#Hush Puppy Project

[yan-lorkai]

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: Was listening some horror stories while I finished some projects then got inspired by it and wrote this. Hope u guys like it <3

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Warnings: Platonic yandere content, kidnapping, murder. Probably typos too.

"Nuh-uh, dad!" You looked at the book Lilia carried with him. He had read this book for you a thousand times and a pout formed on your lips, already thinking how you would have to bear this torture again.

There was nothing wrong with the stories, per say. But they get a little old and boring when you had heard them this many times. And Lilia was quite forgetful so asking him to buy other books wasn't always a successful endeavor. Though when you asked him to create a story he told you he wans't creative enough either. You aren't having any of that. You were tired of hearing about snow white, rapunzel, ugly duckling and all the classics. You wanted something new and today you would have it.

"Tell me another story, please!" You asked, making your best puppy eyes at him. Those eyes worked on Silver and Sebek, so you wanted to try on him as well. His reaction was different from the one you were expecting though, Lilia smiled and patted your head.

You loved having him read to you - it was your favorite activity to bond with your father, where you solved mysteries with him and laughed at silly pickup lines, but Lilia was still fond of the classics. There was though another book, called The General Tales. The author was unknown and the cover was painted a dark red, it was strange. And you hadn't the chance to read it because your father was very conscious about it, hiding when you so much as glanced in its direction.

You could only suppose it was a horror book. But you were already quite grown up. You were almost 13 years old! You could sit through any story he read without having nightmares! He didn't seem to agree.

"What am I going to do with you, little batty?" Lilia mused to himself when you showed the book. There was an excited glee in his eyes whenever he looked at it, as if it contained his favorite memories; little did you know what was written on those pages and how much blood they had seen. How much blood Lilia used to write those same pages.

He smiled finally. Dangerously, like he did when you pranked him and he was plotting his revenge.

You make space in your bed for him to sit beside you and he opened those secret pages you had always wondered about. They were yellowed by the time and some were dog eared, written in a beautiful yet hushed cursive. You were fascinated.

Lilia waited till you made yourself comfortable, laying your head against his chest and body nestled into his side, so he turned some pages, humming to himself. You could only think what kind of story would he read to you. You could only hope it was scary. It wans't night time yet and even if you got scared then surely at night, when he put you to bed, you would have already forgotten all the gorey details. Right...?

"There was a couple who lived happily at the woods," Lilia's deep voice started its tale and you closed your eyes to fully immerse yourself in your imaginnation as you listened to him. "but then a plague started to poison the soil and their crops were destroyed. The walk to the nearest village used to take a whole day to go and another to come back. The husband tried to hunt animals to feed his lover and their one year old child but he failed each and every time. Without other options he started traveling to this village."

"Wait, what about the plague?" You asked fulled with curiosity. Then you through to yourself why they didn't tried to make it go away somehow.

Either they tried and didn't worked. Or they didn't even thought about it. Nonetheless, you brushed it off as they don't having this knowledgment. But this bugged you for a second. Humans and faes knew about plagues and how to get rid of them, they been doing this since they were brought to existence.

Your question made Lilia smile cheerfully, you observed. He must be proud of you for asking this, as he had homeschooled you and used to brag about how smart you was to anyone who wanted to listen - he'd brag even if they didn't want to hear. "Ah, you see, they were bad people. The soil knew this and rejected them, my dear."

Well... Growing in Briar Valley you knew this was probable to happen. Fae were internally linked to their florests and woods, and rivers and oceans, and everything nature could touch. That was also why Lilia raised both you and your older brother, Silver, in the woods. He used to take both of you to fish, and swim and watch the dawn all the time. Though time changed and life got busier, maybe you ask him to take you fishing again someday. Or to go camping somewhere.

"Makes sense, what happened to them then?"

"The man bought everything he needed, every last golden coin spent. But he had food for months to come, he was already imagining what his wife would cook on the way back when an incident happened."

Lilia turned the page and you could see a little drawing of a man horse riding into the horizon. Then he started reading again after taking in your expressions.

"A stag came running at him, the horse didn't react at time and both animals collided. Wounded, the animal couldn't walk and neither could the man who had fallen and sprained his ankle. Snow was falling, surrounding him like a veil, all the food he brought with their remaining gains lost there. He thought to himself 'I'm going to die certainly', rejected he was once, rejected he was at that moment. Lost and in pain, feeling miserable, he tried to stand but failed. Every attempt more painful than the other. A river was falling from his eyes when he finally gave up."

Your heart ached at this. But you hoped for the better. Freezing and being left hungry during winter sounded like hell. Lilia pinched your cheek when he noticed you frowning. He laughed at the face you make at him, annoyed at your father's antics.

Lilia smiled. "Nope. Nope, instead he had heard a voice from the woods, a hooded figure was suddenly standing in front of him. He could only see the figure's blood red eyes."

"Oh no, did he die?"

You looked at your father. "Your eyes are red!"

Lilia nodded, his leg bouncing with how excited he was from reading this story. "Do you think the hooded figure was me?"

"Well, it was?" You replied with another ask. Your father didn't respond.

Instead he continued reading. "If I save you, what can you get me in return? The hooded figure asked, crouching to be on the man height. Their touch was tender as they wiped his tears and looked at him, but there was something in them that make him tremble more than snow could. There was something truly evil behind those eyes, something terrible behind that smile. The man didn't answer nor said anything for various minutes. Though for him, hours seemed to have passed. Maybe even years as he looked at those eyes."

"Nah, I didn't think it was you," You thought out loud. "Your eyes are very beautiful and gentle."

Returning your little compliment, Lilia squeezed you in a side hug while laughing. "Oh, thank you sugar. Your eyes are beautiful too."

"But they aren't red as yours." You pouted.

"You wanted them to be?" You nodded. Nor you or Silver have his red eyes. But you wish you had. His eyes were unique, were cute but also intimidating. So intimidating when he wanted them to be that you were imagining that the hooded figure had those same eyes.

You both stayed in that hug before you remind him to read again. There were fewer pages to go now. And again there was a drawing, this time you could see the man with that figure chatting while snow pilled beside them, as if the cold didn't bothered them. Then on another page he stood up and a carriage had appeared, he held the wet food in his arms, saving whatever it was possible to save. He would go back home to his family.

But at what price? It wans't written. The author had keeped too vague.

"When he arrived home, with a new horse and a carriage, which the hooded figure told him to sell for its quality was impressive and he would gain even more gold than he had spended, he was his child running at him, happy that their, uh, father had finally returned. The entire time though, the man could still feel the figure's eyes on him, could see those eyes in his mind. But he pushed those thoughts out of his mind, held his child and whirled around with them to they laughed. He watched them disappear back inside when they got too cold. And then he explained what had happened to his wife, she deserved to know."

He explained this incident with the stag, about the hooded figure and the deal he made with it. And very lowly he whispered how he wouldn't follow his part of the deal - and lying to a fae is something one must never do. Something he shouldn't have done. But he did. And that's the soil reject them even more.

Beneath the earth it was possible to feel the tremors or the wind that pushed everything out of its way. Lilia read how the man dealed with each and every tribulation, how he passed the trials and went his way around the deal, doind the bare minimum to ensure only his and his family safety. He only forgotten that the figure could see him.

"Then one night the hooded figure came to pay him a visit. It knocked on the door and it smiled when it saw the wife holding her child, looking at it with clear fear in her eyes. Like her husband, the wife was trembling in its presence. She let it enter, if anything because she couldn't send him away, she didn't know with what she was dealing, she couldn't act wrong and jeopardize her child safety. Instead she played the role of a welcoming hostess."

Lilia paused a second to breathe then he smiled as if he too was imagining what happened next. Pressed against him you were still. Were it going to kill everyone?

"Please, you may sit here. Do you want to eat something or perhaps are you thirsty? She asked. The air around them was tense. Though her child was poking the stranger without fear, filled with innocent curiosity. The figure picked the child and looked at their eyes. A carnivorous smiled streched on it's face. 'This will be not necessary' the figure said.'"

Another dramatic pause. It was so silent you could hear the birds flying from a considerate distance. It was so silent that you could focus on the blood flowing on your veins. You were anxious to know what happened next. And your father seemed to take fun on this, delaying his narrative to look at the drawing of the figure and the child. This one was colored and you noticed that the child looked just like you. Same hairstyle and same color eye, even same skin color.

You didn't know how to feel about it. You was thinking about what the figure would do to that child. Coming from a horror book you had only one guess. Lilia though didn't share your apprehension as he started narrating again.

"'Call your husband and let's eat. Together. No lies this time or this cutie will pay the price.' The figure warned her. But it know what was fated to happen. The couple were liars and no good persons. Of course they were going to lie. When everyone was seated to eat, the wife served first her guest then her husband then her child and finally herself; though the figure was still holding the child. The wife looked like she wanted to ask something but held her tongue."

Lilia licked his fingers and turned the page. Your heart breaked at the drawing. It seemed painful and explicit but you keeped yourself from looking away, you asked for him to read and you wanted to hear and see everything.

"'Open wide, little one.' The figure told the child, holding Its own spoon of soup to feed the baby. The mother seemed alarmed by it as if she had just done something stupid. And she did, poisoned the figure's spoon and plate, and food too. She held its hand and looked at it with pleading eyes. She fell to her knees, afraid for her child's life and security, stuttering and mumbling. 'please, don't.' she asked it. And a laughed escaped the hooded figure's lips, so sweet, so dangerous, he looked at the child who made grabby hands at the food. 'I said no lies yet you lied to me, tried to deceit me when I've been nothing if good for the both of you. And what did I asked in return? Say it, word by word, to her, mighty husband.' The wife looked at her husband."

"But it was so vague... Dad, what did it said?" At this your father patted your hair, twirling his fingers in your hair to distract you. He almost never replied to you in these moments, wanting you to draw your own conclusions. Still you wished he answered you on this matter. You were too curious and inquisitive.

"'I want you to restore the crops with this insecticide I'm giving you, I want you to make house for the birds and for you to clean the rivers when they thaw. And... And I want your first-born, f-for them to take your place, a-a life for a lif...' The husband answered, without finding his wife's eyes. Though he didn't looked at her, he knew how the color vanished from her face and how she was stunned into silence. He had never mentioned the part where the figure wanted their child, had he done that she would killed him herself. Her pregnancy was problematic and painful but she was so happy that her child was here now, she was delighted to her their little laugh and see them starting to walk and talk. And he stole all this from her."

You gripped your father's arm, you aren't expecting this betrayal. You expected the hooded figure to be the killer who would slaughter everyone and then dance upon their corpses. But there was something intimately sad knowing that someone so close as a father to his own child, could be a liar. You felt a bad taste on your tongue. Though part of you was excited to see where things were going now. Would be possible for this story to have a happily after all? Part of you didn't know but you hoped so.

"'You lied to me? About this?' The poor wife was inconsolable, struggling even to stand still as her whole face burned with ire. She knew nothing could be done. Maybe it was her own fear, maybe it was the figure's presence who seemed to feed into her negative feelings, the next second she threw herself on top of her husband punching and screaming at him. Her chair had fallen to the ground with her plate, food flying everywhere. The hooded figure sighed but tucked the child's face in his neck for them to not see this. The couple flighted like two angry kittens, disjointed, clumsy, without really knowing where to hit to hurt more. It was pitiful to watch. It hummed while the scene unfolded before its eyes. They fought and screamed but the figure still soothed the scared child who gripped its clothes hard. It prevent them from turning around, holding them tightly against it. 'Just a second, little one.' it told them."

A knife fell from the table when the husband managed to kick his wife off him. She hitted her back at the wooded table's leg but took the knife and looked at him with bloodthirsty eyes. She tried to stab him but he dodge and evaded every attack, he laughed at it. And she was feeling angry, so angry she'd die if she could kill him and then the entity who watched them in silence. "I hate you. You ruined everything. You couldn't even do a thing right!"

Her words were words of a frightened woman and, above all, a mom who knew she had lost her child. The precious child who bringed so much life and happiness into her life. You felt sad at this. They were both bad. The husband for making the deal and then not following it, and the wife for trying to poison the hooded figure without trying to ask what it wanted. You wonder if things would have ended differently if they didn't lie.

"The husband could only smile and roll his eyes at this. Nothing he could say was going to be enough, nothing he could say was going to comfort her or save them from their demise. The fight ended when he twisted her own arm and stabbed her with the knife, twisting. She fell on the ground painfully, blood painting the carpet. The last thing she saw was her child sleeping on that creature's arms."

You sniffled, trying to stifle your cry so not get attention of your father. But he was perceptive, always was. He could know what you were doing even if he wasn't in the same room you were. It was a dad instinct kinda of thing, you thought once.

Lilia patted your head, letting you feel what you were feeling without commenting on the small tears that rolled down your chest or tease you. He had told you and Silver multiple times to not be ashamed to cry or feel freely, to not repress your emotions. And you weren't ashamed by it. But you did thought you were overreacting a little. It was just a story after all!

"The now armed man swinged at the hooded figure, tears falling from his eyes the same way they have fallen weeks before. This time though he had an ever more serious reason to cry, he had killed his wife. He lost the one he loved it and it was all that hooded figure fault. Or so he said to himself, still lying. Fighting though was futile, his effort was futile, he was no match for the figure, so agile and fast, even if it was holding a sleepy baby on its arms, it still could fight with ease as if battle and fight were it's old friends. It killed the man easily, with a swing of it's hands and a little magic, the man joined his wife in the afterlife where she would want him down eternally."

You jumped a little when he closed the book, looking at him in disbelief. The tears had dried on your eyes but they were still a little red from crying. "That's how it ends?"

Lilia nodded then added. "Though there's still a line. It goes like: the entity looked at the child affectionately, it had what it wanted, it had the child. The hooded figure finally lowered the hood from its face, revealing its young and yet deceitful appearance. It was a he and he looked at the child gently. 'I'm going to call you Yuu. Fufufu, how does that sound, Yuu?'"

You whined in surprise. It was your name! You liked to think that your name was unique and no one else had it, just so you could feel a little special, but at that moment you didn't know how you felt. There were so many plot twists in that story, your mind seemed to run a marathon by how hard you were thinking about everything. Only thing you could muster was. "They were dumbing, lying to a fae."

Though you wonder... Why there was a drawing of a child so similar to you and that also has your name? You searched for you father's eyes and found him him staring at you. But he wasn't staring how he used to stare, it was mischievous, evil. Dangerous. You found out that you couldn't move, paralyzed in fear while his eyes searched for something inside your soul. Whatever it was he seemed happy, his gaze softening as the minutes passed, his headpats returning slowly.

"How does tea sounds, little one?" He asked. It sounded like death coming from him, Lilia managed to even burn the water. You mumbled something, too busy thinking about the story to care that you were about to be poisoned by Lilia's tea. There was many puzzle pieces missing for you to complete the entire frame.

Maybe someday, Lilia thought with a smug smile.

#yandere twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #yandere lilia #yandere lilia vanrouge #yandere lilia x yuu #yandere lilia x mc #yandere lilia x reader #lilia x mc #lilia x reader #lilia x yuu #lilia vanrouge #lilia vanrouge x reader #twst lilia #twst lilia vanrouge #tw yandere #platonic yandere #male yandere #gender neutral reader #lorkai oneshot

[bonkhrnyjail]

sweet plum | chapter four

masterlist | pinterest board | spotify playlist

pairing: pedro pascal x fem!reader (plus size)

rating: mature (will become explicit in the future)

warnings: mentions of alcohol/drinking, mild mentions of weight discrimination

summary: a late night facetime turns into a midnight adventure

a/n: well shit yall. thank you for all the love on what i've posted so far. the validation is like crack for my stupid little dopamine deficiency. and strap in for a slow burn. also, i want to note, you definitely don't have to live in a bigger body to enjoy this story. give it a try if you're on the fence. <3

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“Leave me alone,” you whine at Bella, their shrill laughter crackling from your shit-quality phone speakers.

They continue to poke fun at you for watching Bridgerton for the fourth time in the past few months. Work has been painfully slow, and you have to wait until after the premiere to take on any other big projects. With your NDA, you can't exactly put the best job you've ever booked on your resume until the show is aired.

You continue to defend yourself, huffy and stern, glaring at them through your camera lens.

“I love a slow burn romance… it’s not my fault.”

“I know you do,” Bella mumbles in a somewhat accusatory tone, chuckling to themselves with a shake of their head.

“Excuse me?” you question, a palpable underlying meaning to the statement clear as day. "That felt pointed."

“Pfft, it's nothing,” they quip with a jovial eye roll.

“No, no, please. Enlighten me.” you playfully push, somewhat perplexed by their vagueness. 

“I mean… you—” 

Bella gets cut off by the familiar notification sound of someone joining the call.

Pedro’s face appears massive on the screen, his head propped up against a pillow on his green leather couch. His hair is completely disheveled, sticking straight to the heavens on the left side. He smiles, beamingly, the majority of his pearly teeth on vivid display.

“So this is what happens when I don’t see you for a few months," you jest.

“Got drunk, slept face first on the couch. I just woke up,” he explains, his voice cloaked in a thick rasp, clearly still acclimating to his consciousness. “But you’re right regardless. I am a bed-headed disaster without you.”

A fantasy floats into your head, you helping him tame his unruly mane in the morning, planting soft kisses along his forehead with every huffy groan, denying every whine and protest to return with you to the bed.

“You need to hire her as a live-in,” Bella jeers, “It’s really… really bad.”

The three of you chat for a while, weaving in and out of conversation topics with lubricious ease. Embarrassing moments, family memories, recalling inside jokes from your days in Canada, the leisure of it reminds you of how effortless it is with them. Your incessant laughter burns your stomach as tears prick the corner of your eyes.

“One time, my mum and I went to a dairy farm and the baby calves would not stop sucking on my fingers,” Bella recounts, wiping the tears from their eyes. “I tried to put my hands in my pockets but they started going for the pockets too. I eventually had to run away and they kept trying to chase me.”

“That sounds like a dream! I'd love to go to a dairy farm,” you exclaim, puppy-eyed with a gentle pout. “Cows are my favorite animal, you know.”

“Let's go to a dairy farm then,” Pedro blurts in.

You scoff, taken aback by his offer.

“With your schedule? Please.”

“Oh hush, I’ll always make time for you.”

Your breath hitches.

He'll always make time for you?

The call falls silent for a moment, your mouth falling open as you process the sentiment. You examine his expression, sincere and warm and ever-so-slightly bashful, and the sight of it sends blood rushing to the apples of your cheeks.

Bella’s eyes widen as their lips curl inward, cheeks blowing out to stifle a giggle.

“Alright! Well… I gotta go... early day tomorrow. I love you both!”

They blow a kiss to each of you and disconnect from the call before you can say goodbye.

An uncomfortable air of silence hangs between the two of you, still heavy and unnerving despite the miles separating you. You chuckle to yourself on instinct, just to create some sort of noise to cut through the tension.

“Are you still drunk?” you inquire.

It’s heavily rumored that Pedro is an obvious flirt under the influence. You’ve heard the stories of him, teasing and lightheartedly flirting with the cast and crew after a couple of drinks. Stupid, corny comments and lots of touching with no clear intent behind it. Maybe that's what he's doing, maybe it's just an offhand sentiment, a product of his lingering intoxication.

“I don’t know… I don’t think so. But I did drink almost an entire bottle of wine, and that was only 6 or so hours ago.” He runs a hand through his scraggly, unkempt curls. “Why?”

The compiling list of questions run circles in your head as you attempt to formulate some kind of comprehensible answer.

“I suppose… well... I was just…” you fumble, picking at your already tattered cuticles. “I guess I just want to…. Were you serious?”

“About what? Taking you to a farm?”

A half smile slowly appears on the left side of his lips, an expression of an almost amusement. Heat races to your cheeks in an instant.

“Of course I was," he responds, nonchalantly but with a genuine earnest. “I really like being with you. Farm or otherwise. Drunk or sober.”

A wave of goosebumps erupts across your skin like a forest fire. You instinctively clench your fists to bear through the surging sensation in your chest, the feeling somehow distressing and euphoric at the same time.

You decide to play along, push a little further, despite your better judgment.

“So, if you could choose anywhere to take me, where would we go?”

You lay your head back on the pillow behind you and hold the phone high above your head. The senseless part of you carefully angles a peek of cleavage in the bottom left corner, just enough to hopefully warrant a quick glance. 

And glance he does.

Not once, but twice. The first one is almost instinctual, like a natural reaction to something new and foreign coming into his line of sight. You see his eyes widen slightly and immediately dart back up to meet your gaze. He smiles, a nervous smile, and reaches a hand up to run his thumb along the wiry salt and pepper of his jaw.

Now, the second glance is definitely intentional. As his eyes lower, his smile falls into slightly parted lips. It’s akin to gawking, the way his eyebrows raise and his pupils explode. You watch as his fingers curl and press deep into his jawline as he takes a small portion of his lower lip into his teeth and bites.

