eddie leans in close eyes ghosting over your features as they gawk over your lips, “well, sweetheart, maybe if you had given me the bigger room— like I had asked for— I would have enough space to put my stuff, besides,” he says, standing up and leaning backwards to crack his back, a small trail of hair peeking out from his waistband makes your breath hitch in your throat, “I bought dressers and they’ll be delivered on Monday, so my clothes don’t have a place to go right now, unless you wanna split your closet?”

“I’d rather drop dead.”

“Aww don’t do that, far too pretty to be dead, and what would the neighbors think?” He strips off his shirt and throws it in the corner of his room, your eyes dart away but not before catching a glimpse of his pale skin.

The small tattoos he had in high school are slightly faded with time, new ones are inked down his arms, across his chest and down his side. You can’t help but notice the silver hoops pierced through his nipples as they reflect light and draw you in towards his chest. He’s lean but built, no defining abs but the muscles in his arms could be carved from a sculptor, replicating a greek statue. Surely minutes have gone by but in reality it has only been seconds, you don’t even realize he’s still talking.

“…don’t need to give the cops more of a reason to watch me more than they already do.” He drops his eyes to your face, seeing you peek at his body. A grin is plastered to his lips as they curve upwards, he stretches his arms out wide, the veins in his arms protruding further out, oh what you’d give to just touch it with your hands, your tongue— wait what?—“Shit,” he says, drifting forward, your body pulling away from him, “looks like you aren’t into dad bods after all.”

Your cheeks flare red as you stomp out of his room, his joker laugh vibrates the walls as you slam your door. Throwing yourself on the smooth purple cotton of your comforter, and screaming into your pillow.

Nobody ever got under your skin the way he is. Why are you allowing him to frustrate you this much? He’s a boob. A pimple on your ass. That annoying twitch that your eye sometimes does when you don't have enough sleep. Yes, the festering wound, the bad rash that kept coming back, the burn in your belly, the thorn in your side— is now your roommate. Fuck.

A knock on your bedroom door, brings you back to your current state of throwing a hissy fit. You launch your cup of pens that adorns your nightstand at the door.

“Does that mean you don’t like pineapple on your pizza?”

Thank God you showered before Eddie started unloading his stuff, because he has been in the bathroom for at least a half hour. You’re sitting on the couch, the same rough, itchy upholstery that used to take up way too much space in the Wheeler’s basement. But a $20 bill and Nancy promising her dad that she would mow the lawn for the entire summer of ‘91, and it was now yours. Karen would sigh with relief that the ugly furniture was leaving, meaning her living room would get an upgrade as their now living room furniture would find solace in the basement. No longer stinking of cheesy pizza farts and bad B.O., or screaming threats from middle school boys about the inner demons of DnD, Mrs. Wheeler would come to miss the yelling, and the rotten stench of boys running amuck in her house. Nancy parted with the under stuffed, well loved, hideous piece of furniture when she moved in with Jonathan. So now, the outdated, wagon wheel patterned couch, was all yours.

The smell of finger nail polish fills the living room as you attempt at painting your toenails a shimmery blue that you had gotten at the mall with Robin. A fuzzy navel wine cooler tucked between your legs, you’re trying hard to get it finished before a new episode of “The Nanny” comes on. Eddie is singing in the shower, loudly. You recognize the tune as “Come As You Are” by Nirvana. Not that you were admiring the way his voice sounded. You were just surprised that a twenty six year old weirdo actually knew good music. The doorbell rings, snapping you out of, yet again, another strange spiral of thinking about Eddie Munson.

“Eddie!” You holler from the living room, “door.”

“Money’s in my wallet, just pay the dude quick and I’ll be out in a minute.” He yells back from the shower.

“Eddie, I’m busy— get the fuck out here and do it yourself.” There is no way you are walking around with wet toenails, what the hell was he thinking?

“I’m in the middle of washing my ba— “

“Alright! Fine!” You walk on your heels to the door, opening it quick to find a Hawkins High student in a red hat with the pizza logo on it.

“That’ll be $19.50,” he says with a less than enthused remark.

“Hang on,” walking back to the bathroom on heeled feet you knock on the door, “where’s your wallet?” you ask in a hurry through the door.

“Uh, my jeans I think,” Eddie yells back. You cross into Eddie’s room, looking around the mess he made, realizing the only thing he managed to make an attempt at organizing was his never ending cassettes, a few records, and an old record player. Posters decorated every wall. Metallica, Nirvana, Judas Priest, Black Sabbath, and White Zombie. The clothes were piled high in a mountain of leather, flannel and white cotton socks. Not a single pair of jeans that you could see. His bed sat on the ground, cluttered with notebook papers, dice, and tightly rolled joints.

“Eddie!” You yell from his room, “where the hell are your jeans?”

A chuckle echoes in the bathroom, muffled slightly by the spray of the shower head, “they’re in here, sweetheart.” His voice dripped with smugness and sweet notes of laughter.

Fuck it, we don’t need pizza. I can eat cereal. I’ll just tell the pizza kid to leave and Eddie can fend for himself. Fuck this.

“Tooty?” He calls from the shower, enunciating every syllable. “Come on,” he sings, laughing to himself, “I promise I’ll stay behind the curtain. You won’t see a thing— unless of course— you want to.”

You barge through the door, fumbling through Eddie’s jeans pockets, finding the black leather of his chain wallet and yanking out $25. An idea crosses your mind and you can’t help but go through with it. A flick of the lights had Eddie cursing every word imaginable as he was cast into darkness.

Thrusting cash into pimple head’s hand and shutting the door, you walk into the kitchen to get some plates. Eddie emerges from the bathroom. His hair is dripping in long strands, and your robe is wrapped right around his body, barely covering his southern region. The pink terry cloth material lined with lace looking absolutely ridiculous on his tattoo covered body.

Oh— this mother fucker.

“Are you seriously wearing my robe?” You ask, hands on your hips, nails digging into the cotton pajama shorts you’re wearing.

Eddie does a spin and swings his hips in a circular motion, his dick swinging like a helicopter.

“Well sweetheart, when you so rudely turned the lights off on me, I was forced to find the first thing I could to dry off with, and besides— you can’t deny how good I look,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows, smiling the widest smile you had ever seen from him.

A lump of anger and sheer rage catches in your throat, “you’re repulsive,” you say, turning away from him and tossing pizza onto plates.

“And you,” Eddie says sliding beside you, his breath fanning your cheek, the cold drops of water from his curls pressing into your shoulder as he grabs a greasy slice of pizza straight from the box, “are extremely uptight.” The whites of his teeth bite into the cheesy triangle and chew loudly as he smacks his lips, licking the orange grease from his lips.

Anger boils in your belly, filling your veins with agitation so thick they’re bound to clog up. “I. Am. Not. Uptight,” you seethe through clenched teeth, and closed eyes.

“Yeah, sure sure,” Eddie says, mouth full of pizza, and his eyebrows raised, “whatever you say.”

You weren’t always this high strung. But having everything ripped away from you, would make anyone pretty goddamn bitter to the lemonade life had to offer.

vol ii

volume ii

A/N: thank you to everyone for reading this and continuing to support my crazy ideas. Thank you to everyone I had beta this story—@agentmarvel @pinkrelish + @sweetsweetjellybean you all push me to be a better writer and I am forever grateful for that ♥️♥️🖤💋

Taglist: @luna-munson83 @tlclick73 @idkidknemore @joejoequinnquinn @newlips (omg, they were roommates)

#newlipsmilestoneoflove #eddie x you #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #enemies to lovers #eddie munson x you #eddie x reader #mechanic!eddie #eddie munson #eddie fanfic #eddie fanfiction

3K notes · View notes

fushiglow · 1 month

Text

satosugu mailman au 💌

a very special delivery for @kymsys's birthday! how many days will it take for satoru to fall in love with his new mailman? let's find out!!

here's part one for my tumblr pals to enjoy! however, i'll be posting this work over quite a few days over on twitter/x, so please head over there if you want to follow along! if you don't have an account, i'll be uploading the entire thing to my ao3 when it's done — so don't fret ♥️ enjoy the fic!!

There were three things Gojō Satoru loved above all else: sweets, scale model kits, and sleep. He was a simple man in that sense — really, he asked for very little except a healthy supply of sugary treats, the occasional plastic mech, and an undisturbed lie-in seven days a week. So, when the shrill ring of his doorbell wrenched Satoru from a beautiful dream at exactly 8am on a Monday morning? Needless to say, he wasn’t pleased. Now, Satoru wasn’t an unreasonable person. He understood that the rest of the world started moving a little earlier than him — which is why Satoru had taken special measures to protect his precious rest without hindering anyone else. He’d chosen a job that allowed him to work from home, forgone the company of a housemate in favour of living alone, and — most importantly for a hobbyist like Satoru who ordered more kits, paints, and crafting tools than any one person needed — installed a secure parcel drop box outside his front door, preventing the need for anyone to pester him. That’s why Satoru didn’t bother getting out of bed after the first ring, assuming that the person who’d decided to disturb him would eventually figure it out for themselves. Perhaps they were a bit slow though — because less than thirty seconds later, the doorbell came screaming through the house again. Swearing into his pillow, Satoru pulled the duvet up to his ears. All he could do was hope they’d leave quickly so he could snatch at least some sleep in the 45 minutes left until his alarm went off. No such luck. Right when Satoru thought it was safe to relax, the doorbell started up again — and this time, it didn’t stop. With a stream of profanities falling from his lips, Satoru hauled himself out of bed, seeing red as he stomped down the stairs and marched across the hallway to the front door. He flung it open with a frustrated snarl, preparing to share some choice words with the impatient piece of shit on the other side — only for his insults to die on his tongue at the sight of the man standing before him. The broadest shoulders he’d ever laid eyes on; thick arms, tanned and toned; a muscular torso tapering down to a tiny waist — and all packaged in a uniform, for god’s sake. When Satoru finally managed to lift his jaw off the floor, he looked up at the man’s face and the damn thing unhinged from his skull all over again. He was all sharp cheekbones and sunkissed skin and the sweetest smile Satoru had ever seen. Perhaps a little too sweet now that he really looked at it. ‘I think your doorbell is broken.’

Sure, the guy was hot — easily the prettiest person Satoru had ever seen — but that didn’t stop his eye from twitching at the blatant passive aggression masked behind that sickly sweet smile. Satoru matched it with one of his own. ‘I assure you, it’s not.’ ‘Oh, I’m so sorry!’ Satoru didn't think he seemed sorry in the slightest — even if his voice did sound like melted chocolate. ‘I’ve got a parcel for Gojō Satoru?’ When hot mailman tilted his head to the right, a lock of glossy black hair fell into his face. Too short to secure in his bun and too short to tuck behind his ear, he simply brushed it away from warm eyes the colour of honey. Satoru wondered if every part of him was as gorgeous. ‘It needs a signature.’ Shocked out of his stupor, Satoru's gaze travelled to the box at the right of the door. ’The regular guy always puts them in there.’ Hot mailman simply beamed at him. ‘Do I look like the regular guy to you?’ No, Satoru thought. There’s nothing regular about you. As though he could read minds, hot mailman winked at him. ‘Then I’ll need a signature, please.’ And god — he was so effortlessly charming that, for the first time in his life, Satoru found himself speechless. For a long moment, he simply stood there, gawping like an idiot. When hot mailman eventually quirked an amused eyebrow in his direction, Satoru had no choice but to take the signature pad being waved at him, managing to make a hash of his name before wordlessly handing it back. Having completely and utterly embarrassed himself, Satoru had started to retreat into the safety of his home when a strong hand closed around the edge of the door. Hot mailman popped his head around the side. ‘You forgot your parcel.’ Satoru watched those amber eyes as they slid down the length of his body — and hot mailman's sickly sweet smile morphed into a devilish grin. ‘Your clothes, too.’ Glancing down at himself, Satoru’s heart stopped in his chest when he realised he’d answered the door in nothing but his boxers — and not fitted Calvin Kleins that emphasised what he was working with either. No, the ratty, stretched out Digimon boxers he’d owned since he was 17. With a mortified squeak, Satoru snatched the parcel from hot mailman’s hands and slammed the door in his face, uncaring of whether his stupid bangs got caught in the doorframe. Tossing the package onto the floor, Satoru brought his palms to his rapidly heating cheeks, taking a moment to stare into the silence of his hallway. Then, he summoned all the air in his lungs and let out the single loudest ‘fuck!’ he’d ever produced. Hot mailman’s beautiful laughter travelled down the entire length of the driveway.

