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formosusiniquis · 1 month

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for @thefreakandthehair and inspired by this. Everyone enjoy some bee keeper!Eddie saving the day so Steve can play some baseball

Eddie picked up beekeeping the way he picked up most things in his life: accidentally and by virtue of following a crumb of serotonin straight down the rabbit hole of obsession. It isn't what he expected to do for a living, and at this point he does have to admit that when it accounted for 91% of his taxable income last year it is what he does for a living, but he likes that he gets to work outside and set his own hours. He likes that the regular customers he has who buy his honey are nice, and likes getting to advise people about things like flavor profiles and what they taste best with, it was the thing he liked best about his position at the dispensary that was now more of a side gig. And then there's his contract with city animal control that gets him called out to parts of the city he didn't even know existed to relocate hives a lot more often than he thought would happen.

It's a good life, and he likes that he's made it himself.

But it's the kind of life that gets him calls from people late at night when trying to finish binging Fallout before the internet can spoil it for him. He has a rule to always answer when Chrissy calls though, he isn't going to miss helping her if it's an emergency.

“I need a favor,” she says before he's even finished answering.

“Anything for you,” he agrees.

“You might regret saying that.”

Chrissy Cunningham turned a full ride scholarship for cheerleading into a business and marketing degree and she turned that into a fancy job with the White Sox that he didn’t fully understand but totally supported. He wore the free cap she gave him, and was endlessly glad that as a white guy he didn’t get gatekept the way girls like Chrissy did, since he couldn’t name a single player on the team.

And it was that endless support that had him in his full gear at the White Sox stadium with his smoker and bee vac.

Chrissy meets him at the front with a harried expression and a warm hug, “I’d say I owe you one but if everything goes right we’ll be totally square before the first inning.”

“What does that mean?” he asks, repeating it louder when all she gives him is an enigmatic smile.

The only answer he truly gets is being shoved into a little green cart that she drives with a frightening speed. She drives them through the stadium through a route he has no hope of remembering on his own until they reach an opening that leads straight out to the field. Eddie always had a dream, as a kid, of being a rockstar, driving out onto the diamond to a sudden and uproarious cheer is the closest he thinks he’s ever come to truly experiencing what it would be like to be famous on stage.

He hams it up of course. Waves his arms to try to get them to cheer louder as Chrissy stears them toward the lifter that he’s going to have to go up to get to the swarm. And they do, the cheers becoming an enthusiastic roar, a sound so loud he thinks he could climb them up to the bees without the lifter.

“Focus will you, you’re on national television right now.” Chrissy says, with a subtle elbow to his side.

“Yeah but how many people are watching a delayed baseball game?”

Never one to just take his smartass comments, he’s sure that Chrissy says something super witty and sarcastic back. Only Eddie made the mistake of turning his head and catching sight of the most glorious ass in the snuggest pair of pinstriped white baseball pants and lost the ability to hear. A second elbow in his side reminds his brain full of metaphorical bees that he’s on television and he doesn’t have his veil on, he isn’t about to get caught drooling on television.

The fattest ass in the stadium turns around and Eddie thinks he’s been stung. He has to be going into anaphylaxis with the way he suddenly can’t catch his breath. The guy in front of him, with a hand on his hip and his eyes trained unwaveringly on Eddie is tongue-swellingly hot. And he just keeps getting closer as Chrissy doesn’t stop driving forward.

“Steve, you’re not supposed to get this close, you're our starting pitcher you can’t get stung.” Chrissy chides.

“I just wanted to make sure that he wasn’t going to kill the bees.” The guy, Steve, says.

“He’s not.”

“I’m not,” Eddie says, shaking his head as fast as he can, like that will make things more convincing for the hot baseball guy. But he’s got an eyebrow raised giving Eddie an up and down like he still doesn’t believe him.

“Look,” he pulls out his equipment so Steve can see. “I’ll smoke them with this, that’ll make them calm so they don’t freak out when I vacuum them up with this.”

“And running them through a vacuum isn’t going to kill them?”

“It’s a gentle suck,” he says, immediately filled with a burning mortification. “It’s just enough to move them into the tank where I can relocate them.”

Hot baseball Steve has his big brown eyes open even wider, there’s a twitch at his mouth like he’s about to say something else and Eddie actually can’t have that. “Chris can we get me strapped into this thing, we want to get this big ballgame going right?”

Steve takes a couple steps back, hands raised up in a placating gesture. Whether it’s for him or for Chrissy because he didn’t listen, Eddie’s too busy putting a neon yellow safety buckle on to think about it.

He takes his time, this is basically free marketing so he’s not about to rush through or do a half-assed job. But in just a few minutes he has a vac full of bees and the game is ready to be played. The lifter gently lowers Eddie back to the ground with another round of cheers. He unclips from the safety harness and takes a shallow bow for the crowd.

Then Steve is jogging over, Eddie stands up straighter than he ever has in his life. Nervous for what is about to happen.

“You saved the game, man!” Steve has the nicest smile that Eddie has ever seen, wide and toothy. He is but a man and thus falls a little bit in love immediately.

“It was nothing, really, just part of the job, y’know.”

“Well, here’s something you probably haven’t done on the job. You have to throw the first pitch.”

“No, no, I absolutely will not be doing that.”

It’s the wrong thing to say, a mischief lights up in Steve’s eyes. He jerks his chin up at Chrissy who says something Eddie is too far away to hear into a walkie talkie. He thinks he has a guess though when the loudspeaker begins to drawl, “Laaadies and Gentlemen, our game is about to begin. Tonight’s first pitch will be thrown by our bee rescuer, Eddie Munson!”

The crowd begins to scream again, but the sound is almost like the hive's steady drone when Steve leans close enough to whisper, “It’s just ceremonial, all you’ve got to do is throw it. I’ll even play catcher for you.” And Eddie’s helpless to do anything but nod.

There’s actually a lot that has to happen before they’re ready for him to throw his sad attempt at a pitch. But that gives him the time to settle his equipment out of the way and scream at Chrissy. Still it’s sooner than he’d like before she’s shuffling him over to a big mound of dirt in the center of everything. She pushes his hat and veil back and it feels a little proud father of the bride right until she pats him on the top of his head and whispers, “Don’t fuck it up, nerd.”

His palms are sweaty, they feel too slick to get a good grip on the small, white ball. He thinks he might throw up, only across from him Steve is there. A glove on one hand he sends Eddie an encouraging little finger wave with the other.

He can do this.

He takes a deep breath and throws.

It’s awful. Too high and a little off center, but Steve snags it in that large, ungloved palm and the crowd cheers again like he’s done something fantastic. He’s starting to think they’re just happy to be here.

He starts to walk off the field, toward Chrissy where he knows he’s safe. But he can’t help noticing that Steve is jogging his way too; the ball that Eddie just threw in one hand, a sharpie in the other, his glove tucked tight under his arm. “Eddie, hey, you gotta take this with you, dude.”

Steve lobs it at him in a soft underhand, and Eddie still fumbles the catch, “Thanks, man, but really, I don’t-” the rest of his response dies in his mouth when he realizes just what Steve has scribbled across the ball.

“Give me a call if you’re interested,” Steve says, walking backward toward the mound Eddie just left, “I can show you my gentle suck.” He laughs at his own shitty pickup line, which is somehow more attractive than his whole hot jock thing.

Eddie thinks he must be blushing up to his hairline by the time he makes it back to Chrissy and his things. She looks too smug for it to be any other way. “Told you we’d be even before the end of the night.”

“Chris, if this goes well I might owe you a favor. Now we gotta go, I’ve got bees to relocate.”

#steddie #steddie fic #my fic #baseball player steve harrington #beekeeper eddie munson #platonic hellcheer #i know just enough about baseball to enjoy the occasional game lex so sorry for any egregious inaccuracies #about half of the writing time was me trying to figure out how bees are relocated

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dandylovesturtles · 7 months

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Sidelined AU Info Post

Alright, I guess we're doing this

CWs: mentions of internalized ableism, struggles with mental health

Timeline:

all of S1 is the same as in canon up until End Game

however, after Splinter turns over the helmet to Draxum, Draxum does not put on the armor, but chooses to put Leo inside instead, realizing that whoever goes in will probably have something horrible happen to them. that's detailed in this fic

unlike Draxum, who gets spit out of the armor immediately, Leo ends up trapped inside. from Leo's perspective, he is only vaguely aware of what's happening outside (it's a bit sunken place-ish, with him seeing snatches of events like through a grainy television), and he has only small amounts of influence over what the armor does

once Feral Shredder is on the loose, he pretty immediately starts destroying the Hidden City. Draxum realizes that he has inadvertently released a great evil on his people, the exact opposite of what he wanted, and he turns to the Hamatos to help him stop it. obviously they don't want to work with Draxum, but they have to get Leo back so they take the help

it takes them two days, during which the Shredder moves up to start terrorizing New York as well, but eventually they get him subdued. I'm not 100% on what goes down yet or whether Big Mama gets involved (I'm leaning toward not), but Leo fighting from the inside is a big help

Leo is removed from the armor and is in really bad physical shape; meanwhile the Shredder is subdued for now. in the immediate aftermath, the Foot Clan manages to get ahold of the Shredder and take off with him

he's too weak to do anything immediately but he is very much a Looming Threat the family is aware of

Draxum leaves for awhile at this point because none of them want him around and seeing Leo in the aftermath did wake him up to "oh yeah that's just a kid and I did that to him," also he's feeling real bad about that whole "accidentally almost destroying the yokai and also maybe the world" thing

meanwhile, Leo is severely weakened, but there's not anything that the family can do to hasten his recovery. they can only get him hooked up to an IV for fluids and nutrients and wait

it takes Leo a few days to become fully lucid again; during that time he tries to fight anyone around him off or sometimes pushes his family away to "protect" them

eventually Leo does regain lucidity, he tells everyone he's fine but he's Super Depressed. he's also lost his mystic powers completely.

Splinter also retreats a bit at this point, because he feels guilt for handing the helmet over to Draxum instead of trying to find a different way to rescue his boys, which isn't a great thing for him to do but his mental health is also not doing very well (someone get these guys some therapy)

in the meantime the bros and April manage the best they can, they all have different approaches but I'll go into detail about that in the next section

there's no treatment for Leo's condition outside the most boring one: time, exercise, and diet. unsurprisingly he hates this

Healing Bad Times abound, as shown in this fic

eventually the boys have to go out on a mission again. Leo, feeling useless, listens in on the comms from the lair, and ends up catching something the other boys' missed, meaning he's able to save them from a trap or something idk exactly what the point is he makes himself useful

this opens up a new path for Leo, one his brothers very heavily encourage

with a new goal in mind, Leo starts taking a lot better care of himself, actually following his physical therapy routine, spending time gaining new skills, and accepting help in the form of mobility aids. his physical and mental health both start making big improvements

this also helps his dad's mental health, everyone is doing better even if things aren't perfect

Donnie builds Leo a command center modeled after the bridge of Jupiter Jim's ship, he absolutely loves it. whenever the boys+April are on missions, Leo is in his command center helping from the background

eventually Leo has gotten to the point where he has enough strength for day to day life most of the time, he still isn't fighting baddies on rooftops but he can get to a store and back without collapsing on a good day and that's pretty good!

the Foot Clan has been a much bigger threat in this version of S2 and it's clear they're up to something big

of course right when Leo is starting to feel stable and happy again, that's when they launch their final attack

a lot of the finale events go down similarly to how they do in canon, minus Battle Nexus New York. they get Karai back but then she dies, Shredder destroys their home (including Leo's command center :c ), everything is Bad

Leo gets his mystic powers back the same way his brothers do, though he needs a little bit of an extra helping nudge from April/Karai, since he didn't think that was a thing he could still do

everyone getting their mystic powers is emotional but it's especially emotional for Leo. he didn't even know what ninpo was before today, but he knew after the Shredder it was like some part of his soul got locked away, and now that he can feel it again he finally feels whole

it gives him a burst of adrenaline so he can participate in the fight, though he doesn't do much of the actual battling, instead getting his bros where they need to be for the big hits (I mean this is basically what he does anyway haha)

it takes Donnie exactly .02 seconds to figure out how to use his own mystic powers to support Leo physically so that helps

after this, Leo becomes a more constant part of the team in the field, though he still primarily works as support and only gets into direct fights when he feels like he has to

instead of being made leader like in canon, Leo and Raph become co-leaders. Leo's own leadership abilities have improved massively, but Raph has more experience in the field, so having the two of them working together means they cover each other's blind spots, and the division of labor is less stressful for both of them

since Leo's already been through his character development and this tension is gone the movie events play out totally differently but I haven't gotten that far yet lol. I'm sure the apocalypse still happens somehow, though, I'd hate to lose Casey Jr

happy ending whooo

Relationships

Raph

Raph feels a lot of guilt about what happened to Leo; he was supposed to protect his little brothers and he didn't, and now one of them has permanent physical disabilities as a result. add to that it was Raph's idea to be heroes in the first place and yeah... he's not doing great

because of this guilt, Raph's instinct is to essentially baby Leo - he wants to take care of his every need as soon as it arises. this makes Leo feel stifled and infantilized, and drives a wedge in their relationship (the same one Raph is driving between himself and Mikey, in fact)

his and Donnie's distinctly different approaches to the situation also mean that they get into arguments often and can't really deal with being around each other, leaving Raph feeling isolated at the start (and thus pouring more attention and effort into Leo, which compounds the problem)

Raph dealing with his own guilt and trying to find the balance between helping Leo while also respecting his need for independence, boundaries, and dignity is a big part of his journey in the AU, and it also improves his relationship with Mikey and Donnie as he gets better at those skills

Donnie

Donnie is not dealing well with the fact that there's nothing to fix. they can only be patient and work incrementally to improve Leo's condition

he distracts himself by putting all his energy into making the lair accessible for Leo, building him mobility aids and doing everything he can to help

he also has a hard time understanding why Leo won't do the things that will help him (at first), because doesn't he just want things to go back to normal? doesn't he want to help himself? why won't he just do what he obviously has to do, Donnie does not understand

Leo is deep in denial at first, and he feels like he breaks down and starts doing physical therapy and using mobility aids and doing basically any of the things that will help him, that means it's not going to magically get better, it's going to take time and effort and it will probably never be fixed, just improved, and he hates that so much he's choosing to treat this like a temporary cold or flu that will blow over any day now

Donnie doesn't understand that so he takes Leo's refusal as a rejection and animosity abounds!

breakdowns and admissions of feelings will eventually happen

Donnie and Leo together come to grips with the idea that there is no fixing this and there is no return to how things were before but they can work toward a new normal that's just as good

Mikey

this one is a little bit too big for Dr. Delicate Touch and Dr. Feelings

Mikey tries, but he is just a kid, and with their dad emotionally retreating too there's just too many feelings for him to deal with on his own

he's gonna play family therapist until he breaks

he's frustrated because he can see what each of his brothers need to do to feel better but they just! won't! they won't do it, and he doesn't know how to make them

he's really stressed

it's Mikey that realizes that Leo needs goals to work toward to get himself motivated to take care of himself, and it's Mikey who pushes the hardest for Leo's new role in the team

sometimes Mikey will challenge Leo to something silly, like who can make the most throws of a paper ball into a trash can, just to push Leo into exercising

he finds other little ways to help the others too, but he still can't solve the big problems on his own

meltdown ensues

Mikey has to learn to take care of himself, too, while the others have to learn they can't lean so hard on him for all their emotional problems

April

the only one holding on around here. it helps that she doesn't actually have to live in the powderkeg

takes a rationally minded approach to all these problems, kind of functioning like family therapist along with Mikey but in a healthier and more controlled way

helps get them resources from above ground

Leo opens up the most about his feelings about his physical condition to her first, because she strikes the best balance between being a sympathetic ear without coddling him

she's also stressed, but she has an outside support network so she's handling it better

Splinter

fully blames himself for what happened to Leo and has a hard time getting over it

depression in full swing

it means he can't easily get out of bed to help his kids, but then he feels bad because he isn't helping them, which worsens the depression, which makes it hard to get out of bed... a vicious cycle

when Leo starts working on his condition he gets a pact out of his dad that they will both work on being healthier together

maybe they manage to find an actual therapist eventually idk lol

either way, Splinter and Leo grumpily sitting over their plate of broccoli and then Leo says "bet I can eat more pieces than you" and it's on son

he's trying his best

Leo's Condition

Leo came out of the armor severely dehydrated and malnourished, even more so than any person should realistically be after two days; just keeping him from dying of the dehydration was the most immediate struggle

the main issue is that Leo's life force, mystic abilities included, were basically sucked out, leaving his body catastrophically physically weak

his muscle mass can come back with time and diet

the bigger problems are the bone density and chronic fatigue. while Leo can improve these, they'll never be back to where they were before the Dark Armor

his reduced bone density means he has to be careful doing anything physical because the chance he can break a bone is much higher than average, and he stands to suffer more from that break than the average person

he'll eventually get to where he can go through his day-to-day life just fine most days, and can even do some of the physical things he enjoyed before, he just has to be careful and know his limits. he'll never be pulling the 1440 off the halfpipe again, but he can still skateboard as long as he's careful.

even when recovered (as much as he can be), he has bad days and days when the fatigue is really strong. how Leo feels on a bad day is up in the air; sometimes he's at peace with it and generally cheerful, happy to be around his family even if he spends most of the time in his chair or on the couch dozing in and out. other days the depression rears its ugly head and he can get a bit nasty and bitter again. his family is much more patient with him on days like that than he is with himself.

in the beginning Leo also has brain fog and sensitivity to light and sound. these clear up over time, especially once Leo starts making more effort to exercise his brain. he starts reading a lot more and doing puzzles, especially things like sudoku and word puzzles, which helps a lot. thankfully these changes aren't permanent

his inner ears were also damaged a bit, this also heals up largely on its own, sometimes he still has difficulties hearing his brothers if they're whispering or far away but it's not so bad he needs assistance

Leo's Devices

Wheelchair

this is obviously the one Donnie had the most fun building and it shows. this baby is tricked out. Leo also likes to suggest improvements often, some for actual functionality but many just because he thinks it would be cool (like neon lights on the spokes)

it is blue obviously. do you even need me to tell you that?

it's fully electronic but Leo can also wheel it around freely if he wishes. Leo likes to wheel himself when he has the energy because it's good exercise he doesn't have to go out of his way for and he just likes feeling like he's moving himself under his own power. but when he's not feeling up to it he just drives it with the electronic controls instead

it has handles that extend and retract. being allowed to touch the handles is a major sign of Leo's trust and initially it's only for his bros + April + Splinter. Leo hates being moved when he doesn't actually ask to be moved, and he also hates being tipped backwards so his fam knows not to do it even as a joke (and it's so heavy that tipping him is kind of hard, anyway). someone touching the handles or messing around with them without permission gets you immediate backlash from protective siblings

that said Leo has them extended often so he can hang things off them, even though Donnie constantly gripes that that is not their intended purpose!