Seconds pass, achingly slow, and he seems to be entirely elsewhere.

Suddenly his body jolts and his eyes return to yours once more, a flustered pink painting his cheeks. You can feel a prickly heat spreading down your neck and across your chest, a plethora of contradicting thoughts and feelings bouncing rapidly in your head.

"Well, it’s hard to pick just one," his thick fingers lay flat against his cheekbone as he ponders. "There’s quite a few I’ve thought of showing you.”

You curl your toes as another surge of anxious excitement obliterates your nervous system.

“Well, how about a top three then?"

After about ten seconds of deep pondering, his eyes light up.

“There’s this juice place that I’ve been really liking. They have a fruit juice with plum in it, it made me think of you. I bet you’d like it.”

You ball the sheet beneath your hand into your fist, your knuckles surely painted white with the sheer force of it. The thought of him… thinking about you, wanting you to be there with him, makes you ache with pure adoration. You’ve had daydreams like that hundreds of times, trips for coffee or takeout, holding hands, sharing the little things, weaving your way into each other's lives.

“I definitely want to take you to my favorite deli in New York. I still can’t believe you’ve never had a fuckin’ bagel sandwich. That’s just… just wrong.”

The memory floats into your mind; The gasp that left his mouth when you told him was damn near cartoonish. He lectured you for at least five minutes straight as you tried not to laugh, your lips pressed tightly together, tears welling at the corners of your eyes. 

“And definitely Spain. I just feel like you’d blossom there. It’d be beautiful to see. Plus, I miss it. If it weren’t for work I’d stay there forever.”

The statement hangs in the air for a bit, not in a stale and brooding way, but more like a wispy cloud passing between you. Your mind goes still and is washed clean with a warm, velvet enchantment.

All of your useless anxieties melt under the gentle heat of his unwavering gaze, his words so tender, so utterly astonishing to hear from the mouth of a man. It’s often hard to believe that he’s real, like somehow everything you’ve ever wanted in a lover and friend came wrapped up in the Adonis masterpiece that is him.

The profound worry that plagues you, incessant since the day that the already precarious line between friends and lovers have been blurred, is really just a deep-rooted fear. Fear that you’ll lose him, fear that things will change, an irrevocable leap could irreversibly damage one of the most meaningful connections you’ve ever experienced. If you could just know what he is thinking, exactly what he is thinking, maybe the violent kick in your stomach that seems to accompany every flirtatious interaction with the man would finally leave you be.

Images of Spain waltz through your mind, of sundresses and fresh fruit, music, dancing, exquisite wine and food to die for. Bare feet sinking into warm sand, Pedro trailing close behind you with a camera in hand, capturing you as you blossom.

“Those all sound really, really lovely," you gush, allowing the grin that’s been repeatedly tugging at the corners of your lips to grow wide and toothy across your face. "I’ve always wanted to go abroad. Hey, if you ever need a hairdresser overseas, you know who to call.”

You catch a glimpse of yourself on your screen, your eyes twinkling and a soft glow washed over the apples of your rounded cheeks. You look positively enamored, entirely lovestruck, and you honestly couldn't care less.

“Where do you want to go most in the world?” his voice softens further as he rests a hand on his cheek, cozying himself against the arm of the couch.

The phone is inches from his face, likely because he misplaced his glasses, as he so often does. His eyes have that slight downturn, the innermost part of his brows raised slightly upward and inward, his irises catching every glint of the headlights passing by his window. The movement of the sparkle, along with the rich chocolate hue illuminated in its presence, leaves you struggling to form a coherent sentence. 

“I... I think..." you stutter, closing your eyes for a few seconds to collect your thoughts. "I think I'd want to go to Greece. It’s a bit ridiculous, but I had a phase in my childhood where I was completely obsessed with Greek mythology. There are so many things I want to see there. And the photos I’ve seen… I just really want to experience that energy. It looks like it has a kindness to it, I can’t really explain what I mean by that... I just can feel it, you know?”

“You don’t have to explain, I know what you’re saying. Things are more gentle there," He speaks softly, his eyes decorating themselves with delicate crinkles and lines as his lips curl into an upward crescent. "The energy honestly kind of reminds me of you. Your… lightheartedness.”

“You think I’m gentle? And lighthearted?” you let out a hearty laugh, entirely spurred by your surprise.

You’ve never viewed yourself that way, at least from the outside looking in. Most of your life you've felt very coarse, gentleness not ever coming naturally to you.

When you grow up in a larger body, every single thing you do feels too big, too clumsy, too loud, every action feels like it should be followed up by an apology for simply existing. The world tries its darnedest to shrink you, to diminish your presence and lock you into a cage of shame, the only key to escape being a success in the pursuit of thinness. You’ve done endless internal work to break free from that prison, to allow yourself the freedom to be yourself unabashedly and throw a middle finger to the consequences.

But you have to admit, a part of you has always wanted to feel delicate.

It’s not that you want to shrink yourself, it’s quite the opposite. You want to be utterly yourself, and you want someone to actually see the gentleness that lives there. Through all the noise, the rowdiness, the bellowing laughter. Through the rough exterior, you want someone to find the soft woman that lives inside of you and love her delicately.

“Yes!” Pedro exclaims with wide, passionate eyes. “Well, not in a way that indicates weakness. No, you’re definitely a powerful woman."

His irises shift up, searching for words as he continues to play with his beard.

"You don’t let the world harden you. Your gentleness is resilient to… bullshit, I guess. You stay open. And not only that, but you stay playful too. Lighthearted. I admire that about you."

The words land like a grenade to the chest, the sensation coursing through your body completely unfamiliar. It’s almost agonizing, yet completely painless. Your veins must be vibrating, and you can hear the whoosh your blood flowing to and from your heart as it knocks violently about your ribcage. 

You instinctively deflect as you attempt to bear through the absolute tsunami of emotions currently drowning you.

“P! Jesus, please!" you let out a fake gag, then another, speaking between each retch. "Too... many... compliments."

His hearty laugh booms through your shitty iPhone speakers, the sound of it crackling through the phone causing you to break from your performance, your unruly cackle echoing off the walls of your room. You only egg him on as he laughs harder and harder, eventually nothing but a wheeze escaping from his lungs. Your stomach burns as tears start to roll down your cheeks, and every attempt at steadying yourself only results in you completely losing it again.

You finally catch your breath, doubled over and clutching for dear life at your abdomen. 

“I’ve missed you.” he mumbles through a heavy breath.

“I… I’ve missed you too.” you whisper back, just audible enough that you’re certain he can hear.

An inquisitive expression washes over his face, before he springs into an upright position.

“Well, we’ll have to do something about that then. Are you hungry?”

Does he mean… now?

“I mean… I could eat. Why?”

“If I come and get you, will you go get a burger with me? I’m having a craving.”

A pang of excitement explodes in your belly. Shit, of course you need to change, tame the current state of your hair, and honestly you could even use a shower. Some of the particularly heated scenes in Bridgerton caused you to break a sweat.

And, there’s no way in hell you’re going to let Pedro pick you up in his half-drunken state. 

“I’m not letting you drive wine drunk, P. I’ll come get you," you announce, surprising yourself with your sudden assertiveness. "Send me your location, I’ll see how far you are from me.”

You suppose your tendency to take care of others triumphs over your jitters in this moment.

“Um… I… don’t... think I know how to do that.” he furrows his eyebrows with confusion as he focuses diligently on his screen. 

Old man.

You’re able to walk him through it, but not without a proper teasing that he doesn’t know how to use his phone.

“Oh, ok, you’re like 25 minutes from me. I can swing that.”

You wonder if he can see through your facade, your pressed efforts at being nonchalant. Because truth be told, you’d drive for hours if he asked.

“Be ready, ok? I’ll see you soon.”

.   .   .   .   .

You’ve never gotten ready that fast in your life. You were able to assemble your hair into messy-yet-stylish fashion, apply a speedy coat of mascara and brow gel, spritz yourself with a subtle perfume and throw on an "I was just planning on sleeping in this" yet cute outfit. All in roughly… five minutes?

Now you’re dangling out of your car, throwing things about so Pedro can actually sit on the passenger’s seat. You’ve managed to wrangle up all of the various empty coffee cups and receipts floating around on the floor, and you cross your fingers that with the seat all the way back he'll have enough leg room.

He’s seen your car plenty of times, seen the mess that always seems to accumulate despite weekly clean outs, but he's never actually been inside. For some reason it feels very personal to drive him somewhere, to let him inside your car though you're sure he's used to far more luxurious modes of travel. But alas, here you are preparing to pick him up, and it makes you so nervous that your hands tremble.

You finally sink down into the velour fabric behind the wheel and select a playlist to keep you company. You choose the one with the most songs you can sing along to, anything to release an ounce the unidentifiable buzz swarming through your veins.

You can't help but chuckle at yourself, the fervid state of your mind and body absolutely laughable in its dramatics. Yes, of course you’re excited to see him in person. There are so many little things you miss. It’s been almost four months since you've heard the roar of his bellowing laugh in person. You miss the weight of his palm stabilizing himself on your shoulder as he crashes his head into you, the sounds escaping his throat akin to that of a tea kettle that's reached a boil. That was often a daily occurrence, the two of you overcome with giggles, holding on to each other for dear life, unable to catch your breath or maintain any sort of upright posture. You miss the morning coffee runs that left you scrambling for time while Pedro innocently sipped his six-shot monstrosity of a beverage, knowing full well it was his fault because he needed his espresso. You miss the feeling of his hair, how it would glide along your hands, intertwined in your fingers, yours to bend and mold in exactly the way you needed. You miss how he'd soften and slouch under your touch when you'd softly massage his scalp, how his shoulders would sink and his head would roll about like it was attached by an overcooked noodle. You miss the way his scent would fill the trailer and linger slightly after he would leave, the air laced with spice and wood and leather…

You sing to distract yourself, tapping complex rhythms on the back of the steering wheel with considerable force, trying to channel your giddy quivering out of your body through the tips of your fingers. The headlights of the cars in front of you shine and splinter in your vision like a supernova, and it soothes you just a bit, just enough to stop visibly shaking.

Somehow you arrive to the pin Pedro sent you in once piece. You haphazardly park on the dimly lit street and bounce your knee endlessly as you wait. You give yourself one more mist of perfume, the sweet scent wafting through the air in the car.

You need to just get a fucking… grip...

A loud bang jolts every bone in your body, your heart nearly leaping through the bones of your sternum and onto the black leather of the dash. Your head snaps to the left to see two flat palms and a thick pair of foggy black frames pressed up against the driver’s side window.

Idiot.

You open your door to hear his proud laughter echoing down the empty street. Before you can berate him, he pulls you into a tight hug, his strong hands grasping at the softness of your hips. The two of you spin around in the street, your arms still wrapped around each other, your legs doing something resembling a waddle back and forth. A prickly warmth spreads throughout you, radiating from the very center of your chest. 

He pulls away to examine you, his palm resting gently on your right shoulder, where it seems to fit just perfectly. His smile softens as your eyes meets his, the street lights creating a freckled glimmer in his deep brown irises.

“I should punch you for scaring me like that,” you murmur, feeling suddenly bashful under his unwavering gaze, fixed on you like you’re the only other person in the world. 

“You should, but you won’t,” he winks and gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Now come on, I’m starving.”

He opens the driver’s side door for you with a satisfied grin and guides you into the car, his hand resting gently on the small of your back. His fingers shift, slipping just beneath the hem of your shirt and brushing against your bare skin.

Your knees nearly buckle.

You grip the steering wheel as you lower yourself into the seat and squeeze, straining to bear through the sudden panging need in lower belly. Jesus, you’re far too touch-starved for your own good. 

Pedro slams his body weight into the passenger’s seat, causing your car to bounce a few times from the recoil. You jokingly shoot him a look of disgust and he throws his head back, cackling and reaching over the console to smack you in the arm.

“God, just put the address in my phone you idiot!” you exclaim through your own chuckles. He snags your phone from your extending hand and begins searching on your maps app.

He has on his purple Laker’s shirt and some black athletic shorts. The shorts are the perfect length, showcasing just enough of his thigh to garner a bit of attention but not so much that you can't keep your focus elsewhere. He paired the outfit with striped socks and sneakers, an almost copy-paste of every casual outfit you've seen him in, very on-brand for his day to day. You once tried to explain the concept of being on-brand to Pedro, but he just went around telling everyone he was “serving brand” for about a week straight. You honestly regret ever teaching him about “serve” in the first place. 

You start to drive, a quiet and comfortable hum falling over the two of you. Your music is still playing, so soft that it's barely audible over the growl of the engine. Pedro reaches to crank the volume, veins protruding on the back of his hand as he turns the knob gently.

“You know how much I love Fleetwood Mac,” he speaks in his low, growling baritone, his scent filling the air and mixing with your lingering perfume, creating a fragrance intoxicating enough to give you a head rush.

You take a beat before responding, transfixed by the width and curve of his fingers and the spiral of ink at the crux of his thumb.

“I know, I picked the playlist with my passenger in mind.”

“Well I won’t subject you to any singing,” he teases. “Since you’re such a music snob.”

“I am not!” You reach over and shove his shoulder. “I have a deep appreciation for good music, that doesn’t make me a snob.”

“Sure… says the girl who was critiquing my playlists every goddamn day.” he shoves you back, this time against your thigh.

“What playlists?! Purple Rain fifteen times in a row is not a playlist,” you jab.

An offended, dramatized gasp fills his lungs before he scoffs ostentatiously, prompting an immediate eye roll from your side of the car.

It’s truly like no time has passed since you last saw each other.

.   .   .   .   .

You plop down into a slightly cramped, cherry red booth in the back corner of a slightly shoddy, time capsule of a diner. The vinyl cushions are cracked and peeling, beige crumbles of the filling erupting from the openings and spilling over. You scoot in carefully, hoping to avoid causing any further damage.

When you'd pulled in to park moments ago, your knee-jerk reaction to the sight of the place was a look of genuine concern. The lot was packed with toxically masculine trucks and seemingly refurbished vintage vehicles, and a hoard of beefy, somewhat terrifying men crowded the entrance in a haze of flickering red light and cigarette smoke.

“Just, trust me, will ya? It’ll be the best burger you’ve ever had," he insisted, shooting a subtle wink and a flash of pearly teeth, glimmering off of the sole street light illuminating the entirety of the parking lot.

He sits down opposite to you, raising his hand to greet the waitress from across the counter with a quick wave. You catch sight of her as her remarkably wrinkled, heavily kohl-lined eyes brighten at the sight of him. Her cherry red lips spread wide across her bony, slightly sullen face. She whispers something to the line cook standing next to her, and then immediately hightails it over to your table.

“S'been a while since we’ve seen you, Mister Pascal, I was startin’ to worry you’d went n' forgot 'bout us! But I know you’re a busy guy n’ all, bein' Hollywood's latest and greatest.”

Her voice is steeped overnight in a viscous southern drawl. It’s so thick that it almost makes the words move slower from her mouth, like they’re coagulating on her tongue on the way out.

“Darlene,” Pedro reaches a hand to grab hers, a tinge of Texan twang tickling the vowels in her name. “You know I can’t stay away from you for too long. And you know better than to call me anything other than Pedro.”

He gives her hand a little squeeze and you watch as the woman melts under his touch. You really can't blame her.

“Now, who is this sweet thing?” Darlene cocks her head slightly in your direction, her eyes still fixed on the cocoa irises gazing back at her.

“This is my… friend,” Pedro smiles, glancing towards you as his dimple indents beneath the bristles of his scruff. “And coworker.” 

“You n' actress, honey?” she diverts her attention to you, her head bobbing slightly with a palpable sass.

“Oh, no, a hairstylist actually,” you explain, inexplicably embarrassed by the implication. “That’s how we met. I did his hair for a more recent project.”

“She’s very talented.” he chimes in. “She managed to make me look like an old man!”

“Darlene, it was one of the easiest jobs I’ve ever had, I’ll tell you that much.”

Pedro attempts to take a jab at your shoulder from across the table, but you duck slightly at just the right moment, his hand colliding with shiny smooth cushion.

Darlene lets out a laugh, one that sounds more like a prolonged smoker’s cough than anything else. She takes down Pedro’s order, the usual, and after a solid minute of convincing from both parties, you decide to go with the same thing. 

Darlene hurries back to the kitchen and leaves you with a hungry-eyed man studying your every move.

“I promise you’re gonna like it. You’re gonna love it. It literally melts in your mouth. Hey—”

He reaches quicker than you can dodge him and his thumb and index finger grab ahold of your chin, slightly squishing your lips together.

“Quit making that face at me! I’m serious, it's really good!” 

Another waitress swings around the corner, dropping off a pot of potent smelling coffee and two mugs, medium-sized and a robin’s egg blue.

“Always good to see you, Pedro.” she speaks in a low rasp, deeper than you'd anticipated from her petite frame and soft features. Pedro shoots her a wink before immediately reaching for the coffee pot.

“I’ll get this in right away for y’all. Anything else I can getcha in the meantime?” Darlene questions.

Pedro meets your gaze as you shake your heads in unison.

“Y'all've a real cute, uh, friendship,” she speaks hesitantly, one of her pencil-thin eyebrows cocked up with suspicion and her ruby lips curled into a smirk. A soft chuckle lilts in her trail as she turns away from you and slinks back to the kitchen.

“This place feels like a fever dream,” you mouth in a hushed tone as you attempt to sip on the scalding coffee in front of you. “Is she… is Darlene real? She doesn’t seem real.”

“Like straight out of a time capsule, right?” he grins.

“How the hell did you find this place?" you question him as you glance around to people-watch, catching sight of the elderly biker couple to your right, decked head to toe in worn black leather, demolishing two double cheeseburgers with reckless abandon.

“An old agent of mine took me here a long time ago. Since I’ve been in LA so much, I just find myself drawn back here,” his disposition softens as he speaks. “Reminds me of home, I guess, I can’t put my finger on why.”

You listen intently as he chronicles stories of New York, letting your fingers unconsciously twirl through your hair, the nasty habit that always seems to return in his presence. It's easy to get lost in the way he muses on about his experiences, like his own trance pulls you along with him into his dream-like state. He speaks with effervescent detail, a syrupy adoration on his tongue with each word that leaves his mouth. You could listen to him talk for hours and hours, utterly entranced by the way he transports you into his world, the lull of his voice like a spoonful of honey.

“Jesus, I’ve been blabbing on and on," he reaches up a hand to scratch behind his ear, a nervous tick you’ve noticed he frequents. "Am I boring you?"

“No no no, hey, you're not boring me," You rest your hand gently on the table, resisting the urge to grab his fidgeting hand and steady him. “You've got a way with words, I honestly feel like I’m right there with you.”

With a brief inhale, his hand falls slowly until it rests atop yours. You silently gasp at the sudden sensation, his touch heedfully delicate as he caresses the back of your hand with his thumb. His eyes are fixed as he wraps the rest of his fingers around and settles them in the crook of your palm. The thump of his pulse echoes yours as he traces up from your knuckles and slowly back to the base of your wrist, drawing a perfect ellipse on your velvety skin, sending goosebumps to riddle every square inch of your body. As your gaze flutters, you catch a glimpse of his face, his lips parted slightly in complete transfixion. You bite down on the inside of your cheek at the sight.

“Alrighty y’all, I go-” Darlene clears her throat as you both jolt violently, your spines simultaneously snapping upright as your hands tear apart. “I… got your burgers here. Just holler if ya need anythin' else.”

She smiles sweetly, a slight smugness tugging at her expression.

An involuntary chuckle escapes you, responding unconsciously to the knotting discomfort you feel in growing in your stomach. You stare unwaveringly at the mass of burger sitting in front of you, cheddar cheese oozing down the sides of the thick patty and spilling onto the plate. The thick veil of tension lies stagnant between you as the knot pulsing in your stomach threatens to snap.

“I’m like… scared of this thing. It’s a bit of a beast.” you murmur uneasily.

“Definitely don’t eat the whole thing. I’ve made that mistake… more than once," he admits, cutting carefully through the gargantuan sandwich down the middle. "I’m honestly amazed I can still enjoy this considering what it’s done to my stomach in the past. Here—"

He reaches across the table, cutting yours into perfect halves with conscious diligence.

"S'a lot easier to eat this way."

A flush creeps across your cheeks, the same sentence repeating in your head like a skip on a broken CD.

Why does he have to be so fucking thoughtful?

.   .   .   .   .   

“I can’t… breathe properly. It hurts.” Pedro blabbers as he trudges himself from the restaurant, his hand clutching at his stomach as he groans in pain.

“Girl, I warned you to stop after you ate the half!”

After a third and some of the fries you were toast, and you by no means have a small appetite.

“Do I need to help you to the car? Have we gotten to that point?” you manage through a bout of laughter.