#hbd my love!! 🫰#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #satosugu #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jjk fic #gojo satoru #geto suguru #sugusato #stsg #sgst #五夏 #夏五 #goge #gego #呪術廻戦 #my writing #fushiglow

91 notes · View notes

s1mpactafterhours · 1 year

Text

ok so i did a variation of this over on the sfw genshin main BUT i also wanted to make a filthy version too bc like my brain's been wandering- but anyway.. hear me out 🗣👏🏻

al-haitham coming home and barging into his housemate's room to tell him something or ask about something (etc etc) and accidentally walking in on kaveh absolutely plowing you, like you're both going at it hard until you suddenly hear the door open. (kaveh had assured you he wasn't supposed to be home until much, much later!) and so you're just desperately trying to cover up or hide or something, anything- but kaveh's noticed the way al-haitham looks at you, even if the man himself has no idea yet, so he just keeps going at it, witness be damned. al-haitham makes some offhand remark about how neither of you have any decency, but if he weren't wearing those damned headphone looking contraptions you'd be able to see just how red his ears were.

this is unfortunately how he begins to come to terms with his attraction to you, and unknowingly begins his learnings of the ways of heartache. kaveh pays this no mind, feeling that he's finally got the upper hand on his smart ass, seemingly unshakeable housemate. he's on a mission to make you scream his name, as many times as possible, as loud as possible. at some point, though neither of you hear it, al-haitham just ends up slamming the door on his way out, leaving to go to the library or literally anywhere else.... but not before guiltily rubbing one out. you two provided the perfect background noises he never knew he needed, but more importantly, it was your moans that were driving him insane. how would you sound screaming out his name all night long instead?

so off he goes to busy himself with work, so much work, so much that he ends up taking on extra work just to distract himself from the honeymoon phase you're both in, and the way kaveh just can't seem to stop showing you off in front of him. he can already tell the latter is doing so on purpose, but he refuses to let the blonde get the better of him. you're aware that something is going on, but attribute it to their weird relationship and how they're just always fighting.. though it has been awfully quiet lately, and you're starting to get suspicious. kaveh is quick to assure you that al-haitham is just very busy with work, and he's even quicker to get handsy with you. cuddles while he works on his projects, hands on across your shoulders or thighs at dinner, all the nights you two fuck your stress out before collapsing together in bed.. you're far too entranced by your seemingly sickly sweet lover to see through the haze, but it's always harder to think straight when you're getting your back blown out (or blowing him out-) ..and so, you don't.

and even as al-haitham has time to get himself back together, he can't help but wonder if maybe things would have turned out differently had he been more aware of his own feelings. if he had asked you out first, would that be how the both of you would be now? or had you always only had eyes for kaveh? the questions that used to keep him up at night become mindless chatter as he tries (and fails) to block you both out on the other side of unfortunately thin walls. but life goes on, and so does your relationship, and before you all know it, you're making plans to move in together, to share your lives together, and suddenly al-haitham finally knows what loneliness feels like.. all alone in a house that used to house shenanigans for three. he's not sure if he'll bother looking for a new roommate now that he's been promoted, but sometimes he can't help but wish he could share the news with you both, and how he misses your antics and smile and.... he belatedly begins to realize he misses kaveh too. in which a new set of questions unlocks thoughts he'd never even considered... had he harbored feelings for you all this time, or was he instead projecting because he was jealous... and falling in love with his own roommate all this time?

#that ending was NOT supposed to happen but i liked the plot twist of him being so confused he didn't know who he liked anymore ifk #kinda just wrote all this rambling mess with no planning so im sorry for how sh #for how unorganized it is* ;;#genshin angst #genshin smut #genshin drabbles #genshin blurb #genshin nsft #kaveh x reader #al haitham x reader #ft hints of kavehtham (?)#my post #aerin.writings #aerin.txt #aerinposting #s1mpactafterhours #kaveh smut #...technically #......ironic how i wrote this bc i want that twink obliterated (and i want to do the obliterating <3)#this little brat istg..#sad he wasn't in the next drip marketing but fingers crossed for next update;;; at least we'll be getting dehya (& len- i mean mika lol)#corrected papers to projects bc i briefly forgot kaveh was an architect whoops-#was so used to doing nothing but papers when i was in school tbh. force of habit. and more await me come grad school hhdhfhf #best wishes to everyone and their studies fr #also can't wait for playable kaveh and more lore drops ✨#edit: some minor proofreading and corrections. added maybe a sentence or two but nothing major tbh #no one: al haitham: *the photo tearing scene; fake ass smile; and crying his eyes out after the wedding from kwill's please don't mv*#x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader

657 notes · View notes

pomegranateboba · 3 months

Text

ArTw boys if they followed us back to Mid Earthium

Based on this undone prompt provided by @sleepytwilight

Context: one of the gang somehow went to Mid Earthium with us (we dragged one of them there's no escape) now they are stuck with us til who knows when

Tw: Nothing too serious, Sirius being a red flag, its mostly crack I don't know how to write sad stuff

Arcturus

You found him in your kitchen on the ground, confused

"S-Summoner? What...where is this?"

"This is your house..??"

Poor baby was still confused even after you explained to him what happened.

Oh well, it just means he can know more about Mid Earthium culture (and the Summoner)

You both found out that your imprints with each other still work here (Arcturus was knitting at home and you summoned him to the florist to ask him which flowers looked better)

He found the crustiest animal shelter once and was absolutely horrified (You had to give therapy afterwards)

*in tears* "These poor things are sitting in their own waste-WHY IS THAT DOG BEING CRAMPED UP IN SUCH A SMALL CAGE"

You both came back home with your own personal petting zoo after that. (Let's assume our house is big enough)

He takes care of all the plants and animals in the house for you

Now your house is not only a petting zoo, but also a jungle. Yay.

He helps old ladies cross the street.

Literally the best housemate you could ever ask for.

He was amazed when you pointed out that he was an actual star in Mid Earthium.

The star Arcturus literally looks like him IT GLOWS ORANGE AJHSKHDKAKJGH

Very sweet.

*arcky appreciation*

Spica

You were in your nearby public library and saw Spica lecturing some kids about yelling in the library.

How Spica of him, you thought.

After bringing him home and explaining the situation to him, he was surprised to say the least.

At least now you would be by his side.

After 1 day your house now smells of coffee

Because he makes you coffee every morning (you drink it out of politeness and your love for Spica, despite the coffee being very bitter and like a 100 degrees Celsius)

Your house is also suddenly 10 times more organised

He has a considerable amount of free time now that he doesn't have to do work for the Guide Committee 25/7, so he can finally catch up on sleep.

And you can also bring him outside more

In which he gets major culture shock, because my dude used to like ballroom music and people articulating themselves in proper English (or whatever language I guess)

"Summoner, what does 'pogchamp' mean?"

Yeah. Time to teach this man about the internet.

I don't know about you, but I feel like Spica would fall for internet scams, because they don't have that stuff in Bound Arlyn (or maybe Spica just never used the internet.)

If you have any work to do, he will be watching very closely over your shoulder.

You try to teach this old man how to play online games and fail.

"...How do I know which team I'm on? How do I crouch?"

I think you should just let him read Mid Earthium books instead.

He is a very considerate housemate, doesn't really bother you unless you go bother him

He feels so weird not doing anything since he is overworked most of the time at Contell, please give him something to do.

Your imprints still worked, you summoned him from the living room to the bathroom because you were too short to fix a lightbulb (admit it you are short because so am I)

Alpheratz

You found him on a bench, being questioned by the police whether he was some homeless guy or not.

You manage to bring him home and explain to him what was going on (I mean as if we know what's going on)

I feel like he would either be really surprised, or just not care.

His logic: No Spica nagging = good

He spends most of the time asleep on your couch or somewhere in the house, or maybe the backyard if you have one.

He honestly would not care less, but his mood would be better overall because no Spica, and also no Schedar.

So you may be able to convince him to do stuff (maybe)

Your imprints work pretty much fine, you were trying to figure out how to wake him up from his century long coma on the couch, so you went to your room and summoned him there

It worked yeah, but he just went back to sleep, but on your bed.

Ah well.

He would be more than happy to accompany you around though, because Spica isn't there to show up out of the blue.

He can reach the high shelves for you.

If you are shorter than him (me), he will tease you for being short, because Pollux isn't around.

"Give me back my phone."

"But can you reach it?"

"..."

"That's right. You can't. :)"

You hit his face with a pillow

You may have to do your chores on your own though, you could try asking Alpheratz and there is a 50/50 chance he would help you

He helps you get more sleep as well, it is stressful being the Summoner in Bound Arlyn after all.

Pollux:

You found him in a park. On a swing set. He was taped to it.

Somehow, you were not surprised.

Little boy was overjoyed to see you.

You tried to explain what was happening to the best of your ability

He was a little confused, but that was all forgotten when you offered to go out to explore with him.

You took him to 7eleven, where he got a shit ton of snacks, because who's gonna stop him, not you.

He was so excited to stay with you without anyone else.

He also ensured that you had to clean up some stuff because the bad luck be bad lucking.

Anyways, you made the mistake of introducing him to social media

Its too late now he has actual followers now

Ah well.

Get ready to do tens of hundreds of tiktok challenges

It just feels like a very Pollux thing to do

He runs around everywhere, he wants to see everything in Mid Earthium and then compare it to the boundary

"Wow, everything's so...bleak. I mean not you of course, you're really pretty-I MEAN YOU DIDN'T HEAR ANYTHING-"

Someone calm this tsundere down please he's feral

Would attempt to help out in the house, ends up giving up half way through

Your imprints work, you could not find Pollux anywhere in the house so you summoned him. Apparently he was hiding in the closet eating half the candy in the house

Loves dragging you around the place (he's adorable ahgjhgsajhg)

Vega

You both went back to Mid Earthium at the same time, together, so you both appeared back in your room

You were very enthusiastic about showing Vega around, BECUASE HE'S TECHNICALLY BACK HOME

Let's say you 2 lived in the same neighbourhood and you still live there now.

Bring on the nostalgia.

You showed him around all the places you used to go (according to Vega, since your memories of your time with Vega as a kid were non-existent)

Some changed, some didn't. Vega was really emotional after that (wait I didn't mean to put in all the feels no I'm not crying you are)

Vega would be either really teary or really happy, or both because he can finally spend some quality time with his beloved best friend <3

You both are inseparable the whole time, and if you have to leave the room, he can and will wait at the door until you are back

and don't take too long or else he will be sad (or he will break the door down and find you himself.)

All the time you both had was extremely wholesome without even trying and Vega was simply overjoyed just to be able to be with you.

Sometimes (read: every time) he would come into your room to cuddle with you because he has been overwhelmed with all The Feels ™

I literally love Vega he's adorable

Your imprint works, not because you needed to summon him (he was always by your side anyways), but because you know there's always this bond between the sorcerers? (amplifier stone type stuff or something)

You guys did build a blanket/pillow fort in your living room and cuddled :)

He is the most normal housemate because he knows how things work, except you would not leave your side for more than 10 minutes.

"Please stay by my side, Summoner."

Very sweet 100% chance of survival.

Sirius

You did not need to find him. He found you.

He somehow found where you lived and climbed through the window when you woke up in the middle of the night to get a glass of water (He refused to reveal where he spawned in to)

May Ursa Minor, Polaris and heck even Lilith from obey me why not, give us all strength to survive this

This man can and will tease you about the 2 of you living together in the same house

He has definitely suggested that the 2 of you could share the bed, but stopped before you could throw him out.

He has, despite the locked windows and door, came into your room at 3am in the morning in the form of a dog, just to bother you. You know, just because.

Polaris please come pick your kid up. I don't care whether you're dead, in the void, or is an ice monster.

Barks at people as a dog for no reason.

Got used to living in Mid Earthium very quickly.

Has most definitely pretended to be your boyfriend, up to the point where even you are confused. (gaslight gaslight and gaslight even more)

Will find a way to cause chaos.

Still pretty protective of you though, we don't talk about what he said in chapter 13

Will take you out pretty frequently (interpret it however you want)

You can never find him, so you do summon him to your side when he isn't already (he knows where you are he's just being a stalker dw)

Is very happy that he can have you all to himself, without other people questioning his questionable behaviour.

Will either help out in the house, or knock down glasses like a cat and stare at you dead in the eye.

"...Sirius please. It's 2 in the morning."

*Happy barking noises.*

"What do you want?"

"Can I be the little spoon?"

"Get out."

He somehow makes it seem like he lives in Mid Earthium, and not some wanted criminal from Bound Arlyn.

He's a menace, a hot menace, but a menace nonetheless.

#yeah i have not finished the assessment book i have been tasked to finish #in fact i have only done 15 pages #but arcana twilight takes priority #arcana twilight #arcana twilight arcturus #arcana twilight spica #arcana twilight alpheratz #arcana twilight pollux #arcana twilight vega #arcana twilight sirius #arcana twilight summoner #arcana twilight headcanons

72 notes · View notes

crookedkryptonitebeliever · 4 months

Text

Best and Worst of Both worlds (part 8)

tw: like nasty living conditions implied

vote on da poll below ill start writing after 20 votes, next chapter will b focusing on monty

part 9

You can't do it. You can't say no to Yves without going through mental hoops. So you sigh as you let him conquer your room.

You had posters of your favorite artists, but they were all lost in the clutter long ago. It reemerged dusty and damaged, but Yves repaired it the best he could. It looks decent enough to hang.

You watched him cover his mouth in contemplation as he looked around the room, trying to figure out the best place to hang it.

Yves has done more for you than everyone else combined in your life. He cleaned, he cooked, he took care of your sickness, he cleaned you, he fed you, and now he's decorating your room to make it more habitable. All of this and you never said a word, neither protest nor request. You just let him do his thing.

From what you read in the group chat, he also replenished your section of the fridge with groceries.

Your housemate took a picture of the things he bought, all of them were labelled with your name. His handwriting is black marker ink undoubtedly beautiful.

Your housemate did warn him that you're not one for cooking, the perishables could potentially go to waste. He replied that he will be visiting over for the next few days to make your meals. One of them even broke the landlord's rules and gave him a spare key to the front door.

Eventually, Yves found the perfect places to position your posters' forever home. Who knew just the strategic placement of some piece of laminated paper would elevate a room? It looks much better and oddly bigger now... well maybe the latter due to his cleanup.

He clasped his hands and admired his work. As he should.

After that, he turned to you. Which made you jolt out of surprise.

"It's been an hour and a half. Do you still want to eat?" He asked.

You checked the time. He's right, it's now half past eleven. You're not hungry anymore, so you told him that you're full. He nodded and left your room again.

Your housemates blew up the group chat due to another wild Yves sighting around the house. Is this how it's going to be from now on?

This time, you received a picture of him portioning the leftover congee in disposable containers. He has his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showing his lean forearms. You're surprised to see that they were riddled in old scars. It was captioned: "He's freezing the rest"

You squinted and it looks like he's weighing them on an electronic scale. There's a marker pen in this picture.

You sent a message to the group chat asking if he's using his own items.

"I think so??? Idk i have never seen these containers b4" "well theyre not stained yellow yet, he has gotta have these brand new" "yea n hes using rich people sharpies, like none of us here can afford it, all of us get offbrands"

You wonder if he managed to fit them into his handbag.

Yves came back into your room, explaining that the congee will last up to 3 months in the freezer. He also walked you through the steps on how to reheat them by yourself, using the microwave or otherwise. Yves told you not to worry if you couldn't remember what to do, he wrote it down and attached it to the containers- or you could call him instead.