Sr Hueso is another person who gets handle-touching-privileges pretty fast, and he's also the one Leo asks to move him most often because he thinks it's really funny. he hams it up every time. Hueso is exasperated but does it anyway

(if Hueso adds a few extra wheelchair-accessible tables to Run of the Mill no one has to know)

the chair can also be moved by S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. this is mostly just for emergency situations, or times when the chair is somewhere Leo is not. Shelldon is a very good boy who does not move the chair without Leo's permission.

it has a billion storage spaces and little hidey holes and it can sync with Leo's phone to play music and it also has a charge port for his phone and yeah basically anything Leo and Donnie can come up with goes into this thing. it's a behemoth

Donnie also made Leo a lighter-weight chair with fewer features that he most often uses when he's good using his walker/cane/braces but wants to clear a larger distance first, and eventually Donnie makes him an athletic wheelchair so he can play games like wheelchair basketball

Walker

the walker is also blue but there's nothing particularly special about it

Leo hates using it because it feels like an old person thing. even if realistically he knows there are plenty of reasons people use them, including his own situation, culture is culture and it makes him feel bad no matter what rationality states

so basically once he doesn't have to use it he doesn't

as they all get more comfortable with Leo's situation and he starts openly using humor to cope, jokes about Leo's chair and cane become pretty commonplace in the fam (all good-natured of course). they know the walker is too much of a sore spot though, and poking fun at it is the fastest way to get Leo to do something stupid, so no one does. it's better to just pretend it's not there

Crutches/Canes

he eventually ends up with a variety of these, with different levels of support depending on what he's needing on a given day.

some of the canes are more fashionable than others. this is important to him.

Leo pretty much always has one of these on hand just in case, even on days where he feels alright to walk on his own

he is not afraid to bonk a brother with a cane or crutch but he does so knowing they are free to retaliate

Leg Braces

Leo doesn't need these every day but they're a pretty standard part of his wardrobe at this point

they start out plain but get increasingly elaborately decorated as time goes on because he, Donnie, and Mikey can't help themselves

like the walker, the braces are in the "don't make fun of" zone, though Leo is happy to get positive comments about them and doesn't really need their presence ignored

Other Mobility Aids

Leo has a variety of things to help with his loss of grip strength, difficulties bending over, tremors, etc. all of them are either made by Donnie or ethically "acquired" by April

he drives everyone crazy by leaving them in random places and then forgetting where they are. Donnie starts installing locator tags on everything they give Leo

jokes about these are fine, Leo makes them often himself and has silly names for all of them (this also drives Donnie crazy)

#rottmnt #sidelined au #phew #can't believe it lol I don't need more AUs but here we are #also I do not have any mobility disabilities myself #a lot of this comes from experiences with family + research #however feel free to correct me if I've misrepresented anything!#I do want to be respectful #it's why it's important for me to stress the name of the AU is based on Leo's own feelings (and how he overcomes them)#and not intended as an outward judgement on his situation or abilities

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mcflymemes · 6 months

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PROMPTS FROM SPONGEBOB SQUAREPANTS * some of my favorite quotes from the show, adjust as necessary

his chops are too righteous!

it’s evil. it’s diabolical. it’s lemon scented!

lord knows i’ve tried.

two words. na. chos.

yeah, i get called that a lot.

it's just a cruel reminder that i'm single and likely to remain that way forever.

what doesn't kill you usually succeeds in the second attempt.

stupidity isn't a virus, but it sure is spreading like one.

goodbye everyone, i’ll remember you all in therapy.

don't you have to be stupid somewhere else?

i used to have a kidney stone. everything passes eventually.

you can't fool me. i listen to public radio!

stop it, [name], you're scaring him!

do instruments of torture count?

give to the children's fund? what have the children ever done for me?

this is not your average, everyday darkness. this is... advanced darkness.

what's better than serving up smiles?

i guess i'm not wearing any pants today.

did you smell it? that smell. a kind of smelly smell. the smelly smell that smells… smelly.

wake me up when i care.

look at all the hip, young people eating salads!

he was so ugly that everyone died.

the best time to wear a striped sweater is all the time!

well, the way i see it, there are three possibilites.

hibernation is the opposite of beauty sleep.

that’s it mister! you just lost your brain privileges!

good people don’t rip other people’s arms off.

well, we lost our car again.

pull your pants up. we’re going home.

you were right. fighting is for children.

i’m a good noodle!

remember, licking doorknobs is illegal on other planets.

your ceiling is talking to me!

we don’t need television.

the inner machinations of my mind are an enigma.

i’ll have you know i stubbed my toe last week while watering my spice garden and i only cried for twenty minutes.

hey, if i close my eyes, it doesn’t seem so dark.

is mayonnaise an instrument?

those are some big words. i’ve never heard you use them before.

my vocabulary is infinitely expanding.

we destroyed your most prized possession.

we shall never deny a guest even the most ridiculous request.

let’s see, a five letter word for happiness. money.

can i have everybody’s attention?

i have to use the bathroom.

do you know what day today is?

could you not stand so close? you’re making me claustrophobic.

i used your clarinet to unclog my toilet.

are they laughing at us?

if you can’t do the time, don’t do the crime.

he needs us now more than ever.

what is today, but yesterday’s tomorrow?

ice is just a myth.

this working out thing isn’t working out.

i can’t see my forehead.

i have a good idea, and no one else thinks so.

look at you, so young and happy.

i prefer to be an idiot!

sounds like a pretty good deal to me, what do you say?

don’t be sad, buddy. turn that frown upside down!

i’m ugly and i’m proud!

good! say it louder!

i can’t do it! i can’t be away from my best friend!

i need you! i can’t handle this myself!

i’m just going on vacation for a few days.

i was kinda hoping that you come along with us…

enjoy the cake everybody!

now we never have to be apart, even when we’re not together.

this is great. see you forever!

i have to keep you safe while i get some work done!

maybe he doesn’t like us.

no, are you kidding?

i propose a toast to new friends!

i guess i’ll have to move in back with my mom and dad.

he’s a thief. look at the lust in his eye…

why can’t you just accept our friendship?

#rp meme #rp memes #rp prompt #roleplay memes #roleplay prompt #rp starters #ask meme #ask memes #roleplay meme #roleplay inbox prompts #rp inbox meme #inbox prompt #inbox meme #sentence starter prompt #sentence starter #sentence starters #mcflymemes #spongebob squarepants

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freya-fallen · 2 months

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Little Dove 3/?

Part 1 Part 4

TWs for this part: smoking, manipulation, grooming

Dabi knows what he's doing is wrong. He's not blind to his own backwards morality. In fact, he revels in it. He's murdered without a second thought, for no more than a flash of annoyance. He's a consummate monster.

But this… the plans shaping up for Hawks’ sweet little sister are truly demented. They're sick, twisted, the sort of evil that leaves a stain and never washes out. He can't wait to share what the hero will do. No doubt, Hawks will try to defend himself. Endeavor will find out what his lost son made the hero do, and he will be filled with disgust for both his son and his second.

It's all due to an accident of fate. Hawks losing his phone was the best thing to happen to Dabi. Thanks to the idiot’s affectionate contact name for his sister, Dabi was going to trap the two birds in a cage of his own twisted design.

You and Dabi text every day after that. He’s funny in a dark, sardonic sort of way, but you suppose that’s normal for someone in his line of work. He convinces you to meet up the following weekend. You’re nervous to meet him again.

You’re also worried about Keigo finding out, but your brother is absent in the few days leading up to your “date.” You don’t think it can properly be called that because it’s not as if he likes you, right? He’s just being nice to his peer’s little sister who never gets out.

Either way, you’re super excited. You spend entirely too much time picking an outfit, lamenting your lack of girlfriends to ask for advice. Last time he saw you, you looked like a kid. You were in your school uniform. This time, you want him to see you looking more adult.

Eventually you settle on a black t-shirt and jeans, both of which hug you flatteringly. You wear black shoes good for walking just in case, and even put on what you consider an artful application of makeup. You think you look much more mature like this, though the butterflies in your stomach belie your cool facade.

Soon enough, you trek to the cafe where you agreed to meet. Dabi is already sitting back in one of the outdoor seats. He nods in acknowledgement and his eyes flick over you; you flush at his clear appraisal, and wish you could figure out what he’s thinking.

“C’mon,” he says, rising to throw an arm around your shoulders.

He’s so warm and the scents of smoke and tobacco waft from him, as well as something that else that reminds you of fiery nights, but you can’t quite pick out why. It doesn’t matter; the smell isn’t necessarily bad.

“Where are we going?”

He steers you toward an alley and a writhing mass of darkness appears. “This is a friend’s quirk. It’s safe,” he assures you as you step through. You cling to him through the darkness and he squeezes you close.

When you come out the other side, you’re in a small apartment. It must be his place. There’s a futon, a mini fridge, a sink, what you guess is the lavatory, but the focus is a decent sized flat screen hooked up to a few different consoles. A cardboard box is filled with folded clothes, but that’s the extent of the furniture. It’s like he just moved in.

“I figured we should hang and get to know each other,” Dabi says by way of explanation. He sprawls on the futon and gestures for you to join him, turns on the television, and begins scrolling through apps via one of the consoles. “Do you game?”

You shift from foot to foot before finally taking a seat on the edge of the futon. “A little.” Most of the games in the apartment were chosen by Keigo and you’re not big on those.

He nods. “What d’ya like to watch? I’ll put something on.”

“I don’t know, I watch pretty much anything.”

His head rolls toward you and he deadpans, “I’ll put on some porn.” Your expression must be comical because he bursts out laughing. “Relax, I’m not trying to break you.” He settles on Netflix and sticks on some Korean show about zombies. “This one’s pretty good.”

You nod, actually familiar with the show. “Oh yeah, I like this show. It gets pretty dark though.”

You watch and slowly become more comfortable, leaning back on a pillow propped against the wall. You’ve almost forgotten to be awkward by the time you see fumbling out of the corner of your eye and you glance toward its source.

Dabi has taken down his mark and sports a cigarette between his lips. The bottom one is charred, scarred all the way down into his t-shirt. He lifts a brow at you, then flicks up a finger. A blue flame dances atop it. He uses that to light the cigarette. “Penny for your thoughts?”

“You have a fire quirk?” It’s about the dumbest thing you can say, but he nods.

“Yep. And you can thank that for all these fuckin’ scars. Pretty, huh?”

The thing is, if it weren’t for the scars, you’d think Dabi is pretty. Even with them, he has a rough, edgy look to him that probably pulls women anyway.

You shrug. “I like all your piercings.”

“Yeah?” He tugs your ear lobe with the hand not holding the cigarette and you giggle. “You should get some yourself. I bet you’d look pretty hot.”

“Keigo would flip.” The words are out before you can think twice. Your hand slaps over your mouth, eyes wide.

Dabi watches you keenly with those sharp blue eyes of his. “Keigo, huh? Don’t worry, Dove, I won’t tell his secret identity.”

“Thanks.”

“As far as what he likes… well, I bet he wouldn’t like me flirting with his little sister either, but here we are.”

You fall still, unsure you heard him correctly. “You’re flirting with me?”

Dabi laughs again. “Sure am. You’re too damn cute. Why, did you think I asked you to hang just to be nice?”

“I don’t know.” Your voice is hardly above a whisper, suddenly shy under his gaze.

Dabi’s tongue skirts his lips and he leans in close. You can smell the cigarette on his breath, but it doesn’t both you. “Sweetheart, you have been running through my mind like a goddamn train since the second I saw you.” He pulls you against him and kisses the top of your head. “You okay with that?”

You smile and speak through the fluttering pulse in your throat. “Yeah.”

“Good.”

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buryustogether · 1 year

Note

plssss viktor vektor smut, maybe after female v got injured and had to be rushed to him?

mr doctor man

viktor vektor x f!reader (v)

wc: 5.2k

summary: an argument with your ripperdoc/friend with benefits leads to a distraction during an important street fight. luckily, he’s not going to hold it against you.

warnings/tags: friends with benefits, allusions to sex and hook ups, swearing, blood, reader gets the absolute shit beat out of them, fighting, angst, vomiting, gun violence, love confessions, allusions to smut

author’s note: ask and ye shall receive

partially inspired by mr doctor man by palaye royale

“ mr doctor man

questions his hands

lost his mind

clinically fine ”

Viktor was sure he was out of his mind.

When he’d become a ripperdoc, he did so with one goal, one job, in mind; helping the injured, making sure everyone in this city had a fair chance at facing whatever was waiting out there for them. He was supposed to protect his patients, make sure they were fit and safe from the very things he installed deep within their muscles and memories.

He was supposed to take care of his patients, not fuck them into oblivion.

You couldn’t help but admire the raised red scratches your nails had inflicted upon Viktor’s back as he sat tinkering with the new piece of chrome he was about to put into your open forearm. Sweat was still in the process of drying on the back of your neck, cooled by the hum of conditioning that eased out of the grates overhead. Sure, you’d come in this afternoon to grab some new tech - but you could have done that over in Kabuki. Corpo Plaza. Arroyo. Anywhere you passed on your way here. But those clinics didn’t have Vik, didn’t have the glint of his glasses when he glanced your way, didn’t have the ‘tats inked into his arm that you held onto for dear life when he was railing into you hard enough to make you see stars.

No, this was your favorite clinic by far. And it wasn’t just because you lived only five minutes away.

“So tell me, kid,” said Viktor as he gingerly placed the reinforced piece of chrome into the meat of your arm. You held your breath at the strange sensation as his expert hands slowly adjusted the metal. “You’ve never exactly expressed interest in physical combat gear. Thought you were more of a gun steel gray kind of girl.”

He talked to you like you weren’t a thing, like you weren’t a couple.

Because you weren’t. If you were being completely honest with yourself, you didn’t know exactly what you were. You’d been friends, of course, when Jackie had first brought you in with him to get his nose popped back into place after a bar fight tilted away from him. You would come over in the evenings with dinner after he closed the clinic and watch fights. You would help clean up when he needed the extra hands. And when friendly banter turned more and more flirtatious, you hadn’t been obliged to stop it.

When slaps on the shoulders turned into kisses, and those turned into finger fucks, and those turned into full-on poundings on his table or against the wall, you hadn’t protested one bit. You wanted there to be something more to it all, wanted him to think about you the same way you did him - when you were alone eating breakfast by yourself, when you were driving across town, when you were in bed at night, anywhere and everywhere all at once.

But you’d never said a word of it.

You didn’t want to cross a line you knew you couldn’t see, take whatever this was one step too far and lose one of your best friends. So you left everything where it was - don’t fix what’s not broken, right? Don’t meddle with things doing just fine on their own, right?

So you kept your mouth shut and your legs open.

“Oh, yeah,” you said and stared up at the ceiling above your head. Across the room, the low sounds of a match beginning to start murmured from the television. “I’ve got a fight in Heywood coming up in a couple of days. Guy’s known for being built like ‘Saka Tower, so I figured I’d steel myself up before going to get my ass handed to me.”