“Leave me alone!” he grunts, nearly doubled over at this point, shuffling toward the car with visible strain. 

You sling his arm over your shoulder despite his protests, and let him lean a decent amount of his weight into you. 

“I look like I’m drunk off of my ass,” he mumbles in your ear as you approach the passenger door. You open it for him and gesture your hand.

“Don't worry princess, I'll get you home safe.” you quip through a teasing smile, almost immediately followed by a shrill cackle.

He gives you a protesting shove as he plops down weakly into the seat. 

You don't really want to take him home. Part of you wants to just drive for hours, listen to more of his musings, keep teasing and laughing and wearing out the energy lingering from your multiple cups of coffee coursing through your system. Maybe you could park in an empty lot and watch the sun come up. You just want to be with him, stay with him, just a little while longer.

But you know him. He’s busy. Always busy. Press tours, talk shows, auditions, meetings, he's never not booked for some sort of event. And of course he's never well rested, a borderline insomniac, and you'll be damned if you keep him from the sleep you know he desperately needs.. You shove down your selfish desire and set course back to town.

“I’m takin’ you home, you poor thing,” you turn the key in the ignition and pop the headlights on, a wash of yellowish-white beaming over the vintage vehicles and motorcycles parked in front of you. "You really should be in bed anyways."

“You know I don’t need sleep,” he teases, his body slumped over and his head looming fairly close to your body. With a quick peek, you find him glancing longingly at your right shoulder, as if he is using nothing but sheer willpower to stay upright and not rest his head on your bare skin. 

“It's alright,” you whisper in a moment of understanding. You pat your shoulder twice, lightly, hoping he’ll register what you mean. “Rest.”

His head crooks up at you, clearly surprised, but with a soft and sweetened gaze. It’s almost as if his eyes are saying “thank you” and “are you sure?” in the same puppy dog expression. You nod slightly, a reassuring smile curling the corners of your lips.

He lets the top of his head settle in the crook of your neck as his cheek rests gently on your shoulder, his scruff tickling at the skin there. The tension in his body is evident, the muscles in his neck stiff and straining and his hands gripped together tightly in his lap. Quickly you fish your phone from your pocket and scroll through your music, finding your "cheaper than xanax" playlist before turning out of the parking lot. 

The two of you stay silent, but not an uncomfortable and brooding silence. It feels meditative, almost like a single word would eradicate the solace you’re sharing amongst the hum and glow of the golden street lights. Minutes pass and you feel his breathing start to slow and deepen as he finally allows the full weight of his head to sink into you. You quietly begin to hum along to the soothing song that is playing, unable to remember the last time you felt so at peace.

Because that’s the thing about Pedro. He feels like peace.

If you void all of the external factors, his hectic schedule, the blur of professionalism, the enigmatic feelings and moments of anxious uncertainty… none of it truly matters when it boils down to the core of who you are. You just fit together, inexplicably, undeniably, effortlessly. You can talk for hours, god knows, but quiet settles in just as easily, the pressure to perform completely eradicated in each other's presence. In moments like these, being with him feels like being wrapped in a warm comforter, fresh out of the dryer. You can just… be. He sees you, you see him, and you can take comfort in knowing the other is there, and no one is expected to break the silence. 

He falls asleep by the end of the first song and stays dormant on your shoulder the whole drive home. Your chest starts to ache as you turn onto his street. The last thing you want right now is to watch him leave without any idea when you’ll see him again.

You give his hand a little shake and whisper his name into his ear. He groans softly and nuzzles into your skin, the prickle of his mustache tickling the delicate skin of your shoulder. You shake a little harder this time, more of a gentle shove. He inhales deeply as his eyes flutter open.

“You're home,” you speak softly.

He sits himself upright slowly, his hair vertical on the side he was resting against you. You unconsciously reach to smooth the mess for him, a habit you fell into after doing it so often in between takes during filming. He leans into your hand, ever so slightly, his eyes droopy and blinking sluggishly.

“I missed that, you know,” he admits, his voice laced with sleep. “You, fixing my… mess.” He motions to his tousled curls.

You missed it too, the way he would always hum deeply when your fingers ran across his scalp. You missed the way he would always say “Better?” once you seemed satisfied with the adjustment. He loved to tease your perfectionism, and especially loved to try and tousle your hair back. 

You miss every minute. 

“Me too,” you reply demurely. “Now, you better go to bed once you get upstairs. I won’t have your sleep-deprived grumpiness getting blamed on me.”

“We’ll see. I haven’t fallen asleep that fast in months. Twice in a row would be a miracle," he chuckles. He unfastens his seatbelt and lets out a deep, bellowing yawn. “Now, come give me a hug.”

You oblige through your slight haze, stepping out as he meets you by the driver’s side and wraps himself around you, his arms finding their familiar spot and his hands resting perfectly on the small of your back. You allow yourself to hang gently from his shoulders as you lightly nuzzle your nose into his neck, tipsy on the intoxicating scent of him.

You stay like that, for a moment, until Pedro places a small kiss on your temple.

The warmth of it lights you up in your entirety. You manage to untether yourself from him as you stomach does a flip, and then another, and another. When you meet his gaze, he smiles gently as he unravels himself from you, your arms falling to your sides, completely limp.

“Thank you for indulging me. I promise next time I’ll only eat half,” he laughs quietly to himself as he lazily paces backwards across the pavement. “Goodnight, sweet plum.” 

“Goodnight,” you simper, your bones growing more flimsy with the passing of each second.

Every time he calls you that, sweet plum, you feel as though you could melt into his arms and he'd hold you like a puddle in his hands.

He turns away and walks towards the entrance to his building, but not without looking back to glance at you one more time. You offer a pitiful wave as he grins from ear to ear, waving again with a quick wink. You stay as he slips through the door, down the hall, and then he’s gone.

Through a sudden bout of dizziness, you manage your way back to the driver’s seat. You turn the key in the ignition, fasten your seatbelt, and start to drive away, a singular thought looping through your mind on repeat.

He kissed you. He kissed you. He kissed you.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

chapter five

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #plus size reader #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #the last of us

[filmbyjy]

COLLIE DUTY

SYNOPSIS > being the new CEO to the ‘Sim Corp’ was hard and stressful. jake didn’t have much time to spend with layla and so he decides to get a dogsitter, you. though, you were originally already his secretary. how will dog sitting bring you two closer?

FOURTEEN - angry puppy pt 1

WARNING: slight suggestive, maybe there’s angst. goddamn, idk if this practically suggestive or more😳👍🏻

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

a/n: this is the first part but I’ll just upload the second part later on for suspense🥰

jake was shock. frozen even. too speechless.

he was just about to go inside the file room to find the file he needed for new project he had in mind. when he stumbled upon you and jay making out in a secluded corner of the room. he hid behind the rows of cabinets. watching in horror, maybe slight jealousy too.

it was the way jay’s arms wrapped around your waist as he pins you against the wall. your hands wrapped around jay’s neck. jake could spot the faint red marks right on your neck. which wasn’t intended but jay was getting too into the kiss that he forgot about what you warned him before. at least it made this whole thing more believable (?).

jay’s hand slips down to pull you slightly closer and jake could hear you gasping slightly. you tugged on jay’s hair as the kiss progress (if you could even call it a kiss honestly). you and jay pulled back a little before diving back in. you couldn’t deny, jay was an awesome kisser and he knew how to make your knees buckle.

jake knew he shouldn’t be there but for some odd reason, he felt some sort of anger bubble in him. a rage even. he didn’t want to stay but something was telling him to barge there and pry jay off you. was this some beast messing with him? at last, jake left. he couldn’t watch further. which also when you and jay pulled away.

“he was watching us, wasn’t he?” jay asks as he was still catching his breath. his breathing heavy and his lips were swollen.

“yeah. he definitely was.” you say.

“mmm, I never knew you could kiss like that. jake would 100% kill to kiss you after seeing us.” jay smirks. you whacked jay’s arm.

“shut up. also didn’t I tell you not to bite me?”

“it’s essential in every makeout. besides, I was in the mood. you can’t stop this sexy beast in me.” jay proudly says. you rolled your eyes.

“okay, mr.sexy beast. let’s get back to work.” you were about to leave when jay pulls you back and traps you against the wall.

“just one more? maybe you should help me out too.” he suggestively looks down. you found it extremely hot that he did that.

you sighed, “yeah yeah. This isn’t the most appropriate place.”

“as if jake didnt get sucked off in his office. Come on, think of it as a good revenge.”

“fine, you better hush.”

“no guarantees.” jay winks.

you had went back to work as per normal and so did jay. what startled you as soon as you sat down was jake. the stern voice that echoed through the halls.

“meet me in my office, now.” he says not even leaving a chance for you to say anything.

you did as you were told and went to his office straight. As soon as you arrived in his office, it was like a predator watching its prey. jake’s eyes followed your every movement closely.

“sit.” he commands. it sent a shiver down your spine. you knew jake wasn’t that strict but to hear his strict (and dominant) voice, it kinda scared you.

“umm, yes Mr.Sim?”

“I want you to stop coming to work and focus on taking care of Layla in my apartment. I’ll send the files you need to review and you can fix up my schedule in my home.”

“but Mr.Sim-”

“do you understand?” he sternly says.

“yes, Mr.Sim.”

“now, please go ask the fashion department to submit their files as I need to review them.”

you quickly left the office with no complaints, you didn’t want to anger jake any further and so you went straight to the fashion department to grab the files he wanted.

-

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[hemeruni]

Well. Here’s what I’ve been planning on doing… I’d like to introduce you all to-

The FIRST ANNUAL tumblr User hemeruni direct, a special event where I get to actually go into more detail about the projects I’m currently more so focused on, while giving important news to what’s next on our menus.

Now let’s go ahead and get this show rolling shall we?

NURSE PHILLY UPDATES

As you know, Nurse Philly has been placed on the back burner for a while as I took the time to work on my other projects. But, starting today, I’m working full speed ahead to officially get the Askblog up and rolling! The scripting process has been tough, but a rough outline has been finished and a overall timeline of arcs and events are all laid out, so it shouldn’t be long for you all to see the nurse in person!

I’m not the type to give out dates, but expect this hush puppy to start around mid-late 2024.

Alright we’re getting the hang of things! What’s next?

GLIMMERLOVE NEWS

This project started as a one off post that quickly spiraled into one of my favorite projects thus far under the hemeruni brand. While there isn’t plans to get a Askblog rolling anytime soon, the askbox will always be open for asking questions to these mysterious folk.

This project doesn’t have much besides that, but if things change revolving my work ethic, I’ll surely consider it.

No date on this one, as it’s currently in a fine state from where I’m seeing it.

HAPPY HATCHDAY HEMMY!!!

By the time I’m writing this, Hemera’s birthday is still ongoing and it might honestly been the most exciting days I’ve had in a long time, considering the fact that I’ve just… haven’t been active as much.

This fox means so much to me and I have Sparklecare and only Sparklecare to thank for creating such a wonderful creature that deserves everything wonderful on this blue marble of a planet.

I love you Hemmy, don’t stop being you.

Me and Uni are making a coffee shop au

Yeah idk what else to say

It’s news to me but I’m just posting this since I thought the idea was funny.

Personal au?? I think?? Only WE get to make one not YOU /J

Now. I mentioned something at the beginning of the whole thing about a change that is going to happen. Before we end this, I might as well say what I want to say.

The Future.

I’m breaking away from this community, for my own mental sake. I’m saying this with a heavy heart, knowing that this whole 'fame' thing isn’t something I enjoy. Besides fame, I’ve been so caught up in comments and reblogs that it mentally drains me to see one post that I spent less time on doing better then one I actually put my effort into.

This culminated in a unfollow from the official Sparklecare account that I’m still assuming is over the criticblog situation. Nevertheless, it left me bed ridden for weeks, realizing that what I worked so hard for was taken from my own dumb mistake.

That taught me a valuable lesson though, which is why I’m finally deciding to just cut contact with the community entirely, besides friend groups and servers I’m in you won’t really see me active on my main, mostly just au updates.

That also means I’m no longer reblogging stuff to my main account, but I’ve already came up with a solution revolving a account called hemerunireblogs (which will be linked later down the line)

That’s the most you’ll see me interacting with this community, I hope you can understand.

Now.

We’ve reached an absolute.

The End.

I wish things could’ve been different, but it’s either I continue down this path and further ruin myself for others sakes, or I finally start to work on myself again. In the end, I decided to choose myself. Call me selfish, I could care less.

For some, I’d like to wish the best, even though we may have not talked much, I’d love to see you again sometime soon.

You all have been a wonderful audience, I hope you all had a wonderful Hemmy Hatchday. Good afternoon, good evening, and goodnight my friends.

-Mx. Hemmy

#my art #sparklecare #hemera philly #hemeruni #uni cornelius #nurse philly #Glimmerlove au #text post #ramblings #long post

[lovedrots]

hii! i love your work :) how about peter x stark!reader where y/n and flash are forced to be partners for a project but peter gets adorably jealous over the whole thing <3

ii. what he doesn't have

ii .  what  he  doesn’t  have -  p.p. x stark!reader

synopsis : being a stark means that almost everyone is chasing after you for schoolwork help, being a “genius’s” daughter. so, what happens when you happen to be paired for a project with the one and only flash thompson – with your boyfriend, peter parker, in the same class?

warnings : mild swearing, insecure pete :(, flash being a bully as always

a/n : thank you for the compliment and request, angel! i’ve tried my best to get our boy’s insecure and jealous side down, but please bear with me if it’s off at all. ps; it may be a little rushed? <3

word count : 2,737

all you’ve known since you were a kid were luxuries, crime-scenes, and a fair share of booksmarts. all thanks to your surname; stark.

yeah, a part of you enjoyed the whispers of awe, the freebies you got when you were out. but school? that was a whole other situation in itself. 

you were constantly surrounded and berated by students, offering cash, – as if you needed any more – snacks, their souls, for you to do their projects, finals, or homework for them. though you could understand where they came from, it did nothing to soothe your anxiety and annoyance. 

the only thing that did help, was your boyfriend. peter benjamin parker.

each morning he awaited you at your locker, doe-eyes locked onto you like you were the moon and sun. under his gaze, everything melted away, and you felt as if you were wrapped in a freshly washed blanket. 

but, lets not get ahead of ourselves. after all, every relationship, no matter how loving, comes with its downsides. you and peter’s? 

jealousy. 

when you weren’t spending every moment of every day together, peter would watch you as you got flocked by hopeful, puppy-loving boys and girls. though you’d always proudly shown your boyfriend off to the world, it didn’t exactly stop the declarations of ‘love’ from rolling in.

and today was really no different. you and peter walked hand-in-hand down the halls of midtown high, floating above everyone else, whispering in each others ears, grins plastered on your faces. to everyone else, it looked as though you were exchanging compliments, words of romance. 

but, what you were really discussing?

what the two of you wanted to research for today’s announced chemistry project. 

“what about the fritz harber’s experiments?” you offered, wrecking your brain for ideas. you knew that your teacher would provide everyone lists of suggestions, but you had always preferred to think of something on your own. the lists were your fallback plan. 

“that feels more like a history subject,” he countered, biting his lip. “other than going into detail about chemical warfare – which, again; history – there isn’t much we can do.”

you threw your head back in exasperation, wishing you could fall to the floor then and there. this project had to be perfect. it was your ticket to m.i.t., or any ivy league college, for that matter. 

the two of you volleyed suggestions back and forth, bickering, laughing, and brooding, ‘till you reached the open door to ms. warren’s classroom. peter gave your hand a gentle squeeze, a reassurance. even if it took a few hours of brainstorming, you’d come up with something. you had to.

you strayed from him, taking your assigned seat a few tables away. you weren’t a big fan of the arrangement, but you knew the teacher only wanted the best for you. especially after peter and you had wasted days worths of time whispering to each other, when you should have been paying attention. 

the rest of the class tumbled in as the bell chimed, sitting in their respective corners, voices dialing down to a hush as ms. warren stood, a stack of papers – what you assumed to be the project rubric – in her hands. 

“class,” she curtly nodded. “i believe we all know what today is, yes?”

you all muttered your agreements, shifting in your chairs, eger to get to work. you didn’t have much time to complete it, after all; only a week. normally, you’d get two. or more. 

the lady grinned in approval, thumbing through the stack, pulling out a singular list from the bunch. “now, normally, i would let you guys choose your groups. but, upon recent mishaps,” her eyes narrowed to two boys, who had caused a minor fire while goofing off in class during the last project, “i’ve taken … extra precautions. i’ve decided to arrange partners by last name. if all goes well, you can return to your normal pairs.”

you shot up in year seat, alarms going off in your head. you and peter’s eyes met at the same moment, both of you pouty and distraught. this would be one of the first projects you would do separately. 

the teacher began reading off a list of names, passing out yellow-print rubrics as she brushed between tables.

you fiddled with the bent edge of your paper, waiting for her to near the ‘s’ section. 

what didn’t occur to you, was that you were the only ‘s’ in the class.

“eugene – flash – thompson, and y/n stark,” she went on until she hit the end of the list with a click of her tongue. she found her way back to her desk, sitting cross-legged upon her plush seat. before any of your peers could whine in protest, she waved her finger, eyes shooting daggers. or, more accurately, threats of an ‘F’ on your papers. “if i hear any one of you complain, i won’t hesitate to try this experiment again,”

needless to say, the lot of you shut up.

“off you go,” she announced with the wave of her hand. off you went, indeed; the classroom was a mess, students trying to find their partners – some even struggling to figure out who, exactly, they were paired with. it was a frenzy.

but, it was no issue for you. 

how could it be, when you were with the flamboyant, arrogant, rather bastardous flash. you’d despised him ever since liz’s house party, when he had publicly made a fool of poor peter parker. you were a tad bit annoyed at ned, too – but that was a different story. ned was still one of your best friends. but flash? god, he was just a bully. 

you slid into the seat next to him, and though you met his gaze, your eyes were anything but kind. “listen here eugene,” you huffed, “i’m just here to get our work done. this does not mean i see you as anything more than trash.”

flash scoffed, as though to cover up the fact that he was (very obviously) butt-hurt. “i don’t need to hear that from someone with penis-parker. it’s flash, by the way. not eugene.”

you chuckled, fiddling with the end of your number two pencil. “right, sorry eugene. but i don’t think you should talk that way to someone with such close contact to your beloved spider-man.”

he puckered his lips, face growing sour. “oh, come on. everyone loves spider-man. he’s awesome. i’m not abnormal, like your boy-toy. unless you’re referring to my good looks and class.” he wiggled his brows, and though it wasn’t his intent, you only cackled louder at his unwavering cockiness. 

earning a glance from peter. 

the poor boy, already brooding from ms. warren’s new arrangement, seemed to deflate further. he couldn’t exactly pick up what you were talking about. all he saw was your face lighting up, laughing at – what he assumed to be – a stupid joke made by his bully. 

throughout the period, you and flash bickered to no end. poking fun at each other's hair, clothes, even your friends. though you both had malicious intent, peter couldn’t help but catch flash slipping up; his hand lingering next to yours, even when you pushed him away, calling you silly nicknames, though you angrily told him to stop. the way he brushed the hair out of your face, before you swatted his hand away, threatening to chop his beloved body parts off. the whites of your boyfriend’s knuckles showed, him wishing he could simply pounce off the walls and leave a bruise on the other’s sad mistake of a face. 

when the bell rung, you didn’t hesitate to hop off the chair quick as lighting, snatching up your notebook and pens. you didn’t even bother to bid flash good-bye, even when he extended a card with his number plastered in gold letters. 

a card that you ignored. what sort of stuck-up kid carried a fake business card with them? 

slinging your backpack over a shoulder, you skipped over to pete, mindlessly taking his hand; a habit you gathered a month into dating. he seemed to squeeze your fingers tighter than usual, and though you thought nothing of it, it didn’t stop you from noticing as you left the school house.

on the way back to peter’s apartment, the boy seemed awfully quiet. he even refused to look you in the eye, syrup-brown eyes gazing into storm drains, or up at street lamps. though, they seemed so far off, as if he wasn’t truly present. you had been chattering on-and-off for the entire ten minute walk home, stopping only when you realized he really wasn't content on responding, no matter how many times you called his name. for someone whose senses were dialed to, like, two hundred, he sure was good at ignoring situations.

you had iterated the same question six times to him, before you gave up, your grip on his hand growing tighter, as if you were afraid he would let go.

reaching his loft number, he unlocked the front door, calling out for aunt may.

not home. likely getting takeout, he had suggested gruffly. 

peter dropped his bag down next to yours, making a beeline for his bedroom; the room you’d spent so many sleepless nights together in. 

you followed him, hand colder now that he let you go. “pete, are you okay?” you asked gently, sitting next to him on the bed, your shoulders touching. the boy moved impossibly closer, burying his face in the crook of your neck, arms encircling your waist. 

he was only this needy after a bad day.