You nodded and waited to see what he would do. Yves seem to be doing the same thing to you for the next few seconds. Eventually though, he deem that you didn't need anything from him at the moment.

"I have to retrieve something from my car." He informed you, walking towards his bag and fishing out his keys. He checked the contents of his thermos cup, it's empty. The metal straw clanked around the walls as he picked it up and carried it with him.

You paid no mind to your housemates' frantic messages enquiring about his departure. You're too tired to care anymore, and you're too tired to know if you actually wanted him here or gone. It's nice to have company for once, but it's from a questionable source.

So you tucked yourself under your blanket and curled up into a ball. Hiding your head under your pillow so you wouldn't need to see Yves when he comes in.

You heard footsteps. And sure enough, Yves is now breathing the same diseased air as you.

But this time, he says nothing. Yves flicked the switch to your lights off and set whatever he has down on your desk.

There was a long period of silence accompanied by the soft sounds of typing. A dim glow from his computer screen illuminated his face and reflected on his reading glasses. He's logging in all the events, the observations and other pieces of data he collected from you today.

Yet you're not awake to see any of it. Blissfully sleeping and snoring away as Yves kept you company throughout the night.

You woke up the next morning feeling much better. But still not as healthy as usual. You should be fit enough to go to the university today.

Yves is gone and so are his belongings. However, you found a handwritten note addressed to you on your night stand.

"Your breakfast is in the fridge. Look for a mason jar with your name. It is ready to eat. -Yves"

You stretched and yawned, crumpling the paper and shooting it into the trash can.

You peeled the blanket off yourself and set your feet down onto the floor. That was when you realized he left something on the foot of your bed.

Another note resting on top of a set of neatly folded clothes and a bottle of sunscreen.

"The weather today will be reaching 90⁰F/32.2⁰C, take care of yourself and avoid the sun. -Yves"

The clothes he picked for you were the ones you forgot you had. It was breathable and cooling, but in your daily, personal style. He must have found it yesterday when he did your laundry.

You carried it in your arms and walked to your door to see yet another note- this time it was a folded A4 sized paper, attached to your bag, which looked noticeably lighter and... newer.

"I do not recommend leaving yet. But if you do, I packed an umbrella for you. Please wash your water bottle regularly, it is growing mold. Your bag was full of unnecessary paper scraps, wrappers, food crumbs, and other garbage. I had to hand wash it as I found a dried house lizard pressed between a dictionary and a magazine. Some of the notes and textbooks you carry were not even required for this semester or the next, hence I kept it away on your shelf. Your bag had holes at the bottom and was already falling apart at the seams. I sewed the best I could, but replacing and upgrading is the better option. Be mindful of your belongings.-Yves"

Your face became bright red after reading the last line. You never asked him to do this for you! Why is he judging? He chose to stick around! You don't like being told you're pathetic, directly or indirectly!

Did he really have to underline the word "mold" more than thrice? And why did he switch to red ink for that one word?

You took a deep breath and sighed. Exiting your room to pay a visit to the bathroom.

You were taken aback by the cleanliness. It looked like how it was in the listing, shiny and grime free. The shampoo and soap bottles were arranged neatly with no trace of dark sludge coating it.

There is another note stuck to the mirror.

This time, there were crude drawings depicting penises urinating on your name, no doubt vandalized by your housemates. You went ahead to read what Yves had to say.

"To (name), I replaced your toothbrush as that too, was growing mold. Pay attention to your hygiene or else you will be prone to sickness.- Yves"

There were hearts drawn all around his name, no doubt the culprit was your housemate who took a liking to him.

After taking a shower and changing into your new set of clothes, you left the bathroom to eat breakfast in the kitchen.

You opened the now pristine fridge and sure enough, there is a mason jar with a sticker of your name on its side.

You rotated it to see that he has written something else:

"Banana chia pudding: Chia seeds, almond milk, banana slices, vanilla extract, maple syrup, granola. Gluten-free and lactose-free. Do not heat, eat as is."

You're not sure how to feel about the taste, texture and temperature. It is "sick people" food after all. Perhaps you liked it, perhaps you don't. But you are definitely grateful that you have a free meal from Yves.

One of your housemates entered the kitchen, she greeted you as she began preparing her own meal.

You asked her what time Yves left.

"Beats me. His car was already gone when I woke up at 4am to take a piss. He did leave us a note though."

You asked her what she meant by that.

She shoved her hand in her pant pocket and handed a crumpled piece of paper to you.

"I will visit at 6pm, please take care of (name) for me. -Yves"

You asked where did she find this note.

"Next to the light switch in the living room" She cracked open an egg on her skillet.

You looked at the wall clock. It says 12:03pm

You have around 6 hours left before Yves comes back. There is nothing much to do in your house because the Internet runs at a snail's pace and there is no air conditioning. So you would be boiling in your room.

You think you're well enough to move around and you definitely do not want to spend time with your housemates.

You don't have to go to the university, since your exams are over and so are your classes for the semester. But all the study spots, including the library, have air conditioning.

#yandere #yandere oc #yandere male #tw yandere #yandere oc x reader #yandere x you #yandere concept #yandere x reader #male yandere oc x reader #oc yves #oc montgomery

57 notes · View notes

bae04xx · 22 days

Text

“fuck off!” i screamed, my voice hoarse from being half asleep, while i pushed my brother away from me. rolling over to the other side of my bed, i ignore his giggles,

“bastard, wake me up again and see what happens..” i mumble into my pillow, sensing his spine shoot up after hearing my threat.

“woah! y/n’s cranky aren’t you?” he cackles, before slapping me against the head and strolling out, as if he hadn’t been annoying the living fuck out of me, as if he was completely innocent!

ben being my brother had its perks, like ultimate protection from him and his weirdo gang, but it had a lot more cons. like some bitch at school looks at me the wrong way? oh well, it doesn’t matter to me, ben sees? she’s dead.

they’re so overdramatic.

and trust me, i haven’t had a decent night’s sleep since we moved into this hell hole. either i’m kept up by screaming, ben, gunshots or the lads bringing some random women back- that’s definitely the worst one.

everyone here had a purpose, i didn’t, my brother was some magical ghost that could hack into anything. i didn’t know shit about him, he would refuse to tell me, but he managed to work a deal so i could stay here, to keep me ‘safe’, because what’s safer than being around deranged serial killers? i was just deadweight, and while most people here tried to ignore that fact, considering i took care of them all fairly well, i knew it. my cooking, cleaning and caring skills were not nearly as useful as the dangerous shit they did.

but i’m sure they appreciated a home cooked meal after a long day of work, it calmed me down after a stressful day at school. winding down with them was something i loved, especially with jeff, we got on very well- despite ben and his rivalry. i ignored their petty arguments, and stormed off whenever they attempted to include me into them. i loved seeing how calm jeff could be around me, he was always so on edge, fierce, ready to pounce on anyone, but with me it wasn’t like that.

i could sit with him and just talk, sure he wouldn’t open up to me about anything, too closed off and stuck in his defensive mind to do anything of the sort, but he could relax with me- and i enjoyed that.

i missed normality a lot more than i let on, and ben could see that in me. the way i stared at the photos of us when we were young, how we would get high and i would ramble on about our old memories, he saw through my facade, and knew how much i missed my past life.

but this was me now, taking care of my shitty brother and his coworkers? friends? housemates? whatever he called them.

what pissed me off the most is how i was the only person in the house that still had to go to school. ben insisted on me getting an education, making something of my life- i think it was because he didn’t want me living in this shithole forever like he had to. i would come home from school everyday and waffle to toby about everything, he understood better than anyone. he could tell that deep down i did care, i cared about everything, too much. while i pretending to not give a fuck about the bitches i had to deal with, i would come running to him, crying in his arms after a hard day. i didn’t want a solution to my problem, i wanted a distraction, comfort. and ben couldn’t wrap his tiny brain around that, but toby could.

“they’re.. all just so horrible..” i sobbed as toby stroked my hair softly, holding me tightly in his arms, suddenly flicking his wrist from his ticks, he quietly cursed himself.

“i know, y/n, it’s going to be ok, i promise,” he whispered, gently wiping the tears from my face.

“they’re nasty because their jealous of you, jealous of your beauty and your confidence.”

“but.. i just want them to be nice to me..”

“i know baby, you don’t deserve this.”

toby was like a brother to me, unlike jeff who found comfort in me, i found comfort in toby. he was like my very own safety blanket, he would wrap me up in his arms and let me cry all my emotions out, carrying me to bed when i fell asleep in his arms and tucking me in. he was like the dad i had always wished for.

when everyone would argue, i would lock myself in my room. i hated it with every cell in my body. the boys would scream, yell, punch walls, kick doors in- and the dreadful sound of shots being fired. it would send me into a panicked frenzy. there was one particularly bad argument between ben and jeff once, over something stupid i can’t even remember.

“y/n- knock some fuckin’ sense into your deadbeat brother!”

“don’t bring my fucking sister into this- just because you’re in love with her! don’t think i can’t tell you fucking deranged pervert!”

“fuck off ben, like i would ever want to be with someone RELATED to you. if i had it my way you would be dead were you stand.”

i listened to their harsh words as jeff knocked on my door, making the walls vibrate.

“i don’t want to be involved! go away!” i screamed, tucking myself under the covers on my bed, pulling a pillow over my head to tune out their shouting- until i heard the familiar bang of masky’s gun.

i thought my heart fell out of my chest in that moment, my blood ran cold as i fumbled out of bed and ran to my door, swinging it open to find a hall in the opposite wall to my bedroom. i had never felt more relief in my life.

“stop fucking arguing. you’re keeping me awake.” masky said coldly as ben and jeff just stared at the bullet in the wall.

i hated living here.

#x reader #creepypasta x reader #ben drowned #jeff the killer #masky #ticci toby #creepypasta #headcanon #rambles #creepypasta headcannons

23 notes · View notes

nott-another-sideblog · 2 months

Text

blaise zabini headcanons because he’s my second favourite

his favourite colour is warm deep orange, like dark/burning honey

born in italy but his mother owns a home in england as well

spends most of his summers abroad in his family home, but he and his mother travel a lot

doesn’t really care about his many stepfathers bcs he’s used to them dying pretty quick

his mother doesn’t even directly kill most of them they’re just super old

everyone just assumes she did because. well. seven of them

she might like. not clean up water spills or leave random potions in the fridge or wtv but she’s just prompting chance tbh

it leaves them with a lot of money and blaise with complicated feelings about relationships

he’s never seen one last that long so he doesn’t really expect them to

lots of people flirt with him and people think he’s a womaniser because he doesn’t shut it down

he doesn’t actually sleep around or date that much though. dating seems like too much effort for something he doesn’t see as long-term, and he has exams n shit

tries hard to achieve but tries just as hard to keep that under wraps

does his best to make everything look effortless. like he’ll study but only alone in the dorms, and he’ll have a fancy skincare routine that he hides from everyone

like he’s arrogant but makes sure he can back it up, he will Not be caught doing worse than someone else

most of the people in his house r big name families from england who have their legacy and fortunes behind them. image is important to him because he has to prove himself and he doesn’t have the ties and influence his peers had before they could even talk. let’s be real basically everyone is cousins somehow in pure blood britain and he doesn’t have that connection with everyone

he still has the wealth and the legacy but not the recognition

doesn’t like draco that much bcs he thinks he can’t back his ego, he tries too hard very visibly and it irritates blaise

that absolute mass of hair gel in first year can be cited as an example. so much noticeable excess to seem professional with his slicked hair when it just looked like a helmet

really likes quidditch, but he prefers playing to watching. he likes watching it too but there’s something different about participating, being able to directly affect the outcome of something

extremely competitive

not above cheating but is subtle about it. no stealing chess pieces but he might look over your cards at poker, or shuffle a specific way if he’s the dealer

if he gets caught he gets defensive and denies denies denies, it’s like his least favourite thing ever because it’s like a show of intelligence to not get caught, and it just causes pointless annoying arguments

the majority of his housemates r cheating too so it’s not like anyone cares beyond ‘screw over whoever u like but you fucked over Me Specifically and i don’t like that’, but that’s still annoying to deal with

high standards for everything, from his food to his clothes to his stationary, especially to himself

has very neat handwriting and is proud of it

quite likes vertical stripes but doesn’t wear them often

HATESSS sudoku with a burning passion

likes crime novels and is pretty fond of romance, but he doesn’t tell anyone about the latter

judgemental in the ‘nice to ur face but will talk shit behind your back’ kind of way

it’s not that he won’t defend himself or be clear when he hates u, it’s just that he doesn’t see the value in isolating his peers by insulting them in front of them

that’s a very bad strategy for getting influence

ppl are never sure if he likes them or not

outwardly suave and works hard to look nonchalant, but if he’s close to someone he lets himself relax and be a bit more playful

surprisingly decent at divination but still refuses to go anywhere near the class

pretty good at charms

his hair was pretty long in fourth year but he had it cut short again for fifth

absolutely hates comc he would rather burn than deal with creatures

he loves his owl and that is it

his mother is nicknamed the black widow due to all the dead husbands. ironically blaise is terrified of spiders. and insects. and anything that scuttles

used to have a gap tooth and was very insecure until he got it magically fixed

#blaise >> tbh #blaise zabini #nott another sideblog #blaise zabini headcanons #blaise zabini hp

21 notes · View notes

am-i-the-asshole-official · 11 months

Note

AITA for asking my housemate to take care of her OWN DOG at night

I know that the title sounds crazy but one of my housemates who will be called P (21 nonbinary) sent a text to my housemate who will be called L (20F) asking her when she will be home to take care of her dog as it was 9:40pm and they and I both needed to go to bed soon as we had things to do the next day.

L sent a text 30 minutes later saying "won't he just chill in my room? I'm doing school work right now but I can come home if need be"

I (20 nonbinary) sent back a text asking if she could study at home because we've been looking after her dog very often and it's been getting difficult.