You expected Viktor to smile, for him to chuckle and for his bare abs to tense up like they did when he found something amusing. But he didn’t. Instead the corners of his mouth tilted downward as he pulled the machine that would hotwire your skin back together over to the table. “What’s this guy’s name?” he asked offhandedly.

His sudden change in tone irked you slightly. “I don’t know. Heard he goes by Decard. Big in the Badlands, apparently, and he came into town looking for competition that wasn’t walking on four legs or eating after the four-legs.”

“Hmm.”

Pursing your lips awkwardly, you drummed your fingers on your bare sternum - you were both still in the bare minimum after your little late afternoon romp - and pulled your focus back overhead. You took a breath and pushed it out. “Got a problem with me fighting or something?”

Viktor looked up at you over the rims of his glasses - fuck, that steely gray of his irises were something else - and fixed you with a warning stare. “Don’t bring your attitude now, kid,” he said and rotated the machine patching you up. Even as the conversation was going south, he was still intent on giving you the best treatment he was capable of.

“Well, I mean - sorry, but it suddenly seems like you’d rather be literally anywhere else than here.”

“I will be, if you keep running your tongue like that.”

Your stare turned into a glare as you looked up at the ceiling above your head. What the fuck was this? You and Viktor hardly ever fought - and if you did, it was over who was going to win the match you were streaming. Fuck all, you just sucked his dick until he whimpered, and now he was giving you some weird kind of cold shoulder?

You waited until the machine had done its job and your arm was back together before shoving off the table and gathering your clothes that had been scattered across the clinic floor. You could feel him - sitting in just his pants on his stool - watching your movements like a hawk. “You know what,” you said, bristling as you tugged your clothes back on, “if you’re going to go full blown hermit on me out of the blue for no fucking reason at all, I have no reason to be here.” You angrily yanked your shoes over your feet, not bothering to tie the laces. “Don’t bother showing up to the fight. I’ll have Jackie there if I get my spleen shot out.”

“Didn’t know there was an extended invite,” Viktor said as he pushed away from the table on his stool and rolled over to his desk.

“There would have been if your stage four terminal dickery hadn’t ruined the party.” Snatching up your holsters from his side table, you stopped for a moment while you clasped them over yourself. “What was that, anyway? What’s your deal? One minute we’re hot and heavy, and the next you’re acting like you want to be rid of me.”

Viktor rolled his eyes - you saw it in the reflection of the dirty mirror hung opposite his desk. He picked up that damned screwdriver he was always tinkering with and began to adjust the calibrations of his mechanical fingers. “Maybe if you got your head out of your ass for once, V, you’d see that it’s just the opposite. I don’t think you should be sticking your neck out more than you already do for a couple extra eddies. You and Jack already run around pulling enough shit. Street fighting when you should be resting isn’t exactly the move you’d pull if you’re playing with a full deck of cards.”

Fuck, he was good. He could roll five different insults into one and make it sound like he was actually worried about you.

“I’m sorry,” you said and cocked your head at him pointedly, “this coming from one of Night City’s greatest ring fighters?”

He shook his head in that way he did when he was getting ready to put something to rest - an argument, an idea, a patient… It made something in your gut twist. It made you feel small and childish - like you both knew he was right about this. Like he was talking to a little girl who refused to give up the fight just for the sake of fighting. “You’re stubborn, kid, and that’s a good thing most of the time. I’m not going to tell you what you can or can’t do. Go on. Kick some ass and prove me wrong.” He paused his tinkering for just a moment, and you thought he was going to rise and kiss you goodbye like he always did - but he just turned up the volume on the television. “I’ll be here either way.”

Overwhelmed with that sickening, roiling feeling in your belly, you threw up a hand and stalked toward the gates of the clinic. “Whatever, old man.”

As you stormed up the stairs leading into the alleyway between Viktor’s clinic and Misty’s shop, a coil of guilt turned itself about in the hollows of your chest. Maybe he was right - about your head being stuck up your ass. Your entire life you’d been fighting for your fair share in this city, being raised in the shadows of those who proved themselves time and time again to be bigger than you. From the time you knew how to properly hold a gun and throw a punch and speak your mind, you hadn’t let anything stop you - which hadn’t always been a good thing. A couple broken bones and black eyes had taught you that much.

But fighting - whether it was for your life or not - was all you knew. Arguing, and challenging, and defying… it felt as if it were in your blood like part of your DNA. The feeling of desperate survival never went away, no matter how much money you had or how full your belly was. Once it was there, it never went away.

This was what you told yourself two evenings later, when the stars and the moon were blocked out by the smog and the nighttime air was disrupted by thumping music and excited shouts and the wails of sirens in the distance. It was what you told yourself when you popped out the cricks in your neck and accepted pats on the back from those who had bet their monthly rents on you. And yet despite the fight about to happen in a few minutes’ time, despite the dozens of people surrounding the basketball court where it was to take place, your mind was stuck back in the clinic. Your ears still rang with the words both you and Viktor had hissed, your chest still stung with the venom laced between breaths. He had not called you, despite having a little get-together-date-night-come-over-and-let’s-fool-around-thing set up for last night. You had not called him, despite desperately needing encouragement for this fight, because you had caught a glimpse of Decard, and you’d almost choked on your own spit.

“Aye, V,” said a voice in your ear, and you were pulled back to the sidelines of the basketball court, where a crowd had gathered to watch the smackdown. You looked up at Jackie when he clasped your shoulder in a tight grip, forcing your attention up to his face. “You doin’ okay, choom? You nervous?”

Swallowing thick, you furrowed your brows and waved a feeble hand. Your knuckles had already been wrapped in bandages - something Viktor usually did before your fights, because he knew the best ways to keep them tight when you threw your punches. You had wrapped them yourself, and they were already falling loose. “M’fine,” you answered over the radio blaring across the lot. “Just… mind’s somewhere else.”

There came a look across Jackie’s face that told you he already knew exactly what you were talking about. You didn’t want to think about how he did. “Listen,” he said and grasped your other shoulder. “Worry all you want after, chica, but when you’re out there?” He used his knuckle to shove your chin in the direction of the court, where the fixer who had arranged the fight was arguing over bets with a corpo. “Your mind’s got’ta be out there, too. Otherwise you’re goin’ to get your ass handed to you and your brain won’t catch up ‘til you’re hurtin’ tomorrow.” When you looked back at him, mouth stretched into a taut line, his gaze softened a bit. He jostled you. “These kind’a things don’t last forever, choom. Trust me - Misty’s been on my ass enough times that she knows it better than I do, and we always come around. Just… let it go for a few minutes, yeah?”

Steeling your heart and sharpening your expression, you nodded your head slightly and took a breath. Just for a few minutes. Nothing but left hooks and dodges and roundhouses for just a few minutes. “Okay,” you said and shook yourself out. “Okay.”

“Atta’ girl.” Jackie clapped your hand in his own, then spun you around and shoved you in the direction of the court. “Now go and kick some ass. Drinks on you at the Afterlife to celebrate your victory, aye?”

Rounds of both cheers and taunts followed you as you walked onto the court to meet the fixer and your competition. Upon facing your opponent, you found your neck craning up. And up. And still up. Decard was fitted with an entire body of chrome and tech, more cyber than human in every sense of the word. Nearly seven feet tall. Fists of collapsable nanotech. Cybernetic eyes pixelated red that made his pupils look as though they were bleeding from the inside out. You’d be lying if you told yourself he didn’t intimidate you to the point that if you weren’t being watched by hundreds of eyes, you’d probably have pissed yourself just a little bit.

“Alright, people,” said the fixer as he tallied up a number of bets. A quick glance at the pad in his hand told you that the onlookers’ faith lay more at Decard’s steel-toed feet than yours. “Please don’t turn this into a crime scene. I’m already on a watchlist for these kinds of things, so let’s keep this quick and clean. Hopefully I don’t have to tell you both that no cybernetic advancements are allowed. Gorilla arms, thermal knuckles, mantis blades, the whole shebang. No killing - perioud. ‘Kay?”

“Sure,” you said.

Decard growled from low in his throat.

Once the fixer had left the court and motioned for the pair of you to get ready, you took a moment to assess your opponent. As you dug your toes into the dirty tarmac, you looked him over. His head, of course, was an option, throat exposed over the collar of his tank top. But you doubted you’d have much time to grab at it, even if you got past those mechanical arms of his. You were scrambling to find a weak spot, to find some way this didn’t end in you limping away with a broken arm and a shattered ego, when your gaze shifted slightly behind him and into the crowd after catching a subtle glare of glass.

Fuck - he’d shown up. There he was, standing with crossed arms and a wide stance amongst the young onlookers streaming on their phones and squealing with excitement. Viktor met your eyes across the distance.

Then an earth-shaking, rib-crushing blow landed to your sternum, sending you tumbling over yourself in a heap of flailing limbs to the feet of the crowd. Pain like thunder blossoming violently across the sky expanded from your chest where Decard struck you, but you weren’t given much time to process what had just happened before the crowd was pulling you to your feet and pushing you back onto the court.

You had barely regained your breath before Decard came charging at you, steel teeth bared like some kind of animal as he barreled in your direction. Turning on your heel, you just barely managed to miss him - then took a running leap up onto his back and sat yourself on his hulking shoulders. The crowd erupted in surprise. Clenching your jaw and fighting with everything you had to stay on top of him while he bucked and pulled at your legs with a grip that would surely leave bruises in their wake, you locked an arm around his neck and began to squeeze. It wouldn’t take more than maybe twenty seconds for him to start getting lightheaded, even with all those implants. Maybe fifteen if you were lucky.

But it turned out you weren’t lucky. Very, very, very unlucky, in fact.

Decard backed up across the court as you tried to choke him out, heading straight for the rusted old hoop on a metal pole that creaked when a breeze blew it the wrong way. With a great roar and a heave, he slammed you back into the pole. Howling, searing, thundering pain overtook you, spreading from your spine to your shoulder blades to your hips, all throughout every nerve ending and fiber inside of you. Your vision whited out for just a moment as you slipped off the man’s shoulders and dropped to the warm tarmac. Goddammit, that hurt. That hurt like a bitch. That hurt like your vertebrae had cracked and one wrong move would put you six feet under.

With a low groan that you felt echoing in your very bones, you slowly propped yourself up on an elbow. You coughed and spat out a bit of saliva mixed with blood that pooled from where you’d bitten your tongue after being slammed into the pole. You knew after a blow like that you wouldn't be able to finish. As much as you fucking hated it, you were going to have to forfeit. All those cameras on you, all those eyes and bets… all fucking wasted.

And Viktor… fuck, he wouldn’t ever let you hear the end of this. If he spoke to you again outside of emergency clinic visits and checkups.

Sucking in a shallow breath, you stretched out a hand and patted the ground once, twice, three times. Those who saw it groaned at the fight having been so short. Eddies were being passed around, deposited into accounts as you began to make your way to your feet to slink off the court with your tail between your legs. But you didn’t quite make it.

Before you could find your footing, Decard’s large cybernetic hand snatched up the vulnerable skin of your throat and lifted you off the court into the air. Panic flooded your systems as your eyes widened and you gasped, trying to pull in air around the blockage on your neck. A few people cheered, thinking the fight was still on. No matter how much you kicked and flailed, they didn’t seem to get the hint that you had forfeited. You didn’t want to fight anymore.

They said you don’t always get what you want.

“Some shitshow for a merc I’ve heard so much fuss about,” Decard said, just inches from your face as he lifted you closer to him. Up close, you were able to see his cybernetic gaze flashing back and forth between your suddenly terrified eyes. “I was hoping I’d get a run for my money.”

You gasped around his iron-knuckled grip, uselessly kicking your feet against his chest plates. “M’done!” you wheezed out, listening to your heart pound wildly in your ears. “Y’win! Let me go!”

Decard grinned a sickening smile and brought his lips to the shell of your ear, so close you swore you felt his tongue brush against your lobe. “Come on and show me what you’re really made of, mercenary.” Then he turned and threw you across the court, sending you sprawling over yourself for the second time that evening. Another roar went up from the crowd as the cameras began filming again and new bets were placed.

Vision hazy and your spine screaming in protest, you scrambled out of the way just in time to miss Decard’s boot cracking the concrete where you just lay half a moment ago. You weren’t lucky enough to evade his next blow, a backhand that had you careening to the ground once more. Smack after punch, blow after kick, you were slowly losing the ability to raise your arms to even cover your face as he followed your pathetic little parade around the court.

The crowd seemed to be loving your beatdown. They cheered for more, for you to just give up, not knowing that you already had.

Upon coming to rest on your aching back from a roundhouse that had knocked you off your feet, you tilted your bloodied and bruised face to catch a glimpse of two figures arguing violently with the fixer who organized the whole event. Through the blur twinging the edges of your vision, you recognized Viktor and Jackie practically screaming at the man, gesturing wildly back and forth between you and the man approaching to possibly finish you off. Without your permission, your vision screen kicked in to read their lips and translate what they were saying.

“He’s fuckin’ killing her, idiota!” Jackie said and raised a hand to your form cowering on the ground.

“She tapped out fair and square,” snarled Viktor and poked a mechanical finger in the fixer’s chest. “Call it off before it goes any further.”

The fixer raised his hands in defense, shrugging a shoulder to prove his point. “Listen, chooms, just because you lost your bets doesn’t mean you’ve got to take it up with me.”

“She forfeited!” Viktor said. “Everyone with their eyes in their head saw her call for mercy.”

The fixer grinned sadistically. “I didn’t see anything.”

Snapping back to the court, you raised your gaze to the tall, sinewy mass of a man who towered over you with a heaving chest and a sick emotion of satisfaction sitting upon his stupid fat lips. For the second time, he raised you into the air by your throat and held you up like a trophy for all to see. You didn’t have the energy to fight back this time, couldn’t even if you thought it would do something. You simply gasped for air and gripped his forearm, hoping you’d black out sooner than later so you wouldn’t have to keep enduring this torture.

“Too bad no one’s going to remember your name,” Decard said to you over the noises of the onlookers. “V, was it?”

Through the blood spilling over your lips and the ache in every damn inch of your body, you snarled and spat, “Go fuck yourself.”

“Oh, I will,” he replied. “To the image of you begging for mercy like a fucking dog.”

The words had barely escaped his lips when a miracle graced the old basketball court. A deafening gunshot like a firecracker went off just feet from your ear and an instant later, you were dropped from being suspended in the air. Forcing yourself to look up from the dirt digging into your cheek, you watched as Viktor, now standing on the court before a kneeling Decard as he screamed and cradled the blown-apart junction of his knee, leveled his handgun with his opposite shoulder.

“Don’t bother showing your face to any ripper in this fucking city,” Viktor warned, then cracked off another bullet into Decard’s shoulder. The man howled over the sounds of the crowd stampeding for their vehicles and the streets, then collapsed in on himself. “They won’t have any mercy on you.”

It was the last thing you saw before you rolled onto your side and vomited, allowing yourself to fall into that everlasting darkness behind your eyelids.

The first thing that hit you when your senses returned was the faint smell of cleaning alcohol, the kind that docs used to sterilize equipment before they dug deep into your chest. The second thing was the familiar sound of a television playing the sounds of a boxing match; the ringing of the bell and the commentator’s voice would have lulled you back to sleep, had it not been for the ache that thrummed like fire beneath your skin all across your body. From your toes to your scalp it hurt, pulling a low moan from the back of your throat.

Your brow scrunched, you opened your eyes and blinked a few times before recognizing the ceiling overhead as the same one you had glared at while fighting with Viktor two days ago. You were in his clinic, propped up on the operating chair with an IV stuck in your arm and bandages wrapped around your torso. Your spine bitched at you as you sat up and swept your gaze across the clinic. Viktor was nowhere to be found.

Fuck, you wanted to go home. Go home and take the longest nap in the history of time. How long had it been since the fight - since you got your ass almost literally handed to you on the internet for thousands of people to see? Your vision screen told you it had been almost twelve hours.

With a grunt, you carefully pulled the IV from your arm and swung your legs over the side of the chair - only to crumple to the floor the moment you tried to stand on your own two feet. Just a few seconds later, you heard the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs, and you prayed it would be anyone except your doc. You couldn’t face him, not after he had to save your ass after telling you not to fight. Hell, you almost wished it would be Decard coming to finish you off.

But you recognized the bottoms of the shoes rushing toward you as Viktor’s, and you could do nothing but whimper and groan as he gingerly lifted you off the ground and back onto the chair.

“Jesus, kid,” he said as he carefully stuck the IV back into your skin. “Only just came to and you’re already trying to walk out like nothing happened.”

You said nothing as he sat back on his rolling stool beside you and brought up your vitals on his tablet. You couldn’t bare the thought of looking into those eyes of his as he chastised you for being so fucking stupid, for not heeding his advice. He probably thought you were an idiot, a naive kid so blinded by chasing glory she didn’t realize she was running straight into the sun.

But it seemed that Viktor didn’t get the this-is-supposed-to-be-awkward memo. “Hate to say it,” he said as he scrolled through his device, “but you had a close call, kid. Popped a vertebra out of place in your spine, fractured four of your ribs, dislocated a finger or two… I could go on, but I’d like to save time where I can. In other words, I’ve never had a patient come in quite as fucked up as you.”