“peter?” you whispered, lips pulled into a frown. “hey, talk to me. did i do something? you know you can tell me anything. i won’t look down on you.”

“you will,” he responded, pulling his head back to look at you, at last. his usually soft eyes seemed sharper, sculpted with anger. “it’s – it’s not you i’m angry with. flash; he should know who you belong to. not that you’re an object! i just – i just can’t. i can’t watch him take the only thing that i have to myself. he shouldn’t have been touching you, your hands, your face –” 

your stare softened, cupping his pouting face in both your hands. ‘that’s what this fuss is about? flash? i knew it was a special case. these things happen wayyy to much for it to have just been normal jealousy.”

he leaned into your touch, nodding as he pressed his lips to the palm of your hand. “he gets everything he wants. and people don’t even actually like him! he’s mean, and annoying, and …” his voice broke, and with it, so did your heart. “you’re the only thing of mine that he doesn’t have.”

his sniffles had you wiping salty tears from his pink cheeks, the once harsh gaze in his eyes now soft. sad. “you know how i feel about flash. he’s a total bitch.”

“but you laughed with him. i’m telling you; he’s trying to take you, to get to me. and he’s better, in more ways than one. he’s rich. confident.” 

“laughed with him?” you breathed a ghost of a giggle. “pete, i was laughing at him. the idiot’s the most hypocritical, egotistical ass in the world. even my dad couldn’t beat him there. and, why would i ever need his wealth?”

“... you’ve got a point,” peter huffed, sucking on his teeth. “but he touched you … still …”

“and i told him off for it,” you shrugged, thumbs rubbing his cheekbones. “you know i wouldn’t let anyone else do that with me.”

“y/n, am i stupid? for getting jealous?” he asked meekly, swallowing the lump in his throat. he’d been pondering the question during the walk home, shutting out all noise in the process. after all, you had rejected his enemy’s moves bluntly. you hadn’t even accepted his phone number. but it still bugged him. he knew you wouldn’t ever leave him for eugene thompson of all people, but having anyone show romantic interest in you was like a knife to the heart. 

your brows narrowed. “stupid? no, pete, never. that guy’s the dumb one, for ever thinking he had a chance against you,” you scoffed. “i mean, he has a mustache, for thor’s sake.”

the joke lured a gurgle of a laugh from your companion. “thank’s, y/n/n,” he murmured, bringing his face closer to yours, inch by inch.

when his lips captured yours, you savored it. if you hadn’t been sitting, you would have collapsed, your knees feeling so week at his touch. it was different, this time. normally, his kisses were sweet, short. endearing. but in that moment, it was greedy, almost devouring, as if he was happy to simply drown in the essence of you. he tasted like blueberry pie, and you were more than eager to explore it all, the fluttering in your stomach something you could never get used to, and –

“you kids home?” a feminine voice called from the corridor. you pounced off of peter, stumbling back, up against his closet. 

“yeah,” he shouted, though his voice was that of a mouse. he looked at you for approval, red blotting his cheeks and nose. you couldn’t help but burst out laughing, the poor guy in front of you very obviously distraught. 

you heard shuffling in the background, plastic bags being undone. “lovely!” may hummed. “i got us tacos. i was going to make a stir-fry, but …”

“it’s fine, may. thank you,” you said through strings of giggles. you offered peter an outstretched hand, which he gratefully took, pulling himself off the bed. you knew he could do it on his own with ease, but the small action touched his heart. 

you laced your fingers through his, leading him into the dining room, takeout boxes neatly unfolded. “is something wrong?” may asked doubtfully, eyeing peter’s puffy eyes and flushed face. you wore a devil’s grin, which your boyfriend could only take as, ‘we’ve got a new story to tell your aunt.’

and there was certainly no backing you down. 

the rest of the night was spent on the three of you laughing over your dinner, peter pouting as you gleefully exposed his fit only moments ago (making sure to leave out the insecure bits. you weren’t willing to shatter his trust in you, after all).

needless to say, it was 2:45 a.m. by the time peter swung you back to the tower.

a week had passed, and you were exhausted. each meeting you had with flash, the more you seemed to hate the guy. it had gotten to the point where you gave him an ultimatum; if he talked to you about anything that wasn’t related to the project, you would ‘show spidey his fan-accounts.’ specifically, the embarrassing ones, like when he theorized that spider-man was the lovechild of tony stark and some monstrous spider-queen. 

a scene you really didn’t need to visualize, regarding your dad.

and it worked. he stopped touching you, stopped talking to you outside of your class time. he even stopped making fun of peter, when you were around. which was basically all the time.

but now, the two of you were wrapping up your presentation. you had spent hours and sleepless nights on your gadget. even pete had pitched in some help, which you thankfully repaid him for by helping code his own machine.

you dramatically bowed at the end of your speech, earning a laugh from your peers. the last project of the day, finally completed. hopping off the mini-stage, you skittered to your lover, letting him wrap you in an embrace. “i’m so proud of you!” he cheered, ruffling your hair. 

you made a noise similar to whining, ducking to avoid the further messing up of your appearance. “i don’t think anyone could top yours, though.”

he grinned like a little kid, his chest puffing with pride. you were so focused on cooing over him, that you hadn’t noticed your project partner sauntering in your direction. 

“yo, y/n/n! i think we work pretty well together. we sho–”

“don’t talk to my girlfriend,” peter snapped, grip on your silhouette tightening. 

you nodded in approval, rubbing his back. “you tell him, baby,” you sniggered, joyful that your boyfriend had so openly shot down the bastard.

… and, seeing flash’s baffled face was a plus, you supposed. 

#peter parker #peter parker x you #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fic #peter parker x stark!reader #stark!reader #stark!daughter #marvel imagine #mcu fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #mcu #marvel #spiderman x reader #spiderman x you #spiderman x y/n #spiderman #tom!peter x reader #tom!peter parker #tom!spiderman #mcu!peter x reader #mcu!peter parker #mcu!spiderman x reader #tom holland fic #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland fanfiction #tony stark #tony stark fic

[cuddl3s4shur1]

Hey! Can I get a Shuri or Shuriri x reader where the reader has really bad period cramps and she doesn’t want to bother them so she suffers in silence until Shuri and riri find out?

I hope this make sense <3

Have a great day/night!❤️❤️

Of course you can thanks 😊

ㅤㅤ✷ ࣭ ࣪ ˖ ☞ ࣭ ࣪ ᩠ ֗ ✦ ࣭ ࣪ ˖

Why Didn't You Tell Us

Shuriri x Black Fem Reader

Summary: As you become more distant between your girlfriends they wonder why and find out that your on your period.

Warning: Fluff just cute

Series Or Oneshot: Oneshot

Authors Note:Thank you guys for requesting . Also the take time part should be done now . Hold means flashback

Request

Taglist: @tuesdaylovesu(wifey fr) @locoforshuri @letitias-fav @saintwrld @yvxmpire @ziayamikaelson @lunax0654 @writesbyriri @adeola-the-explorer @2k7-sparkles @shuri-my-love @shuriislut @womenlxver @secretgyals @xxmilli @randomhoex @atssukoo @niaalove

(If you want to be added fill out the form)

ㅤㅤ✷ ࣭ ࣪ ˖ ☞ ࣭ ࣪ ᩠ ֗ ✦ ࣭ ࣪ ˖

No Pov

Recently you have became distance between your girlfriends .Why? 1. They had a big project . 2. You didn’t want to interrupt them no matter what was going on. And that was the problem . These cramps where dead ass killing you softly .Another reason why you didn’t bother telling them was because of your mood swings. Oh how they got tired of you and those mood swings .

Y/n’s Pov

Right now you where in your shared bedroom bored and dealing with cramps . You took a bunch of advil but the shit didn’t work.”alright cramps Yall not finna kick my ass”You chucking walking to get some chocolate. A random cramp came out of nowhere and hit you hard. I don’t want the smoke” You say holding your stomach. While with the other opening the fridge . “This Twix bar better work and these chips” You say grabbing the snacks before making your way back to the couch .

You where on the couch silently having pain .No matter how much chocolate and advil you took shit wasn’t working.You even tried google .You scroll looking at what they recommend. “Greens and salmon sounds like a nice out to eat meal sound like I’m finna go get some food “ . You exact the tab and open a new one to search “salmon places near me” you find the nearest location and it had 4.5 stars so it had to be good . You close your tab and get up from the bed. You get your keys and purse off the dresser. You make your way to the living room and put in your black converses .Once your shoes where on you where ready to go.

“Shuri Riri Ms Y/n has entered the lab” griot says as you walk in the doors seeing the 2 building. “Hey Babe “ Riri says looking you up and down. You wore a black shirt and black cargo. Even though you where in your period that didn’t stop your fashion to eat.

(Outfit idea imagine whatever)

“Is there something wrong with my outfit “ you question riri while shuri was stilling doing something. “Nah Just looking at how beautiful my baby is “ she says ending with a smile. “Well I’m going to order some food and I wanted to know what y’all would want .it’s a soul food place” You say realizing shuri still hasn’t even said a hi or wave. “I want ribs and Mac and cheese “ riri says getting back to work”.”I’ll take some catfish ,hush puppies and greens “ Shuri says as she looks at you showing a smile. “Alright see y’all “ you walk out annoyed but you were just happy .

Riri’s Pov

As you exit the lab I sense a mood change . “She definitely just had a mood swing” I say thinking about one thing this could mean. "She on her period" I say looking at shuri. "How do you know" she asks me while looking up."Greens help cramps the mood swings the distance " I say taping my finger in the table." I wonder why she didn't tell us " I question."well lets make it up to her somehow I'll buy her favorites before she comes back" I say getting my purse." Taking the day off? " shuri asks." hell yeah " I respond leaving the lab getting ready to go to a Walmart

Once I got back from the trip to the store I begin to set her basket up. When it came to y/n me and Shuri would often make a basket will all things she enjoyed. She always enjoyed the basket so we kept making them.”did y/n make it home yet “ I ask talking to shuri on the bracelet.”no she should be home in 10” Shuri says making it so I could finish it in time.

I finish the basket and I head back to the lab.Making the basket a somewhat suprise. "Ms Shuri and riri y/n has entered the lab" griot says. "Hey y'all I got the food" she says showing the bag." guess what” I ask her.”what” she questions as she places the food on the lab table . “we’re taking a day off " . “I love you guys so much”she says getting excited.”you guys wanna eat in the room ?” She asks . “Why not “ shuri says . We walk out of the lab making the way to our bedroom.

She opens the door to seeing the basket on the coffee table. “And what is this” she says getting close to the basket . She picks up the letter from the basket .”Dear my love, I haven’t been thinking about you and getting hints that you have started. To help with cramps I made you this basket with everything you love” . She reads the letter and ends walking up giving us both a big hug . “I love y’all but just know y’all shouldn’t have “ she says before letting us go.

Me shuri and y/n have been relaxing an enjoying the food. "Why didn't you want to tell us" shuri asks looking at y/n."Because of what happened last time"

*Flash Back Start*

"Don't talk to me" Y/n says as she hid under the covers. "What did I do" I ask confused. "You know what you did" she says peeping out of the cover. "What did I do" I still ask. "You bought me vegan chocolate" she says whining. "Sorry" I say sitting next to her on the bed . “Sorry dosent cut it and you looking good dosent help me being angry either “ she says getting sassy . “You lucky your on your period” I say with a slight smirk. “Ewww” She says getting back under the covers. “Hey I’m sorry fr fr “ I say whining back at her. “Yeah yeah “ she says as she gives me some cover . “Movie ?” I question her as I get under the cover . “Sure “ She says as she lays on my chest .

*Flashback end*

“Your sassy attitude was finna make it so you couldn’t walk for 3 days but other than that you should’ve told us” I say forming a laugh . “Y’all are right but my attitude that’s something I can’t stop doing gotta live with it tbh “ Y/n says with a chuckle. “Aye just make sure it’s in check when talking to me “ shuri says looking up . “Or what” y/n says smirking and getting closer . “You know what “ Shuri says leaning in talking in a whisper. “Woah there shuri she is on her period “I say stopping them . “ Your safe for now little y/n “ she says ending with a wink.

No Pov

For the rest of the night the three ladies spent time at home . The watched movies played music relaxed and flirt . The three ended the night falling asleep on one another on the couch watching princess and the frog .

Y/n enjoyed the small things they would do such as the basket and enjoyed the day with the 2.

#shuri #shuri fanfiction #black panther wakanda forvever spoilers #shuri udaku #queen shuri #princess shuri #daddy panther #shuriri #shuri x fanfic #shuriri y/n #shuriri x reader #shuri x riri

[theocrabalar]

Modernized XM9: A Metal Gear Solid 2 thought project

This portrayal of the XM9 is now 21 years old, how would we modernize it for use in 2023 and beyond? Let's start with the base gun. The original is a Beretta M9 with an added on manual lock-up from Knight's Armanent Company.

I honestly think with modern suppressors, and ammunition, we can forgo the manual slide lock solution, even tho the Hush Puppy Project exists and they do slide lock conversions for Glocks and M&P slides. Then we can move to an off-the-shelf solution for a pistol; For the proper modernization but keeping the style, I'd look at the Beretta pistols as modified Ernest Langdon at Langdon Tactical Technologies

These particular variants offer the lowest possible mounting of the red dot sight we'll be adding. And comes with suppressor height sights as standard that will allow co-witness through the red dot in the miraculous case that your 2 year battery life unexpectedly craps out on you. For the red dot sight, a Trijicon RMR seems like the go-to option. It is the option that all other optics are measured against.

For in-game purposes this would make aiming easier in first person perspective for newer players as no knowledge of how regular iron sights work would be needed. Just a red dot would be needed. For regular third person view, that's where the Surefire x400v comes into play. It is the venerable Surefire x300, the go-to pistol light, but in IR, and with IR laser capabilities. This allows for even more use of the infrared goggles you can find in-game.

The Beretta pistol makes for an interesting host for pistol suppressors. Due to the movement of the barrel during firing, there is less or no need for a booster or Nielsen Device, allowing you to have a lighter suppressor. And for the kind of use this is intended for, less weight is really important. This also allows for a suppressor that isn't as specialized as the can used on the original XM9, this would allow for the same suppressor to potentially be used on whatever 9mm carbines or SMGs that could appear in the game.

Close to my idea, as built by user Greg Bell on Pistol-Forum.com

So yeah, that's my thoughts on how to reimagine what I think is a pretty iconic gun for the Metal Gear franchise.

#raiden #mgs2 #mgs2 sons of liberty #mgs2 raiden #metal gear solid #mgs raiden #beretta m9 #beretta 92 #Knight's Armanent #KAC #9x19 #9mm #9mm parabellum #9mm luger

[jellyfishloveletterghosts]

Billy keeps intentionally covering Steve in his scent. Eddie is finally going to leave Steve covered in his scent instead.

Leave No Doubt

"Hey Eddie!" Steve calls from his couch, sitting there curled up with Billy Hargrove. Practically on each other's laps with how entwined they are.

"Didn't know you were hanging out with Hargrove tonight." More bite than he means, nose wrinkling at the bright amusement coming off the werewolf. Billy smirks at Eddie as he manages to press even closer to Steve, head resting on his shoulder, mouth too close to pretty pale flesh.

"It's movie night, Billy always comes for movie night." Steve frowns, twisting, mouth almost brushing Billy’s as he sets his arms on the back of the couch movie forgotten as he turns fully around. "Are you okay?"

Billy slots closer, fingers of one hand ghosting over Steve's throat right over his pluses. Right where Eddie wants his mouth to be.

"Oh you're hungry." If Eddie still had the ability to blush he would be, only realizing his fangs have dropped by Steve’s tone and the way Billy is laughing. At least Steve elbows Billy with a "Hush, bad puppy."

Read the Rest on Ao3

Done for the Bottom Steve Steddie Event

#Steddie #jellyghostfic #fanfiction #st fic #steve harrington x eddie munson #vampire eddie munson #werewolf billy hargrove #it spicy

[revenant-dumpster-fire]

Faulty Sparkle (Revenant x Reader)

Theme: Season 9 of the Apex Games are imminent as the autumn comes to a close, and the events of the past couple months only begin to find any closure.

Warnings: Pain, bodily trauma, medical trauma, PTSD, bipolar disorder, mania, depression, anxiety disorder, lewd.

Reader's Notes: I think I got my mojo back a bit. I think for a while there I forgot to write what makes sense to me and was too concerned with writing well.

Writing Notes: "Get laid, get paid, Gatorade." -Valkyrie, probably. (Also congratulations to me on learning how to spell "valkyrie".)

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"Just A Volunteer" (Book 1) | "The Lost Files" (Book 1.5) | "Of Feathers And Venom" (Book 2)

You moan as you lift your hand to rub your eyes. You wake up in your bed, alone. The light coming through the window is strong and blinding you before you even sit up to face it. You must have slept in until almost noon after falling asleep in the taxi. You don't remember getting out or coming up to the apartment, let alone getting into bed.

You hear the suspicious sound of... scissors cutting paper? It's coming from the little seating area near the foot of your bed. You want to sit up to look, but your stomach hurts from where that strange simulacrum bumped into you yesterday at the coffee shop. It's not a sharp pain; just a very blunt, mild soreness. It's enough pain to be a reminder of him, but not enough to cause alarm. At least you got free apple cider out of it.

You hear a faint mewing coming from the same direction as the sounds of the scissor blades. It must be Royce.

"Shush, you infernal marshmallow!" You hear Revenant chide in hushed tones. "If you keep smacking at the scissors I will trim your fur to look like a fancy poodle. Then no one will take you seriously ever again. You'll be the joke of all your peers." The mews continue. "Dammit, you sad excuse for a cloud! You're just like her—throwing yourself into danger and making a fuss the whole damn time."

You huff out a laugh, alerting him to your consciousness.

"Oh, and speak of the devil." He bemoans openly. "How was your eighteen-hour-long reprieve? You want to nap some more, or are you finally finished?" He sounds very exasperated.

You sit up, the light from the window blinding you as you face him. For a moment, he's just a silhouette against the brightness, but as your eyes adjust you make out his features. He's sitting on the small loveseat, cutting up what appears to be a newspaper with a pair of scissors. There's a couple of snipped out articles sitting on the table already, and even more scraps littered across the rug on the floor. Royce is sitting on the lower half of the newspaper in his lap, pawing wildly at his palms, unable to reach the scissors. Revenant takes a moment to move Royce away with his spare hand, but she quickly bounds back into his lap to demand attention. He cuts a few more snippets out, moves Royce just for her to return, he sighs in exhaustion, and he returns to cutting. This cycle repeats three times before you decide to give input.

"What are you—?"

"No." He cuts you off, turning to face you. Royce stops playing for a moment, apparently a little scared by his tone. She jumps up, latching onto his headscarf, burying herself inside to hide. "Now that you've calmed down a bit... You owe me an apology."

You freeze, your gut hurting even worse now from the dread. Before you have time to recover and speak, he continues.

"I do so much for you. I give you everything I possibly can. I save you from certain death, even if that bit was selfish of me. I put up with your little girlfriend and try to help her out. I am actively trying to avenge what happened to you. I provide water, whatever food you want, and a luxurious shelter. I literally got you a MRVN slave to take care of anything you don't want to do! I surround you with puppies and this—" He pulls Royce out of his scarf, holding her ragdolling and purring form up, presenting her for you to see, "—this defective thing! But you still do the one thing I asked you not to do! You leave! You put yourself in danger. You put everything I've done for you at risk by simply putting yourself out there for the wolves to devour. You don't even warn me! You sneak out, you don't let me know where you are. You have no idea what could have happened to you, and I need you to stop." He tucks Royce back in his scarf. She's purring so loudly. She really loves Rev. "So what am I doing wrong, little raven? Why are you acting like I've trapped you in a cage and all you want to do is fly away? Or am I right, and I've done nothing wrong, and you're just your own brand of selfish?"

You can't respond. You are scared to move. He's not gesturing aggressively, but he is clearly infuriated with you. You carefully scoot backwards, away from the foot of the bed and towards the headboard. He watches you without losing focus for a mere moment. Once you back yourself into a wall, you nab some pillows and begin to cover yourself.

"I'm sorry..." your voice quivers before you shove your face into a pillow, preventing him from seeing your tearful and mortified expression. You hear him sigh loudly and exaggeratedly.

"Ugh, the point isn't to make you cry, little skinsuit. You're supposed to apologize and explain what's going on in that skull of yours so I can make it right."  You hear him bemoan aloud. You hear him shuffle a bit, but he suddenly stops making any sounds.

You shove your face deeper into the pillow, trying not to anticipate what he might say next.

"You're not making any sense... I give you so many things... What's missing? Why won't you stay here—stay safe?" He actually sounds a little desperate. You grab a second pillow behind you and toss it in his general direction. You hear him shuffle to react, giving you time to come up for air and get out your answer before burying your face again.