For reference, this dog is VERY old and needs pretty constant attention not because of any medical issues or anything that requires much effort, but because he will bark literally every 5 minutes and will not stop unless someone is directly next to him. It's not difficult to stop, but it does mean that I cant do anything that I want to do or need to do while she is not home, which is quite often as she works and spends most of her free time out of the house with her boyfriend. It's also important to note that she was not at her usual study spot, but she was at her boyfriends dorm. I'm not saying she wasn't studying, but it does allow a little more room for her to not be studying

L says that she doesn't want to come home but will if needed.

I send back another text saying that it's getting late, I have things to do tomorrow, and I cannot be staying up all the time to take care of her dog for her. Then I ask her to please come home when she can

Then she blows up at me saying "okay so just say you want me to come home!! I said I would. and he really doesn't require taking care of, I understand that he's been barking lately but he will literally just chill in my room. And I've been home a lot lately so I don't really agree with you saying that you've been watching him a lot. I'll be home in a few."

He literally will not just chill in her room and she knows it, as whenever she IS home with P and I, he barks every 5 minutes until she goes up to her room with him and stays next to him. She frequently complains about how he cannot be left alone. By now it's also 10:15 pm

I send back another text: "I did say I wanted you home. He needs someone in the same room as him which means that I can't do anything that I need to do. You haven't been home much lately since you're always on campus either hanging out with your boyfriend or at youre work (which obvi not an issue but you can't say you're home all the time when you're not), he literally will not just chill in your room and you know this, and really I don't think I'm being unreasonable asking you to come home to take care of your dog when I'm going to bed and it's literally nighttime"

I then send another text saying that I'm not angry with her, I just wanted her to come home and take care of her dog.

It's also important to note that since around 8pm until the time L came home, I had been sitting in a large caged enclosure with this dog (we have a large puppy and the two don't get along so they need to be kept separate as the older dog is quite small so he could get hurt if he's not kept away), and before me from around 5pm, P had been sitting in there with him too

When she comes home, she ignores me, slams the door, picks up her dog who was right next to me by the harness, and takes him up to her room and slams the door.

... AITA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

100 notes · View notes

undonerhapsodize · 2 years

Text

Domestic Burdens

Sonic the Hedgehog Movie!Knuckles the Echidna x g/n!reader TW: cursing, implies violence, injury, blood, bruised limbs, much angst, comfort and fluff, happy ending, SPOILERS FOR THE SONIC MOVIES Word Count: 10.4K

Summary: You never thought you would find yourself living in the same house as a walking, talking echidna. Yet, as you adjust to this new life, secrets begin to unravel, for better, or for worse.

Side note: I write sonic the hedgehog fanfiction because I am mentally ill, I am not mentally ill because I write sonic the hedgehog fanfiction.

I cannot believe this is actually one of my better works of fiction.

Living with Knuckles was an… interesting experience to say the least. “Jarring” is the word you would probably use to describe it, along with “pleasant”.

Never in your life had you ever encountered something like him. And with Knuckles being a echidna and all, that fact was pretty unsurprising.

When you first met the guy, it took a lot of self control and convincing from Tom to not go and bash your head against the nearest hard surface. The hedgehog was one thing, he was a one-off. Tails was another, he was kind, kinda cute, and helpful so he got a pass. But another one? And he's big and scary? AND he can beat the shit outta you? Needless to say, you went home and took an ibuprofen.

Jokes aside, he was off-putting at the beginning. To you, at least. While Sonic felt comfortable in forgiving the harm the warrior had caused almost instantaneously, you weren’t so easy-going. Not that you had held any kind of long lasting hatred for what Knuckles had done, but rather it was simply a matter of time and understanding. And understand you did, with the help of Sonic, Tails, and even the echidna himself. It turned out that hearing it straight from the horse's mouth was an effective way of realizing the complexity of the situation Eggman had put the lot of them in, especially Knuckles.

And with that, and the promise of friendship between the hedgehog and the echidna, suspicions of Knuckles’ character disappeared just as fast as they arrived. You didn’t plan on holding his mistakes above his head (like it would do anything remotely close to helping relations heal), for his own past transgressions are just as permanent to him as they are to Sonic and Tails, and everyone else for that matter. Knuckles was a kind being, and you knew that now. Losing his way in his endeavor to protect the Master Emerald doesn’t change that.

Your friendship with him had started out of circumstance. After the fiasco with Eggman, the gang needed to find a place to safely keep the weapon. Tom and Maddie’s place was quickly rooted out as a station. Their home was too close to the city to house it properly. There would be too many strangers getting within reach of it every single day. An accident was bound to happen with that lack of security. There was also the issue with Eggman himself, if he were to ever return. The doctor knew of Tom, but didn’t technically know you. Yes, you were indeed present for much of the chaos, but you all had a feeling Eggman didn’t pay much attention to a random stranger whilst piloting a giant robot.

Lucky enough, you had your own home outside of city limits. It was much like a farmhouse, except for the farm. Wide open space, way out in the country, and no neighbors within sight. It was almost too perfect. Feeling generous and knowing there were limited options, you offered up your humble abode for Knuckles and his emerald to stay. He thought about your proposal for a while before ultimately accepting, saying something along the lines of “I accept your offer, comrade. Let us shake on this alliance.”

You didn’t understand why Sonic had zipped up to you two, frantically trying to stop him from grasping your hand. Knuckles’ handshake was fine? Like yeah his hand (paw? foot??) is big, but it's not like it would crush yours or anything.

And with that, Knuckles became your new housemate, and you became the substitute Guardian of the Master Emerald.

At first, it was a bit… awkward. It wasn’t hard to tell that the warrior felt out of place, to at least some degree. He spent most of the time in his own designated area of the basement, quietly keeping to himself and no doubt watching the Emerald. He came out to get food, or use the bathroom, or perhaps borrow a book from the shelf in the living room. He did talk some, but not enough to you would like. Sometimes you would act more extroverted than you really were, going out of your way to ask the echidna some questions about Angel Island and his preferences on certain things. He always gave short, curt answers that went straight to the point. If you didn’t know better, you could think he’d be pissed at you for asking anything at all. If you had to pick a favorite, once you asked him what his favorite fruit was, only to get a bizarrely serious response. As Knuckles padded back into the basement, he stopped briefly, contemplating his answer for a second or two before glancing back at you.

“I enjoy grapes.”

He walked away right after.

Not letting Knuckles’ lack of social skills inhibit your progress, you still pursued. And steadily, you gained progress. First came simple things, like what the echidna liked to eat, or what he would do to pass time while watching the Master Emerald. Then, conversations started to happen, usually about what Sonic, Tom and the gang were up to. Sometimes you spoke about how work had gone for you, though in the beginning you usually held back on talking too much about that, since Knuckles never seemed to be listening. Later on, you were given a pleasant surprise.

One time, as you stood at the kitchen’s stovetop cooking up something for you and Knuckles, who sat quietly on a barstool at the kitchen island. You had started to feel as if you were rambling on about this one incident that happened with your coworkers. With no response from the red mammal, you assumed your story was starting to become a bother. So you stopped about halfway through it, instead deciding to focus on the pan in front of you. He’s a battle-hardened warrior, why would he ever want to listen to some silly story about spilled coffee? Going back to the food, you were content to quiet down, despite that annoying feeling in your chest.

“Why did you stop?”

The question surprised you. It was abrupt, coming from behind. Turning, you look toward the echidna, who now had his eyes on you. The softer, smaller quills on his brow were furrowed in genuine confusion. Fumbling for your words a bit, you reply back just as confused. “S-sorry, I didn’t know you were listening.”

“I was.” Knuckles countered, tone lowered in his earnesty. He titled his head back down to the kitchen counter from once it came, folding his arms across the hard surface comfortably. “Continue. I was enjoying your tale.”

At that, you grin, going back to the stove to finish cooking you and the echidna’s dinner whilst you recount the events from this morning at the office.

Knuckles soon became a key person in your life. He was not one for words, but you soon learned not many were needed with him. Most often then not, he understood the silence was a natural part of company. A thing others could learn from him, including yourself. He even gave advice on the simple things that troubled you. His straightforward way of communicating never failed to speak the obvious when truths were hard to say out loud. Though your friendship with him had just started, you trusted him. And just maybe, he trusted you. He was always there, figuratively AND literally.

Though you planned on changing that last part.

It wasn’t often where you would descend to the basement into Knuckles’ domain. You never wanted to intrude upon his space, his privacy and security were important to you. Though once in a while, you would have to enter to ask a question or two.

He didn’t have a door, only a long set of stairs leading to the bottom floor. He could definitely hear you coming as you stepped down, down. The stairs weren’t exactly the quietest thing. As you peaked around the corner, you knocked firmly on the wood of the wall, just in case he was preoccupied and hadn’t heard you. You greet him all the same, knowing to announce yourself when he is on guard duty. “Hey Knux?”

There you saw the echidna, laying on an older model of a coach you had given him, head propped up on a cushion while reading a book. The master emerald laid on the other end of said coach. He moved the novel away from his snout so it wasn’t obscuring his vision of you, responding to the nickname you had given him like it was own with a simple “What is it?”

Given the greenlight, you asked your question “Where'd you put all the total paper?”

He seemed confused. It was an emotion that occurred to him often when dealing with things like this. He thought for a split second before asking his own question back. “From… when I helped you in storing the supplies?”

You nodded, assuring him he was right. “Yeah when we put the groceries away a few days ago.”

Knuckles looked deep in thought as he tried recalling the event, eyes in a blank stare seeing nothing at all as he dug up the answer. It would be fitting for a buffering effect to appear above his head at this moment.

He looked over, slowly turning his head as he drawled out his sentence. “I think… I recall… placing the package inside… the garment washing station?” It came out more as a question than anything else, holding little confidence.

You blinked, still perplexed. You spoke to yourself quietly, not directly talking to Knuckles anymore. “The laundry room? Huh.” You paused, scratching the back of your head. “I already checked it. Guess I’ll look again.”

“Have I put it in the wrong location?” Though it was just a few words, you could detect a small amount of apprehension in his voice.

You wave him off casually, wanting to ease any guilty feelings that may be developing. “Nono you’re fine. That’s where I told you to put them. I’ll just have to take another look.”

He stared at your figure for a minute before nodding, picking up his book once more and getting comfortable. “Well, if that is all, then I shall return to reading.”

You chuckled quietly at the formality. Turning to go back up the stairs, you caught a glimpse of the wall of the basement. It was barren, completely. That’s weird. You look more, craning your head to gaze more at your surroundings. As you start to properly take in the atmosphere of the basement, it dawns on you. You’ve never fully realized it before, given you haven’t had the opportunity to until now.

Knuckles’ space was lonely. Extremely lonely looking.

There were the essentials, coach, table, bed, even a box tv, but not a whole bunch else. The space lacked any kind of personality or decoration. Almost like a default Sims room. There was nothing there to define it as Knuckles’ own space, completely empty of anything he could call his own. It bothered you.

“Is there something else that needs asking?”

The echidna looks to you, the same inquiring expression as before. Had he even glanced away in the first place, you didn’t know.

You kept your mouth shut as you mentally ran through your options, not wanting to say anything rude. You scolded yourself. Should’ve known better. Knuckles came from a completely different world. Did you think he brought anything with him? He owns nothing. The only exception being his own damn shoes.

You feel you’re at a loss when suddenly, a lightbulb pops in your head. Oh.

You face Knuckles, finally answering. “Hey…” You start, a little nervy for his reaction. “What do you think about going to the store with me?”

He pauses, and looks at you as if you’ve grown another head. “The store?”

You nod.

Without missing a beat, Knuckles was once again, confused. He sat his book down on the coach, sitting up upright. “Why?”

You shrug. “Thought you’d just want to go outside a little. You haven’t done that since you got here.” While it wasn’t lying, it wasn’t telling the truth either.

Knuckles shook his head. “No.” He declined. “I cannot. I am forbidden from leaving the emerald unattended.”

Humming, your feet shifted positions, angling you so you were leaning against the wall. “Aw come on.” You say, halfway between a whine and an exclamation of annoyance. But even still, Knuckles held his ground, a stern frown set on his face. “No. I must turn down your offer.”

You sigh, shoulders slumping.

The echidna notices. “I am sorry.” He turns back to the book that had been resting face down on the coach. “Now… if you’ll excuse me, I will return to the fox’s book…”

Your mouth dropped in the shape of an ‘O’, an idea hitting you at the mention of your mutual friend. “Wait.” You exclaim, regaining Knuckles’ attention. “What if Tails can watch it?”

He starts, brain slowing a little at the discovery of this new information. “...If the fox can act as guardian while I am away?” Repeating the sentence out loud to affirm it, looking to you to see if he had heard it right. You nod, practically on the edge of your seat, waiting for him to carry out his sentence.

“Well,” He starts. “The fox can be trusted,” Knuckles looks deep in thought as he ponders this new option. “I suppose if the hedgehog does not interfere with Tails’ focus then, I guess it is possible.”

That’s all you needed to hear. “It would just be for a matter of hours. Shopping doesn’t take a whole day.”

Knuckles rubs his chin. He contemplates the idea of Tails taking over his position a bit more before he ultimately accepts, not having much reason to say no. “If so,” He makes eye contact with you, purple irises peering into your own a little intense for the circumstance. Yet, Knuckles is Knuckles, and he is determined. He speaks with that same formality he often does, “Then I do accept your offer, Y/N of house L/N.”

Oh yeah, forgot about that.

“It’s just Y/N Knux. I’ve told you that.”

It took about a week to organize you and Knuckles’ little shopping trip. Between your work schedule and Tails’ own experiments, it was somewhat difficult to arrange for him to come over. Yet, you were stubborn, and with some convincing for Knuckles, and reassurances for Tails, you got the fox over for your house. He didn’t need to do much, just keep an eye on the Master Emerald while you all were away. All it took was a quick tour of the house, showing him where the food and utensils were, a quick goodbye and you and the echidna were off.