“Gee, thanks.” You exhaled a painful breath, unable to push down the bubble forming in the bottom of your throat. Just when you thought you’d be able to ignore it, it ruptured. “Why don’t you just tell me off for being so stupid and send Misty to take me home?”

Viktor didn’t look at you. And that made you all the more furious. “I’m not doing this again, V,” he said and rolled away to deposit his tablet on his workbench. “Shut up and take a rest from it, will you? You’re fogging up the place with that hot head of yours.”

“In case you forgot,” you shot back, struggling to sit up straight in the curved operation chair, “you’re the one who started this shit. So don’t you try and pin it on me.”

He stood and remained there on his feet for a moment, hands placed firmly on his hips and nodding his head with pursed lips - like he was preparing himself to have this same spat again. A pang of guilt shot through you, but you beat it back.

“You know what?” he said and finally looked at you through his glasses. He threw out a hand and let it smack against his thigh. “Fine. I did start this. I’ll own that. But I only started it because - and this may come as a surprise to that thick skull of yours - but I actually care about you, kid. I do really give a shit if some shady bastard you decide to throw hands with over a few eddies manages to get the better of you and leave you bleeding out in a dumpster on the wrong side of Pacifica.” He ran his good hand through his hair - and over his temples, which were just beginning to show through his dark tresses with a few streaks of gray - and began to tread closer. “Maybe what we’ve got between us is a fun way to kick off a bit of stress for you, and I’ll keep myself in check if it is, but goddammit, V, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if you got yourself gutted in a fucking streetfight!”

You realized he had gotten closer to your chair and raised his voice only when you flinched at his sudden outburst. He seemed to understand, too, just how close he had come, because he at once stood straight again and began to back off.

You reached out your hand and grabbed his wrist. “It’s not,” you found yourself whispering when he glanced at you over the rims of his glasses. You swallowed thick and forced the words up and out. “Just… just some outlet. I… I love you, Vik.” A wave of tears threatened to overtake your vision, turn your eyes watery and your voice wavering. “I know it doesn’t really seem like it a lot of the time, but I promise I do.”

There were a long, silent few moments in which neither of you moved. Neither of you spoke. You squeezed your eyes together, suddenly afraid you had gone too far. That’s what you always did. You either went so far the line wasn’t even a line anymore, or you fell short enough that you didn’t even know there was one to begin with. You started to release his wrist, feeling as though you had fucked up yet another one of the good things in your life, when you felt his fingers angling your chin up so that he could press his lips to yours.

It was just like the millions of other times he had kissed you, when you were both in a rush to get your clothes off and climb on top of the other, and yet it was different all at the same time. This kiss was deep and genuine, relieved and thrilled. Sweet. Loving. He tasted like a faint twinge of whiskey, and when you grabbed his shirt collar to pull him closer and he grunted, a fan of breath swept across you like a ghosting whisper.

When you finally pulled apart, Viktor rested his forehead against yours and gently kissed the slope of your nose. “You better rest up quick, kid,” he murmured against your lips. “Because when you do, I’m going to spread those legs of yours and show you just how much I fucking love you.”

#cyberpunk #cyberpunk 2077 #cyberpunk 2077 video game #cyberpunk 2077 smut #cyberpunk v #cyberpunk viktor #cyberpunk 2077 x reader #cyberpunk 2077 x you #viktor vektor #viktor vektor x Reader #viktor vektor x you #cyberpunk viktor vektor

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bookshelf-dust · 1 year

Note

your fic about Billy finding that cat was so cute! It got me thinking about him as a cat guy though, and I wondered if you could write something where he goes to meet the reader’s cat for the first time, and he pretends he doesn’t care, but the cat ends up adoring him and he’s all soft and smiley? Thank you either way, I love your work 💞

cornelius

the aforementioned kitty fic

billy hargrove x gn!reader

word count: 775

warnings: swearing, fluff

a/n: hi baby!! thank you so much for your request. i am so so sorry that it took me a while to get to this! i’ve just been super busy lately and trying to catch up on loads of things. this is such a sweet sweet idea and i’m really glad you liked billy as a cat person. i hope you enjoy this!! <33

————

“I’m not meeting a cat named Cornelius.”

You roll your eyes, and Billy crosses his arms, smirking at you.

“Billy, Cornelius is a gentleman. You’ll get along, I swear it.” He drags a hand down his face, shaking his head at you. “And you have lots in common.”

“Oh yeah?” He snorts.

“Yeah. You’re both grumpy. But you also both like belly rubs and snuggles.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. You know what? Now I’m really not meeting your damn cat.”

You approach him, pulling his arms apart so that you can hold his hands. You stare up into Billy’s blue eyes, doing your best to bat your own lashes in imitation of the way he does the same to you.

“Stop.”

“Pretty please, Billy?” You kiss the back of his hand, maintaining eye contact with him.

You keep doing that, trailing a line of kisses up his arm, and only when he starts to develop goosebumps does he give in.

“Fine. Let’s get this over with.”

————

“Hi, baby!” You lean down, scratching an orange tabby cat behind the ears.

The cat squeaks at you, almost as if to say hi back. He skates between your legs, and stares upwards, big green eyes luring you in, not unlike those belonging to the boy standing behind you.

You pick your cat up. He’s purring up a storm in your arms.

“Billy, this is Cornelius. Cornelius, this is Billy.” You lean into the cat, lowering your voice to a whisper thought still looking at the boy. “The one I told you about.”

He chuckles. “You’ve been talking to this fluff ball about me?”

You kiss the top of said fluff ball’s head. “See? Told you he could be a pain in the ass,” you say, and your cat blinks up at you.

Billy rolls his eyes. His swipes his pinky finger over the cat’s forehead, right above the eyes. Cornelius’ purring ticks up, and he chases the touch after he’s lost it.

You set him down and move to sit on the couch. Billy follows you, and Cornelius is practically running after him. He hops up on the cushions the second Billy is settled, and suddenly there’s an orange weight in his lap, curled up and working on getting back to sleep.

“What is this shit?” Billy looks at you, but you just giggle.

“He likes you.”

Cornelius nudges Billy’s fingers with his nose, which is cold and wet. The boy fights the urge to smile at the gesture.

He strokes his hand once over the cat’s head, and let’s him be, hoping maybe he’ll just go sit with you soon.

You turn on the television, but you’re not paying attention to it. You’ve turned sideways to face Billy, starting to talk about your day like always. He told you once that he likes to hear every single thing you did. It’s soothing.

You notice halfway through your speech that Billy is continually petting Cornelius—scratching his cheeks, under his chin. The emanating purrs are louder than you’ve ever head them.

Without realizing it, you think, Billy has a soft smile resting on his face. He’s content, and you can tell.

“You’re liking this, aren’t you?”

Billy turns to face you, realizing he’s been caught looking happy—sweet, even.

“Maybe.”

“He likes the chin scratchies the best. And maybe when he’s awake he’ll let you rub his belly. He goes nuts for that stuff.”

Billy grins at you, fingers smoothing out the ruffles in the now slumbering cat’s fur.

Billy looks towards the other side of the room, spotting a bin full of strings attached to the ends of wooden sticks, little squishy toy balls, a stray fish made out of felt.

“All those his?” He asks you, smirking.

“They are. He’s greedy. Like someone else I know.”

Billy pinches the squish of your thigh, but there’s absolutely no malice in it.

“Shut up. I think I deserve a kiss for putting up with this shit. Gonna have to lint roll my jeans.”

“See? Greedy.”

You lean in anyways, careful of the sleeping kitty, and kiss him. It’s sweet, and Billy grins into it, albeit a little cockily. You pull away and he kisses you once, twice more before letting you relax again.

You watch Billy settle further into the couch, Cornelius completely setting up camp in his lap. He’s sprawled out at this point, body slipping between Billy’s legs, his front paws stretched up by the formers stomach.

“There’s a lint roller under the sink, by the way. Though he may keep you trapped there forever.”

Billy laughs softly. “He is pretty nice.”

“Told you so.”

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove x gn!reader #billy hargrove x gender neutral reader #billy hargrove fluff #billy hargrove comfort #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove ficlet #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy stranger things #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove one shot #billy stranger things fic #stranger things fic #savannah’s fics

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ykiwrite · 1 year

Text

golden rush

description: breaking down your and jenna's golden globe awards

words: ~1.4k

warnings: none?

Sound of black nails continuously colliding with the table underneath kept you on your toes.

Well, it did for the first ten minutes.

Now it's merely a background noise.

Jenna was devoted to the computer screen that was unhealthy-distance close to her face. Folded in the chair, she found strange comfort, with head on her knees and arms trapping them. She didn't move since the nominees broadcast began. With occasional remarks of "ha, i knew it", if the guess was correct.

"You already know you're gonna get it. So stop stressing out. We don't need next 'big thing' retiring early 'cause of stress." You said fully assured.

The obvious success of Jenna's shows, movies, even her appearance brought an enormous amount of spotlight. Less to you, more for her. Although sometimes, with the very few facts known to the public about you, it felt pressuring enough just being by her side. Let alone be in her position.

You can't really wrap your head around how she deals with thousand pair of eyes prying on her daily. Just like vultures circling above her head. It was fair she feels the way she does right now. Nervous, scared, debating if this career was worth it. You did voice the concern, of course. Her answer stayed the same each time. It went like;

"You know, i'm not alone. I got you so it's not that bad as you make it sound."

"It's whatever. That's not more important than you."

Maybe if she was less of a hopeless romantic it would be better. But who are you to argue if it keeps her steady? Not that you are against it either.

Still, she was going through a deadly combination of overthinking and overanalyzing. Knowing well how 'Wednesday' skyrocketed, she was a guaranteed nominee for Golden Globe. It appears only you saw it that way. Fully carefree while she was timidly cracking her fingers.

"It's starting, come here." She rushed you to your feet.

Taking a stand behind her slouched form, you wrapped your arms over the shoulders. Giving her excited shake, you said " You are gonna do it. I know it."

"Why are you so sure?" She asked, turning her head to give you a wondering stare.

"I called headquarters. It's all set for your win." Laughingly, you admit the lie.

"Yeah, shut up."

If anyone were to enter your apartment right now, they would do immediate 180. First thing to encounter would be two people in the middle of the room in complete darkness, except the screen.

All ears were on the presenter's voice. Time was closing in. The sacred envelope in his hands to be unwrapped will determine the rest. By how unusually still she became, it felt like hugging a lifeless body.

You closely watched the host preparing for reveal as you angled your face near her ear. Ready to match your own voice with one coming out of speaker. "And the nominees for the category of The best actress in a television series are..."

"Jean Smart"

She sighed with a trace of regret. Her hand lost the grip on you. On the contrary, you weren't discouraged.

"Our next nominee on the list is..."

Aligning your breath, like you knew from beforehand, you whispered "Jenna Ortega". Clearly matching with the presenter, Jenna wasn't sure whose voice she heard until scenes from her own roles were shown. Signifying it was truly her.

Backing up a few steps, you opened your arms and claimed "I told you!"

Jenna was peeking at you through fingers covering her face. A smile she couldn't contain was passing the barrier. It was worth it in the end.

Coming back to where you left, inviting her into an embrace with sheer care. "I'm so proud but you already know that." You refreshed her memory and linked your foreheads together. She had her eyes closed so she had no knowledge of you secretly admiring her.

A romantic moment was cut short by the sound of her phone going off. "You should answer." Hesitant to pull away but thinking of how many people are currently wishing their congrats. You gave her a nudge towards the table.

"I should?" she asked teasingly. Moving away from you, she grabbed her phone and put it on silent. Not bothered with replying. Lastly, exiting the broadcast.

With folded hands, you watched her pace around in overjoyed manner. "First, we will celebrate. Then, you know what we're gonna do?" She asked pointing a finger at you.

Shaking your head instead of saying no, as expected she provided the answer. "We are on a hunt for your red carpet looks."

Not wise enough about what to say right now so you muttered out a confused "Why?"

"You're my date for the red carpet," Jenna told nonchalantly. Making her way over to the kitchen on a mission to grab a drink.

"Oh. No. There's no way i can go Jenna." You pointed at yourself, "I'm not famous. Besides, i can be on the sideline. Cheering on like i usually do on these events."

Half of her face blocked by the fridge door, she raised her voice so you'll be able to hear. "I won't force you but just know i really, really want you to be there in front lines with me."

Slightly taken aback by her statement, it made you weigh out options. How awful could it be? You know Jenna consistently tries to keep you out of the eyes of the media. Maybe you could thank her by being there. However, it's naturally impossible to stay unknown forever. Also, it's her first time on Golden Globe. Your arrival would break the internet definitely.

"I don't know. I mean, those paparazzi, the press. You know how they are the best. They will eat me alive." Letting your worries get the best of you.

"No, no, no." Handing you a wine glass that landed with a quick kiss on the head. "Don't go there. When was it ever important what they think?" she questioned with a heartfelt tone.

Sitting down she pulled the chair closer to you. With her legs crossing she persisted, "I just think we would kill it. Imagine the headlines," as she used her hand to point out in the air, "top ten couples right now."

Rolling your eyes you pushed her backwards. Realistically saying "Mhm, and the next thing you know they break up month after."

Pouring a wine, she gave you a side eye. "Well, if you're serious about not going i'll still have to take someone with me. Emma probably."

She knew what she was doing to well.

With a click of tongue, you gave in. "What's the carpet theme?"

Stepping out of the obscure dimness and privacy of the black fancy car wasn't something you're accustomed to. Shielding your view from the sun and brightness caused by this event. It was overwhelming. Right, no idea how she deals with this regularly.

You'd much rather watch the livestream from the serenity of your home. No need for the first hand experience but it is what it is.

Grabbing Jenna by the hand so you can secretly confess before all the high-end equipment and lunatic lip readers are on you.

"I'm not made for this Jenna."

Beaming at the sight of you, she fixed accidental wrinkles of the dress. "Me neither but we'll be fine. If it gets too much we'll step aside like i promised."

The lady led you down the arranged route that was getting more frantic with each step. Cameras were piling up just like people, staff, and press did.

Jenna's name repeatedly called over was more prominent now that you're closer to the center. Here and there you could point out your own.

"Wait, hold on." Her voice was barely registered by you thanks to shutters setting off. She reached for you to let an offer out there.

"Since we talked about edits you watch nonstop, you know what we could do?"

The distracting sounds and cheers grew stronger which added to the thrill.

"You would never do that Jenna." Thinking she's brought up the plan you made while you were drunk at home just to get a kick out of you.

She did to your surprise. The brief action of drawing you in for a kiss in front of the mass suppressed everything that made you upset.

A lover's smile spread from left to right made the room spiral into madness.

"We really did it."

"I won't let them get used to this, don't worry. I got you," she pledged connecting your arms as one.

You were, without a doubt, a topic of the day.

notes: listen there was this lovely heavenly idea but did i write it out good? not really, this looked 10x better in my head but if u still read it i owe you 🖤💌

*kept writing golden globus instead of globe, i hope i fixed all of it

#jenna ortega imagine #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #this is officially my downfall im retiring/hj #whoever prayed for it its working

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nakajisaeko · 1 year

Text

Monster Headcanons ~ If They Were Sick Pt. 1

No one is really interested in this series, but I just had a scenario come to mind...what if the characters were sick? I will say I was inspired by most headcanons on here, & there is a specific one that I will add on the end because of writing space. Because I think its a big finale~ This is also not unrealistic, but some may be, so just point it out. Anyways, begin~

🩺 Kenzo Tenma:

He really liked to eat & drink your rice soup & tea. He even joked that he would deliberately become sick just to eat it, it was that good.

He loved when you played with his hair as he dozed off onto your lap while watching movies. It was his most favorite thing that you did when he was sick.

He likes it when you give him small kisses on his forehead or cheek, he even said they have a "magic touch".

If the TV wasn't working or he wasn't in the mood for movies, he liked when the radio played. & when a song came on, you would hum to it & it just made him fall asleep easier. He really loved your voice.

He likes the massages you give him on his hands, since he is a doctor & he is always using his hands. They felt so sore, so he really loved it when you gave him those.

But what he really adored is when you tried to make him laugh with your corny jokes or sarcastic comments. A side you showed that made him fall in love with you when you first met.

📖 Johan Liebert:

It shouldn't be a surprise that he doesn't eat as much. But if you begged him to just eat at least one bite of the butter drenched toast, he would. & not because he was annoyed by your enthusiasm, but because it did really look tasty. Most of the time though, he either doesn't fill himself up or he would just drink the tea you made.

Since he isn't a fan of touch, although he didn't seem bothered by it at points, he did allow you to give him head massages. & shockingly, he actually fell asleep on you.

Hugs & nothing more are the only thing he really likes from you. Plus, he doesn't want to make you sick. But he promised when he got better, perhaps just one cheek peck would be okay. Either then that, hugs are really the deal.