"Affection!" Your face makes a pomf sound as it slams back into the pillow. You only managed to catch a glimpse of his surprised stature catching the pillow as it flew a few feet to the side of him. He didn't make eye contact with you, otherwise you might have burst into tears under his gaze. Even if he doesn't intend to seem harsh, there's always an unsettling edge to him that can set your emotions over the edge.

"Does providing for you not count as affection?" You hear him ask poignantly. He pauses for a few moments, but you don't remove your face from the cotton pillowcase. It smells like fresh feathers and the natural scent of your hair, but the heat of your face and the labor required to breathe makes the experience a little bit suffocating. "We keep talking about this, but I feel like we never get anywhere. I can't just stay here all the time. I need to work on finding out who tried to take you. I need to do my job and take contracts. Soon, I'll be back in the Games on top of it all again. Surely you understand that. I can't imagine—"

"Stop talking over there and come hug me!" You emerge to yell at him in a desperate burst. You bury yourself again, waiting to hear if he'll be mad at you.

You hear him sigh before he shuffles audibly in your direction. You feel his weight create slopes in the mattress near you as he crawls over to you. Your spine tingles with excitement as you anticipate him, but you don't wait. The moment he's in range, you toss the pillow aside and go to slam your torso into him. Instead of the graceful embrace you expected to pull off, your head makes a loud, reverberating thunk against his chassis' chest as you hit him way harder than you expected. He quickly shuffles into a seated position before forcibly grabbing and cradling your head. You know that's going to hurt in a few moments, and you know with a sound that loud it's going to hurt badly.

"What the hell…?! Skinsuit, are you okay?" He's pulled you into his frame again as he crosses his legs around you. You're trying to hold your arms around his waist to give him the hug you intended, but the pain is rapidly gathering up in your forehead where you crashed into his metal body. He's cradling and brushing his fingers against your scalp, but it can't spare you now. You want to grab your head, but you struggle to move your arms. "Did you actually just give yourself a concussion trying to hug me?" He makes a vocalization that sounds like a small mechanical whine in his throat.

You slump into him and forget what you were upset about mere moments ago.

•    •    •    •

You come to loosely tucked under the covers in bed and lying on your side, Royce curled up behind your neck and purring softly. Revenant is lying next to you, his mask pressed into your face gently. His arms are cradling your neck and head, which still feels a bit sore as it pounds at the sudden wave of consciousness. You can feel the motion of a few fingers near your neck stroking Royce and keeping her purring happily. One of his legs is wrapped around yours, pinning you down on your side. You feel the weight of Six at the foot of the bed, although he's perfectly still for the time being. You moan a little from the dull, pounding pain and a few tears escape your closed eyes as you struggle not to cry, even though you don't feel emotional or in any sharp, overwhelming type of pain.

"Fragile little thing, just stay there. Listen to the purring. Relax." His voice is low, smoother, and calmer than normal. You feel like you're underwater and can't reach him, but you lift your arms up and meet his cold chest anyway. You loosely grab at the straps holding his headscarf to his chassis; your eyelids too heavy to open as you weakly tangle your fingers around them.

"Your little birdcage is too boring, isn't it? You just need a reason to stay, and I haven't given you one. The one thing you want is me, but I need to leave to hunt those who might hunt you, so you fly away when I leave the door open. I see the issue." He hums rhythmically, almost melodically, ensuring his voice is soft enough to not upset your head. One of his hands pulls away from behind you, suddenly reappearing in your blind perception when it gingerly and softly pulls your closest hand away from his straps to intertwine with it. His cool, metal fingers slip between yours, allowing his leather-clad palm to press into your fleshy, warm, soft one. His fingers anchor themselves to you as they curl around and press into the back of your hand. His claws frame your knuckles, intentionally squeezing your whole hand with a vibrant and dominant affection. You instinctively squeal a little, letting it barely erupt past your throat.

"You miss me. You want me. I am your ultimate prize, aren't I? You worship me. You crave my attention. You're helpless without me." He whispers with a concerning voraciousness. "What a responsibility that is, to care and protect such a needy little thing as you, but in truth..." His mask lifts away from your face to land right against your ear, letting his breath leave your nerves alight. "...I love how much you need me."

You feel the blood rush to your face rapidly. Your head pounds with the newfound pressure, giving you a fierce enough headache to make you moan in agony. His mask presses back into yours as you wince from the pain in your forehead, but he presses in deeper.

"Oh, dear, calm down, little raven. Did I say something to rile you?" His voice is laced with a cruel delight. He knows what he said.

You know he loves to tease you. His body is tensed up and primed to strike and pin you down. You know for a fact that he enjoys the dynamic of being overwhelmingly stronger and scarier than you, and he can barely help becoming that predator in your presence. You also instinctively want to buckle under the weight of his aura or flee from his attention, both of which only fuels him more. You're locked up under him as you feel your heart rate spike with concerned anticipation, but it causes his stature to loosen rather than tense further as he realizes that he needs to be softer in this moment.

"But truly, calm down. Listen to Royce's purrs. Feel my hand. Know you're safe. Just be quelled. Sleep." His voice is soft and smooth again, almost quiet enough to fool you into thinking it was someone entirely antithetical to the normally cold, cruel simulacrum he shows most others.

You tug on the one strap you still have a grip on and squeeze his hand. You don't want to do what he asks and rest. You missed this so much, all it took was injuring yourself on him and his façade of uncaring aloofness gives way to a possessive doting. You don't care about the headache or the pounding veins, you just want to enjoy the moment. Maybe he finally gets what you want from him and it's safe to pass out, but what if it isn't? What if he goes back to being distant? You aren't able to pull him any closer, so you muster up the strength and mental fortitude to pull yourself into him. It's more of a writhing motion than a graceful one, but you get your body pressed up against his as you push his face backwards enough to straighten out his spinal plates. You slink out of his hand's grasp to get an anchor back and around his leathery neck, feeling the muscle-like tubes, hydraulics, and robotics underneath. You let your naturally smaller frame shrink into him as your forehead naturally lines up and presses against his chin. He spares a few moments before his metal arms wrap around you and squeeze you in place. He could crush you if he had the inkling to do so, but he eases off as soon as your spine starts to bend into his hug.

"Sleep." Another order. Despite your headache, you insist on defying him, huffing under your breath in response. He scoffs at you, letting his breath drench the surface of your face in warmth.

"I said sleep, and you will do as I ask. Don't pretend like you don't want to. You hit your head hard. I'll be here when you wake up."

You hold your breath for a few moments, deciding if you'll give a slow exhale of surrender or a labored hiss of defiance. Despite your genuine desire to be as insubordinate as possible, you slowly release your breath with a long, wistful sigh of defeat. You make a small inhale, just enough to get out a final request before you let yourself go adrift.

"Don't move," is your last utterance before your jostled nervous system pulls you away from reality once again.

•    •    •    •

You wake up again, but now it's late in the afternoon. Your head still hurts a bit, but it's significantly less disturbing than the metal machination tangled and grappled around your frame. He is strangely silent.

You cock your head back a bit to meet his eyes, only to be met with void, lifeless pits. He's in reboot? You take a moment and remain still, but he doesn't stir. You gently jostle a bit in his arms, making a small electrical buzz begin somewhere deep in his chest. It holds for a moment before you can begin to hear the familiar whirring of cooling fans begin again. His vocalizer begins to hum a little calibration tone at a low volume. Limbs twitch a little as each tests its own movement in a recursive manner, starting near his midline and working its way down his limbs and to each of his digits. His emotional state should be back any moment now. His jerky movements slow down and cease after a few more seconds, then you feel his entire body lurch into yours, grasping you with all the fierceness and strength of an apex predator. You're far too sluggish to react in time, not that you had any hope of escaping him like this anyway.

You squirm a little in apprehensive discomfort under his oppressive grapple, remembering the wounds he's accidentally inflicted on you before while in reboot. You try to pull away, but he's quick and firm to press you back into him, one arm wrapped around your back and cradling the back of your head while the other keeps his open palm anchoring your lower spine and teasing your tailbone. He vomits a static cacophony from his jaw that slowly clarifies into legible words.

"—dare you to try! You can't have what's mine!" He shouts over you in a tone laced with wrath towards an unknown entity. He seems to be hallucinating something upsetting to him. As you realize this, your desire to help him back to reality snaps into action.

You slink your arms out from being pinned at your sides—thankfully without his notice—and lift your hands carefully to caress his mask gently and softly. As soon as your touch is registered, he leans into your hands and nuzzles into them, allowing you to gently run your fingers down and around every ridge, divot, and plane of his mask. Your affection seems to warp his hallucination from a stressful and loud defensiveness to a quiet and quelled relaxation. All that is audible is your own heartbeat and breathing, the sounds of your fingers sliding across the smooth texture of his face, the minor whirrs and negligible clicks of his body adjusting and moving, and a low rumble of a purr emitting somewhere from deep in his chest. His eyes are still empty, but you brace yourself and try to coax him back.

"H-Hey big guy, are you okay?" You airily whimper at him, hoping he will wake up a little more to your voice. Unfortunately, he still remains somewhere between unconscious and sentient. His movement ceases for a moment as he processes your words.

"I love you." He mumbles in a low tone.

Oh.

You knew this, didn't you? Then why does it feel so shocking and reassuring to hear him say out loud? Sure, you said it to him first in a moment of excitement, but for some reason you never expected to hear him ever say it back to you, with or without his full awareness. Your face burns a little as your face flushes, and you feel a strong need to squirm into his frame excitedly. You feel your heart speed up and your body warm up. You emit a high pitched whine from holding back the natural need to express your elation. It was only three words, and it isn't even news to you, yet you can't stop lingering on it. You bury your face into his headscarf to hide from his empty stare out of some combination of mutual affection and the pure embarrassment of being felled by a mere statement.

You feel his hug tighten around you into a threateningly powerful squeeze. A few of your joints make cracking sounds as they give way to his demands, but he stops short of causing you pain. All you get is the concerning anticipation of that pain, but thankfully none of the payoff. He emits a stronger, deeper purring sound out of his chest and into your hidden visage, dampened only by the cloth of his scarf. His hands slip under your shirt slowly and carefully, finally making contact with your bare skin. You twitch away from the cold touch, but it quickly warms to match your body heat. He pushes into the revealed crevasses of your spine, gently guiding you to relax your frame.

Suddenly and unexpectedly, his grip on you loosens and his limbs ragdoll for a mere moment as he takes account of the past few minutes.

"Ah, the little raven couldn't resist using me as a nest to roost in, huh?" He is now fully aware and teasingly condescending. "I didn't move, just like you asked." He's fishing for praise already.

You unbury yourself from his scarf to glance up at him. Indeed, his eyes are glowing a bright and aware golden yellow with their piercing, tightened, analog pupils drilling into your soul. You're still terrified of being caught in his gaze even if you know you have nothing to fear. It's as if his entire body was built for inciting terror and reducing the human form to be nothing but brittle and weak vermin. It's scary, but you've become a connoisseur for his monstrous aura.

"Yeah, you didn't." You respond coyly as your nose scrunches up for the quip: "I guess I've tamed the mean old simulacrum, eh?"

He immediately emits a snorting sound as if to choke back a laugh, scoffing openly and cocking one eyelid shut to accentuate his disbelief.

"Very bold words coming from a tiny skinsuit with a swollen nose, a black eye, and a concussion." He states as dryly as his vocalizations allow him to.

"Wait, what?!" You immediately try to see your reflection in his metal chest, but alas, it's too matte to reflect properly. Your whole head is sore but you had no idea you tanked a black eye in the process. "You're joking, right?!" You look back up at him desperate for some reassurance. He looks back at you with an awkward shrug and another snicker, clearly humored by your sudden realization that you did—in fact—hurt yourself just trying to hug him.

You push out of his embrace and nearly leap out of the bed, intending to head to the bathroom to see for yourself. As soon as you're on your feet, the dizziness hits you almost as quickly as the floor does.

"Skinsuit!" He's fast, but he wasn't fast enough to catch you this time. Your face is planted into the ground, your head hurts, you can't remember how to coordinate your limbs to get up, and now having a busted up face is the least of your problems. "Why did you do that?! Are you stu—" He catches himself by slurring his insult into a frustrated growl. You can hear his palm slap into his mask before he collects himself and begins to lift you off the floor by your shoulders.

There's blood on the floor beneath where your face landed, a couple fresh droplets making their way off your face and into the forming puddle below.

Soon, you're staring at the ceiling from the bed, looking up to meet Revenant's bothered but concerned gaze down at you.

"Your nose is bleeding and possibly broken, and now you have two black eyes." He states without any infections before sighing and turning away to continue. "You need to stop. You are the most fragile, aloof, and shortsighted skinbag I have ever met, and I need you to stop throwing yourself into danger and hurting yourself." He is speaking so plainly that the frustration comes across even stronger than it would if he tried to express it. "It's funny, but only to a point. It's funny when it's a mistake and a negligible enough injury, but sometimes you really just don't think, do you?" He sighs and turns back to you, holding out his spindly, clawed hand above your chest as if expecting something. "I'll give you more attention if you'll just listen to me and try to stay safe. Deal?" It's a handshake he's offering.

You struggle but manage to raise your hand and grasp his awkwardly, but you don't shake. You're actually not sure how when your hands are perpendicular and not parallelly joined. He shakes it for you.

"Deal. I expect you're good on your word, right? A fan of the Hunter would never be so dishonorable, would they?" He coos a little sarcastically.

"Ha, my first favorite. You figured it out." You weakly whisper aloud.

"Oh please, it was super obvious since that bird seems to like you so much. Plus it seems like most of my fans originally were Bloodhound's. 'Hunter to prey pipeline', or something like that. I've seen a few fans say that online." He praises his fan poaching openly as he sits next to your splayed out body on the bed.

"Oh... so you do consider yourself prey for them?" Your voice sounds weak even to you, so you're a little worried if he can hear you prod at him.

"If a manufactured killer that can skewer someone with a single claw is the definition of 'prey' to them, then who am I to argue?" He stretches out his hand and sharpens the tips, making them look as feral as possible. "They can come at me any day if they think these are the hands of mere..." He thinks for a moment "...bráð... I think that's what they called me."

You light up as he says a word you do not recognize. It sounds like Bloodhound's native tongue to you, although you aren't sure what it means, context clues are good enough to give you the gist.

"So you do like Bloodhound?" You're smiling a little. He grimaces and winces at the word 'like', possibly not remembering that he uttered the word 'love' during reboot a short while ago. He makes a sound similar to clearing one's throat, not that he necessarily has anything akin to that type of hardware.

"We have a mutual respect for one another's capabilities as hunters and killers." He clarifies, letting the silence settle for a moment.

The silence speaks volumes.

"Deceit is a learned skill, don't worry, you'll get there eventually." You finally utter.

He whips around to give you the dirtiest glare his static visage can offer.

"You're not allowed near Sherry anymore. She's clearly a horrible influence." He growls.

"You seem to have taken a liking to her though." You hum, averting your eyes to the pure white ceiling, focusing on the small imperfections where the joists have minimally sagged under the weight of the building above.

He growls again, refusing to acknowledge such a possibility. He peers over you again, locked onto your eyes, which meet his gaze when prompted.

"You nearly look like a corpse." He pauses. "I don't like it."

"Thanks." You respond with a weak thumbs up to signal how utterly reassuring such a compliment is. Your sarcasm isn't lost on him, but he ignores it.

"I'm going to get you a washcloth to wipe your face up with. Your nose is going to bleed for a bit, but if it doesn't slow down, I'm going to have to use styptic powder again." You wish you could see what he's talking about, but you can still feel the blood droplets making their way down your nose and cheeks. Maybe it's best you can't see. "I'll fix your nose up and splint it with a bandage in a few moments. It's probably not as bad as it looks currently, but you need to not move since you're also still recovering from a minor concussion." He trails off his voice a bit. "Ice packs, rest, and not planting your face into the floor for a couple weeks should do the trick." He mumbles the last bit, but you still heard it.

He gets up off the bed and begins to walk over to the closed door. The sound of Six's excited claws scratching the door becomes audible as he excitedly hopes to be let in. You also hear mews laced with wrath at being kicked out of the room, but they're mostly drowned out by the scratching sound. Apparently Revenant must have moved once while you were passed out to lock them out of the room. You feel a minor pang of hurt from such a realization, but your logical side recognizes that he has a point. Sometimes he really does need to leave. Sometimes it's good for him to take care of things. What matters is he was there when you woke up, right? He was, which is what you really wanted in the end anyway.

You hear his metal digits clink against the door handle as he goes to turn it.

"Hey, Rev..." He stops cold. The room is silent for a moment. "Everything is gonna be okay, right?"

The world is silent for a long couple of moments. He is obviously reading deeply into the question as he formulates an answer.

"Yeah, as long as you trust me. I've been through this before. I'm experienced, for better or for worse. Just don't panic and become the one maverick in the equation that I can't anticipate."

He doesn't pause for additional input or questions. The door opens, two very needy animals bound into the room, and he walks out, Royce angrily mewing after him. Six leaps into bed with you and begins gently licking your face clean, whimpering in minor concern.

Normally you might resist being coated in prowler saliva, but your head is spinning a little and it's not worth the squirming.

•    •    •    •

"I can't believe how much I have to babysit you." Revenant huffs as he uses a warm, wet washcloth to wipe some remaining stray blood off your cheek. He's used some medical tape and popsicle sticks the MRVN brought from the store to splint and bandage up your nose. The adhesive on the paper tape feels uncomfortable and makes your facial muscles twitch a little in protest, allowing the corners of the tape to turn up. Somehow that's more annoying than the adhesive itself.

"Stop that!" He uses his claws to gently press the tape back to your face, already annoyed at the MRVN looking over his shoulder at his workmanship.

"Sir, I think—"

"Nobody cares what you think!!" He throws his hands up trying to dismiss the MRVN, but he refuses to not watch.

"But... Mr. Cross, I have general practitioner physician software installed for this very thing, I could really help—"

"Fine!" He finally rips the MRVN by his arm to get in front of you. "Fix her, but I swear if you mess up again I will not hesitate to break you down into parts." He practically yells as he stands up from kneeling over you on the couch. The MRVN's emote looks stressed, but quickly changes to a sad face.

"I am sorry, you did put the dog in charge and he did say that she could leave..." He pleads, harkening back to how you managed to slip by him and escape yesterday.

"No, Six didn't say anything of that sort. Six can't talk. She lied to you. How are you this stupid?" Revenant is pacing back and forth between the massive window of a wall overlooking the city and the pillar with the fireplace and the television mounted over it.

The MRVN looks distressed at you as he realigns your nose splint and reapplies the medical tape.

"I am sorry, I wasn't equipped to handle lies! I've been issued a software update to account for skepticism, deceit, and sarcasm now, but—"

"Fine! I think you're a waste of metal and I would systematically deconstruct you if you had the pain receptors to suffer during every minute of it. How'd your lie detector do, hmm?!" Revenant throws a shrug up as he tilts his head in a sarcastic, wrath-filled gesture beckoning the MRVN.

The MRVN winces away a little, taking a moment to process.

"I didn't register any deceit in your statement." The MRVN almost whimpers as he wilts in front of you, still trying to dab up some blood off your face. Your nose still is steadily bleeding. "Ma'am, please sit still." He casually sticks a finger with an exposed node into each of your nostrils and you feel an electrical snap course through it for a moment. It stings and you naturally wince away from him as you grab at your splinted face. He pulls his fingers out and wipes them off for a moment. You feel a tear well up in your eyes from the stinging pain, wondering what just happened.

"What was that?!" You hear Revenant growl as the MRVN lifts off the ground from in front of you, hoisted up by an enraged simulacrum. The MRVN immediately begins to curl into a defensive stance as he desperately tries to explain himself.

"I cauterized her nosebleed! I'm sorry, it's standard first aid procedure!" Revenant drops him and he slams into the floor with a loud crash, making you jump and sink deeper into the couch away from them both, still covering your splinted nose. Revenant leans over you and lightly pulls your hands away from your nose, inspecting the work. His eyes dart in small jumps to each area of your face the MRVN touched. His LED irises slowly relax and widen as he wipes away a tear that escapes your eyes. He stands up and away from you to then hoist the MRVN back up to his knees.

"That hurt her. Do something about it." Revenant growls again before returning to pacing. The MRVN whimpers before getting to his feet to shuffle to a cabinet in the kitchen, explaining as he goes.

"Ibuprofen should help, but I'm also licensed to administer a little lidocaine." He hums with a tremolo, still a little fearful of Revenant's ire. "You won't be able to blow your nose for about a week, but you'll feel a lot better at the end of it."