Knuckles had asked before where you two would be shopping and what you would be shopping for. You did your best to wave him off, telling him what kind of stores you would be going to, but not so much your intention. As vague as it was, he chose not to question any further.

You took Knuckles to a variety of shops, Home Goods, Target, Home Depot. All shared one feature. Decor. Through the limited time you had spent with him, you had learned some things about his world. As confined as your knowledge was, you know it DID NOT look like the plain basement he was currently living in. And though he’d never said otherwise, it wasn’t hard to believe that the echidna could be a little homesick. You would be if you were in his position. You planned on making his home more like a home. Nothing less.

And so, you did. First, you tried looking for larger things. That way you could build a foundation, and work your way up with smaller items. This way, you could also fill up the otherwise empty space. You figured some blankets to make an overhang type thing and the hammock you found in clearance would do nicely.

“These would look really nice in your room, Knux. Whadya think?” You paused, catching yourself, a stutter falling from your lips. “I-I mean if you want to? You don’t have to- of course.”

Knuckles looked up at you. He blinked, eyes widening a slight fraction. You two were the only ones in the aisle.

“So.” He said slowly. “This was your plan?”

“Uh” You eloquently spoke. “Yea?” Reflexively averting your eyes from the echidna, you sweat dropped, waiting for Knuckles to react. How could you face him when he was gazing at you like that?

Though what you assumed was a look of offense, was actually of wonder, and even something of another nature.

Knuckles inhaled, turning toward the bundled up hammock on the rack, picking it up with a gloved hand. The silence was suspenseful. It usually happened this way: Knuckles doing much of his thinking in his own head while you stressed out internally. It would be funny if you didn’t constantly get the short end of the stick.

“Do you pity me?”

You were caught off-guard, head whipping back to the echidna. What? Why would he say that? “I- uh, no?”

He kept his gaze on the hammock as he spoke, each syllable low as he concentrated on saying them correctly. “Is pity the reason you choose to do things like this?

Mouth agape, you truly were lost. To say you had trouble finding words was an understatement. Did he- feel bad? That was the last thing you wanted him to feel.

You take your time choosing your next words, for they could either make or break this moment. “I- listen Knux, look at me? Please?” And so he did, standing a little slouched in comparison to his regular, straight posture. The lavender purple of his eyes had a guarded melancholy to them you had never seen before. Both changes spur you on to reassure your friend while also shake you where you stand. The range was astounding.

You cleared your throat. “N-No, not out of pity per say…” You trailed off, struggling to find the right words as Knuckles stood patiently, quietly, never once taking his eyes off you. “I just- the other day when I asked you about the toilet paper? Yeah I uh, I realized how unwelcoming and- plain your space looked and I just felt bad because you didn’t have a single thing a-and I wanted you to feel a home- I know it's probably really hard being launched into a whole new world with nothing but some shoes and I just-”

Knuckles reached out and grasped your hand, gripping it gently appit firmly. It pulled you out of your spiraling ramble. “Slow down.” He urged. “You’re not in a race Y/N, house of-”

“Ok, ok” You laugh a little, giggling at the return of the silly title and wrangling with the fact he had grabbed you in the first place.

You take a breath, inhaling deeply before starting again. “I just- want you to feel comfortable. And, I thought this was a way to do it.”

At that, Knuckles’ features relax, and he looks away, thinking. “I- You are a very kind human.” He concludes, dropping your hand to take a set back from you. “But,” He says, a hint of reluctance in his voice. “I cannot accept this.” He moves to put the hammock back, reaching up to set it back on the shelf.

“Wha- hey! Wait, why?” You half shout, catching his hand and stopping his movement. Though he could easily muscle past you, he chooses to stop with you. “Because,” He defends. “I do not need it.”

You huff. “Well I know that, Winter Soldier.” You go to gently pry the hammock out of Knuckles’ hand. Again, he lets you, though not without a face that screams ‘what are you doing’. “But I want you to have it.”

The warrior detests. “I don’t-”

“Knuckles, bud.” You tenderly cut him off, smiling with a benevolence that you hope conveys your honesty. “I want to do this for you.” You lean forward to pronunciate your sentence, catching eyes with the echidna that widens more and more as you continue to speak. “I don’t mind buying this, or anything else for you.” You shake the item in your hand for emphasis. “Will you let me?”

Knuckles freezes momentarily. You swear you see a hint of pink on what you would consider his cheeks as he somewhat suddenly turns his head away, wrestling with himself and with your proclamation.

“I-” He’s stuck, and he has to give himself a mental kick in the rear to get him going again. “I guess… I would like the hanging blanket.”

You let out a sigh, relieved you both are on the same page. “Awesome.”

After getting most of the larger decorations, you then focus your attention on smaller things. What those smaller things would be is now up to Knuckles, who has grown more open to the whole ordeal as the hours passed. A large variety of things were considered, such as candles and fairy lights, even some abstract art pieces that would be fit for a garden. Though the things that were favored above all, and the things that you kept catching the echidna staring at, were the plants. His eyes would linger on the greenery, especially on some of the more exotic ones. Those didn’t take much convincing to let you buy, the warrior only giving a few words in approval: “This one will do…” “...Possibly this one as well.” It wasn’t hard to tell that Knuckles felt weird doing plant shopping of all things, he’s never done anything like it before. And because of that, you did everything with your power to talk to him, to make this as casual and as pleasant as an experience can be. Normalizing domesticity in one of the most powerful fighters in the galaxy may sound difficult on the surface, but as you two approached the end of your short adventure (store worker looking as flabbergasted at your friend as a person could), you found no trouble at all leading Knuckles to check out at the last shop with your abundance of wildlife greenery, and onto this new kind of life you’ll be sharing with the echidna from now on.

It didn’t take long to set all the decor up back at home. With Knuckles’ help, you all made quick work of it. The hammock came first, finding a secure way to hang the thing was a little tricky, but once you broke out the power tools, installing it went by with a breeze. Same case for the fort. You looked up some ideas on pinterest, but you quickly learned that there is actually some strange red mammal in the house who can make a really rad blanket fort by memory. You’ll have to ask him for advice sometime. As for the plants, the one space was filled right up, the emptiness being replaced with a vibrancy that definitely made you feel welcomed. As for Knux, well, he was happy. You knew it. Even as he tried to keep a straight face as he walked around admiring the hanging plants, which branches gracefully cascaded over the rim of their pots.

“While nothing could ever replace my home,” Knuckles said remorsefully as he adjusted a small potted fern, angling it in the most eye-catching way, “This does make the space feel… different.” He trailed off, looking down as he thought of a history and sentiment not unknown to you.

“A good kind of different?” You ask with a hint of a coy tone.

Knuckles looks at you, your playfulness gone completely over his head. Instead, his face is pleasant, approving in some way. “I think so…” He remarks, words sounding confident to your ears. Though his expression changes to something more reluctant as the next thought pops into his head, slipping out his mouth before he can stop it. “You did not have to provide this…”

It takes a good amount of effort to steel yourself from rolling your eyes in the back of your head. You ‘tsk’ in frustration. “Knux, I know. But I chose to. Understand?”

He nods, though hesitant to fully accept the finer feelings, “Yes... It is a lot like the echidna’s honor code in battle.” Seeing your perplexed face at his random reference, he elaborates. “Even though my tribe held proud independent warriors, we helped our comrades at our own discretion. Whether they wanted the aid or not.”

At that, you made a sound of realization. “Ohhh okay, okay. I get it.” You smile down at your friend, who had seemed satisfied in how his room now appeared. It brought you great joy to see the typically stone-faced tank with a softer, more relaxed look. It gave you the confidence to ask one more borderline teasing question, “See, some things aren’t so different, now are they?”

Once again, the intention passes Knuckles by. “No,” he notes, too preoccupied with his own brain to give back any more of an answer. “No they are not.”

You take no notice, grinning in genuine joy for Knuckles. “Good.”

It's during the most unsuspecting moments in which the most unexpected events take place. Shouldn’t you know that by now?

What the fuck. I should go to the ER. No that’s a stupid idea. What the fuck are they gonna do, put ice on it? I can do that. What the fuck. Well I’ll probably need something more than ice. Ibuprofen? Maybe. A shot? Yeah. What the fuck. Why? Why did they do that? I don’t understand. To me? Why to me? I’m sorry. What the fuck. I’m tired. I wanna go to bed. What if I wait till the morning? Can I sleep like this? I can try. Probably not. What the fuck. Should I call my friends? No they’re probably busy. I can take care of it. What the fuck. Was it really that special? Was it worth that much trouble? I should’ve been more careful. How old was it? I’m sorry. What the fuck. That bitch. What a fucking piece of shit. I’m sorry. What the fuck.

The calculating rationality that most healthy-minded people would have in these situations was lost to you. Sometimes you thought of it as a gift from god himself: the ability to see things in such simplicity that the problem itself never even posed an ounce of a threat. Never in your life have you had that. Though, never in your life have you ever been healthy-minded, so the math kinda works out in a weird, twisted way.

The hole in your chest remained through it all. Never once subsiding in its outrage. It held every emotion possible as it freely expressed them all, only confined to your heart. Unwavering in every roar, it made such a ruckus. If only it felt just as exposed as you did, then maybe it would shut up. Maybe it would silence itself, just as you were now. Instead, you would have to deal with its burden, as well as the aching that started from your forearm, leading up to the triceps of your shoulder.

It was still daytime. The sun had not yet set, though it was about to. The sky’s vast shades of pinks, purples and blues lit up the darkening landscape of the range, the green and the brown of the earth ever so slowly growing into one cool shade of black. The air was as crisp as ever. It felt mocking in how pure it was, untouched by the will of others beyond its reach. It was the only thing pushing you to walk up your own porch’s stairs, for every bone in your body absolutely refuted the idea of entering your home in the condition that you were in. And only because of one thing. One, small thing.

Your melancholy seemed to express itself through the stomp of your shoes on the old wood. Bump bump bump. It was quiet, not wanting to be heard. Though it was, as there were no sounds to go with it besides the giggling of your keys and the distant sounds of crickets coming to life. Though the adrenalin had since worn off, the nerves had not yet seized. You’ve only got through half the battle. And who to say it had even begun in the first place?

The key was a little difficult to find with one hand. With a shaky arm, you plucked it from the batch, loudly shaking it to rid it of its neighbors. It was slotted in with a good push. You didn't have much trouble turning it. It was with a weighted heart you entered the house, stepping one foot, and then the other past the threshold, the door letting out a loud creak to welcome you home. You didn’t appreciate it. Just as quickly as you were cleared, you gripped the edge roughly, firmly shutting the door back up, locking it, therefore silencing it, for the night.

The house was just as quiet. The thunk of the shut door echoed through the house, disturbing the void. You found yourself unwilling to move forward. The feeling in your heart didn’t want you to. It weighed you down to the floor, outright sticking the soles of your feet to the carpet of the doormat. If it wasn’t for the consistency of your arm’s pain, it was possible you would’ve been standing there all night. It keeps you motivated, reminding you of its presence with every throb.

You toe’d your shoes off where you stood, setting the keys down softly onto the table beside it. Eyeing the kitchen sink that was visible from the door, you padded towards it quietly, evading any spots prone to creek. One by the TV, another by the dividing wall, another by the knife drawer. You subconsciously counted them whilst listening to your quiet feet step one, after the other, after the other.

You nudged the water on with your elbow, the liquid coming out the tab in an easy trickle. Putting your hand under the stream, you felt the water for its temperature. You found it was tolerably lukewarm. That should be fine. Muscling the appendage up from its hanging position below the counter, you bent your arm at the elbow, angling your forearm to get the brunt of the water’s force. You winced when it made contact. It wasn’t pleasant at all. As soothing as it should feel, the area was still sensitive, even to the gentle stream. You watched uneasily as the sink was turned a maroon, the red coloring the once clear liquid. From there, you started to gently rinse off the wound, trying to wash away the blood that had since dried and scabbed over. It was a tedious and aggravating task. The blood was stubborn. You had to really scrub to get it to leave, irritating both you and your skin. You started using some of your fingernails when you became impatient, ignoring the pain that came with it. Anxiety started to bubble within you the longer you stood there, the old clock in the living room doing nothing to ease your nerves as it boldly ticked away. Tick tick tick. You swear this was sabotage. Karma has come to get you. If only this would go faster, then maybe you wouldn’t be out in the open so-

“You’ve returned early.”

Whatever you ate from lunch that day immediately tripled in weight, making your stomach drop at the sound of his voice. You stopped rubbing at your arm, freezing the movement entirely. Your posture went rigid, though you tried masking it with a shift in your stance. You refused to turn around to face him. You couldn’t. Not now, not here. You wouldn't risk it. You didn’t trust your poker face at this moment, which was too caught up in showing you trying to figure out a response that remained calm.

You let out a humorless chuckle. It was so unnatural and disingenuous it made you cringe. Not dissimilar to nails on a chalkboard. “Ha ha yeah, we uh- finished up pretty quickly.” You say this while still facing the sink. Though you were no actor, you felt comfortable resuming your washing, this time slowing down with slower, more deliberate strokes as to appear with a facade of calmness.

“I suppose that is good.” Knuckles shrugs as he says, “Based on what you said before you departed.” He begins to walk closer and off to the right, edging his way to your side, unaware of the person on the edge of a mental breakdown right in front of him. Hearing his footsteps grow nearer, you shift your weight to ensure your back is to the echidna, even as he tries to change that. It almost makes you forget what he had just said, not expecting the remark. “Oh- uh, right.” You say, feigning an agreeing attitude.

You recall the event. You loosely remember telling Knuckles you were heading out. When he asked you why, you didn’t want to lie to him. Poor guy has already had enough of that happen to him. So you told him the truth, adapt a vague version of it. “Just something I promised I’d help someone do. Ha ha… I mean, I don’t really want to, but I’d better.” He watched you leave, silently questioned your weird act as you begrudgingly gathered your things. Yet he knew the importance of promises, he himself taking them very seriously. So he let you go without much fuss, despite the twinge of suspicion in the back of his mind.