Johan doesn't really like television & the radio, so reading would be the best choice. Sometimes he would read with you or he would ask you to read to him. The second part is mainly what he wants. He really adores your voice.

Johan, again, is not fond of physical contact, so it would be kind of hard to give him a massage. But if he did want one at some point, giving him a back rub wouldn't hurt, would it? (by the way, with his clothes on >.<)

Really the only thing he likes though, that you do when he is sick, is just giving him words of affection. It not only makes him feel good, but also makes him smile brighter.

🌸 Nina Fortner

Nina would accept anything you would give her. Even though she's lost her taste & is disappointed she can't enjoy your meals, she will just smile big & wide because she's grateful that you're even cooking for her. Oh yeah, she likes when you feed her. ;3

Nina loves your head pats, but she tries her best not to fall asleep because she really wants to talk to you all day. But sometime later, it would be her giving you the head pats. XD

Nina adores your warm kisses, but she is sometimes worried that she would make you sick, so she tries to avoid them as much as possible just to protect you. She prefers cuddles around this time until she gets better. Then, she will kiss your face a bunch of times with a big smile!

Movies are Nina's favorite! She would watch them nonstop while she either played with your hair or you played with hers. You would even have to stop her from eating snacks she wasn't supposed to eat until after she was done being ill. But she'd just brush it off & say she was just "fine". Yeah...you had to clean up after her after that...

Belly rubs are a great deal for her. After a stomach ache, she would love tummy massages to ease her pain. She would giggle a lot if it tickled. "You're bringing the old me back, Y/N!" & she would just not stop laughing.

But what Nina really loved the most was when you came up with many ideas for activities for her to do if she was bored. & one of them was when you guys had a PvP battle in board games. She would win endlessly. XD

I will publish the other part some time, but I hope you liked these. I decided to use the same six scenarios for each character & will likely do the same for others, but will change up the scenarios a bit. So sorry if it was repeating the same things. ^///^

I was inspired by @malware-180 with her fic & a few of their others. She's an amazing writer & you should check out her stories! <3

& I hope you didn't mind if I incorporated some ideas! :D

#monsteranime #xreader #johan liebert x reader #nina fortner #nina fortner x reader #johan liebert #kenzo tenma x reader #kenzo tenma #monster headcanons #nina fortner headcanons #kenzo tenma headcanons #anime headcanons #headcanons #sickfic #sickheadcanons

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mikeandikeschmidt · 7 months

Text

movie!FNAF Incorrect Quotes: Part 2

Happy Thanksgiving!

WILLIAM: The first step to every successful murder is to have fun and be yourself.

•••

VANESSA: Avenge my death

MIKE: But you're not dying...

VANESSA: AVENGE ME!

•••

VANESSA, over the phone: Do you see the blue wire?

MIKE: Yeah? *reaches for it*

VANESSA: Don't touch it

MIKE, yanking his hand back: Start with, 'don't'!

•••

MIKE: I want to sit in a comfortable chair, watch television, and go to sleep at a reasonable hour.

•••

MIKE, opening a Capri Sun: Guess I'll drink my sorrows away.

•••

MIKE: Okay Google, how do I get revenge on those who have forsaken me?

Google: The best revenge is letting go and living well.

MIKE:

MIKE: Bing, how do I get–

•••

MIKE: Kill me now

ABBY: Sorry, no can do. I need your help with my homework.

•••

WILLIAM: I'm never donating blood again! The second you walk in, it's just one invasive question after another!

WILLIAM: "Where'd you get the blood?" and, "Why is it in a bucket?"

•••

MIKE: I have to admit something to you guys...I slept in jeans last night

CHICA: Mr. Cupcake, kick him out of here

•••

VANESSA, watching Mike doing upper-body exercises: He's been going at it for a while. I wonder where he finds the motivation

MIKE, under his breath: I'm going to get so good at hugging my baby sister

•••

ABBY: Then what are you saying? Find new friends?

MIKE: I'm not saying find new friends, I'm...

MIKE: Yes, I am. Find new friends.

•••

VANESSA: *Trying to sneak past her dad*

WILLIAM: Don't even think about it

VANESSA: How'd you know?

WILLIAM: I'm your father. I know everything. Now, where have you been?

VANESSA: I thought you knew everything.

[if this was the movie, this would be the part she got choked]

•••

MIKE: Shh! Did everybody hear that? Do you know what that sound was?

ABBY: What?

MIKE: That was the sound of my patience shattering into a billion little pieces.

•••

MIKE: What doesn't kill you, gives you a lot of unhealthy coping mechanisms and a really dark sense of humor.

•••

VANESSA: THE FLOOR IS LAVA!

ABBY: *helps Mike onto the table*

GOLDEN FREDDY: *kicks Mike off the table*

VANESSA: As you can see, there are two types of kids.

•••

GOLDEN FREDDY, narrating: And that's when they became horribly lost.

ABBY: Are we lost?

MIKE: No!

GOLDEN FREDDY: He lied.

MIKE: Stop it!

•••

VANESSA: Esto es tu culpa.

MIKE: *sighs* I know, I know!

ABBY: Wait, you speak Spanish?

MIKE: I know the phrase 'this is your fault' in every language spoken to me.

•••

MIKE: It's so hard to be a single mom when she’s not your biological daughter and are an adult man.

•••

[After building the infamous fort]

ABBY: It's moments like these that I'll never forget

MIKE: With enough therapy, hopefully, someday I will

•••

ABBY: Love is dead and never existed. All you did was betray me as I lay sick and festering.

GOLDEN FREDDY: Abby, what's wrong? Are you okay??

ABBY: Mike stole my garlic bread

•••

VANESSA, helping Mike after he got knocked unconscious: Aww, you poor thing

MIKE, completely out of it: Don't bring my finances into this

•••

VANESSA: Do you ever worry you'll regret the things you're doing now, in the future?

MIKE: No, I just regret everything instantly

•••

MIKE: I need caffeine.

ABBY: Doesn't it give you anxiety?

MIKE: Yes. But it also gives me energy. So I can feel anxious longer.

•••

MIKE: Where's my sister?

GOLDEN FREDDY: Don't worry about Abby

MIKE: Oh, I'm sorry, have you met me?

•••

ABBY: I cannot stand her.

GOLDEN FREDDY: Me too.

ABBY: You've no idea who I'm talking about.

GOLDEN FREDDY: Solidarity, sister.

•••

ABBY: Let's do something scary!

MIKE: We could go to bed early and be alone with our thoughts.

•••

VANESSA: What could be giving you anxiety?

MIKE: Um, let's see...Every aspect of my life

•••

MIKE: You think that disapproving glare works on me after after all the times I've seen it?

•••

ABBY: Please? For me?

MIKE: Don't do that. You think every time you say "Please? For me?" I'll do whatever you want, well, not this time.

ABBY: Please? For me?

MIKE: Okay.

•••

WILLIAM: Tell me what I want to know and I'll burn your house to the ground.

MIKE: Um, don’t you mean 'or'?

WILLIAM: Fine. Tell me what I want to know OR I'll burn your house to the ground.

ABBY: Well, which is it? That seems like a pretty crucial conjunction.

•••

MIKE: Wait a minute! We don't go TOWARDS the scary sound!

ABBY: Yeah, we do. We always do.

MIKE: I really hate that about us

•••

WILLIAM: I got bitten on my walk today by a Doberman

VANESSA: Oh no! Imagine if that had been a small child

WILLIAM: I'm pretty sure I could fight off a small child...

•••

MIKE: Quick question; how does someone relax? I'd like to try it

MIKE:

MIKE: I still need answers, aha

VANESSA: You okay there, buddy?

MIKE: Nope

•••

MIKE: Hey, can you keep a secret?

VANESSA: Do you know anything about my life?

MIKE: Good point.

•••

MIKE: Did you know that cutting out caffeine from your diet can help eliminate over 60%...of your will to live?

•••

MIKE, dumping out a shopping bag full of Lunchables onto the table: Tonight, Abby, we feast.

•••

MIKE: Help! I'm drowning!

VANESSA: Calm down. We're only in five feet of water!

MIKE: NOT ALL OF US ARE TALL!

•••

MIKE: With great power comes great need to take a nap. Wake me up later.

•••

WILLIAM: I feel like the young are out to get me.

•••

MIKE: If you don't pay my bills, I don't want your two cents.

•••

VANESSA: Do you cook?

MIKE: Yeah, I made a cake once.

ABBY: Yeah, it was good!

MIKE: Really?

ABBY: Don't make me lie twice, Mike

•••

ABBY: I love you guys, you're the best thing that's happened to me.

GOLDEN FREDDY: We're the best thing that's ever happened to you?

ABBY: Yes.

GOLDEN FREDDY: I'm starting to feel a little sorry for you.

•••

ABBY: Remember that time you dared me to lick that swing set?

MIKE: No. You said, "Wouldn't it be funny if I licked the swing?"

And I said, "Abby, don't lick the swing set." Then you replied, "Don't tell me what to do." And you licked the swing set.

•••

MIKE: This could work. All we need now is a bad cop.

VANESSA: I can do bad cop.

MIKE: I've only seen you do mildly irritated cop.

•••

ABBY: Did you lose your job because of me?

MIKE: Nah. The manager's a vampire and he wanted me to join his legion of the undead.

ABBY, under her breath: I knew it

•••

ABBY: In my defense, I was left unsupervised

VANESSA: Wasn’t Mike with you?

MIKE: In my defense, I was also left unsupervised

•••

[At Mike’s funeral]

WILLIAM, as Steve Raglan: *places his hand on Mike’s casket and sobs* How could you do this to me? We are so understaffed.

•••

VANESSA: You fainted. Do you remember anything?

MIKE: Only the ambulance ride

VANESSA: There wasn’t an ambulance. I drove you

MIKE: But I heard a siren?

VANESSA: That was Abby

ABBY: Sorry, I got scared

•••

VANESSA: Hey, guys, what are you watching?

ABBY: Kitten football. It came on and I’m invested. I think Mike’s getting into it too—Aww look. Snuggles fell asleep!

MIKE: SNUGGLES WAKE UP AND GET YOUR HEAD IN THE GAME!

VANESSA:

ABBY: I think we’re invested in the game for different reasons

•••

ABBY: A party is a celebration of a life, bringing people together to let the guest of honor know how much they're loved. Mike has done so much for us. This is our chance to do something for him.

VANESSA: By forcing him to have fun at a party that he doesn't want to be at?

ABBY: I knew you’d understand

•••

VANESSA: When we go out, I expect you to be on your best behavior

MIKE: That’s right. Listen to her, Abby

VANESSA: Mike, I was talking to you

••••

VANESSA: Where can I find this, “friend zone”? Because I need friends.

•••

ABBY: Do you guys have any healthy stress outlets?

MIKE: Screaming

WILLIAM: Murder

VANESSA: Manipulation

ABBY: Okay, screaming it is

•••

VANESSA: How are you feeling these days?

MIKE: Oh, much better now that I’m back in denial

•••

Movie!MIKE: Thirteen year old me would be both horrified and in awe of me

Game!MIKE: I'd punch thirteen year old me

#josh hutcherson #mike schmidt #mike schmidt fnaf #five nights at freddy's #fnaf #fnaf movie #mike and abby schmidt #fnaf incorrect quotes #incorrect fnaf quotes #incorrect quotes #funny stuff #i tried #happy thanksgiving

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troublesh00terfaery · 1 year

Text

BELOW 18 PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT. THIS WORK IS NSFW! KEEP OUT!

[THIS WORK IS PURELY FICTION]

[One shot]

[AFAB! Reader x Toji]

Word count: 2094 words.

Synopsis: Well, comfort can mean a lot of things.

Tags: AFAB! Reader, Breeding, Sloppy sex (yeah, fuck it), cheating, voyerism, exhibitionism, dicks dicks dicks, fuck this kinky sex, we're doing it raw guys

A/N: Yeah another unhinged smut of mine. Will be posting more. Follow this hashtag #troubleshOOterfaeryfics to be updated with my upcoming fics! Hashtag is found at the hastags corner, just below after reading this fic. Also if you want to be tagged on my next upcoming works please do leave a comment.

The moral right of the author has been asserted. All rights reserved. This story is published subject to the condition that it shall not be reproduced, remodified, or retransmitted in whole or in part, in any manner.

"Coming back to the same usual place, huh?" Toji chuckled leaning on his door frame from the inside as he watched your figure. Like a little lost lamb, he eyed you from head to toe. "Whatcha doin here?"

You furrowed your brows in frustration and looked up to him and matched his gaze. "Stop asking, I'm going in." Barging in his small apartment you quickly took off your boots and placed it just right near his boring ass slippers.

"You and your little boyfriend got problems?" He sat on the floor and placed a beer on the small table on the floor. One for him and one for you. You looked at the beer and shook you head to the side before reaching it out to open it.

You took a sip and sighed. "I'm cutting ties with you."

You didn't bother looking at him. You just sat there and took a sip, unsure of what his reactions were. Not that it bothered you... kind of.

Silence enveloped his small apartment. Just the ticking of his wall clock and the buzzing of his refrigerator. The silence rang your right ear making you squirm.

"Really? You sure can?"

"Yes."

"Yeah sure." He took a sip from his canned beer and turned his TV on. The cheering of the crowds coming the TV, the basketball playoffs has just started. His eyes fixated on the TV.

Of course, you were trying your best not to care. He was nonchalant and ignorant even from before and you knew it. He was passive and he didn't care. He only would start to care when it benefits him. So why would his answer bother you? That was already a good answer and all you had to do was leave.

"What? That's it?"

You couldn't keep your thoughts inside you, huh? Toji didn't bother looking at you as his eyes were far too busy looking at the television. He heard you but why would he care?

"Toji."

No response and you took matters on your hand by standing up and unplugging the TV. You stood by the TV and crossed your arms. Toji, on the other hand, lazily looked at you with jaw clenching and his palm dashing through this damp hair.

"You're not taking me seriously."

"What part? You're too fucking nosy."

"I'm being serious here!" You started to raise your voice, frustrated at how his replies were bland.

"You think I'm not?" A devilish grin formed on his scarred lips. He took another sip from his canned beer.

This annoyed you even more. His behavior showed that he wasn’t bothered at all. Not like you wanted him to care but your expectations failed you. At first you initially thought he wouldn’t like the idea considering that he would claim your pussy is the best and fucks you like there’s no tomorrow. But well, somehow it contradicted to your initial thinking.

“Please take me seriously.” You pleaded, slowly standing up and facing him.

Your little pleading parade made Toji chuckle as he stood up. He walked a few steps towards you, his height towering over you and making you seem small. He took the towel that was at his shoulder and threw it over the table with a devilish smile all over his lips, taunting you in some way.

“You never take me seriously and that’s something I do not like about you.” You turned your back and picked up your small bag. “I’m leavin—”

You hand about to twist the door knob when a calloused palm grabbed you by your nape and pushing your face on the door. Face and plump chest against the door, squeezed.

“You’re not leaving until we finish this closure you want, ya got that?” Toji’s other hand ran through your lower belly until it reached the apex of your thighs sending shivers down your spine. Skin sensitive from his ministration, he cupped your thigh and pushed the other leg farther from your other leg and his hand lowering your back by pushing your nape lower.

You whined from his actions and started to wriggle out from his grip when you felt his hardness from behind. He pushed his throbbing erection near your core, his other hand now on one side of your hip and pulled you closer to his bulge that formed in his grey sweatpants. He slowly started to grind this erection against your clothed pussy. You skirt looked sexy and cute on you he must admit, like a little bunny he would think, but he needed to feel you more.

“Fuck this cute skirt of yours.” He frustratedly tried to take it off but he wasn’t so sure how you even wore this skirt so he simply took the hemline and flipped it upwards, exposing your pantyhose and your underwear patched with your wetness. Upon seeing the view Toji immediately grinned and wasted no time ripping a hole near your clothed pussy.

“Toji! Goodness—" The ripping of the fabric made you bite your lower lips and then felt a surge of tingle when you felt his index finger skim through the patch of wetness, hitting the nub of your pussy. He teased you still, not being swayed by your soft whimpers and moans.

“Like it?” He teased which you responded with a shy nod. Your meek reactions made him even hard. “Fuck it hurts- you have no idea how much it hurts.”

You didn’t understand what he said as your head was already lightheaded from the heat. Not that it bothered you but you still wanted to know the context. Toji spat on his palm and started to lubricate his cockhead with his spit and a mixture of his precum. You were so needy and impatient you wriggled and pleaded him to put it in which he only chuckled and kept himself entertained with the parade your slutiness.

“Impatient are we?” he traced the thin lacy linen of your underwear just near your crotch area and revealed your puffed, dripping, and aching cunt. The sight of your cute little pussy made him hard that he was getting impatient with it too. It was enough to drive him to destroy and stuff your cute pussy with his big, fat, long, and thick cock. He aimed his cockhead and pushed slowly making him let out a guttural moan and throw his head back.