You return your hands to your nose to cover it, still tearing up over the stinging sensation from the electrical cauterization. Revenant extends the trek of his pacing, now requiring him to step over and around a couple of prowlers curled up on the floor in clusters, keeping each other warm. He slowly decides to alter his pacing into an extended, winding figure eight, circling around the piles of his "puppies'' in an infinitely looping manner. It's funny to watch what would normally be an aggressive, threatening lurk around the room turn into a chaotic shuffle to avoid disturbing the creatures he's come to adore and deeply care for.

You hear Six's claws tap against the hardwood floor from behind you, confirmed by the meowing of Royce who sticks to Revenant and Six at almost all times. As Six comes into your view, you see Royce angrily mewing behind him and leaping into short sprints trying to keep up with the unfair stride advantage Six possesses. Six takes a moment to decide between going to your side or Revenant's as Royce makes a straight dash towards Revenant, immediately grabbing onto his leg wraps and trying to climb him with her tiny claws.

"Oh, for the love of—" Revenant winces in minor surprise at her, but quickly lifts his leg to pry her off. She cries insistently in protest until he tucks her into his headscarf, where she quiets down and begins purring loudly enough for you to hear. Six watches in some combination of concern and disapproval. To be fair, you've never seen Six spoil the two juvenile prowlers, who now lie in a pile with their mother in the corner. Six seems like a more stern parent than Revenant is, funnily enough. What's even more humorous is Six's palpable judgment of Revenant's constantly giving in to Royce's demands.

Realizing he can no longer easily pace around the room and brood, Revenant audibly makes a sighing noise and relaxes a bit, making his way to the couch. Six immediately cuts him off and leaps into the seat next to you instead, sniffing at your face for a moment before turning to growl at Revenant.

"It wasn't me this time!" He throws his hands out to his sides to accentuate his point. "She fell of her own accord."

Six growls a little more, refusing to give up the seat next to you, but instead nuzzling up into your lap and turning his growl into the most disconcertingly deep purr. Revenant's stature shrugs further as he takes the seat on the opposite side of Six, reaching into his headscarf to scratch Royce's cheeks.

The MRVN returns with a gelled up cotton swab, pushing it gently into your nose and numbing it almost instantly. He hands you a small shot glass of a measured out medicine, followed by some ice water. The medicine tastes like some combination of orange and alcohol that barely is palatable, but it washes down easily enough with the water. The MRVN seems cautiously happy that you accepted his help.

"Thank you." You say to him, mostly to give him audible approval and hopefully keep Revenant from dogging him further. You can hear Revenant sneer as he hisses a little under his breath, seemingly mad that he doesn't have an excuse to abuse the automa further. "I am sorry I snuck out yesterday and lied to you about having permission. I didn't think it would be that big of a deal." You hang your head a little, but a whirring chirp comes from the MRVN that reestablishes your attention on him.

"It is okay! It won't happen again, I am sure. Everyone makes mistakes." He seems happy enough as he stands upright from kneeling in front of you.

"Bring me my notes, rustbucket." Revenant demands quite hastily.

As the MRVN walks away, Revenant reaches forward to the coffee table and turns on the television, flipping through a few channels before finding the Apex Games' broadcasting network. A couple of news folks are sitting around a table all chatting about the upcoming announcement for the new celebrity contender, theorizing on who they may be.

One commentator is placing bets with the others that the new player will be a simulacrum. Another insists that it will be a pilot. Still another thinks that it may be another supermodel-type like Mirage or Loba, which makes you giggle a little inside knowing how awkward Mirage can sometimes be. A more cynical member from behind the camera can be heard saying it'll probably just be a new modded-up MRVN with a goofy name because "they're running out of attractive people with a high tolerance for pain." The eldest anchor who has been silent up to this point begins to chuckle a little jovially at that comment, finally retorting with a jab that eventually they're going to have to start letting prisoners of war fight in the games to really spice it up. The majority of the table cracks up at that one before they throw a poll up on the screen with all the proposed options, asking viewers to place their own bets for fun. The top voted option quickly becomes supermodel which is to be expected, but the joke entry of "prisoner of war" easily takes second place. The remaining votes are spread pretty evenly across the remaining options. Revenant audibly scoffs.

"Did they tell you who the new player is?" You ask with a slightly awkward twinge to your voice caused by your nose struggling to handle rapid airflow. You peer across Six to see if he reacts. He huffs again, apparently annoyed by the whole ordeal.

"No, I find out at the same time everyone else does. Heard some rumors though, not that I could care less. I've been too busy hunting down the scum of this city and leaving messages for whoever runs the criminal operations around here." Revenant averts his gaze despite your obvious lean to try to make eye contact. He may not like seeing your face bruised and your nose in a splint. You haven't dared look in a mirror yourself, so it could be understandable.

The MRVN returns with a stack of newspaper clippings, scizzors, a folder filled with papers, and a partially snipped up paper from today, handing them all to Revenant sequentially. The MRVN, now empty-handed, comes back to you and kneels down to your level to review your injuries. He carefully and gently pushes and pulls on your jaw to force your head to look any which way so he can get a better view.

"It should make a full recovery in a few weeks. Swelling will persist for a few days. I will check up on you regularly and administer painkillers as needed." The MRVN nods a little, eventually looking in Revenant's direction for approval. Revenant offers none except for the lack of disapproval. The MRVN seems a little lost by Revenant's refusal to acknowledge him, so you lightly reach out and hold his wrist to grab his attention again.

"Thank you, I appreciate your help." You say to him as he looks to you. His emote immediately brightens to a happy face at the feedback.

"I am glad to help! Would you like some dinner?" Geeze. You forgot what time it was. Now you look to Revenant instinctively for approval, already knowing you're going to be chided for wanting to say no.

"Make her soup," he demands, "if she isn't that hungry, at least soup is easy to consume."

You didn't want to eat, but he's not wrong about soup either. He hears you sigh a little.

"Listen, you're probably still suffering from a concussion, you've bled plenty today, and now your face needs to heal. I know you vastly prefer to starve yourself most of the time, but you need nutrition." He pauses for a moment, contemplating. He calls out to the MRVN who is now in the kitchen. "Actually, prepare a tonkotsu ramen for tomorrow. Make her eggs for tonight."

You cringe a little at that word: ramen. It's the cheapest noodle soup available at most stores, sold in individual little packages. You lived off of them for a long time while homeless. They were shelf stable, lightweight noodle bricks with powdered bullion, loosely wrapped in thin plastic packaging. You've eaten the noodles like crackers before, made the two-minute-long soup format, you tried using the noodles like bread for peanut butter sandwiches, and you even have made cheap macaroni and cheese with the noodles. Homeless shelters would have pallets of the stuff donated by well-meaning individuals, but it could never undo how utterly exhausting and tiring it is to taste the same noodle soup every day for years on end. You were grateful for the food, of course, but not ready to even try such a thing again. You don't feel right complaining now either; after all, you'd shudder to think how much money Revenant has dumped on you. You don't want to come off as ungrateful. You have no idea what word he put in front of "ramen" or why the MRVN would have to prep for a two-minute meal tomorrow, but your internals churn at the thought. Ramen isn't even that bad. You've just had enough to last the rest of your life, and you really don't want the uncomfortable "nostalgia" of your homeless life. You steel yourself for the moment. You can handle one more bowl of the stuff if it makes him happy.

"You look like you're going to throw up. Are you sick and tired of eggs or something?" Revenant has been staring at you this whole time, apparently. You quickly shake your head to dismiss his concerns before finding the energy to answer him more completely.

"I'm fine, just thinking back to..." You trail off. You're afraid you're going to sound ungrateful if you're honest, but you also don't want to be dishonest. You internally panic trying to figure out how to word this well. Six begins licking you, making your train of thought careen off the rails. You pull your face away but he pushes his snout beneath your chin to carefully lick the uninjured area of your face. Before you have time to collect yourself, you feel Revenant appear behind you and grab you under your arms, lifting you over the back of the couch and out of Six's reach. As you lift off from your comfy perch, you see Royce bounce into the warm cavity in the couch, leaping over Six's massive tail to do so. Six begins licking her instead as she swats at his hardened snout.

Revenant puts you on your feet before pulling a single arm around your back to brace you, leading you back into your bedroom and into the bathroom. He glances at the sink, toilet, shower, and massive bathtub before speaking up.

"Pick your poison." He offers, gesturing in the general direction of the many plumbing sources.

You lower yourself to the floor, actually feeling a bit dizzy from either the concussion or being lifted unexpectedly. You crawl over to the toilet, just in case Revenant is right. Thankfully the MRVN cleans the bathroom daily so the whole room is pristine, the white and black marble flooring with artful black bamboo mats being no exception. You peer in at the blue-tinted water. It has a floral scent from the bowl cleaner which settles your stomach more than you care to admit. You jump a little as Revenant's entire mass slams into the ground next to you, only cushioned by his meager loincloth and the bamboo mat. It's genuinely a miracle he didn't crack the marble. You whine a little in delayed protest.

"We can stay here until you're looking a little less pale." He shifts a little, possibly trying to find comfort on the cold floor. "If your nose starts to bleed again, I'll get the MRVN to cauterize it again." You wince a little at that idea.

You don't think you need to throw up. You just had a moment remembering what a block of dried noodles with sodium-laced powder tastes like, as well as remembering an era where sitting in a nice bathroom like this was a pipe dream. You feel the room seem to spin, not out of nausea but rather out of feeling like you do not belong in this space. Is this all too good for you? Maybe things would be better if you went back to living off of ramen and sleeping in a tiny bunk in the Apex Games facility.

You jolt back to reality as a cold set of claws gently lands on your shoulder.

"Flighty raven, what's wrong?" You hear him say, but you struggle to see him through the visual snow even as it fades. He called you 'raven' again. It's been an unexpected shift from his original nickname for you, but you appreciate how much more it sounds like a name than an insult.

He sounded so much more concerned than you thought he would be. You rub your eyes gently hoping the visual snow will fade faster, but unfortunately it seems as if it will recede at its own pace regardless of what you do. You have to try to answer him.

"Sorry, I just was reminded of back when I was..." You trail off before realigning yourself to speak again. "Sorry, sorry. I was just thinking back before I was a volunteer and—"

"You don't need to say anything more." He pushes his metal thumb against your closed lips as his other fingers curl up underneath your chin. You are whipped back to the present moment in an instant, absolutely enamored by that simple touch. The visual blur and pixelated coloration fades almost instantly. Gravity feels as if it barely is gripping you anymore and your internals almost feel tickled, sparing the new synthetic ones. Suddenly, the lack of feeling in the synthetic organs is jarring. Acid burns your throat and you keel over, unable to vomit but also in an otherworldly pain brought on entirely by the psychological whiplash.

Revenant is fast to his feet, especially considering how quiet he is when he moves from a sitting position on the floor to a full tilt sprint. If you hadn't just seen it, you would have thought the noise was only him shifting his weight a little. Before you know it, the MRVN is practically falling over as he is dragged backwards into your presence.

"Fix this." Revenant hoists the MRVN to tower over your curled up form on the floor. Despite the inevitably disconcerting experience of being dragged around by a frustrated simulacrum, the MRVN is quick to adapt, kneeling over you and helping you back into a seated position.

"What hurts?" The MRVN asks with fairly little emotion.

You want to answer but you can't for some reason. The MRVN takes your arm, feeling your pulse in your wrist, touching your forehead, and pressing his hand gently into a few places on your torso where the healed surgical scars are.

The MRVN goes still for a moment before standing up and beginning to leave, much to Revenant's displeasure.

"Well? What's wrong?!" He looks as if he might disassemble him right there for daring to walk away from you.

"Give me a moment." The MRVN sounds surprisingly unfearful of Revenant at the moment, possibly engrossed in accomplishing whatever he is doing.

Revenant turns to you for a moment. His shoulders tense up as he stares down at you, pausing to try to determine if you're well again or not. He seems to conclude not, as he moves as if to follow the MRVN through the doorway before he suddenly reappears over the threshold, holding one of the two young prowlers as the other follows.

Revenant looks on in a mix of shock and confusion as the MRVN leans over, placing one next to you while the other gravitates to the opposite side. They squirm against your hands as you try to pet them. You remember when they were small enough to hold only a mere few months ago; they grow so fast.

"What are these?" The MRVN asks you plainly.

"This is..." you pause for a moment, not sure why this is important. "This is Seven and his sister."

"What are they?" He stays kneeled in front of you, showing no emotion, simply quizzing you along.

"They're Six's offspring, I think?" You look to Revenant for reassurance, who stays completely and utterly still, probably confused himself. "They—uh—they're young prowlers."

"Good." The MRVN completely falls into a seated position, but much gentler than Revenant had minutes earlier. He takes a moment to look you over. "Now, can you tell me which is the boy and which is the girl?"

"Um..." You pause. The deep purple one has curled up in your lap, gently purring at a low hum. This dark hued one is calm, collected, and lax. The orange-red one is boisterously sniffing you up and down, licking your arm and other exposed skin if something smells interesting enough. This bright one is energetic, curious, and squirmy. You're not sure which is which. "I'm guessing—" You point to the purple one in your lap. "—this is the girl."

"Wrong." Revenant butts in finally, now leaning against the wall with crossed arms, looking like he's losing patience with the MRVN. "It's reversed. The boy is purple, the same color as Six. The girl is red like her mom. The red with teal stripes is one of the more common colorations to see out in the wild. They stick out so easily, plus they have a higher rate of aggression, so humans encounter them more often." He huffs to end his tangent, realizing he's going into more detail than he initially intended.

The room is silent for a moment before the MRVN continues his line of questioning.

"What texture do they—"

"Seriously, what is this?" Revenant interrupts angrily, throwing his hands up a little bit. "This is getting annoying. What the hell are you doing? This is a waste of time." You wince away from the MRVN, who reaches out and takes your pulse a second time. "All you're doing is asking idiotic questions over and over. She's injured, you idiot. I don't need you to test her—"

"You're going to make her have another anxiety attack if you continue." The MRVN interrupts, still holding your wrist and feeling for your heartbeat.

The room falls silent once again. You wish you could curl up into a ball. Revenant has become a statue, frozen in some kind of shock, but the MRVN returns his attention to you.

"Anyways, I was asking you what it feels like to pet this one." He motions to the boy in your lap. You pull your wrist away from him and run your fingers across the young prowler's back. He coos at your touch happily.

Like Six, the boy is very warm like freshly laundered linens, but with the smooth texture of a reptile. Some scales are large and rocky, yet others are small and smooth like silk. The larger scales afford less warmth but more armor, while the smaller scales offer flexibility and hug closer to the warm body, letting the heat emanate through and into your palm. As you run your hand from the crest of his furls down to his flank, his cooing and purring vibrates into your palms. His back legs twitch a little against your touch, possibly a sign of ticklishness.

"He feels really well armored in some areas, almost like a stone. Some places the scales are smooth and slippery and warm." You keep it short as you continue to pet him, somewhat engrossed by the experience. The red girl begins to lick the back of your neck, possibly trying to grab your attention away from her brother.

"What does that feel like?" The MRVN motions to your neck.

Her licks aren't light in the slightest. Her tongue makes wide strokes, pressing into your neck with force. It's moist and warm, but not any rougher than a human's tongue despite being much larger. Her nostrils flare hot air over your wet neck with each lick, and her pants follow up with a cooling sensation. Her snout also hardens into a beak-like texture, but hers isn't as pronounced as her brother's or Six's. Her licks slowly slip around to the side of your neck, pausing as if to feel for the beat in your jugular. She stops licking, eventually resting her head on your shoulder for a few moments. The calm only lasts a few seconds before she notices the curious protrusion on the side of your head, resuming by licking and sniffing your ear. The tickling sensation necessitates you to squirm away and try to push her snout away as you attempt to answer the question posed.

"It feels like—" She pushes past your hands and nails your ear with the sloppiest lick. "—ugh! It feels like an oversized slug hitting me!" You get your hands around her snout and hold her at your shoulder. She immediately slips out, then pushes her snout back into your grip. Suddenly, she's enamored by the concept of fingers, inserting and removing her snout from the circular grip you've made. She looks ridiculous. You start to chuckle as she tilts her head in confusion before reinserting her snout, withdrawing it, and tilting again.

The MRVN stands up and begins to leave.

"Her anxiety attack seems to have been staved off. I'll get back to—" Revenant grabs him before he's made it over the threshold.

"What did you do?" Revenant asks, his voice caught somewhere between genuine curiosity and frustration.

"It's a distraction technique. Perhaps if you were more present and didn't feel the need to escalate every situation, she'd feel a bit more grounded and stable in your presence." The MRVN pushes his hands away and proceeds out of the bathroom. A few moments pass as you watch Revenant's entire stature tense up with rage.

"I am going to fucking tear that stupid—!"

"Escalation!" The MRVN rings out from the kitchen.

Revenant lets out a wrath filled scream as he drives his fist into the mirror above the two sinks next to him, shattering the mirror and causing the glass to shower down on the marble floor in front of you. You feel some of the tiny shards hit your legs, as you wince away from the splash of sharp, reflective daggers. The purple prowler sinks deeper into your lap to try to hide as he whimpers, while the red girl stays behind you momentarily.

Everything sits still for a moment after the glass is shattered. The MRVN appears in the doorway again.

"What happened?!" The MRVN exclaims from the other side of the doorway, peering in.

Revenant holds his fist inside the newly revealed hole in the drywall, staring into the wall where his reflection once was. He's completely still except for a minor tremble that resembles someone under heavy duress. The boy prowler is whimpering in your lap, while the red one tugs on your shirt trying to pull you closer into the wall and away from the glass. You shrink into the marble floor, wishing you could vanish from the scene in front of you.

"Sir, are you both traumatiz—?!"

"Shut up." Revenant growls, ripping his hand out of the wall by making an even bigger hole in the drywall. "I don't need your patronizing bullshit."

Revenant walks over as you cower into the floor, your heart racing. He pulls the purple prowler out of your lap as he ragdolls in his arms, whimpering loudly. Revenant walks him across the glass, causing the many shards to crunch between his metal soles and the marble. What's left beneath his feet is a pool of dangerous, glittery, faulty sparkles. He leaves the whimpering prowler in the safety of the doorway where Six appears to usher him back to the pack.

Revenant returns, picking up the red girl next. She squirms and tries to shake her way out of his grasp, but he has no issue holding her as he carries her across the sea of broken pieces. He places her in the doorway. The MRVN kneels over and pats her head before Six ushers her away too.

Finally, Revenant returns, his mass hulking over you like a hunter victorious over their prey. Your frame is as crouched and shriveled into the floor as it can be. For a moment, you feel that same fear again, overwhelming you. His whole frame blurs into a black silhouette spare for his bright yellow eyes which pierce through the void. You feel dizzy and the sensation of static begins to take over all your senses.

He kneels down to your level, letting you see the color return to his form. Your heart is still racing, but something about him kneeling to meet you closer to eye level is reassuring.

You flinch as the tip of his index finger taps the tip of your nose for a moment. You flinch in surprise before the realization catches up to you.

"Did... Did you just boop my—"

"Shut it." He pulls you into a hug and lifts you off the ground by your torso before scooping an arm under your knees to support you. He casually carries you across the sea of crunching shattered glass, leaving behind a shimmering wake of destruction where he walked. He places you down on your bed before turning to the MRVN.

"I'd throw you in a trash compactor and watch you be turned into a block if you were even slightly less valuable." Revenant pokes a finger into the screen on his chest, which leaves a stoic emote up before switching to a smug one.

"So you're saying I was right?" The MRVN chirps.

"Clean up that mess. I need some time alone. Don't bug me." He huffs at the MRVN. He turns to you. "I'm sorry, just take a break. Turn on the new player announcement and let me know if anything interesting happens. Right now I just need to focus on something else for a little while."

You nod at him and he dismisses himself from the room as you and the MRVN watch. The MRVN shrugs haplessly when he meets your gaze again, his emote displaying a little sweat droplet and rolling eyes. His software update made him a little more sassy and cynical than he was before. You wonder how Pathfinder would change with similar updates.

You can hear Revenant pick up the newspaper clippings from before, as well as Royce whose screams for attention suddenly drift off in the direction of his room before abruptly vanishing as the door slams. You still aren't sure what he's working so diligently on with the newspaper clippings, but maybe it will help him calm down.

The MRVN walks over to you, quickly checks you over for any injuries before giving you a hearty thumbs up.

"Thank you," you say to him, "I'm sorry about him. He's just..." You trail off, unsure of what words to use to describe Revenant that vindicate his attitude.

"It will help now that he knows what an anxiety attack looks like and how his behavior feeds it. I don't think he's completely well either. There aren't many beings who see their own reflection, understand it is themself, and still attack it instinctively." The MRVN pats you on the shoulder before turning on the bedroom television for you, swapping the channel over to the Apex announcement.