He seemed to be satisfied with the closed proximity. About 5 feet away from what you could tell just from your hearing. The sound of the water running still remained in the air, serving as the white noise to this one-sided conversation. You couldn’t even imagine how sore your jaw would be after this from how hard you’ve been clenched it. The emptiness laughed at you as the seconds ticked by. What you wouldn’t give to just seal it away, to just find some semblance of peace, to just be and exist normal in this moment without having to breathe fucking manually just to appear fine.

“How did it go?” Knuckles asked, taking up the mantle as the conversation starter. You would have room to think ‘hey he’s not so bad at it’ if you weren’t a little busy. Yet as it all things go, busy turns into anxiety, anxiety turns into panic, and panic turns into bad. Fucking. Choices.

“Fine.”

Fuck.

Now why did you say that?

You could feel your face flare up with heat. Out of fear or anger, you couldn’t know. The only thing you did know, was the suffocating sound of silence that followed. It was so loud. You stopped your scrubbing a little bit ago.

“What are you doing?”

Fuck.

You hear the question, but not really. It’s odd coming from the warrior, you think. Though you don’t really think as you have to figure out something, and fast.

“U-uh, dishes.”

You spit it out before you really have a chance to think about it. You’re proud for a half-second at your white lie, but the celebration is short-lived when your insides move in sickening ways for the second time while in the conversation.

“I’ve already done them. There are none.”

Fuck.

The silence finds some way to be worse than before. It’s brutal. Never ending its assault on your hammering heart, and never yielding to the vulnerability of your mind. Oh my god could you please just-

“Is there something-“

“…”

“What is on your arm?”

FUCK.

The dread is immense. The impending doom of that singular question is incredible. All senses are blocked from you like a deer in headlights, unable to make out the true meaning of the ask. The hole in your chest becomes invigorated in its bloodlust, your own panic spurring it on to mobilize it while also paralyzing you.

“It’s nothing.”

“I don’t think it is.” You miss the way he says it. It’s calming, concerned. His eyes are careful. A completely opposite force to you. But it all completely passes you by in the current state you are in.

He takes a set forward, just one. You recoil, just enough for the echidna to notice. He doesn’t take another one as he continues to speak clearly, yet deeply and seriously. It doesn’t help ease you much at all.

“Let me see.” It's more of a demand than a request. It makes you shrink back, lip curled down in displeasure. You knew he meant no harm, but it doesn’t stop the back of your mind from taking it in a negative connotation.

“No! It-It's fine!” You grasp your injured arm, still futilely trying to keep it out of sight from Knuckles. Your heart beats away in your chest, boiling like a pot of hot water about to spill over. You’re scared, you realize that now. Of what, you haven’t got to that part yet.

He takes another step, undeterred by your protests, which spur him on further. “No, it is not.” He reaches a hand up, open and waiting to grasp yours.

“I’m fine. Knux, really.” You stress, your voice becomes wobbly as do you. “It’s o-ok, just-“

“No.” The echidna says, the tone he uses sounds final, yet soothingly firm. It makes you stop your panic, just a little. Every word that comes next feels like magic, doing almost supernatural things to your head to make you hear them, to really hear them, for what they are. Each is punctuated with a softness unlike anything your friend had ever used before.

“Y/N, let me see your arm.”

“Please.”

You stop. Taking a deep breath in, you take your time to let it back out. It allows you to see things the way they actually are. There, Knuckles stands. Arm raised, palm open. His stance is mostly relaxed, though if you look closer, a hint of anxiety is there. His eyes were kind, sympathetic, the crease of his eye wrinkled with a stress you’ve never seen from him. In battle it was a harder line, strengthened with anger and determination. Here it was nothing like that. It was fragile, gentle, and even looked painful to wear for long.

Moved by the look, you evaluate yourself as you were. As defensive as you are now, in hindsight, what were you defending against?

Slowly, you ease up. You wordlessly turn to face him, and without much thought, you lower your arm down and away from your body, and towards Knuckles’ awaiting hand. He takes it, tenderly turning it over to look at what he had seen a glimpse of before.

He freezes. His eyes widen, jaw literally dropping at what he’s seeing. Yet, he doesn’t say a thing. He’s just as frozen as you were a minute ago. Like a statue he just stands there, not moving an inch as all thoughts and movement cease. It makes you sweat, not doing much to quell your aching heart.

He doesn’t make eye contact, keeping his eyes trained on the sight of your arm before him. The quills on the back of his head and around his face start to raise, puffing out his features to make them appear larger. It seems as if he has a hard time saying it himself, as he grits out the question. Finally, he speaks. His eyes narrow, brow furrowing downward at his own word.

“Who?”

Though it was only one word, it didn’t fail in striking trepidation through your heart. You’re silent as the question hangs in the air, awaiting an answer that you never planned on giving.

But Knuckles still wants it, so he asks again.

“It was them… Wasn’t it?”

His voice lowers as he utters the phrase, even as he tries to keep an even tone. His anger builds as the seconds of silence tick by, seconds that do not deny the question. His mouth contorts at the ongrowing outrage, curling down into a snarl. Even he, who knows the repercussions of not keeping your anger under control, cannot stop the blooming, burning feeling so deep in his gut that it makes everything he’s ever said about remaining calm sound like a lie.

And without a response from you, there's nothing to stop the echidna’s rage.

Suddenly, and without warning, Knuckles drops your arm, which you pull back to you to hold. Then, he just… walks away, wasting no time at all as he makes determined strides to the front door. He’s mumbling words as he goes. If you listen closely, you could hear the more punctuated ones, such as ‘coward’, or ‘unworthy’.

“H-hey!” You stutter out, tripping over your own feet as you try going after Knuckles. “What are you doing?”

“Going to go deal with the problem.” He grumbles, making the situation sound oh-so simple. He’s halfway to the exit at this point.

“Hey wait!” You try again, “Where are you going?? I didn’t tell you where I went.” You take more steps to the door, not covering near enough ground to catch up with him.

“I’ll find them.” Knuckles flat out growls, getting increasingly agitated by the second. His fists tighten into intimating weapons of pure strength, just itching to get one good hit in.

An image plays over and over in his head. You, face pale at his discovery of your bleeding arm, the very real fear that showed in your body language. It angered him. Greatly.

He’s about to reach for the door handle before your feet catch up with your thoughts, legs propelling you forward. Your head spins at the possibility of Knuckles facing those responsible. That is the literal opposite of what you wanted. The thought of it alone is what gets you going faster.

“Don’t!” You shout, grabbing his shoulder to stop him from going any further. “Please don’t.”

“And why not?!” He yells right back, whipping himself around to fully face you. He sheered as he spoke, a grumble to his voice that made him appear more frightening than what he truly was. He used a booming voice that conveyed all of his frustrations pretty clearly. “They need to pay.”

“I-I know- just,” You take a minute to rub your hand down your face, already at your stress limit.

Knuckles interrupts, unable to contain himself at what seems to him is your level of complacency. “It is inexcusable!!” He roars, refusing to back down. “I will not stand for it.” He tried once more to leave, turning away from you. You stop him again, overcome with your own anxiety. You feel the incessant need to fiddle with your hands as you put your foot down.

“I KNOW!” Your scream catches both you and Knuckles off-guard. The house becomes eerily quiet with the lack of noise, the sounds of the pipes and utilities on the edges of their seats as they watch on. You were never one to get aggressive to those you cared for, but desperate times call for desperate measures. And yes, you were, in fact, desperate. Your abdomen cramps, making it harder and harder to sooth the situation like you normally could if you weren’t so caught up in your own head. Your breaths are heavy, holding the weight of everything you have done and said up until this point. You’re sure your lungs are willfully unprepared to take up the burden of what you plan on saying next.

You soon discover you’re right.

“I know-w” you pant, shoulders crumpling in on the rest of your body. “Just pl-please, please dontgo, I donwanna-” It suddenly gets harder to speak, your throat constricting around itself, preventing the words from escaping you. Even it doesn’t want you to sound weak. “I-I’m sorry…”

At this point, you’re at the end of your rope. You were frightened. Of what Knuckles could do, what they could do, what you would do… it all ran through your mind at a million miles an hour. You haven't even begun to rationalize with yourself the event that got you in this mess in the first place, and it was starting to catch up to you. You simply did not have the mental capacity to process all that it happened. And it showed on your face, lines of worry etched into what used to be smooth features. And suddenly you seem much, much older, The sheer pressure adding decades of age, your bones turning frail, matching the vulnerability of your headspace. Your eyes lowered to the ground, head drooping, ashamed of what you feel and afraid of what you've become because of it.

And Knuckles finally sees it all.

The echidna’s own worry lines grow at the realization, his own chest tightening at the sight of you. It’s a strange thing to him, a feeling he had trouble recognizing at first, seemingly forgotten from his younger days with his father. It confused him, and he didn’t exactly have anything to compare it to. How was the battle-hardened echidna supposed to know what it was? Yet with the help of his new family providing guidance and remaining patient, he was eventually able to figure it out, though only roughly. What he did discover, however, is that it often came with his anger.

He was worried. So, so worried.

And that scared him.

He didn’t like feeling worried, not one bit. He detested the idea of him being worried the moment he comprehended he was. Knuckles the Echidna, worried? How ridiculous. It was a weak emotion, he thought at first. It would slow him down, make him vulnerable, and even, worst comes to worst, allow for him to get taken advantage of again. That’s what he told himself, at least.

When he saw your arm, he felt his worry come at full force. It struck through his heart, piercing it with a sharp, clean cut. What he left out of his explanation for his dislike of worry, was the deeper meaning that had apparently escaped all he knew, even his closest friends.

It was the fact that his worry reminded him of everything he had failed to do. Every promise he broke, every vow he made to nobody but himself yet did not hold true. And even then, as he realized the how and the who to the backstory of your injuries, he failed again, once more not delivering on a promise he made to himself: to protect his protector. And oh, did it anger him. It angered him so much. To fail at such an extent, it was downright shameful.

It was easy for the madness to take hold, he often let it. And he did. He let his anger control him when he found your blood exposed to the elements, your skin inflicted with a bruise the size of a baseball. It coursed through his veins at an insane rate, setting his mind into overdrive, acting as a catalyst to every negative image that crossed his mind. A spark ignited within him, the flame erupting within his chest, the flame of revenge. “How dare they? How could they? You?! Of all people to attack? How weak, how pathetic. How dishonorable.”

And in that instance, he remembered his promise, and sought it out to hold it true, by whatever means necessary. It would be easy for him. Light work even, and he would definitely get immense satisfaction in absolutely pummeling your enemies. You wouldn’t even have to lift a finger.

Though easy does not mean right. And as much as he would find gratification in solving this problem for you, your health took precedence over everything. Even this. He knew that, it just took him a minute to fully remember. Your eyes sure helped, pleading, watery, bloodshot from stress, it all came together in a heartbroken concoction, like a liquid potion ready to persuade its victim of anything. And he had fallen for it, though willingly. It wasn’t hard, you were you after all.

He takes a deep breath to settle that smoldering fire within him. “Okay.” He speaks within a new tenderness that does wonders to calm your racing heart. “I won’t go anywhere, nor do anything.”

He grasps your arm carefully, beginning to lead you to the couch nearby. “Come,” he says “let's sit you down. Your wound needs treatment.”

You nod absentmindedly, not exactly understanding, but doing so nonetheless. You follow him one step at a time as you take your seat, Knuckles leading you down all the while. His touch isn’t something many would expect from the tough echidna. It was gentle, delicate, like a soothing balm to cover the sores on your soul. “Stay.” He spoke in a whisper, “I will return with the box of aid.”

“First aid?” You joke weakly, voice cracking with the effort.

Knuckles is either unaware of the gag, or chooses not to react. “Yes, that.”

Without another word, he quickly dashes away, returning just as fast with the kit in hand.

It took some mumbled guidance from you for the echidna to understand what to do. Though that was understandable, since the guy has never had to use the first aid kit before.

He was uncharacteristically careful in how he treated your wound. Every time the pads of his fingers brushed against your skin, it was gentle, almost feather-like. Especially around the mangled tissue of your injury. Here, Knuckles’ touch was that of a ghost. There, but not really. Its presence was felt, surely, though not nearly enough for your senses to pick it up as something harmful. You could confidently say the warrior had not caused you any excess pain. Which was already monumentally better than you.

It was quiet as he worked. It was somewhere between a comfortable and uncomfortable silence. It was hard to tell which. So many things remained questioned, so many things remain unsaid. What could you say? What good will an explanation do? Well, some obviously. You of course knew that. It was still hard though, to say the truth. Even if you’ve known it for years.

As rough as you were, the wound was clean of any dried blood or debris. Knuckles knew as well, and went straight to wrapping it up. Placing a sterile absorbent pad on the bruise he secured it with some medical tape, which he probably used an excessive amount of. But you chose not to say anything. He also examined your bruise on your forearm, though decided there wasn’t much to be done about that. However, it didn’t stop him from putting a bandaid on the area. Again, you let it slide.

Knuckles quickly gathered up the supplies he had gotten from the kit, putting them back in the box haphazardly. I’ll fix it later, you thought to yourself.

The warrior chose to sit by your side about a foot apart from you. Not too close, not too far. He held his tongue for a minute, eyes kept trained on the floor beneath the both of you. Perhaps waiting for you to speak first, perhaps muddling over the same thing you were. It was not easy for anyone to read the echidna’s mind, not unless Knuckles himself said his thoughts aloud.

Which he often did.

“How come you didn’t tell me of this?” He spoke the question in a whisper, matching the delicate atmosphere with the tone of his voice. He looked to face you, eyes missing their usual luster of purple. You hated to be the cause of such a loss.

You had to think for a second. You yourself didn’t know the answer to such an ask, even though you would be the one person who would. You fidgeted with your fingers, picking at the skin of them as your mind twisted and turned. It took several more moments before you could come up with a conceivable answer, one at least an outsider could begin to understand.

“I… I didn’t know what to do.” You started. Knuckles sat to your right, as patient as ever, gloved hands propped up on the coach, which straightened his posture to attention.