“Fuuuuck~!” He moaned and chuckled as he felt your walls welcome him with your wetness as if almost you were waiting to be fucked like a little slut again. You immediately felt yourself convulsing from the pleasure, your legs trembling and hips quivering when Toji entered. He didn’t waste any time yet he started to move in a small pace. So slow you felt his dick and every throb it made while he moved his hips until his tip hit your cervix and forced himself to burry deeper yet he would get disappointed and amused at the same time. He knows he was too big for you for him to take and he had to force-burry it in a fast pace but oh, he wanted to feel your pussy and he got time today.

“Fuck yeah~!" You whined, Toji pressing his dick further to your cervix making you lose your senses. Toji started to change his pace to a fast one as he felt your walls clamp unto his dick, not letting go. He knew you were going to cum anytime soon and he liked it.

“Gonna cum?”

You only responded with successions of nods.

He liked it so much that the hand around your nape lowered your upper torse and took a chunk grip on your ass before letting it rest on your waist, smashing his dick deeper and faster. Sloppy sounds coming from your moans and the slippery juices coming from your pussy ricocheted around his little apartment.

You literally forgot you were just at his door fucking and people could here you.

“Slow down-Ah~! People will here us!”

“Well,” Toji huffed “They’re gonna know I fuck good.” The way he whispered at your right ear lobe made you roll your eyes back and stick your tongue out. You were feeling too much you started to tremble again. Toji made a little chuckle as your moans got louder and pussy throbbing. Unbeknownst to you, Toji pulled out suddenly making you squirt all over his dick and creating a mess.

“Hoho—pretty girl tryna make a mess now?” He pushed his dick right inside of you again making you squirm, rough pace of pounding again until he pulled it out again making you squirt all over him again for the second time. The pleasure made you tremble again, calling and moaning out his name to do you more.

He was inside again and started to pound on you again when he heard a phone call. It was just on his pockets which pissed him off. He wasn’t in the mood to answer calls while fucking you. He kept his phone ringing, now his pace faster. His hands now both gripping on both side of your hips and teeth clashing to your shoulder, making himself work. He wanted to cum right inside of you as quickly as possible, the ringing annoyed him but he wanted to savor this pussy of yours.

A few more rough and fast pumps before he came inside your cute little pussy. Oh he didn’t pull out yet he made sure he wasn’t spilling any of his thick cum to waste. He carefully pulled out from your pussy and picked up the phone before pushing it in again, feeling your creamy walls.

A call coming from Satoru Gojo.

Toji purposely missed his first call forcing Gojo to call him again. He quickly picked up the call this time.

“Yo, what’s up Toji?” Gojo greeted

“What ’ya want?” Toji smirked.

“I’m quite bored right now ya know. Just got home coming from Kyoto. Just wanted to ask if your free to hangout with Nanami and Geto.” Gojo huffed “Heard Sukuna is also in town.”

To which Toji grinned. He immediately pressed the video call to which Gojo did as well. Toji immediately flipped the camera, now the lens showing your blown back. Toji was still hard and cum was dripping out from the sides of your cunt.

Gojo wasn’t new to times like this. Toji did this often time to boast he’d been fucking quite a few in the past. Gojo scoffed at the video yet he stood still when he heard a familiar moan. He knew this so well. He quickly looked at the obscene visual coming from the video. He knew this body and figure too well.

Toji chuckled as he steadied his camera before pulling out. He held his length and teased your entrance before gently slapping it at the fat of your ass.

“Heard you had a little fight with your girl?— hey look,” Toji guided you to kneel on the floor and held a tight grip on your head. Your mouth welcomed his tip and you looked up with your fucked out face, head full of dick, and sucked on his tip.

He groaned out as you started to stroke his cock and rested the side of your face unto his right thigh. Your hand playing your puffed pussy, soaked with his cum and your juices. Toji showed Gojo’s face while calling him.

“She wanted me to comfort her,” You kept stroking his dick while your half lidded eyes looked at Gojo. “She wanted to cut ties with me she said” He let out a devilish grin

“Sorry, Satoru~!” You kissed Toji’s tip followed with a hum, almost like you were trying to hard to be sincere but you were to fucked out. “Satoru ‘m sorry~” You sucked half Toji’s length, Toji’s palm aiding you by holding your hair that seems like a ponytail only with his palms tho. Toji angled his dick, his cockhead protruding from the side of your mouth forming a lump.

Gojo wasn’t so happy about what he saw yet one thing for sure: it made him hard. It was unhinged but why was it so hot.

He knew you were a little slut in the circle of friends, fucking each one of them.

He only grinned and heaved a sigh before huffing a breath. “Yeah, say sorry when I arrive there, okay?”

You continued to suck on Toji’s dick and left kisses on his tip which you replied a small ‘hm’ and a nod.

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the-great-empress · 9 days

Note

After seeing last post I have to agree. How did Crowley lost to lilith?

Crowley despite being called incompetent, managed to run (and maybe even create) magic school that is one of the famous ones in entire world. He also might not be the best in terms of providing roof for Yuu, but he didn't kicked them out. Instead offered job and later let them be student until they find way to get back home. We are talking about elite school here, there is set number of students. But Crowley made exeption for someone with no magic and no money, who landed in unfamiliar world. Yuu might not survive long without it.

Meanwhile Lilith's actions were reason for all bad things that happened to brothers. She took fruit and gave it to human to cure them. She knew it was not allowed and it will have consequences. And don't try to explain it by she was in love. Loving someone also means to let them go. Instead she tried to cheat death and hurt her family in process. She didn't took her punishment and didn't stoped brothers from starting rebelion. After they fell Lucifer sacrificed his freedom so she could have her selfish dream and lived few years as human. Then used her descendant to fix mess she left. Pink Diamond behavior. Michael was right to throw her into void.

Yeah…

To say that Crowley is truly worse than Lilith is going into the absurd, not to say the stupid, I want to think that they do it as a joke. How are you going to say that a person who is the reason for all misfortunes, especially yours, is it better than someone who is letting you stay for free while you look for a way to get home?

I agree that despite being called incompetent, he managed to keep NRC a great reputation, I mean Crowley sometimes behaves in a questionable way and ok, laughing at that is not bad, at least I like the satire, but the man knows how to do his job as a director, I omitted things from both Crowley and Lilith because he didn't want to extend my time and I was already going to get to work.

I'm the type of person who puts myself in the protagonist's shoes and the truth is...

I am glad that Yuu had met Crowley because if it were someone else or in another fixed place that he would be thrown out without hesitation or taken by the authorities for “trespassing” private property, from the beginning of the prologue I RISK the reputation of the prestigious NRC so that Yuu and later Grim will stay, again, Grim is a monster who caused a FIRE at the entrance ceremony and the mirror of darkness pointed out that Yuu was a “void” all of this IN FRONT of students, even Kalim came out with part of your robe burned, the scandal that could shake the news and Crowley would easily receive a lawsuit for allowing Grim to stay, but he made the decision to leave Grim and have him attend classes at Yuu's request as well as for FREE.

If I were Yuu and Crowley gave me free accommodation, even if it was Ramshackle, I would be eternally grateful, I would go ahead and offer to help him with anything he asked for without complaining, I would be ashamed if he didn’t, especially if he accepted that Grim stayed and let it pass all problems mainly caused by Grim and Yuu.

Others would not even give him rewards for doing the jobs he accepted in principle or they would look for excuses and there is Crowley, letting them play magifht ON OPEN TELEVISION, organizing a big banquet for them, giving him a phone to communicate with, giving him tickets so he can invite friends to the VDC which is a very important event so tickets won’t be cheap DAMN! HE TRUSTED HIM WITH THE GHOST CAMERA! YOU JUST NEED TO GIVE THEM THE KEYS TO THE ACADEMY! 🙄 HE TOOK THE TROUBLE ON THE FIRST NIGHT TO BRING HIM SOMETHING TO EAT! 🥺 AND THEY SAY CROWLEY IS WORSE THAN LILITH?!😡 WHAT’S WRONG WITH PEOPLE?!

Lilith for her part... SHE DESERVES TO BE THROWN INTO THE VOID!

Look, in the other publication I had planned to talk about Lilith also as a sister, but I was going to leave Lilith in a worse position, but whatever, let's talk about her also as a sister and angel FRIENDS! The more I go through the first season of the game, the more I am convinced that Lilith is the Antichrist or God made her defective and gave her a certain charm similar to Asmodeus but more powerful, because she got her way and yet, even the characters in the game They paint her as the victim or that she had a mistake. EXCUSE ME?! ARE WE TALKING ABOUT THE SAME ANGEL WHO KNOWING IT WAS TABOO TO GIVE THAT FRUIT TO A HUMAN, GAVE IT TO HIM ANYWAY?!?!? THE SAME ANGEL WHO KNEW THAT'S WHY THEY WOULD KILL HER?! THE SAME ANGEL WHO BET YOU KNEW HER BROTHERS WOULD RISE UP TO PROTECT HER?!

Many say that Lucifer was the one who started the war or that he would not last long and would rise. Well, I'm sorry but I don't buy that story! We are talking about the man who, if bowing his head meant that his brothers were safe, would bow his head without tiring, we are talking about the demon who swore loyalty to DIAVOLO and had his BALLS and PANTS on tight to hide Belphegor from DIAVOLO at the same time EARN THE HATE OF HIS BROTHER WILLING TO ACCEPT THAT HATE! WHEN IN REALITY SHE IS SAVEING HIM FROM THE PRINCE, if Lilith had not committed that CRIME Lucifer would not have reacted, Lucifer was the bullet and Lilith who pulled the trigger.

It was Lilith who started the war out of SELFISHNESS in committing TABOO and a WAR for a human, I wouldn't be surprised if the angels held a grudge against humans for that, and I say selfish because if she loved that human so much she had to let him go in peace I know that love makes one commit stupid things, but there are stupid things and then what he did. Didn't he think that they could also hunt and kill the human for agreeing to eat the fruit? In the end she got her way because she was able to have a happy life while her brothers were in a war, fell and were discriminated against even by demons.

Her soul stayed in the house of lamentations after recovering the memories of her past as an angel, she had millennia to manifest himself and solve the problems of her brothers, but instead she waited during those millennia pretending not to be hanging around the house. of lamentations until a descendant of hers appears, the one she chose to go to the Devildom, and the worst thing is that she manifests herself to only free Belphegor only to have her descendant die by STRANGULATION and revive her to demand that she save her brothers. 😡, it's obvious that he doesn't give a shit about Mc and just wants her to help her brothers. THAT'S THE KIND OF PERSON THEY SAY IS BETTER THAN CROWLEY?! Mc because she is good and an idiot pays attention only to see how she dies in Mammon's arms while Belphegor celebrates. How did Mc not suffer a fucking mental breakdown after that?!

Mc was saved because she shares blood with Lilith, but oh... how the brothers begin to treat her, especially Belphegor, being Mc at least, I begged Diavolo to get me out of that crazy house and if not he would stay away from the brothers, except Satan, for the rest of the stay. At no time did Lilith care about Mc or apologize for her, the only time she helped her was to free Belphegor and he would kill her.

Do you want to use the Lilith is dead card?! PERFECT! I can play that game too

WHB SOLOMON is better than Lilith

And it is only in its first appearance

What did it cost Lilith to say that? NOTHING

#obey me #whb #om #what in hell is bad #what in “hell” is bad?#vs #whb solomon #dire crowley #twst crowley #twst #obey me x twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #om lilith #yuu #om lucifer #om mc #whb mc

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stevethehairington · 1 year

Note

Hellooo if I'm not too late to the prompts party. My glittery dice humbly request 57 romantic Steddie

Iloveeverythingyouwriteokaybye 😳🫣 *hides under the carpet*

helllooooo!! omg you are SOOO not too late!!! your dice are FANTASTIC omg i love the glitter, and ohohoh let me tell you. they chose EXCELLENTLY, if i do say so myself.

this prompt was SO much fun to fill omg i had the best time writing it.

i want you to know my first thought for this prompt ("there is enough room for both of us") was to have steve and eddie having just finished watching titanic and somehow find a way to recreate the door and see if they both can fit on it LMAO

i went with this instead, because it was the second thing that popped into my head and it is a classic:

[read on ao3]

57. "there is enough room for both of us"

Since they’ve finished the renovations, the Byers-Hopper’s new farmhouse has quickly become the party’s number one hangout.

With a basement fit for running DnD campaigns out of, a yard spacious enough to chase each other for hours in, plenty of soft sofas and cushions for everyone to crash on around the television set, and a homey kitchen with a dining table big enough to seat them all, it’s perfect. Not to mention, Joyce has personally extended an open invitation to every single one of them; her home is their home and they are welcome anytime.

So, yeah, home base these days looks a lot like the rustic, cozy living room in the middle of that big, beautiful house.

Which is exactly where Steve finds himself tonight. The whole party has come together for one of their beloved movie nights, and there is no better place to do it than right there.

They’re on the third or maybe fourth film of the night, but Steve isn’t the only one that has lost count. The kids are all spread out and sprawled out across the floor, fast asleep where they’re squished together in one big puppy pile. Dustin, Will, and Lucas are so tangled that it’s hard to tell who’s limbs start and end where, and further down, Max uses Mike’s shin as a pillow. How that’s comfortable, Steve has no idea — the Wheeler’s are the boniest bunch of people he knows.

El is the only one of the kids not on the floor. Instead, she lies on the couch, curled up like a bug against Joyce’s side. Her head is in Joyce’s lap. and Joyce runs her fingers soothingly through El’s hair. She’s tucked up under Hopper’s arm, and he trails the tips of his fingers up and down her arm. Kisses her temple every so often.

It’s cute, they’re cute. Steve keeps stealing glances at them, wishing he could be the one cuddled up to someone like that.

Instead he’s just squished between Robin and Eddie on their couch. Robin lies to his right, mostly slumped onto Nancy, who sits to her right, but she’s kicked up her feet into Steve’s lap. She keeps wiggling her socked toes to catch his attention, then bounces her eyebrows up and down as she looks past him to where Eddie sits to Steve’s left.

Each time it happens Steve pinches her leg. That doesn’t deter her in the slightest, though. She just whispers to Nancy and the two of them giggle quietly together.

Steve tries to ignore it, and thankfully, he’s pretty successful at that. Beside him, Eddie keeps dipping his head towards Steve so he can whisper his string of running commentary about each of the movies they’ve watched. It ranges from interesting factoids about the film, to silly discrepancies and plot points that make no sense, to putting on a goofy voice and imitating the characters to make them say ridiculous things instead. Steve’s heart squeezes in his chest each time Eddie says something new.

The current movie has been on for a little over an hour now, but neither one of them have really been following along. Instead, they’ve been making things up to match the action unfolding onscreen. Intricate, over the top backstories for the main characters and all the side ones too; ridiculous, senseless motivations for every move they make; witty, snappy one liners to replace the cheesy dialogue that actually exists in the movie. It’s a good thing most of their company has retired for the night, otherwise they’d have been shushed right out of the room.

It isn’t too much longer before Nancy and Robin decide they’ve had enough for the night and bid the room adieu. They slip off down the hall towards the guest bedroom that they’re sharing, leaving the rest of the couch finally free. Neither Steve nor Eddie move to stretch out into the empty space, though. They stay pressed up against each other, the way they’ve been all night.

Eventually, Eddie yawns so wide that his jaw cracks.

“Alright,” he declares, a finality to his tone. He drops a hand to Steve’s knee, to give it a pat. “Time for me to turn in.”

His hand slips off of Steve’s knee, and he rises to his feet, stretching his arms up and out. The hem of his t-shirt rides up, and Steve has to bite down on his tongue.

He lets the residual warmth from Eddie’s touch pull him off of the couch too, almost like he’s chasing it. Chasing Eddie.

“Yeah, okay, me too,” Steve says, busying himself with folding the blanket he and Eddie had been sharing. He drapes it over the back of the couch and turns to say goodnight to Joyce and Hopper.

“Heading to sleep already?” Joyce asks, turning her attention to the two of them. “Your room’s down the hall on the right. Will said he dropped your bags in there earlier.”

“Thanks, Mrs. B-H,” Eddie says, throwing her a finger gun and a charming smile.

“Joyce, Eddie,” she reminds him, raising her eyebrows in that stern, motherly way. The soft smile set onto her own mouth softens it. Tells him that her exasperation is only fond.

Eddie ducks his head, chuckling. “Joyce,” he corrects.

“Thank you, Joyce,” Steve chimes in, not making the same mistake as Eddie. He flashes him a smug little grin, and swallows down his laugh when Eddie subtly sticks his middle finger out at him.

Hopper, of course, notices, and he just snorts gruffly, shaking his head in amusement.

“You two have a good night,” Steve tells them, straightening up.

“You too, sweetie,” Joyce replies. “And if you boys need anything you come find me, okay?”

They nod and relay their thanks once more before Steve gives a little wiggle of his fingers as a parting wave, then turns to shove at Eddie’s shoulders until he starts to walk towards the hallway.

“I’m going, I’m going!” Eddie insists, but he lets himself be manhandled anyway.