You hadn't even realized that. He did attack his own reflection in that moment. If he simply wanted to break the mirror, he would have gone for a right hook that caught the mirror wide, but instead he went for a direct jab. It was a jab with so much power and lethality that it shattered the mirror to penetrate the wall behind it. He only calmed down when his reflection was gone. You remember back at the Apex Facility when his mirror was intentionally smeared with soap, petroleum jelly, or a similar substance to make it opaque and unreflective. You hold your breath for a moment, unsure of what that means. You've heard of people who were scared of their own reflection before, but this isn't fear—this is hate.

"Oh, look! That's her!" The MRVN happily points to a woman on screen who has happily taken a seat at the commentator's table, kicked her feet up on it, let her chair lean back, and is actively throwing back a bottle of beer. You turn your attention to the screen.

"Oh, sorry, are you guys not allowed to drink beer on TV? Shame. More for me I guess." She smirks coyly at the group of anchors who are now huddled together on the opposite end of the table, gawking in awe. She finishes the whole beer in a long swig before turning to look someplace off camera and throwing the bottle. It's a moment before you can hear it land in a trashcan off-screen. "Hell yeah!" She celebrates her small victory.

"So, you're Viper's daughter?" One of them asks, noticeably taken aback by her garrish attitude.

She flicks her head so her silver hair swishes with the motion. Her skin is perfect, her cheeks are slightly flush from the alcohol, but her eyes are a sharp, reflective amber. She's downright gorgeous, but you're not sure who Viper is.

"You bet! Name's Kairi Imahara, but you all can call me Valkyrie." She snaps finger guns in their general direction before leaning over, pulling a fresh bottle of beer up from behind the table, and flicking off its bottle cap using a metal buckle on her boots. She immediately takes another swig. You look on in awe. How can someone about your size manage to throw back carbonated drinks like that, let alone alcohol? You'd be tapping out after one.

"So, uh, Miss Valkyrie—"

"Valk is fine, I don't need all the pleasantries."

"Yes, um, Valk... What is it that you bring to the Apex Games?"

Valkyrie chuckles to herself for a moment.

"Ever heard of Northstar?" She throws her head back, looking to the ceiling, almost in a gesture of nostalgia. The commentators all nod to one another, before one offers an answer.

"Of course, your dad's Titan. It's been decommissioned for—"

"I stole it," she says nonchalantly as she throws her head forward to see her audience. She says it so casually, but her devious smile gives her away as she breaks into a small laugh at the abject horror on the commentator's faces.

She has her laugh before taking another swig of beer and continuing.

"I mean, I stole it when I was a kid. Piloted it myself. No training. Just years of watching good ol' dad." Her smirk turns even more sadistic as the shock washes over their faces.

"You were a child?!"

"Yup. I was lucky. I found my place in the world young, and that place was in the sky." She throws her head back again to look at the ceiling again for a moment. Her smile is still clear despite most of her visage being out of sight. "Northstar is coming with me to the Games."

Now there is audible gasping. One commentator clutches her necklace. Another leans back. Yet another is stunned silent.

"A Titan? In the Apex Games? That's crazy! How is anyone—"

"Not in its original form." She pulls her feet off the table, sits upright, suddenly glowing with a seriousness about her. "Northstar was decommissioned after my dad..." She clears her throat audibly. "After I lost my dad, I knew I couldn't let his legacy die. So, me and a friend took some of the modded parts from Northstar. We made it compact. Made it light. Made it wearable." She reaches behind her, pulling out a white helmet with golden orange stripes and bullet holes in the visor, placing it on the table. Everyone is silent for a long pause.

She sighs, clearly experiencing a moment of grief before she begins to smile again, closing her eyes as if to hold back a slight welling of tears.

"Know this name—Imahara—and always keep an eye on the skies." She says to the camera before hugging the helmet for a long time, eventually pulling off the table and placing it out of view once again.

She looks back to her audience.

"Oh man, did I kill the vibes we had going? Ha, sorry about that." She's back to being charmingly brash as she takes another swig of her bottle, clearly finishing it. "It wouldn't be right of me to not give a little backstory, right?"

One of the commentators adjusts his tie awkwardly to try to regain his composure.

"Yes, um, my apologies Miss Imahara—I mean... Valk. Would you mind answering some questions from the audience? Perhaps give us some insight on you as well as your plans?"

"Of course! Just don't ask me what the capital of Leviathan is. I can never remember that one." She laughs at her own joke while the commentators follow suit, giving them all a chance to regain their composure.

"Well, this one is from, uh, let's see..." he says as he taps away on his tablet. "Aha, from Victoria, age twelve, from Solace."

"Twelve?" She smiles. "I'll drink to that." She rips another beer out, casually bending the cap off using the edge of the table top, and throwing it back. She must have a stomach and liver made of steel.

The commentators give a more genuine laugh at that one.

"Victoria asks: what's your favorite food?"

Valkyrie's eyes light up at the question. Despite the simplicity of such a question, she seems unreasonably eager to answer it.

"Ha! Easy!" She leans back in her chair, swirling the beer in its bottle in the air. "Ramen!"

You grimace and pull your attention back out of the television. You've heard enough. Honestly she seems pretty cool, even if you don't know her heritage. Anyone who has—legally or otherwise—piloted a Titan is clearly talented and worthy of respect, and if her dad was the pilot of a notable Titan, that's even more impressive. Clearly that was her dad's helmet. You could see the grief wash over her when she held it. You think you have heard things about Northstar before, but you can't remember. If its name even remotely jogs your memory, it must have been one of the most powerful ones out there. You normally have no room in your memory banks for those types of things.

The MRVN knocks on the open door to your bedroom, holding a plate of eggs.

"You can come in."

"Isn't she neat?" The MRVN chirps. He must have been watching the broadcast from the television in the living room while he cooked. "I like her a lot, but Pathfinder is still my favorite." You take the plate of eggs as he hands them to you.

"That's understandable, Pathfinder is super nice."

"You've met him?!" The MRVN perks up happily.

"Yeah! Next time I see him, maybe I can bring you a flower from his garden! Or have him sign something for you!" You taste a piece of egg. He's very good at consistently making tasty food. Surprisingly, Revenant manages to make better ones, but you know Revenant goes above and beyond every time he cooks anything. Maybe he enjoyed cooking back when he was human. "Honestly, it's the least I could do for putting up with me and Revenant."

The MRVN tilts his head in confusion.

"You mean Mr. Cross?"

You nearly choke on your eggs. Fuck. Right. He was trying to be incognito and use a fake name. Although you're not sure how he's managed to do so when walking around looking exactly like the Revenant from the Apex Games. The MRVN's optic bulb adjusts a couple times before it brightens again.

"Oh... you do mean Mr. Cross..." The MRVN pulls his pointer finger to his head, holding it over where his mouth might be as if he is pondering deeply. "He lied, I see this now. My deception software update hadn't parsed through older logs yet." Suddenly he goes from pondering to cradling his head. "Oh no! That's the Revenant! I backtalked the Revenant! He could have had me—"

You grab one of his hands and he calms down.

"It's a secret, you can't tell anyone. If you promise not to tell anyone, I'll see if I can get a signature from Pathfinder or some other momento for you." You don't know what else to do but bribe him to stay quiet.

"I promise." He is quick to agree. "I wouldn't want to make him mad. Plus you seem nice."

"Thank you," you say, relaxing and withdrawing before taking another bite of food.

•    •    •    •

You knock on Revenant's door. At some point Royce must have been let back into the main living room, as she's now curled up in sight with the two juvenile prowlers and a short ways from Six. Most of the prowlers are curled up since the MRVN recently fed them; they always seem to want to relax immediately after eating.

You knock again.

It's getting late. The sun has gone down and the windows overlook the glowing signs and screens below lining the streets. Since the fall weather is nice, people are out and walking around. A lot of the screens are showing replays and promos for the upcoming season of the Apex Games, showing off Valkyrie and her sponsor's products as she poses with them. The news was huge and the city's liveliness absolutely reflects that. Taxi and limo horns blare angrily at one another, drunk people can be heard hooting and hollering over the general crowd, and the white noise of hundreds of engines turning over and humming below is barely muffled by the glass panes. You knock again, but even louder this time.

You wait. The scent of an apple spice candle that the MRVN lit a few hours ago is wafting in the air. The light musk that the prowlers normally generate is washed out by the smell, but the warmth of having so many snoring bodies in the same room is significant. The top edge of the windows are also slightly fogged up from the temperature difference. The MRVN is sitting in the corner of the living room, plugged into the wall and recharging. He looks asleep, but you know from experience that they are very much aware even when in sleep mode.

"If you don't answer this time, I'm coming in." You say gently into the door as you knock one last time.

You stare at the white door, noting each paint streak at eye level. It's been long enough.

You open the door just to be hit with a crisp breeze. The sliding glass door to a small balcony is slightly ajar. He's not here. Newspaper clippings pinned to a map of the city on the wall flicker in the wind. It looks like a conspiracy theorists' dream, but without the funny lines of yarn connecting different pins and all centering in on a single location in the city. You can't help but curiously approach the giant map filled with articles.

Each clipping is either an obituary, a police blotter report, or an article about a crime pinned to the location on the map where it presumably occurred. Some of the articles are about murders, drug den busts, trafficking busts, or shootouts between rival gangs; but they're all about crime. Some names are highlighted with a red 'x' at the end of them with an obituary pinned underneath them. Others are highlighted without the red 'x', possibly indicating the perpetrator may still be alive. Different areas of the city have different clusters. Understandably, the worst areas are filled to the point of obfuscation with clippings. Areas like the one you're currently in have a more sparse distribution. There's always less crime in areas with more money and more people at all hours of the day.

This must all be related to him trying to hunt down your abductors. You begin to flip through clippings quickly, looking for any photographs of one man in particular, begging to find his name with a red 'x' beside it. You begin pouring over them with almost as much obsession as it took to make such a wall of madness. You have no idea how long it takes you to stumble upon it, but eventually you see it. That damn, wide-brimmed hat, that toothy scowl, and barely a visible face. It's not a good picture, clearly it's not a mugshot. The article doesn't even have a name. But you'd know that evil smile even if you hadn't met him a second time. Scribbled in black ink across the margin of the article clipping it says "taxi bastard"—a fitting name.

You read the article. Apparently he was caught with tons of illegal pornographic material produced using victims of trafficking, abduction, and even—you stop reading for a moment, unwilling to read that last word and wishing you had let Revenant murder him the first time he offered. Apparently a lot of the pornography also included the torture of victims, sometimes even leading to their death and dismemberment. He sold the copies to the worst perverted sickos looking for a quick fix. According to the article, the payload was revealed when copies were accidentally forwarded to multiple parties, including the police themselves. You know who did that. Even though his warehouse was raided the following day, he had vacated and disappeared. No record of his legal name was found, nor any signs of where he might have gone. The article concludes on the dark note that the police are parsing through each film, trying to document any victims and connect them to cold cases looking for closure. The number of victims estimated to be in the files is estimated to be in the hundreds.

As you try to stop reading, you realize the out of body experience you started having midway through that article. You don't feel your legs, but you are standing on them. You carefully walk back to the door, shutting it and locking out the many animals littered on the living room floor. You meander over to the balcony door and close it the rest of the way, intentionally leaving it unlocked for him. You make it up to his bed and fall into it, unwilling to try to keep walking. You feel so hot with stress and racing thoughts, you don't really hesitate to tear everything off and toss it to the side. You curl up in the pillows, turn off the lone lamp on the nightstand, and begin to bawl in the dark.

You're not even sure why you're crying, just that you can't help it. Your thoughts are tumbling uncontrollably, wondering what fate you might have met had Revenant not come for you. Your nose runs and pounds against its splint. Your eyes are sore in their sockets. Your surgical scars sting despite being fully healed. Your bare skin raises into goosebumps despite how hot it feels. What about everyone else? How could people like him exist? Why were you spared by fate but not the others?

You breathe slowly as the tears dry up. You lose emotional attachment to the concept of being the one that made it out. You feel as if you might die for some reason, but you have no reason to believe that. Still, you curl up tighter in the dark. Perhaps if you remain defenseless and hidden, no one will notice you. Perhaps you can be forgotten by everyone. No more heroes coming to save you, because no more villains will come to victimize you. You feel as if you're floating in a warm ocean, drowning but refusing to fight the current, able to breathe despite the weight on your chest.

Why are you treated so special despite being so cursed?

#apex legends #apex fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #my fanfiction #my fanfic #creative writing #revenant x reader #fluff #romance #revenant #apex revenant #comfort writing #tw: depression #tw: ptsd #tw: mania #tw: bipolar #tw: sharp #tw: pain #tw: graphic content #tw: past abuse

[cheshire-shuntaro]

Movie Night at the Beach

Horror movie night? Ludicrous idea. From Chishiya’s perspective there were no bonds between Beach residents to strengthen, apart from those forged by communal substance consumption. From Hatter’s perspective apparently they were one big family, focused on one big goal. What a load of bullshit.

He went, of course. The curiosity outweighed the feeling of wanting to throw himself out of the window on the thought of going. So — he sauntered towards the pool, swiftly passing by a group of excited cinema nerds speaking in hushed tones, as if their words were ancient secrets of considerable importance. A sizable crowd gathered all around the pool. He moved deeper into mass of people, aware of every scent coming into his nostrils. Sadly for his nostrils, it was mostly cigarette smoke, vomit and cocaine dust.

Then he saw her, a shock of red hair positioned on a mattress near the edge of the pool. Jade. No surprise she was there, she inquired him about horror movies a couple of times. On a few occasions. Once in the canteen when his mouth was stuffed full of scrambled eggs. Once in the library when he was deep in thought, reading a neurology book. She always found him when he was focused on something, as if she was trying to test him, grade him on his multitasking abilities. It was his turn to distract her.

He knew that merely his physical presence there will break her concentration, so he simply went up to her. Determined to not answer any questions, seem like he is there by a coincidence. But then… she did not give up, she kept asking and probing and scaring. It was rather amusing, like a puppy demanding attention, but also sweet in its own way.

“You know what?” He asked cocking his head to the side, sitting at the edge of the pool. His legs submerged in the chlorine-treated water, space-blue under the light of the projector. “I shall stay but if I have a dreadful time just remember that I know where you live” Chishiya said, snatching the cocktail from Jade’s hand.

Strangely enough, the time spent watching “The Autopsy of Jane Doe” was not dreadful at all. On the contrary, he had fun, he even slightly recoiled one time during a jumpscare. Naturally, he did not stay until the very end, but he made sure to show appreciation for broadening his horror film horizons.

At the end of the projection in the place where Chishiya was sitting instead of the blonde man was the cocktail glass, snatched from Jade’s hand. It was full, not a sip of alcohol was drunk from it, but inside of it, bending the light that passed through the liquid was a silver surgical scalpel.

He hoped she will put it to good use.

@misshorrormovies

#weeklyprompt004 #cheshireshuntaro #misshorrormovies

[theharlotofferelden]

Thoughts on Modern AU Solas

Fastidious and tidy Solas who is very put together and clean who has an immaculate sense of fashion and put-togetherness is valid and I agree with the characterization that this is a guy who would 100% get a mani/pedi with zero shame because he cares about his nail beds and sees this kind of pampering as self care.

However

I also like fuddy, has-too-many-deadlines-and-desperately-needs-a-shower Solas who doesn't have the time for fashion and literally wears oversized sweaters and ugly flannels that are always wrinkled and never rolled up at the elbows because when he's stressed he dresses for comfort and has a very specific rotation of clothes that fit this bill.

He maybe has 2 pairs of shoes that are decent looking (one pair casual, one formal) but his comfort shoes are his cheap ass hush puppies he bought used at a thrift store. He refuses to buy new ones because he believes in reusing and recycling despite public ~sensibilities~ about fashion and doesn't see the point in replacing something that already fills his needs.

His apartment has a specific organization system that in recent months has devolved into pure chaos because he spends most of his spoons writing his dissertation. His art studio has now migrated to the middle of his living room because it has the best natural lighting. Sketches are spread out on the coffee table with a small unfinished sculpture in the center. All manner of books (though mostly art books) are piled on the couch. The small flatscreen tv is covered with a waterproof tarp that's covered in paint, and is blocked by a number of large canvases that have been primed for painting.

Most of the furniture he owns is thrifted, mismatched, "lived in" and surprisingly comfortable. What he doesn't thrift, he rigs together himself using repurposed plywood and cardboard. Pretty much all the shelves in his apartment are shelves he put together himself. He's actually a pretty skilled carpenter who will decorate his projects with elvhen designs. But most of what he makes for himself is plain looking and obviously jerry-rigged together.

The only thing Solas is consistent about is watering his plants, which he has hanging in the windows and in repurposed cottage cheese containers and buckets. Solas has whole tables of succulents and exotic flowers that he grows as a hobby and occasionally gives to people as gifts during the holidays or on their birthdays.

When Lavellan comes to his apartment for the first time she just sees huge bags of stuff everywhere, and when she finds out it’s all recycling she loses her mind and takes him down to the local Stop n Shop to recycle that shit.

#dragon age #dragon age inquisition #solas #lavellan #dragon age headcanon #personal: my headcanons #this has been sitting in my drafts since last year plz take it from me #i still stand by this #also i want to draw him wearing hush puppies you don't understand

[skz-chatbot]

Minnie: a mamas boy in the making.

Veronica: oh hush. He just missed his eomma

Minnie: *kisses* I miss you more. This stupid campaign might actually turn me into a supervillain.

Veronica: baby what’s wrong? I thought the project was going well.

Minnie: it was.

Innie: the client is being awful to puppy. 🐶

❤️‍🔥

*nods and huffs* lemme talk to em

#chan answers #bang chan #skz ❤️‍🔥 anon

[rockislandadultreads]

National Grilling Month: Cookbook Recommendations

Master of the Grill edited by America’s Test Kitchen

Part field guide to grilling and barbecuing and part cookbook, Master of the Grill features a wide variety of kitchen-tested recipes for meat, poultry, seafood, vegetables, pizza, and more. These are the recipes everyone should know how to make— the juiciest burgers, barbecue chicken that’s moist not tough, tender grill-smoked pork ribs, the greatest steak (and grilled potatoes to serve alongside). Regional specialties are included, too—learn how to make Cowboy Steaks, Alabama BBQ Chicken, and Kansas City Sticky Ribs. Colorful photography captures the beauty of the recipes and step-by-step shots guide you through everything you need to know. A section on grilling essentials covers the pros and cons of gas and charcoal grills and which might be right for you, as well as the tools you’ll use with them— such as grill brushes, tongs, vegetable baskets, and wood chips and chunks.

How to Grill Everything by Mark Bittman

Here’s how to grill absolutely everything—from the perfect steak to cedar-plank salmon to pizza—explained in Mark Bittman’s trademark simple, straightforward style. Featuring more than 250 recipes and hundreds of variations, plus Bittman’s practical advice on all the grilling basics, this book is an exploration of the grill’s nearly endless possibilities. Recipes cover every part of the meal, including appetizers, seafood, meat and poultry, vegetables (including vegetarian mains), and even desserts. Plenty of quick, high-heat recipes will get dinner on the table in short order (Spanish-Style Garlic Shrimp, Green Chile Cheeseburgers); low and slow “project” recipes (Texas-Style Smoked Brisket, Pulled Pork with Lexington BBQ Sauce) are ideal for leisurely weekend cookouts. You’ll also find unexpected grilled treats like avocado, watermelon, or pound cake, and innovative surprises—like how to cook paella or bake a whole loaf of bread on the grill—to get the most out of every fire.

Grilling Vegan Style by John Schlimm

Nothing says summer more than a feast hot off the barbecue. Grilling Vegan Style serves up backyard cooking and entertaining like never before. Running the gamut from plant-based appetizers, salads, sides, kabobs, and burgers to main dishes, desserts, and, of course, cocktails, John Schlimm also demonstrates the art of grilling faux meats, with key info on everything you need for proper heat and the best taste. With color photographs throughout, this cookbook ensures that the magic of a summer barbecue or a night around the campfire can ignite your taste buds all year long.

Rodney Scott’s World of BBQ by Rodney Scott

Rodney Scott was born with barbecue in his blood. He cooked his first whole hog, a specialty of South Carolina barbecue, when he was just eleven years old. At the time, he was cooking at Scott's Bar-B-Q, his family's barbecue spot in Hemingway, South Carolina. Now, four decades later, he owns one of the country's most awarded and talked-about barbecue joints, Rodney Scott's Whole Hog BBQ in Charleston.

In this cookbook, co-written by award-winning writer Lolis Eric Elie, Rodney spills what makes his pit-smoked turkey, barbecued spare ribs, smoked chicken wings, hush puppies, Ella's Banana Puddin', and award-winning whole hog so special. Moreover, his recipes make it possible to achieve these special flavors yourself, whether you're a barbecue pro or a novice. From the ins and outs of building your own pit to poignant essays on South Carolinian foodways and traditions, this stunningly photographed cookbook is the ultimate barbecue reference. It is also a powerful work of storytelling. In this modern American success story, Rodney details how he made his way from the small town where he worked for his father in the tobacco fields and in the smokehouse, to the sacrifices he made to grow his family's business, and the tough decisions he made to venture out on his own in Charleston.