You continue as best you could, “I guess- I mean, I think I wanted to handle it?” It comes out in the question, not sure of yourself in the slightest.

“Why?” Knuckles butts in, quick to question the decision. His brows furrowed in confusion, genuinely not understanding.

“Why?” You say back, parrot-like. “Uh-h…” You had to think to yourself again. It’s astonishing how so much over thinking can go right down the drain when you need your excessive ideas the most. “Because uhh, I mean it’s my thing isn’t it?”

The echidna’s face doesn’t change, still frozen in trying to figure out what you mean, and it shows on his face. So you try again. “It’s… my responsibility.”

A deep frown spreads across Knuckles’ face, painting his features in a disapproving way. “Your responsibility?” He repeats. You nod meekly, taking hold of your injured arm to cradle it, still not knowing what to do with your hands.

Closing his eyes, Knuckles huffs out a breath. He stands, pushing himself off the coach in a smooth motion. Your heart jumps at the thought of him walking away and leaving you there alone, but the muscle soon calms to see him turn to face you, coming to stand before you. There you two are level. It's truly one of the only scenarios in which the both of you can see eye to eye, when the warrior can peer right into your eyes without having to look up or down. Just maybe, he chose this on purpose.

Knuckles reach down to your lap, oh so gingerly taking your arm into his hands to hold, looking at the bandaged injury whilst he says his piece, the smoothness of his voice just barely echoing through the home. “My father was a kind soul” he breathes out, “yet he had a habit of keeping the burdens that weighed on him all to himself.”

Your eyes grew wide at the mention of Knuckles’ kin. He’s talked about them before, though this is definitely the most personal it's ever gotten.

“You remind me of him in this way” He looks up to you, eyes with a hazy focus, thumb brushing against the cotton of your bandage softly. “A protector that refuses to be protected.”

The silence is deafening as the two of you contemplate what has just been said. You more so. You’re shocked to say the least. The sentiment of Knuckles comparing you to his own father, someone he loves and respects extensively is… overwhelming. The weight of it seems to help ease your nervousness.

“What role do you think I play in this tribe?” Knuckles asks, titling his head down to try to make eye contact with you. It kind of works, coaxing your own up to face him as well.

“Uh” You stumble, “A guardian?”

Knuckles does the echidna equivalent of a ‘uh huh’. “Yes. I am a guardian.” He continues, “What of the hedgehog and his fox friend?”

You look up to the ceiling, it now appears much more appealing as you think of a response. “Well they’re kind of protectors too.”

Knuckles nods, asking one more time “And Maddie and Tom?”

You’re on a roll, now feeling more comfortable looking Knuckles in the eyes. “Them too.”

“Right.” He says, satisfied. “In our tribe, we all have the role of guardian. And so, we all protect. Especially each other.”

Now you see where this is going. “Knux, I’m not sure if I-”

He interrupts. “Whatever you are about to say- it is wrong.”

“Knux I-”

“No. Wrong.”

“But I-”

“No.”

You give up, giving in to the echidna’s game. You swear you can see a twinge of a smile start to creep onto his face.

“But if I may,” He adds, voice suddenly becoming dimmer as he breaks eye contact to look back at your arm. “I do think there is one difference among us.”

“In what?”

Knuckles takes a breath, seemingly randomly getting anxious. You can’t fathom why. “As a guardian, I am meant to treat all I protect equally.” You nod, agreeing but not getting the point. “Though I do not.”

He slid his hands down to grip your own, head lifting to let his eyes peer into yours unwaveringly. They look to be dripping with his usual determination, along with something else you couldn’t place. Something kinder, something sweeter. “Though each of us were guardians,” he pauses, thinking for a moment “you have had a different duty ever since the EggMan’s defeat.”

You blink, trying to follow as best you can. Knuckles continues, “Your duty is dangerous. Fragile as humans are, I was surprised when you took up the task. It requires constant vigilance, not many could keep it up for long.”

His hands tighten around yours, squeezing momentarily before easing up. Perhaps a reminder for himself. The urge to squeeze back comes and goes. “I have since then grown a respect for you unmatched by any other. Both because of that, and because of your character.”

His pause invokes a special importance, pulling you in. It was captivating, doing its job in changing the atmosphere only slightly. “You are precious to me, as I have grown to know you. More so than the other members of our tribe.”

Your eyes widen, not expecting such a declaration. You have to keep your mouth from opening in shock.

Unperturbed, the warrior continues. The fiercest of his eyes growing with every passing moment. His grip becomes impossibly more gentle, every callous he ever had suddenly disappearing. “Though my focus does lie with the master emerald, it is you that keeps my attention and company Y/N, not any gem or jewel.”

“I don’t know why you would think that.” You blurred out, too caught off guard to think to hold back.

Knuckles takes it in stride, once again taking a breath, wanting to speak as clearly as possible. The effort from keeping his cool shows on his face, a little scrunched with the strain. He leans in to emphasize his next words, yearning to have you understand him. “I do.”

The staticky fog in your mind doesn’t seem so intense anymore.

“You have commendable bravery, and a personality unlike any other. Attributes I now hold dear.” Knuckles returns your hands to your lap, taking the opportunity to straighten the fabric of your shirt, which has since been crooked. The neckline is quickly fixed back into its usual spot with a quick tug upward, letting it fall back into position naturally. He now spoke with a more annoyed tone than before. It would’ve alarmed you about 5 minutes ago, though now you’ve calmed, and know the warrior doesn’t point such frustrations to you, but to the third party in question. “Which is why it pains me to see you overwhelmed in this way. Especially by those who are meant to be closest.”

You worry your palms, growing tired at the lack of things you can actually answer. “I’m sorry” You whisper, “I should’ve told you.”

“It’s alright” Knuckles whispers back, in a way that differs from your own. A way that makes your thoughts coherent. That actually helps you understand that he's telling the truth. “I don’t know much of troubles such as this… but I do know they can be complex to you.”

He rolls his shoulders, instinctively resetting his posture. “But to me?” He shrugs, “Not so much.”

That earns a watery chuckle from you.

The air feels tired, almost rung out of all energy it had. It’s breathable now, and it lets you digest everything, lets the both of you take a moment to grasp with the gravity of the situation. Lets Knuckles figure out what to say next.

“I want you to make a promise.” He speaks, crossing his arms in front of his chest with a huff.

“What kind?”

“My kind.” He responds.

You sit up straight, a little confused. Knuckles takes it as a signal to proceed.

“I want you to promise to ask for my aid if something like this were to happen again.”

You furrow your brow. “Knux, I don’t think I can-”

“Let me restate that.” He rehashes, cutting you off. “I want you to promise to try to ask for my help.”

You bite your lip, looking off to the side in contemplation. Could you? Realistically. It surely was a difficult question to answer, especially with every little negative thought poking into your brain to tell you no. If this question had been asked before, you probably would have said yes just in passing. It would be easy to say yes, just to get the question over with. But now, as you hold the spotlight, you can't lie. Not to him, not right now. It's neither the time nor place. And you don’t think it ever will be.

But as you look at Knuckles now and into his stupidly sweet lavender gaze of his, your true answer starts to become more and more real. Him and that worried look of his does wonders in helping to encourage you to make that leap, to take that chance that you never knew you would be taking. It's so strange, you think, he could do anything, as mountainous as destroying death robots, or as simple as baking a cake with you on a Sunday morning, and it would all still come together into the nice little package of ‘good’ he had to offer. Nothing changed with him, even now, as that same sense of good comes in clutch to hull you away from your enemies and take on the burden instead of you. An honor like that is impossible to find, and irreplaceable once tossed away. You better remember that Y/N.

And that's when your answer becomes clear. Something so profound and special, so kind and gentle, will never be forgotten or taken for granted if you have any say in it. And it will never shake, nor ever waiver. You have a promise to uphold, and you intend to keep it. As a protector, as the protected, and as a roommate.

#rhaz’s works #sonic the hedgehog x reader #knuckles x reader #knuckles the echidna x reader #knuckles fluff #knuckles the echidna fluff #knuckles x reader fluff #sonic the hedgehog fluff #sonic x reader #sonic fluff #sonic fic #knuckles fic #movie knuckles

764 notes · View notes

xoxo-ren-xoxo · 21 days

Note

asking about your convex serial killer au

you've activated my trap card!!!

convexian serial killer au is constantly rotating in my mind and I am going to explain it because I neeeeed more people to ask me questions about it. It's another au I have been constructing with @angeart my enabler and friend. And it makes me insane <3

CW: obviously I will be talking about murder, but also torture, some gore, kidnapping, manipulation, and cannibalism. And also there's a lot of throwing up. Sorry.

Also this au is notably darker and more immoral than my usual stuff. They kill people and have fun doing it!! And I don't really punish them for it! Be warned! Explanation begins below the cut :)

So, Scar and Cub are serial killers who have been moving from city to city for a while now. They currently live in a houseshare situation with Grian, sharing his spare bedroom and helping him pay rent. Now, Grian is a pretty normal guy, he doesn't know about the murders which take place in his own house.

Generally, Scar and Cub will kidnap their victims, bring them to the house, tie them up and kill them. Scar likes taunting and messing with the victims while Cub has a fascination with anatomy and dissection. Cub is the one who cleans up and covers their tracks, too.

Obviously, if they just murdered people in Grian's kitchen, Grian would notice, but they specifically chose to live with Grian because Grian's job (architect) means he's away from home in other cities for days on end. So they kill people while he's away and clean up before he gets back. It's a comfortable arrangement.

Until, of course, one day Grian comes home earlier than he said he would, and finds Scar and Cub in the middle of a kill. He's frozen to the spot as he watches Cub quickly slit the victim's throat. Scar approaches him, trying to shift his focus, but Grian is basically in shock.

Cub and Scar don't want to kill Grian for several reasons. 1. they think he's cute. 2. rent is cheap. 3. they're in a good location right now and don't want to move. So, while Grian is still kind of buffering, panicking internally but to terrified to do anything externally, Scar guides him to his room and mumbles somewhat comforting things to Grian until he passes out.

The next morning, Grian is convinced it was a dream. The kitchen is spotless. Scar makes him breakfast. He still feels like he's in shock. Cub confirms that it was not, in fact, a dream, by bringing it up, and Grian throws up in the sink.

So, you'd think Grian would call the police or something, right? Wrong! He's a freak! Okay, okay, that's a little mean. He's still in shock and somewhat disbelieving that his sweet, polite, (attractive), kind housemates could possibly hurt anyone. And... if he's being honest, seeing the light leave the victim's eyes yesterday kind of gave him a rush of adrenaline- a thrill he hasn't felt before.

As I say, he's a freak.

Grian is careful, cautious as Scar and Cub explain why they don't want him dead, so long as he doesn't try to report them. They can keep killing while Grian is away, so he never has to see it again. He can pretend it isn't happening!

But Grian doesn't want to pretend it isn't happening. He wants to be there. He wants to see it. When he tells Scar and Cub as much, their sharp smiles almost make him change his mind.

Things start... rocky. Grian is not built to witness graphic murder, especially when the victim is begging and pleading with him to help. The victims tend to be tied to a chair- one Grian keeps in the attic, because it doesn't fit the style of his kitchen. Grian, on the other hand, takes to sitting some distance away on a kitchen stool, by the sink, watching his housemates work.

For the first few times, Grian can't really watch at all. He's sick at least once each time, usually more. But... eventually, he can stand it.

He feels like something changed in his brain when he saw that first victim die. He knows he shouldn't be enjoying the gory display. He shouldn't enjoy the feeling of power he gets when the victims beg him to save them, and he refuses. But he does enjoy it. Just watching is enough for him.

Not to mention his housemates look really rather good covered in blood. More than a few times, he has dreams about them hurting him- about being one of their victims. It scares him, sure. This whole thing scares him. But it doesn't scare him as much as it should. And his rapidly beating heart is for more than just adrenaline.

Grian eventually starts acting as bait, luring in victims and taking them to a secondary location where Scar and Cub are waiting. As an avian, he's small (actually, small even for an avian) and unassuming, so most people trust him. At least compared to his human housemates, who have maybe a fifty percent success rate in luring people out.

Another thing Grian finds himself enjoying is pretending to be a victim, too. Making a big show of pleading with Scar and Cub to "not make him watch", leading the real victim to believe he's on their side.

He never is, obviously. It just makes things more satisfying when they realise.

Eventually, Grian starts sleeping in the same bed as Scar and Cub. He's particularly close with Scar, but Cub isn't the most outwardly affectionate person. Scar tells Grian one time that meeting someone Cub doesn't want to kill is rare enough on its own, let alone someone he actively likes. Their relationship doesn't really have a label, but they are partners.

Scar likes to ramble about what he would do if Grian was one of their victims- and one time Scar covers Grian in blood and viscera just to see what it looks like. The feeling of flesh and blood between his feathers makes Grian feel nauseous, but Scar running his hands through his wings makes up for it. It's gross. He showers like three times afterwards. But he loves it.

Anyway, they get on with life. There's also a turn to cannibalism later in the story. When they have their first avian victim, Scar goes on about how avians taste the best, and, well, Grian *has* to try, right?

He gets a little bit addicted. Don't worry about it.

Though you can ask me about that, if you want to hear. Also, other friends of Grian get involved in this in various ways: Mumbo, Jimmy, and Pearl. I'm sooo ready to rant about this au at any time so PLEASE if anyone reading this wants to hear more ASK MEEE.

That's all for now tho >:) hope you enjoyed

#ben chats shit on the internet #hermitcraft #hermitblr #hermitshipping #convexian serial killer au #convexian #cubscarian #fanfiction #cannibalism #gore #murder #ask #anon #anon: convexian cannibalism au #long post

13 notes · View notes

fuwaprince · 1 day

Note

hey. are you okay friend?