Their room is the last door on the right, just like Joyce told them.

Eddie pushes inside first, immediately flicking the lights on. He spots their bags in the corner and beelines straight for them.

Steve, on the other hand, freezes in the doorway.

Because, oh. Oh.

There’s only one bed.

Which — Steve doesn’t know why this surprises him. This isn’t a hotel. It’s a guest room at a friend’s house. Of course it’s not going to have two beds in one room. He doesn’t know why he was expecting that.

But it’s — it’s fine. This is cool. He can share a bed for the night. He’s shared lots of beds in his day. There’s nothing different about this time.

Except that there is because he doesn’t have to share with just anybody. He has to share with Eddie.

Eddie, who hasn’t even batted an eye at the bed situation. Eddie, who seems cool as a cucumber about it. Eddie, who—

Who’s already shucked his shirt off and has his thumbs hooked into his sweats, about to tug those off too, and jesus fucking christ, Steve can’t do this. He cannot do this.

He clears his throat. “You know, uh, I’m gonna go ask Joyce if there’s, like, a blow up mattress or something,” Steve says, jerking a thumb over his shoulder.

Without waiting for a response, he starts to turn. But Eddie catches his wrist, stopping him before he can even take a step.

Steve pointedly does not look down at Eddie’s bare legs and his too small boxers that have little gremlin heads all over. (And, jesus, how the fuck does he make gremlin boxers fucking work? It’s not fair. It’s not fair at all.)

Eddie’s brows quirks up. His teeth practically glint and his eyes sparkle as he asks, “Scared of my cooties, Harrington?”

And it’s not exactly like Steve can snark back with a funny story, but quite the opposite, actually. So he settles for twisting his arm out of Eddie’s grasp and laughing it off.

“Ha ha, you’re hilarious,” he deadpans. “Bed just looks small is all,” he adds with a shrug.

Eddie watches him for a moment, then makes a face. “Aw, come on, Stevie, there’s enough room for both of us.”

That didn’t work. Steve tries again.

“Well if you sleep at all like you walk—” he flings his arms around and kicks his feet out all loosey goosey with each step he takes — “then I’d rather save myself the trouble. I bruise like a peach, Munson. A peach!”

Eddie barks out a laugh, like he genuinely thinks that’s funny, then he sways forward, further into Steve’s space.

Steve tries to take a subtle step back, but he bumps right into the dresser, trapped.

“You’re resilient,” Eddie says, tilting his head like a curious puppy. “Besides, if that’s what you’re so worried about — don’t be.”

“Oh yeah? Why not?” Steve asks, not nearly as challenging as he’d like to be.

Eddie leans in closer, grin sharp. “‘Cause I’m a cuddler.”

Then he’s gone from Steve’s space, just like that, dancing across the room to pick his side of the bed.

And Steve? Steve is screwed.

He makes quick work of changing into his own pajamas — or of removing his own clothes, since he too had opted for just his good ‘ol briefs to keep his modesty during the night. He wishes he’d had the forethought to wear boxers at the very least. His tighty whitey’s leave him feeling too exposed.

Steve tries not to dwell on it, though. (Because dwelling on his underwear just makes him think of Eddie’s underwear, and that is the last thing he needs right before he slips into bed with him.)

Eddie’s already beneath the covers, rolled onto his side and fidgeting as he tries to get comfortable.

Steve approaches the empty half of the bed — the right side, his usual side. Part of him wonders if Eddie knew that or if it was just a lucky guess. The other part of him wonders if maybe the left side is just Eddie’s usual side. If that means that they just fit.

What the hell, Steve, get a fucking grip, he tells himself, shaking his head clear.

He takes a moment to collect himself — the steel himself, as he reaches for the lamp light. It’ll be easier to climb into bed with the lights out. If he can’t see Eddie, then Eddie can’t see him, and that means there’s less of a chance of somehow embarrassing himself.

“Come on in, the water’s fiiiiine,” Eddie sing-songs, smacking his hand down onto the empty space beside him.

Steve huffs out a laugh, then turns out the light.

The room plunges into darkness, but it’s not pitch black. There’s too much residual glow from the moonlight outside seeping in through the window blinds, but it’s dark enough that it isn’t so daunting as Steve crawls into bed and slips under the sheets.

He lies flat on his back, folds his hands over his belly button, and wiggles his shoulders a little to settle into the pillow.

“Goodnight, Eddie,” Steve says.

He doesn’t close his eyes, though. How can he? He’s hyper aware of Eddie beside him, not touching but close enough that Steve can feel the warmth radiating off of his skin. He’s breathing softly, but it’s loud enough that it echoes through Steve’s ears.

Eddie doesn’t say anything back at first. But Steve can feel his eyes on him.

Then, “That’s it? ‘Goodnight’,” he mimics, dropping his voice to sound like Steve’s.

He squirms closer, and suddenly his knee is against the side of Steve’s thigh, his toes brushing Steve’s shin. Steve’s heart rate spikes.

“That’s how you’re sleeping?” Eddie asks, full of judgment.

Steve frowns. “Yeah,” he replies, the duh very much implied. (Not that there’s any bit of truth to that answer. He hadn’t exactly planned on getting any sleep tonight. This is just the easiest position to control himself in, that’s all.)

“On your back?” Eddie questions.

“Yeah,” Steve repeats. “Goodnight.”

Eddie scoffs. “Jesus, no wonder you never get enough sleep. People who sleep on their backs are monsters,” he jokes.

Steve ignores him.

Eddie leans in close. Pokes his finger into Steve’s arm. “You’re a monster, Stevie,” he whispers.

Unsatisfied with the lack of response, Eddie continues too.

“This isn’t a coffin, y’know,” Eddie teases, flopping onto his back and crossing his arms in an X over his chest. He sticks his tongue out of the side of his mouth too, playing dead.

Steve continues to ignore him.

Eddie rolls back onto his side, facing Steve. Somehow, he’s even closer. “You can get comfortable,” he says.

“I am comfortable,” Steve replies, finally breaking his silence.

“Bullshit,” Eddie objects. “You’re as stiff as a rock.” He prods Steve again as if to prove his point when he doesn’t budge. Then he curls his fingers around Steve’s bicep.

His touch lights every single nerve in Steve’s arm up, and he has to dig his nails into the backs of his hands to keep from doing something stupid, like pulling Eddie’s hand away from his arm so he can hold it instead.

“I’m not gonna bite, y’know,” Eddie says lightly. A second passes, and Steve can practically hear the smirk in his voice as he adds, “Unless you want me to.”

And it’s too much, jesus christ, it’s way too much.

“Could you just back off?” Steve finally snaps.

He regrets it instantly.

Eddie’s hand falls from his arm, like he’s the one that got burned, and the sheets rustle as he shrinks back into his own space. His knee disappears from Steve’s thigh, his toes leave his shin, and Steve suddenly feels cold.

“Okay, okay, sorry,” Eddie says, sobered. He sounds so small. “Didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

And Steve wants to cry because no, that is not it at all. He’s not uncomfortable, not even close, and he’s not upset either. He’s just… overwhelmed. But even that isn’t a bad thing. Eddie didn’t do anything wrong.

“Eddie,” Steve says, rolling onto his side to face Eddie. Eddie’s back is to him, though. Steve reaches out, but he doesn’t touch. He just lets his hand hover over Eddie’s back.

“That’s not it,” he tells him. “I’m not uncomfortable, I promise.”

Eddie makes a noise, sort of like a scoff. Like he doesn’t believe him. “Sure,” he says.

“I’m not!” Steve insists and he flattens his palm to Eddie’s skin. Bends his fingers over the curve of Eddie’s shoulder.

“Then what is it?” Eddie asks, turning over. The movement shakes Steve’s hand off. “What’s your deal, Steve?”

Steve winces at the way he says his name. It doesn’t sound very nice. Not the way it usually does when Eddie says it. God, he’s fucked this up so bad.

Why couldn’t he just chill the fuck out and share the bed like a normal person? Why did he have to ruin everything?

There’s only one way to fix this, though. There’s only one way, and Steve has to do it.

“I want it too much.”

“What?”

Steve squeezes his eyes shut. “I want it too much,” he repeats.

There’s a beat, a totally silent, totally nervwracking beat. And then… the mattress shifts. Eddie’s knee presses into his thigh again. His knuckles graze against Steve’s where his hand lies atop the pillow between them.

“Want… what, exactly?” Eddie asks slowly, and he’s close enough now that Steve can feel his breath ghosting against his face.

Steve opens his eyes, and Eddie’s there, he’s right there, with his big, round eyes. With his parted lips. With this naked vulnerability laying his face bare.

Steve swallows. Lets out a shaky exhale.

“You.”

Eddie sucks in a sharp breath.

“Me?” He whispers.

Steve nods. “You,” he repeats, putting everything behind that one word.

Eddie makes a choked noise, and Steve has zero point five seconds to start to panic before Eddie’s hands fly up to grab either side of his face, squishing his cheeks almost painfully, and he practically throws himself on top of Steve as he tackles him into the pillow and catches his mouth in a kiss.

It’s messy; Eddie sort of misses Steve’s mouth at first, accidentally nails more of his chin than his lips, and when he does finally find those, their teeth end up clacking from the force of their smiles that keep trying to break through. They end up doing more laughing into each other’s mouths than kissing at first, but then Steve slides his hands up Eddie’s back, and Eddie’s gasps into his mouth and Steve takes the chance to fit their lips together properly. To kiss and to kiss and to kiss.

When they break apart seconds, minutes, hours — who even knows? — later, Steve feels like he’s floating on air.

“Jesus christ,” Eddie laughs beside him as he rolls off of Steve to flop back against his own pillow. He doesn’t let go of Steve’s hand.

“You want me. You want me. You want me,” Eddie repeats, laughing delightedly again.

Steve twists towards Eddie, wriggling into his space. “And you want me too,” he says.

Eddie nods, cupping Steve’s jaw again. “There’s nothin’ I want more, Stevie.”

Steve ducks in for another kiss — he can’t help himself. It’s short, and it’s sweet, but it’s everything to him.

He makes a mental note to get up early tomorrow to cook Joyce a great big breakfast. Maybe swing by her favorite little local cafe for some coffee and find a nice bouquet of flowers somewhere too. He’s got to thank her somehow — it’s her house, her home, afterall, that gave him the nudge he needed. That gave him Eddie.

When Steve finally falls asleep that night, it’s with Eddie starfished against his back, legs tangled with his beneath the covers, arms secure around Steve’s waist, and nose tucked into the crook of his neck.

He’s definitely a cuddler.

But so is Steve.

100 ways to say i love you prompts

#asks #princess-josephina #steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #joyce byers #mack writes #macks ficlets

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mcflymemes · 1 year

Text

CSI: CRIME SCENE INVESTIGATION PROMPTS * assorted dialogue from the television show, season 2

i don't want to disappoint you, but this is not the first time i've had a gun pointed at me.

it's easier to get a master's degree than a parking spot on campus.

yeah, i know. check the trunk.

you say that like it means something.

missed me that much, huh?

i lost someone once.

when the reality of their actions set in, they usually turn to religion.

you're too hard on yourself.

i'm like a sponge. i just absorb information.

i gave you your career.

i got a coupon.

who's gonna believe a guy like me?

so that leaves you.

ready, honey?

it sounds like you're making this personal.

god knows you haven't let me touch you in three years.

you're very good. you could work for me.

you were the kind that guys fall all over themselves trying to impress.

i thought that was my line.

you don't believe me?

i could have been a rock star.

i've always wanted to go there.

i don't know the basis of your allegations.

instead, i want you.

i can't believe you're doing this to me.

we told them what happened.

i just realized that you and i have a very healthy relationship.

i've never told anyone before.

no one's ever asked me that before.

you don't know what you're talking about.

you smell like death.

someone will be with you shortly.

i love this table.

you're too smart for that.

you're supposed to say something revealing back to me.

truth brings closure.

rich people don't go to jail.

i don't believe in rules that tell me how i should live.

they're your best feature.

you have to be able to walk away at any time.

no criminal charges were filed.

did you feel sick?

how many meals have we shared together?

kind of sounds like you.

i'll give you a lift.

sex is physical. is that a sport?

i know you're upset.

people don't vanish.

were there any disturbances last night?

you showered.

if there's one thing you learn on this job is that human beings are capable of anything.

i knew you were coming back today, so i dressed up.

you did this to yourself.

how's your new toy working out?

they were kinda cool back in the day.

how can you tell just by looking at it?

they're still dead.

you sucked at team sports, huh.

i notice you have no photos of your family in your office.

it doesn't make you any less guilty.

you ever been to therapy?

look, i was just doing my job.

take a guess.

our job is to think.

this is the thanks i get?

i just got the results.

you were okay sharing your problems with a complete stranger?

that's the funny thing about choices. once you make them, you have to go live with them.

i know what they look like.

this is going to take forever.

i'm playing cards.

did you enjoy being in the field?

sometimes i hate this job.

i always thought you kept your porn in there.

why did you need the expensive one in the first place?

you see my face? this is me almost believing you.

what does that look like?

wherever you live is your temple, if you treat it like one.

what's going on with you?

it's just unusual to see you dressed like that.

i enjoyed it fine.

you got anything to add?

can you think of a better time?

where have you been?

i don't think it's worth it.

i can't be everywhere, and they've banned human cloning.

you're flying solo, cutting me out. what's going on?

i always knew there was something weird about you.

give me a mint.

the past is in the past.

other than that i really don't care.

you can give a man a lot of things. you can give him your time, your money, even your heart. but the one thing you can never ever let go of is your power.

you still smell.

i wouldn't expect anything less.

since when are you interested in beauty?

why are you looking at me?

someone gonna cover me?

whoever this guy is, he's a lousy shot.

they're looking for me, you know.

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puppy-coded · 2 years

Text

I Got You {F.O.}

✰ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: food mention, the Hunger Games, reader is mad at Finnick for literally no reason, reader gets called “pretty girl” one time

✰ 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Finnick Odair x reader

✰ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 820 words

✰ 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: It’s time for the 3rd Quarter Quell and Finnick tries calming your nerves.

✰ 𝐀/𝐍: Requested by @insane-horror-movie-addict and a quick reminder that requests are open.

You and Finnick were holding your breath with the rest of Panem as President Snow announced the third Quarter Quell. He had his arm around you as you cuddled up into his side, biting your nails out of nervousness.

When it was announced that victors would have to go back into the Games you shot up.

“Finn, can you believe this?” You asked loudly, shock evident in your tone and on your face.

Finnick shook his head with a sad expression. “No. I can’t. Surely it’s a joke right?”

You wrapped your arms around him with a deep sigh. “Knowing the Capital, it’s not.”

Finnick leaned down to kiss your forehead“It’s okay. It’s okay. I may be a victor but of all of them I can’t be the only guy right? I’m sure it will all work out.” He said, brushing a strand of hair out of your face.

You looked up at your boyfriend with a worried expression. “But what if it doesn’t?”

Finnick smiled because he knew if he didn’t he might cry at the thought of leaving you behind. “Then there’s other men like me here in District 4. Don’t worry about me,” He said.

You glared at your boyfriend briefly and settled back down. “That’s a lie. Even if it was true, I only want you,” You said tiredly.

Finnick turned off the television set and kissed your forehead. “It’s okay my love. We’ll be good.”

“Okay.” You said with a slight smile. “I believe you.”

. . .

The next night Finnick was waiting for you on the back porch of his house in the Victor’s Village with a fire in the fire pit. He had marshmallows, chocolate, and graham crackers waiting on a chair for you.

“Finn, what’s this?” You asked.

Finnick smiled. “S’mores and a chat?”

Yo rolled your eyes playfully and sat down. “This must’a cost a fortune,” You pointed out.

Finnick shrugged and started roasting a marshmallow. “Just wanna see my pretty girl smile,” He told you.

You shook your head with a small smile and situated yourself next to him. You two only ate roasted marshmallows and talked for four hours. It was well after dark when you two started to get tired and ready to go back in.

Finnick smiled when he aw you trying to stay awake on the hard ground. “See? A fireside chat always heals,” He joked.

“Finn?” You asked softly to get his attention.

“Yeah?”

“Be careful in the Games.” You said, looking over and putting your hand on his leg.

Finnick kept a soft expression on his face as he knew that what he was about to say was probably a lie. “I won’t be in pulled for the Games. I promise. I got you.” He assured you, trying his best to keep his voice even. “Marshmallow?”

You took the marshmallow from him and smiled weakly. “Thanks.”

“Hey.” He said, gently shaking you so you would look up from the marshmallow. “I love you. I just want to tell you that much.”

You shoved the rest of the marshmallow in your mouth and smiled the best you could. “I love you too.”

. . .

After the Reaping you stormed into the Justice Building, fists clenched in anger. Not at Finnick but at the Capital but you knew that you would absolutely get punished for speaking badly about the Capital so... Finnick it was in your mind.

You didn’t mean to be as mean as you were but... well... stress does things to usually rational people.

As soon as he saw you he put his hands up in an “I lost” gesture. “Okay. I was wrong.”