#cookbooks #cooking #grilling #Food and Drink #nonfiction #Nonfiction Reading #nonfiction books #nonfiction reads #Library Books #Book Recommendations #book recs #Reading Recs #reading recommendations #TBR pile #tbr #tbrpile #to read #Want To Read #Booklr #book tumblr #book blog #library blog

[myfeetkeepdancing]

“You want to d-do it with me?” | Peter Parker x Male!Reader

"You want to d-do it with me?" Peter stood there frozen on the spot. Eyeing you. All the while, the mass of students flooded the hallways like a tidal wave. The distance between the two of you was enough for the students to rush through.

Faces whiz by as the crowd gathers momentum. Shifting rapidly through the halls. You weren't going to get denied an answer. This was your moment. This is what you worked yourself up to. This was your chance. Mustering every bit of courage, you step into the fray, keeping eye contact with Peter. Placing each step with considered care. Not wanting to get caught up in the motion. "It's more of a question." You stepped back into the conversation and out of the stream. Finally closer to Peter. "In case you weren't already with Ned? Cause I cou-..."

"No… N-NO!" Peter darted forward. Facing you up real close. No space for anyone to pass through. He smiles a bit awkwardly before shooting a quick glance behind him. It's as if fate played its part. From the crowd, you notice Ned and MJ. Ned all happy and enthusiastic, waving towards Peter and you. Navigating himself in your direction. MJ loosely following behind. They're only moments away from reaching you. Peter's attention darts back. "Ned is not with me. I'm not with Ned. Or MJ. Or anyone." Speaking ever faster as Ned closes in. Stealing a quick glance over his shoulder. Faking some sort of smile towards Ned. "We can…" He smiled sheepishly, speaking in a hushed tone. Not that Ned or MJ were able to hear it. "We eh… can do a… the... project… t-together."

"Awesome." Clapping your hands together. Startling Peter for a second as his eyes never leave yours. Ned tugs and pulls on Peter, clearly trying to get him to move to the next class. You feel bad for Ned as Peter shrugs him off in favor of talking to you. You watch Ned miraculously agree with Peter's rude comment, and steps to the side. Playing with his phone for a bit. You feel like saying something. But Peter's eyes staring at you get to you. Like those lost puppy eyes people always refer to. Peter sure had those too. All big and soft. His fingers fumbling with the edges of the sweater. You feel a lump in your throat. A warm sensation brewed deep inside. You have to mentally kick yourself so as not to get lost in those eyes. "So… I'm done at two. When are yo-..."

"Two is fine. Perfect. Good. Yeah." He nodded in agreement, not letting you finish your sentence. "I-I… I'll be here at two. I mean at the gate."

"Dude! We have algebra after." Ned pointed out as he interjected into the conversation. But Peter didn't hear him. Or didn't want to.

"Cool." You smiled as you watched Ned trying to reach Peter again. But Peter being completely oblivious to his remarks. The feeling of victory washed over you. Finally. You managed it after all. All those classes sneaking peeks at him. Feeling lost in the ones without him. "See you then, Peter." Straightening yourself with prowess.

"Thanks." He smiled thinly, staring at you. Ned, baffled by Peters's ignorance, sighs, shrugs his shoulders, and walks away, shaking his head. "Eh… I mean bye."

Another nod and smile are exchanged as you begin shuffling away from him. Then it hits you; you turn on your heel and instinctively start waving him back. You hadn't walked that far, but Peter hadn't moved. Peter just stood there. Smiling. "Peter, c-can I get your number?" Fishing the phone from your pocket, your fingers swipe left and right to create a new contact. You cringe a little at how your voice cracked as you asked the question. "Just in case something comes up. Or if I can't find you."

"Y-Yeah... sure." He nods with big eyes. "Ehm… It s-starts with-..." The mass of students left and right drown each of the numbers and sounds from Peter's mouth. His stuttering and hand signaling don't help much as Peter's inability to speak properly messes it up the further you come along the number. Correcting it every number or so.

"Why don't you fill it in?" You hand him your phone and try to chuckle away the awkwardness. You notice his shaking hands, the trembles rocking his fingers. His touches don't register correctly as he tries to fill in his number. You try to look away as he clearly struggles. Rubbing his hands and your phone against his sweater. "How about you hand me your phone." Peter stares at you as if he didn't hear you. "Your phone." He clumsily hands back yours and his with a smile.

"You need to unlock it." You say and turn the screen towards him. For a brief moment, your fingers touch and almost intertwine as Peter reaches for his phone. They feel clammy. Shaking a little against yours. "You know you're doing me a big favor by doing this project with me."

"R-Really?" Peter eyed you with admiration as he hung on to your every word. You couldn't tell who was more nervous. For a long time, Peter felt far out of your league, only sharing a very few classes with him. Interactions were little to none, unfortunately. There were always a few rows between you and him. Yet, among the hundreds of students, Peter somehow stood out to you. But you could never find him. Ever. So if this was it, this would be time to come clean. Spill the beans.

"Yeah. I'm the worst at alchemy. Can't seem to get a grasp on the material. So I'm hoping you can teach me along the way. Or one-on-one some other time." That last sentence spilled from your mouth without a second thought. Was it too much? Your mind did think so as the warmth shot up your back, and a sensation similar to shame crept into you. A thousand thoughts ran through your mind as you feel your cheeks begin to warm. You're lost staring at him. Waiting for an answer. Peter just smiles. Staring back at you.

"I think Peter would love to teach you in his spare time." You hear MJ voice herself. "One-on-one action." Nudging Peter against his back. The distance between you and Peter was so small, that you almost bumped into one another as Peter snapped back into reality by MJ's nudge. You swear you could hear and feel Peter breathe. It's mesmerizing in a strange way. Peter chuckled a bit as his face began to flush red with color. You recognize her from your classes. "Wouldn't you, Peter?"

"Yeah. I… eh… think I can do that." Peter stammered. "I'll gladly help you."

"Are you sure? I heard you're pretty busy." You smile and take the phone from Peter's hand as he stands there baffled by MJ's comment. Phone unlocked and ready to go. "I heard something about a Stark Internship or something. That sounds incredible. You have to tell me about that someday."

"Interesting." MJ tilted her head to one side. Peter's tight eyes and pursed lips foreshadowed nothing good. "I heard something about Peter doing male escort service." You never thought Peter's face could turn redder than it already was. You feel yourself freeze on the spot, unsure what to think of the comment, especially with seeing a sort of smile crack through MJ's otherwise stale expression.

"What?! NO! I showed you the ID card for the S-Stark Tower!" Peter shot out. "And the selfie with Mister Stark!"

"Just keeping up with the rumors." And shrugged her shoulders as he continued nibbling the top of her pencil as she continued on her sketch. "And that selfie could have been photoshopped." She flicks effortlessly into the conversation.

"Ooh my… G-..." Peter bites down his curse and anger as he stares at MJ. "Will you please stop talking?"

"Only trying to help."

"You're not!" Peter quipped back as he tried to gather himself, turning back to you. Trying to bring back his smile. But your mind is conflicted. The thought of Peter as a male escort. 'Don't Google that tonight.' You keep repeating it in your mind. But the longer and harder you try to suppress the thought. The eager you get to find out.

"Just pick a date already." MJ murmured while sketching. The awkwardness was complete. You're staring at one another. Mind clearly occupied by processing what just happened. "A date. Study date. Date to study." MJ continued playing with words. At this point you can guess Peter's misery to be complete. You can't help but feel bad for him. But can't find the words to convey it. You're just dumbstruck.

"Right… Ehm, yeah, we'll sort a date out… later." You felt how loaded the word 'date' really meant now that you spoke it yourself. That flinch that went through Peter as he looked at you. The air stocked in your throat for a moment. The warmth spreads through you. It's almost like you forget how to breathe. And MJ was playing right into it from the get-go.

"Yeah… Okay." Peter nodded. "Sure. We'll… text."

"S-So, if-... if… there's a favor I can return-..." You offer while filling in the last bits of your contact. It's a strange sensation. Something is playing a part on your nerves and affects your whole body. Words tremble from your lips. Shattered by your nerves. "-... you l-let me know. I'm in your debt, Peter." Handing back his phone.

"T-Thanks…" Peter mutters, almost dropping his phone. With big eyes he stares at your contact info. "I'll… think of… something."

"Okay. Good. See you… later." And excuse yourself. "Two, right?" Peter nods in agreement as you start your way towards the next class.

"A shame Valentine's Day has passed already." MJ teased Peter as she walked past him, tucking the pencil behind her ear. "So cute." Peter is in no state to answer and slumps against the lockers beside him. Sweat was gushing down from his armpits. His heart racing in his chest.

Like a zombie, you wander aimlessly through the halls occupied by the many thoughts and imaginations claiming your mind. Peter as your project partner. That was one thing. How long did you dream about that? But it was overshadowed by the other, despite every effort to push down the thought of escort Peter. Your mind thinks otherwise. Where smoke is, is usually fire. And what seemed more likely? From the thousands of students, one random smart kid you somehow know is working at Stark Industries. Wouldn't such a thing be mentioned in the papers? In the news, maybe?

Or a random student working as a male escort? College was expensive as it is. And honestly, you've heard about wilder jobs than that. Once again, trying to outweigh the one against the other wasn't going to help. At the end of the day you were going to meet Peter again. Rather face him. What a thought. The hours crept by terrifyingly slowly.

This was going to be a long day. And night. You thought to yourself as a mass of conflicting thoughts flooded your mind. What did you want to be true? Deep down, you knew. If only…

#peter parker x male!reader #peter parker x male reader #spiderman x male reader #spiderman x male!reader #male!reader #peter parker #peter parker male reader #peter parker tom holland #male reader #mlm #mlm love #peter parker im #spiderman imagine

[tea-brain]

I feel pretty guilty for being /that/ person, and sitting at my computer, refreshing the d gray man Big Bang Tumblr repeatedly until the fic claim post appears, and immediately copying and pasting my pre-prepared details into the google form for Maximum Efficiency,,

But in my defence. My criteria were,, specific.

And also. I may have assumed everyone else would be trying to get in too. It wasn’t until hours later when I thought to check the claims so far, that I realised literally no normal person does what I did.

Uh. Forgive me? 😭😭

#hush puppy #i really oughta join discord #but also #im bad at talking to people #and im constantly second guessing my decision to participate #given that i dont read much fic #AND YET I AM SO KEEN #TO PUSH MYSELF AND DO AWESOME ILLUSTRATIONS FOR THIS PROJECT #RIP ME

[bubbletaeeee]

Cockwarming With Dreamcatcher - Dreamcatcher x Fem!Reader

Requested: yes😏

Content: Smut, Fluff

Warnings: sex, cockwarming, g!p,

A/N: I’m not too familiar with cockwarming but I hope this is okay🥰

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

JiU

You and Minji were cuddled up on the sofa with a blanket covering you both. But you were starting to get a little bored, and instead of watching the screen, you were watching her, the curve of her lips, the way she played with your fingers intertwined with hers, the way her chest rises everytime she inhales soft breaths, she was beautiful.

But only a couple of minutes later she could see you watching her in the corner of her eye and paused the movie to face you.

And that’s when you crawled onto her lap for a short needy make out session. She quickly got the hint and unbuttoned her jeans in no time at all for you to ride her, letting all your urges go. You were clingy and needy for her right now and you didn’t want anything else.

After about 10 minutes, the two of you came together, screaming in ecstasy. You collapsed onto her shoulder, staying where you were.

You both took your time catching your breaths whilst she stroked your hair lovingly until she fidgeted a little but you held her still by the shoulders and looked into her eyes nervously. She immediately asked what was wrong and you began to blush and asked, “c-can I actually stay here- can we stay like this?”

She just smiled softly and reassured you, “of course baby, as long as you want”.

You shuffled a little to hide your embarrassment in her neck, the slight movement caused an accidental moan leave her lips. You giggled teasingly as she held you close

SuA

Your girlfriend tossed and turned beside you, accidentally ripping the blanket off of you to wrap herself up.

You let out an impatient sigh and rubbed her shoulder, she just whined

“Baaaabe I can’t sleep, it’s freezing”, she pouted.

You spooned her from behind and ran your fingers along her sides comfortingly.

When you came up with an idea and smirked, as your fingertips ran along her sides, you left a kiss on the back of her neck and snuck your hand under her shirt. Her breath hitched and she asked

“What are you doing?”

“I can warm you up, honey”, you whispered seductively.

She hummed In response and let you do your thing, ending up straddling her with the blanket covering you both, you laid kisses down her body.

Once you reached her thighs, you grinned up at her and slid under the blanket to suck on her cock.

She gripped the pillows and bit down on her lip aggressively as the waves of pleasure hit her. With a hot shiver and a loud whimper, she came right in your mouth.

Thinking you were done right there, she leaned her head back and closed her eyes to steady her breathing.

But it caught her by surprise when she felt a tight, warm sensation on her sensitive length, making her gasp and sit up on her elbows.

You hushed her gently and delicately pushed her back down. Laying yourself on top of her.

She didn’t question you and instead ended up falling asleep with her still inside of you. She couldn’t lie. It did give her a lot of warmth and comfort.

Siyeon

Siyeon was sitting at her desk, writing out song ideas and lyrics for her next project. She’s been engrossed in her work all day, you were really missing her touch and love. It felt lonely without her near you all the time.

So you made your way into the bedroom, in just your silky robes bra and thong. She didn’t see you until you sat yourself up on the desk centimetres away to where she was working.

She froze and stared up at you, leaning against her hand, propped up by her elbow on the desk.

You stared down back at her with puppy eyes, she immediately notices and cooed

“What’s wrong my darling?”

You pouted and admitted to her that you missed her.

She hummed and scanned your whole body with her eyes, making bite your lower lip nervously.

She pulled you onto her lap by your thighs swiftly, caressing them.

You hid your face in her shoulder and mumbled, “can we try something out?”

She let out a soft laugh and lifted your chin to look at her, “sweetness, you need to talk to me properly okay?”

You nodded innocently and asked again with a blush, “can we try something out?”

Your girlfriend held your hands to ease your shyness, no matter how cute she thought it was.

“What is it, hmm?”

You stared down at her hands, fiddling with them.

“I kind of… wanted to try out umm… cockwarming with you”, the last words coming out quickly.

She smirked and tucked your hair behind your ear.

“Don’t be shy my love, of course we can”

And with that, she guided your hands to her belt, hinting for you to unbuckle it.

Handong

Not long ago, handong came through the door after a long day of work. She was now in the kitchen cooking the two of you dinner. Humming away to 'BEcause’.

You enjoyed listening to her voice, even if it was just a hum, and the thought of her cooking for both of you warmed your heart and made you feel so lucky. She’s so so good to you.

Today though, you were feeling a little curious and adventurous.

You slowly made your way behind her and wrapped your arms around her waist, leaning against her back with your head against her shoulder.

She giggled softly and greeted you, “hi, love”

You sighed calmly and kissed her shoulder.

She moved around the kitchen, dishing up what she’d just cooked onto two plates but you still didn’t let go and kept your grip firmly around her waist.

Just after she dished it up, she finally turned in your arms and looked at your face which held a naughty grin and gave you a sweet kiss on the lips.

“What kind of mischief are you planning now”, she joked.

You said nothing but left soft kisses onto her neck. She giggled and pulled back from you, placing her hands on both of your cheeks.

“What’s going on honey”, she asked lightheartedly.

You simply pressed further against her, making sure to grind a little against her most sensitive, private area.

“I wanna try something together”, you whispered seductively.

But now you’d turned her into a stuttering mess because she had no idea what to say to your tone of voice.

But you didn’t need an answer and instead told her, “can we try cockwarming together tonight babe?”, you requested with a teasing pout.

“I-I mean… yeah. Sure”, she accepted with a nervous laugh.

You bit down on her ear and spoke lowly, “we can try it after dinner and after I’ve had a little dessert”

She was stunned, she stood frozen in front of you, the only movement coming from the slight nod of her head as she picked up your plates to go sit down.

Yoohyeon

It’s late in the evening, yoohyeon still hadn’t come home yet.

You admired how hard working she was but you wish she’d take a break sometimes because she deserves it, and you were missing her very much.

It’s 11pm and she just walked through the door, the house was silent as she made her way quietly upstairs, standing at the door of your bedroom, admiring the heartwarming sight in front of her of you sleeping peacefully in bed.

She carefully approached you and laid by your side, spooning you from behind. Her touch stirred you awake from your sleep and you smiled warmly.

Except you had an idea, you’d wanted to do it for a while and yoohyeon put herself in a position that made it easy for you to initiate.

She felt you begin to lightly grind up against her, she couldn’t help but hide her face in your back and mumbled shyly, “darling, what are you doing?”

You giggled and moved her hand from your stomach to your hips, letting her hands guide them.

“I just miss you”, you told her innocently.

She hummed, “well In that case”

And with that, she pushed her hard length deep inside you, the unexpected sensation made you moan loudly.

You buried your face into your pillow as she thrusted in and out of you. Muffled moans fell from your lips constantly up until you both came together, moaning in unison.

Just as she pulled out, you whined.

“Noo no, stay inside me”

She giggled tiredly, “why baby?”

“Because I… I wanted to try it out for a while. It seems so comfortable”

She kissed then back of your neck and gently pushed her cock right back inside of you.

“That better, sweetie?”

You backed up even closer into her and nodded

“Stay like this with me”

She caught on to what you wanted and held onto you tight as you fell asleep together.

Dami

You slowly walked out from your shared bedroom to the living room, where you found dami sitting on the sofa reading one of her books.

You stood, leaning against the doorway, staring at your beautiful girlfriend. She saw you in the corner of her eye and smiled.

“Hey, my love, are you okay?”

The sound of her deep voice made you smile even wider as you slowly approached her.

She put her book down beside her and reached out her arm to hold your hand. In one swift move, you sat down gently onto her lap, where she rested her other hand on your thigh, as your arms hugged around her neck. She tilted her head at you.

“So… I wanted to try something”

“Oh? What is it my girl?”

You ran your hand down her chest stopping at the waistband of her sweats.

“I was hoping we could try- Umm…”

She noticed your nervousness and kissed your cheek, “don’t be shy sweetheart, you can tell me”

A light shade of red appeared in your cheeks at her words.

“Maybe we could try… cockwarming?”

Dami isn’t usually too experimental when it comes to things like this, but she wasn’t opposed to the idea.

She wasn’t the type of girl to be into extreme kinks and sexual fantasies but this sounded quite sweet and intimate to her so she agreed to the idea.

“We can try it out if you want my baby”

You snapped your head up at her, “wait. Really?”

“Of course”, she giggled as she stood up with you still in her arms, carrying you to your bedroom to fulfil your affectionate request.

Turns out your girlfriend was perfectly into it, you both had a couple of rounds of sweet, loving sex before you set yourself down on her and stayed that way.

She must’ve been comfortable, judging by the fact she’d fallen asleep underneath you with her arms wrapped securely around your naked body.

Gahyeon

You had a long day at work and you couldn’t wait to get home to see your sweet, bubbly girlfriend.

She had a smile that could light up your mood immediately.

So as soon as you walked through the door, you called for her and she soon came running towards you with her arms open wide for a hug.

She’s already got you smiling by holding you in a close, warm embrace.

You sighed, “it’s so good to come home and see you”

She giggled and kissed your head, “bad day honey?”

You nodded and stayed in her arms, taking in her comforting scent. She came up with an idea.

“How about we take a bubble bath together?”

You nodded happily and followed her into the bathroom.

Keeping your arms around her from behind as she ran the water and threw in a pretty purple bath bomb.

The two of you stripped off your clothes and climbed into the warm, lavender scented water.

You sat opposite her and gave her a mischievous grin as you threw bubbles at her, she giggled and returned the attack, you both fought this way for a little until you calmed down and sat there staring at her gorgeous face as she smiled widely.

Her smile melted your heart more than she knew.

She caught you staring at her with a small smile and asked, “whats on your mind sweetie?”

You simply smiled in reply and scooted close to her until your legs were either side of her thighs, hovering above her cock.

Her hands rested on your thighs as you put your hands on her cheeks.

“So… I’ve been thinking, we could try something?”

“What is it you wanna try baby?”, she tilted her head at you.

You kissed her lips and asked, “i wanna try cockwarming with you”

She teased, “ohhh are we kinky now?”, with a smirk.

You moved your arms to loop them around her neck and smiled at her teasing humour.

“Now? I’ve always been this way”, you joked with a seductive tone.

“Well… of course we can try it honey, get on top”

You kissed her cheek and set yourself down slowly until she was completely inside of you.

Now and then she would move her hips a little, ‘accidentally’ thrusting slightly just to tease you and watch you bite your lip to hold back any sounds.

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