No, I'm not and c'est la vie! Sometimes you're okay and sometimes you're not. Thanks for checking in sweet friend 🫂 I hope you're having a beautiful day! 💕

Yesterday I helped Mr. Leonard deep clean his home that we're still trying to save and this morning I unfortunately headed back to the hag house I reside in! He was so nice. Sent me home with half his cookies and told me to share with the people who were kind enough to give me a ride. I didn't even mean to stay over last night but I was just so tired after cleaning... I slept for a whole 10 hours! Kind of a miracle for me. I must've been comfortable

Soon as I got back to the hag house and started to microwave my usual (a single jumbo corn dog), I was rudely interrupted and told by the biggest bitch here that I am no longer a part of the household even though I am living here for the next 30 days still???? They can deny the reality (that I have been part of this house since the day I moved in) and believe in whatever delusion they so badly want to- fine!!! But the sucky part is that they say I can no longer help myself to the food my fucking rent covers because of that decision... Wackadoodle :/ Funny how the carpet slides around. They're literally fattened up by greed. They're willing to starve me down to nothing if it means I'll die faster than I can move out. Whatever it takes to drive me away I guess since the other terror tactics just didn't work! She was giving me attitude and rude comments. Other housemate blasted trans hate (happy pride btw). Got defensive af over their food in their kitchen :/ whatever

Good news is that I reapplied for food stamps after a friend motivated me to. I'm fucking praying that this time my fucked up mother doesn't sabotage it by denying me my fucking mail again like she did last time which resulted in me starving/withering all summer of last year! I should've had it this whole time... Hopefully it gets processed soon. Phone interview will take place once the weekend is over... I hope there's a way to expedite it.

If I had my own PO box then I wouldn't have to depend on my mom actually giving me my mail... I don't have a key and don't live there with her anymore but this mailing address won't work. The people here tamper with my belongings out of hate. Why? Who knows. I try not to think about the whole "what if I was a pure white lesbian instead of a brown trans traitor? Would they respect me then?" rabbit hole. I don't care. Even if I was respectable to them, I wouldn't be their friend based on how they'd treat others. Anyways, yeah. Coming back home sucks. People are mean. My heart rly hurts and keeps acting up. Stings and feels like I'm going to pass out from time to time. It's hurting more than usual and bothering me as I type this

My on and off boyfriend also texted me saying he got hit by a car a few hours ago (he's okay, apparently.... Although I question since he refused to go to a hospital). Stresses my poor heart out to hear that tbh. But yeah. Maybe I'll go on a night walk or something. I hate this house that I'm in. If Mr. Leonard lived any closer I would just walk back there and beg him to let me in. I would feel better if I was out of here and around compassionate people. I'm gonna be okay

#i just wanna say that i am happy to see somebody else made a 3rd donation to that GoFundMe I shared #life sucks rn but it gets better and seeing that restores my faith in humanity #“There are still faint glimmers of civilization left in this barbaric slaughterhouse that was once known as humanity.” - M. Gustave H.

9 notes · View notes

wooahaes · 2 years

Text

dark & stormy

pairing: non-idol!hhu & gn!reader

prompt: horror

word count: 0.8k~

warnings: thunderstorm + power outage warning! also horror video games. cheol backseating. reader lowkey threatening to punch him if he keeps backseating.

daisy’s notes: i would game w wonwoo. gamer bf. also cheol would absolutely backseat no one can prove me wrong /j

“Mingyu, you aren’t even playing--get out of my lap.”

Every once in a while, you and your housemates would have a day where all of you were stuck in the house. Usually it was because the weather was god fucking awful outside and too dangerous to traverse to work for most of you (you, Mingyu, and Seungcheol) or the other two had the options to work from home. Most of the time, the three of you would find a way to get to work because money was worth the risk, but when certain storms took hold...

Well. Let’s just say you and Mingyu were the more reasonable ones who’d call in. Seungcheol couldn’t even get outside that day and returned soaking wet twenty minutes after he left saying he called in after he saw the way people were driving. You couldn’t blame him, to be fair. You’d rather have him safe at home with the rest of you while the power was still on.

Wonwoo had been the one who reminded you of a two-person zombie game the two of you had been wanting to play together. With five bored people at home, that lead to Seungcheol backseating from the other side of Wonwoo, and Mingyu curling up next to you while Vernon half-watched from the floor in front of you and Wonwoo. Movie nights usually went like this. Gaming with Wonwoo? Not so much.

Truly, you have to wonder how bored Mingyu was to sit in on a horror game. Granted, you weren’t all that bothered by Resident Evil 6. There was a reason the game was considered notoriously bad, after all. But Mingyu? Mingyu was different.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, leaning away just a smidge... except he was still clinging to your arm. You could easily play like this, sure, but...

“Get off of them,” Wonwoo didn’t even look up. “Or I’ll make you play next.”

On the other side, Seungcheol rolled his eyes, “You’re missing ammo!”

Vernon glanced up from his phone. You’re pretty sure he was watching cat videos or sending memes to Seungkwan based off how often he kept going into his texts--not that you could read any of them. You just recognized Seungkwan’s picture. He looked up for a moment, “Have you two ever considered streaming?”

“Yes,” you and Wonwoo answered at the same time. “Our work schedules aren’t great for it.”

“You don’t have to do it together--”

“It’s easier to bounce off of someone,” you shrugged. “Also, Seungcheol, I swear to Christ if you point out something we missed, I’m gonna start throwing punches.”

“Then stop missing things,” he pouted. “I’m just trying to help.”

“You aren’t.”

Seungcheol crossed his arms, leaning back into the couch. He kept his mouth shut that time as you passed by an herb, your inventory too full to grab it at the moment--but you made the mental note to double back if you needed to. Something burst from the room next to you, and immediately you felt Mingyu’s hand tighten around your arm. A reminder of why you guys never watched horror movies when you found the time for a movie night (or, really, the way it happened was that someone would be watching a movie and somehow the rest of you would end up summoned to commentate).

You went to open your mouth to ward him off, but the power flickered. Once. Twice. And then you were engulfed in darkness, Mingyu already clinging to you as you heard Vernon raise his own voice in alarm. Wonwoo stayed still next to you, Seungcheol already swearing something about how he knew the power was going to go out soon.

And then it fell quiet after a moment, nothing but the heavy sound of raindrops against the window. Mingyu eased up on you a moment later, breathing slowly as he calmed down. You couldn’t lie: your own heart was racing the moment the power went out.

“The candles are under the sink,” Seungcheol spoke aloud, looking off toward the direction of the kitchen.

Immediately, your finger flew to the tip of your nose--and so did Wonwoo’s when he felt you move next to him. Vernon looked up, phone illuminating his face as he and Mingyu caught on. Seungcheol turned back. He frowned, sighing and getting up before holding his hand out to Vernon.

“Mine was charging,” he said, gesturing for Vernon to hand his phone over. He flipped on the flashlight, mumbling something about how he lived with children half the time.

There was something cozy about watching Seungcheol bring out the candles, setting them up before making a run to grab everyone’s phone if they didn’t have it on them (yours had also been charging, and Mingyu had left his in the bathroom earlier). Even though you and Wonwoo had lost all your progress, you were glad that the game had brought all of you together.

Maybe next time you’d make it a game night for everyone instead.

general taglist: @wonuziex @twancingyunhao

#wooahaes.fic #seventeen imagine #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #svt x reader #svt imagine #svt x you #seventeen fluff #seungcheol fluff #wonwoo fluff #mingyu fluff #vernon fluff

203 notes · View notes

boba-beom · 3 months

Text

txt as things I did during my uni years (swf and nsfw tmi edition)

⊹ ࣪ ˖

okay so I saw @/monsterrv do this but ‘txt as things I’ve done this past year”. here’s my own take on it lol

Yeonjun:

sfw - working night and day at the library while eating elevated vers. of shin ramen for 2 weeks straight, drinking kopiko blanco coffee every 5 hours, and snacked on small seaweed sheets

nsfw - went out with friends and drunk kissed a cute guy who called them pretty then saw him on campus two days later and didn’t click until friend confirmed it was him

Soobin:

sfw - baked cookies and brownies late at night as a pick me up for when uni work stressed them tf out. also brought cookies and brownies to uni the next day for coursemates :>

nsfw - went clubbing with friends and didn’t go home till 5am, just sitting at the park seesaw and talking about random things with said friends and some people who also didn’t go home after clubbing lol

Beomgyu:

sfw - played the guitar and recorded covers saved on the laptop in the hopes of posting them one day, but would rather keep it to themselves

nsfw - went home early from a night out and bickered with the housemate in the taxi, then messaged said housemate if he wanted head as a joke but he actually went to their bedroom, had to be quiet while the rest of the house was asleep. then kicked him out at 4am lmao

Taehyun:

sfw - works through dissertation and final projects while having a fever and lack of sleep, and was worried to fail but ended up graduating with a 2:1 (upper second class) (ik realistically taehyun would get a first)

nsfw - smoked weed for the first time while super tipsy / borderline drunk with some people they’ve just met at a friend’s student house on halloween all giggly

Hueningkai:

sfw - sitting at the local park with a friend, reading a book in the sun, then ditching the book after 3 pages and people watching, playing the ‘siblings or couple’ game with friend 😭

nsfw - day drinking (bottomless brunch) and then wanting to get new piercings but couldn’t because they forgot you shouldn’t be drinking before getting piercings

nsfw mainly with mentions of alcohol / drugs and the nsfw for beomgyu’s was a one off lmaooo

#[ 🥮 ] — smiles rambles.#thought it was a funny concept #the more you know 😭#mdni #smiles hard hours

13 notes · View notes

mr2swap · 2 years

Text

what was his name? Tinder?

I have to admit that I was absolutely wrong, life as a man is the best thing that could have happened to me! when my son Jackson went to college and the house was completely alone I got depressed, my husband had died years ago and my son was always the only thing I had in this world, maybe I suffocated him with all my love and affection because in When he came of age he left home, rented an apartment near his university with the money his father left us and left me.

My heart was broken and I was alone, I still remember the last thing I said before my new life began "how I would like to spend a little more time with my beloved son" maybe someone was listening to my words because the next morning my wish was fulfilled.

The strong and stinky smell of men's sweat woke me up in the morning, the sound of the radio playing sports and my son's voice “Dude, get up! We are going to be late for the gym” I was no longer in my old house, now I was in the apartment that my son and his friends entered outside the university. but the most surprising thing is that she was no longer a 50-year-old woman.

Right now I was in the body of one of his housemates my new name was Oliver, the stinky smell coming from my armpits made me realize I wasn't dreaming. I jumped to my feet, my heart was beating like crazy and adrenaline and hormones like this were now flowing through me. -dude! good dick!-

said my son smiling and pointing to my crotch, this guy used to sleep completely naked, now I was having my first-morning erection, my face turned totally red with embarrassment and I went straight to the nearest door to hide, luckily I had found the bathroom I slowly approached the mirror to look at my new body, I didn't recognize myself, the only thing I know is that I had become a young man, one of my son's companions.

I ran my calloused hands over my new body, it was soft but my muscles were hard and chiseled, never in my life had I seen a man as attractive as the one I had become. I had never seen my face in the mirror before and yet it was love at first sight, my teeth were perfectly white and I no longer had any wrinkles in my eyes now my skin was smooth soft and tanned, honestly I was the hottest man I had ever seen view.

- seriously friend stop playing with your cock in there and let's go to the gym! I don't want to be late for class- my son knocked on the door to encourage me to get out of the bathroom, he had become rude since he left our house, I searched the bathroom for something to wear and the only thing I found was old and stinky clothes that it was in a laundry basket, that would have to do.

I felt uncomfortable wearing another man's dirty and smelly clothes but there was nothing else and it's not like it wasn't my own sweat I came out of the bathroom with the dirty clothes and my son immediately took my arm to drag me with him to the bathroom. gym with him.

The gym was really Cooool! It was great to put these huge strong arms to work, I've never felt so alive I finally understand guys and their obsession with the gym, looking at myself in the mirror while lifting weights made me totally horny, I just hope my huge arms distracted to all of what also rose between my legs. my muscles tense, warm and damp from the stinking, sticky sweat of this body.

-Dude, how many times have we told you to use deodorant? you suck so much every time you raise your arms I can smell you from the weight bench!-my son had never been so honest with me, but he was right. I raised one of my arms and smelled my own stinky sweat from my steamy armpit, somehow that made me feel hotter than before, maybe it was because of all the pheromones this body had, but that encouraged me to continue exercising, this time I did some cardio on the treadmill and my legs never moved so fast.

As soon as I changed devices my son followed me and we started talking, all the tensions and thoughts of being in a body of an unknown man dissolved while I was talking to him. having that “Gym Bro” relationship with my own son joking and talking as best friends was a revelation, we talked about girls, sports we even talked a little about my well his mother, he needs his space and maybe as a mother, I can't understand it but as "Oliver" I can see my son again.

On top of that, there are a lot of advantages now that I am a man, I can eat as much as I want and not have to worry about calories now with my new young metabolism! and it doesn't matter as much because he burned off all that delicious fat in a 2-hour session at the gym. I have been eating like there is no tomorrow since I got into this body and I haven't gained a single pound! Dude men have it very easy!

When I was an old woman I never understood the passion that my son and the boys his age put into video games, now I can't stop playing them with my son I have never felt so close before since I have the body of one of my his friends!

I even think that this young brain full of hormones is affecting my mind a little because now I think I like girls, I have not stopped having wet dreams where I put my huge cock in their hot and wet pussies and I could not stop masturbating 3 times a day since I'm this guy and I must say that jerking off like a man is really cool! much easier than my old body.

Maybe it's time I got that app on my phone that my son told me about, what was his name? Tinder? Damn, I got horny again...

I had previously published a preview of this story here on Tumblr and my Patreon subscribers have been able to read it in its entirety for a few months, if you like this story and want to see more of my stories you can take a look at my Patreon page, I have a lot of great stories!

#bodyswap #body swap #male body swap #body switch

363 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs

dawnglows

Ocean, are you listening?

foldedlegs-kawaii

フォーデッレグス！

fighterka69

MY INSPIRATION

selenagomez-werk

Selena Gomez

freshvanillapng

just a sip