You pointed angrily at your boyfriend and, man, if looks could kill then Finnick couldn’t even think of going to the Games. “Finnick you asshole. You gave me hope.”

“Okay, okay, we can calm down.” He said with his hands up between you two. “You have 3 minutes. Do you want to spend it yelling at me?”

You took a few deep breaths and looked down. “... No.”

He wrapped his arms around you and kissed your forehead. “My love. It’s okay. I got you.”

You returned the hug and smiled. “Thanks Finn.”

“Guess what.”

“What?”

“I love you.” He said as he grbbed your head. He gave you two quick pecks and let go which made you giggle lightly.

“I love you too. Don’t die.” You told him, slightly giggly from the affection Finnick showed you.

He frowned at your words. “You know I won’t make any promises I can’t keep.”

You frowned and grabbed his hand, pressing a light kiss to his knuckles. “Be careful then.”

He put his free hand on you cheek and kissed the tip of your nose. “I’ll do my best.”

You looked at him sadly. “That’s all I’m getting isn’t it?”

He smiled the best he could despite the situation. “It’s all I can promise my love.”

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ipegchangbin · 2 years

Text

— good night

han jisung x reader

I’m sick of waiting patiently for someone that won’t even arrive. Alternatively: Han Jisung comes home to find out you’re gone.

🏷️ angst. hurt, comfort. hopeful ending?

🏷️ gender neutral reader (no pronouns). not beta read. themes of loss. consumption of alcohol and prescribed medication. hallucinations. intrusive thoughts (not acted upon). lovers to…

w/c: 3.3k

a/n: a very spontaneous vent fic, so i’m not tagging people from the taglist (it’s far from the stuff i write). i wrote this on one of the best days of my life: with every high comes one of the lowest of lows. but honestly, fuck that depressive rut. if life isn’t treating you with kindness, i just want to remind you that hope still sings somewhere: you aren’t alone and brighter days will come. otherwise, enjoy.

due its themes, this story is 18+. minors do not interact.

Jisung lifted his eyes up and away from his phone to look at the stars. Shiny lights littered the night sky in a way that could make one feel so small yet so calm. The moon sat in the dead center of the chaos.

The moon mocked him. The moon mocked you.

A scene played out in Jisung’s mind. He was situated in the actual setting, which helped, but he viewed the landscape as if projections of his imagination came to life. Some nights he would wish they did. Playing this same very specific scene, in particular, wasn’t difficult for him. He’d been watching the same thing in his mind over and over like a comfort movie marathoning itself on an abandoned television.

You sat right across him, facing away, your head up to the clearing clouds but your eyes glazed past the current universe. It was a beautiful cliffside.

“If ever you get lost, or think you’re alone, just look up. We’ll be under the same sky.” You never thought to say something so profound.

You had to laugh at yourself. Jisung wordlessly looked your way with the fronts of his eyebrows lifted in confusion and worry.

“Yeah right, whatever the fuck that means,” you added, mocking your own words. You never truly believed that people could all live under the same sky.

The obvious answer is that humans are surrounded by the cosmos on a rotating sphere. That is, even from an adjusted point of view, some could see sunsets while others witness the sunrise. No two parts of the globe would ever be the same. There is no such thing as the “same sky.”

And yet, you wanted to believe that the sights in the air would be your guide. You wanted to believe that something out there will get you to make it better. Constellations that don’t hold your dreams spell out the word “hope” in big letters. Look at the stars and you won’t get lost.

Funny you said that, Jisung thought to himself.

You got lost, too. You’ve still yet to find your way through the stars.

You traveled across the world and never came back. Never wrote back. Never reached out by any means. You disappeared on his end. He knew you’d get lost: you were under a different sky.

He chuckled sadly to himself. As the irony settled in, so did the memory of you.

Jisung had to temporarily move to another city for work. Neither of you could handle consistent long-distance communication because of the nature of your work, so you both went on a break.

Remained friends, yet romantically distant for just a few months. After he’s done with it, he would run back to you if he still loved you so. Every piece in the puzzle will find its place again when he’d stabilized his position in that job. The hurt and worry for each other didn’t have to last so long. No hard feelings if he found someone else while he was away, nor if you decided to fully move on. You two were on a break, so be it if it ended at that, but you two would reignite that flame if he came back. That was the agreement. You both did well with accepting it.

He didn’t anticipate an ending with no answer, though. All the if’s did not account for a blank.

He wanted to surprise you with his return. After all, even with the logistics of the break in the relationship, his heart never left. He still viewed you as his soulmate, the love of his life. You hadn’t been in contact with him in months, but it didn’t hold him back. He was merely an astronaut coming home to you from an expedition on the moon.

He came back to a sight that was less than ideal: your home — and his home — barely held itself together. Everyone was busier and sadder, and he couldn’t tell why.

Families and friends scrambled. People rushed in all sorts of directions from station to station until faces blurred past Jisung’s eyes. Mutual friends and your extended family greeted him with sad stares. Mouths from familiar sources would mutter “He doesn’t know. Should we tell him?” And yet, nobody would follow. Jisung could tell something unfortunate had happened, but every time he would ask, they’d avoid it. “You didn’t know? Poor Ji, I’m so sorry…”

They all left it at that.

You left it at that.

The break didn’t mean that neither of you would cease contact, but it slowly happened. Texts and calls weren’t regular, to begin with, but they happened as frequently as close friends would have it. At some point, it almost felt like neither of you left the other’s presence.

And then you stopped texting.

you: alright i gtg theres work in the am, byebye good luck ji ! you: 143. :)) Sent 2 months ago, 11:35 PM

That was the last set of messages you sent. Those were the last things you said. None of it was out of the ordinary until he realized you never replied to him since then.

No answer.

He did everything: he panic messaged you every morning, he tried to hit up your email, and he checked your profiles. Your social media accounts still followed him, but they ceased activity as a whole. You never unfollowed nor followed anyone new, never deleted anything, and never posted anything. When Jisung reached out to your friends for answers, they were as avoidant as they were in person.

Still, no answer.

He figured to check your last tracked location. Miniature LED lights on his phone screen signaled when and where you last were. Your phone had died on the other end of the world. Quite literally so: you were in a foreign country, last active 2 months ago at 11:35 PM. He didn’t even know that you traveled miles away from home. Nobody fully knew how you got there. Nobody has heard from you since.

You disappeared without a trace.

Maybe you got a new phone. Maybe you moved there for good. Maybe you got into an altercation of sorts and that’s why everyone avoided you as a topic. But why? None of it made sense.

Jisung’s legs led him out of the subway train until he was on the other end of your town, down to the location you both frequently visited. You both loved to stargaze at this calm park by the cliffside right next to the sea. The breeze always calmed the both of you, and you exchanged your first kisses there. A lot of dates ended there, with hugs and giggles and theories about the future.

It also held a lot of secrets. A lot of darkness that wasn’t brought by the night settled within that place. You both opened up about a lot of things there, beer bottles in your hands and tear stains on each other’s shirts and shoulders.

Jisung kept walking with the intent of going there, hoping and praying to whatever there was in the air that you were indeed there, staring at the same sky. He was about to walk up the stairs of the subway when he saw your picture printed out and plastered all over the walls of the exit.

His hand reached out to grab a paper. You looked beautiful in the image. He took that picture of you.

He read the text.

“Y/N has been reported…”

Missing.

Missing your presence. Missing the scenes of love. Missing your warmth and everything that came with it.

Jisung grabbed a halfway-empty beer bottle and swung it to his mouth. Chug, chug, chug, and yet he had nobody to do cheers with. His eyes peered up at the gloomy evening sights. The sea below reflected the moon and its children of lights, but his eyes reflected none of its shine.

To be fair, there was an air of comfort in the familiarity of the scene. It was the same exact scene that would play out almost every single time both of your souls made it to this point. The same amount of comfort, the same whispering breeze, the same set of stars.

A few of them have stopped twinkling. Some were missing.

Crucially, you were missing.

“Where the fuck did you go?”

This was the first time he had talked out loud to nothing. Well, he was trying to talk to you, hoping to see you appear at the very last minute. There were no apparitions. His voice was absorbed by no ears. His shaky exhales merely bounced off the leaves of damp grass beneath his legs.

“In the back of my mind,” he said, “you’ve died.”

But you haven’t. Nobody’s certain about where you were. After he found out about your status, he asked around for more information.

That was the only time where he finally got to know about the details of your case. Everything was tracked from the flight you took, the hotel you were supposed to stay in, and the last people you spoke to: your message to him led to nothing since you blocked all contacts after, and the device was deemed untraceable.

You were last seen at the airport’s parking lot. That was where your phone was last detected. Nobody has seen you since then.

Even then, he had no answer.

Even then, you still hadn’t died in his head.

“I just wish you could’ve—” Jisung choked on a tear. Unintentionally, he literally choked and started a coughing fit. His throat grew too tight from the endless chugs of alcohol down his esophagus and he simply couldn’t hold himself back from crying.

“I wish you could’ve told me.”

He aggressively set the alcohol bottle down to his side. If he wasn’t suffocating on his own tears, he’d been losing breath at the loss of his life source.

Rationalizing your absence and theorizing about your whereabouts was all he could do the whole day. His mind was never put at rest and his heart ran laps across the Earth from sheer panic. It could fly to the moon and back.

The moon still mocked him. The moon still mocked you.

Naturally, his brain gravitated towards regret. Regret. It filled his head to the brim. What if’s were reserved for a definitive future past your break, not an unanswered question.

He regretted preparing too many things for a break he loathed to have. It didn’t help that this was nothing like what he — nor anyone — would expect.

Except, maybe he should have.

You used to swear about never having your peace. That you were happy, yet it never felt like you were really there when you were at the peak of your euphoria. Everyone called you optimistic, but you always said otherwise.

“Maybe it’s because I don’t talk to them like I talk to myself,” you’d tell Jisung, “or…like I talk to you.”

You knew each other like the backs of your own hands. Trust is a word that doesn’t quite encompass the deep bond that you both shared. Two class clowns who never graduated from your circuses, who always had to wipe the makeup off at the end of the day and put the big red nose down. Only you two could understand that intimately.

“Probably why the break was so stupid,” Jisung thought aloud.

He tried to think about it. It was always easy for him to put himself in your shoes, even if he was two sizes larger. You’ve definitely been more upset with yourself lately — or at least, two months ago.

“Jisung, I can’t keep wasting my patience.”

“It’s getting more difficult with each passing day.”

“Please, Ji, tell me this fucking gets better!”

Too many memories of you shouting at the abyss, shouting at the stars. You were a wolf howling at the moon.

That goddamn moon.

He didn’t know why you hated looking at it so much until he raised his head to examine its looks. A full moon shone over the cliffside, pulling the waves below with a force he can’t remember the mechanics of. All he knew was that it controlled the seas.

It was a rock staring blankly at him. The more he looked at it, though, the more it seemed to double.

He didn’t know if it was the meds kicking in late, or the alcohol, or if it was both.

Jisung took medicine to somewhat cure whatever kept him up at night. Obviously, it didn’t cure anything, but it helped him clear his mind. You used to be jealous about it until he brought you to the same doctor and you took some slightly different medication. It helped you a lot, but Jisung’s meds always kicked in late.

“Alcohol doesn’t help with these meds. Just be careful with drinking,” his doctor would tell him, and he would always disobey that advice. Booze never helped either of you. Jisung should’ve known. If only he weren’t so stubborn, he would’ve stopped drinking earlier.

Whatever it was, staring at the moon drove him insane: the stars surrounding him didn’t help, no matter how pretty the constellations looked.

He was more confused by the starry sky than he was guided through it.

He groggily scrambled for his phone to distract himself, but he instead got a hand at your poster. Instead of setting it down, he blinked at it and tried to refocus on your image.

You looked stunning.

You always have: of all the people he’d been with in his life, you were always the stunner in his eyes. Exes of different backgrounds all wished to have the same hold you had on Jisung’s heart. You had always been all sorts of handsome and pretty to him.

The more he stared at your picture, though, the dizzier he became. He took that picture. You passed the last exam of your grad school and you nearly leaped onto him when you left the building. He snapped a photo of you with your signature smile. You looked so happy.

Washes of the memory overwhelmed him with what felt like a fleeting rush of joy, only for it to dissipate as suddenly as you left.

“What the fuck happened?” Jisung sighed.

“Tell me, please. Just tell me what happened.”

With trembling fingers, he settled the poster down and searched up your conversation. Even if you blocked all of your contacts, he still had every single message between you two saved on his end. Memories encrypted with permanence. It’s data that he can’t ever lose, and it’s a promise he wasn’t willing to break even in the theoretical scenario that you two were truly over.

Alas, you’ve both hit a blank.

He found the same last message but the sight only ever tormented him.

“One, four, three.”

Reading it aloud didn’t help.

You used to say that to him when you were together. You cringed at typing the full “love phrase” and you wanted to be “sillier about it,” but in reality, you just had a knack for shortening your words.

One, four, three: I love you. It’s quite simple, it’s quite lovely. It was witty, and it always made Jisung smile.

Tonight, he wasn’t smiling.

“I hate you.” He said, the tears overflowing and clogging at the same time.

He didn’t hate you. You didn’t hate him. The spite was painful and it was growing.

“I hate you, I hate you—”

He’d hate the idea of hating you.

“I fucking hate you!”

So why was he saying all of that?

“Y/N, just make it make sense! Where the fuck have you gone? Why the fuck did you leave? Why couldn’t—why couldn’t you tell me, why couldn’t you tell anyone?”

Inhale, exhale.

Seas rose and fell with every word from his throat but even with the waves of emotion crashing ashore, all he could feel were curses lodged at the back of his mouth.

“You always told me everything, but nothing at the same time! It’s so easy to open up. It’s so easy to just tell me what’s wrong, and I gave you all of the alcohol in the world to let you loosen up. Should’ve never gone on that stupid break. I-I should’ve insisted.”

His head fell into his hands but his voice only grew louder. There was a lump in his chest but he only kept going.

“I wish I bought that ring while I was there. I could have just surprised you with the ring. I should have — fucking shit — I should have told your parents about the plans. I should have said something. I should have noticed everything. I should have stopped you. And now I don’t know where you are, you won’t answer, I miss you, I fucking love you but I can’t tell you that when you’re n-not here—”

He felt a finger brush against his cheek. A weight wrapped around his body. He turned to look but saw nothing.

“Y/N?”

No answer.

Was he hallucinating? That felt like you. Gusts of wind blew in all sorts of directions but none of them hit in the same way your touch did. He knew it too well. His chest couldn’t grow any tighter at the thought.

He looked at the stars.

It always calmed you down even if some stars were missing. Twinkling stars are dying stars, after all. They spell out the words you want to hear every night. They are the source of sights that make you wonder about your position in the grand scheme of things.

“To hell with that ‘we are on a floating rock’ bullshit, this rock is big and so are our problems.” You used to say that a lot, and he swears he could hear it then. But you weren’t there.

Don’t look at the moon. It reflects the sun, and the glow will still burn your eyes.

It was mocking him. It was mocking you.

He switched his gaze over to the shore below again, this time taking an effort to lift his legs off the ground and stare at the rocks below the grass. Not too high off from sea level, but not low enough for one misstep to ruin his life.

All it took was a text. Just an answer. Anything could do.

Nothing could hurt more than a cliffhanger.

“But life is still going on, and there’s nothing better than to just keep walking with it.” You’d smile at him. “You could run away. It’s better than pausing it as a whole, right?”

Before he could take a step further, he recalled those words and slumped back down on the grass. It made everything dizzier, but he thought it over and tried to make sense of it.

“You ran away…right?” Jisung whispered. “Because you didn’t want life to pause?”

His arms hugged his knees close to his chest.

His eyes stared at the artificial lights of the screen until he could hallucinate the glass cracking. It seemed that his phone mocked him, too.

Jisung let out a sob. And then another. He could feel a throb under his temples. Chest heaving, choppy breathing, but he couldn’t stop and rehydrate with more alcohol; his arms felt too heavy.

“I failed you, Y/N. I love you. I…”

Buzz.

On the damp grass, his device — the phone he was beginning to hate — rang. Unknown number. Mindlessly, he picked up the call.

Any answer would do.

“Hello?”

“Ji.”

A voice, impossibly shakier than his, found its way to the other end of the line.

“I’m coming home. Please wait for me,” you breathed. “I love you still.”

The tears found their way down his cheeks. Crumpling, crumbling, and crashing, Jisung held the phone to his ear with a slipping force.

“How—Y/N? Where are you? What—”

But the call ended as abruptly as it started.

Was it real? Was he hallucinating? Was it you? He pinched himself to wake up, but alas, it didn’t work. He only sobered up, ever so slightly. The call registered on his phone.

Jisung looked up at the moon and sighed.

A cloud cast itself over the glowing white sphere and the pink fog of sunshine emerged from the horizon.

#skz angst #han jisung x reader #han jisung angst #jisung x reader #jisung angst #💬 z is writimg

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