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thetriumphantpanda · 3 months

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new perspective | joel miller

Summary | the summed wedged between finishing your undergraduate degree and starting on your graduate programme just got a lot better when Joel Miller turns out to feel exactly the same about you as you do to him.

Pairing | dbf!Joel Miller x F!Reader

Word Count | 3.7k

Warnings | Explicit Smut. dbf!Joel makes his return on my blog, mentions of food and alcohol, Joel being competent and fixing stuff, the classic dbf trop of a cookout, sex while your parents are around, oral sex (f), masturbation (m), unprotected PiV, talk of contraception, dirty talk, praise kink, THE RETURN OF MIRROR SEX BY THETRIUMPHANTPANDA, no outbreak au, no use of Y/N.

Authors Note | I missed dad's best friend Joel so I wrote him :) I hope you like him. This is a standalone but I won't rule out adding more in this universe if y'all like it. I have to shoutout @hellishjoel for talking me through how to make a moodboard so beautifully, thank you honey! If you like this, consider reblogging/commenting/leaving asks for me - it really helps!

Please follow @thetriumphantpandanotifs for my writing updates.

Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi

The incessant dripping of the kitchen tap is driving you insane. You’d come back to Texas for the summer to relax. Hoping to leave behind shoddy workmanship that your landlord refused to fix because he would do it when you moved out, ready for the next lot of college kids to come in. If your dad had mentioned the dripping kitchen tap, the creaky floorboards on the stairs and the issue with water pressure that meant showering took longer than necessary, maybe you’d have stayed where you were.

“Someone’s comin’ to take a look at that later,” He’d said on his way out to work that morning, head tilting towards the kitchen, “Should be here after lunch.”

You’d waved him off, barely looking up from the book you were reading, legs outstretched on the couch with your notepad and pen resting on the arm. Wasn’t much of a summer when you were going straight from your undergraduate degree into a graduate programme.

As the day moved on, the heat got worse. Glasses of ice water turning lukewarm before you had a chance to cool down. The patio door open, hoping for a breeze every now and then, but finding no reprieve. The ice pop doesn’t even help that much, melting too quickly before you had a chance to enjoy it.

It’s pushing 2pm when there’s a knock at the door. Reading material and notepad pushed onto the floor, trash TV on in the background as you try not to sweat to death. It takes you a minute to register the noise, so long that whoever it is here to look at the tap knocks again.

You pull open the door, wincing when the heat of the sun being let in sinks across your skin. The change in light means it’s a few seconds before your eyes adjust to who it is standing in front of you. Joel Miller.

It’s been a while since you’ve seen him. He’s been busy, according to your dad, building his business with Tommy. Lots of out of town trips now Sarah is grown and away to college for her first year - schedules not quite lining up for you to see him when you come home, but God are you glad you have the chance now. He’s older now, obviously, greying a little. His hair has grown too, curls flopping onto his forehead and around his ears. He looks broader now than he did - the physical labour obviously working in his favour - you can see the arms of his t-shirt straining around the muscles there, but as you let your eyes trail down a little, you’re pleased to see that he clearly still enjoys his barbecue and beer.

“Y’gonna let me in, sweetheart?” He asks and that Southern drawl hasn’t changed either, low and slow, tickling just the right parts of your brain as they always had.

You’d thought whatever it was that you felt for him was just some silly schoolgirl crush, but the longer he hung around, the older he got, the more you realised he wasn’t something you’d grow out of liking. Not even the fair amount of fooling around at college had helped - boys that had no idea what they were doing, who couldn’t take instruction to save their lives. Whenever they’d leave, you’d lie there, sheets pulled up under you chin, and think, Joel Miller would never leave me like that - wet, wanting and unsatisfied.

“Sorry,” You mumble, taking a side step to let him in, “Here to fix the tap, right?”

“That’s right,” He replies, walking in and straight to the kitchen - he spends more of his time here than you do now, “Nice t’see you back for a while.”

You close the door, stopping off to lean over the couch and grab your half-empty water glass before following behind him to the kitchen.

“Weird to be back, honestly,” You muse, pulling a fresh glass out of the cupboard, “Didn’t think this place would ever change much, but it feels different.”

“Probably you that’s changed,” He talks as he opens the toolbox he’s bought with him, “Got a different perspective on things now you live in the big city.”

“You’re probably right,” You agree, filling the glasses with ice and water, sipping from one and putting the other near to where Joel is working, “And the fact no-one else left I suppose - did you know Becca from my year at school has had two kids since I’ve been away?”

Joel let’s out a low whistle as he uses some tool to tighten something on the tap, sighing when it doesn’t stop the leaking, “Two kids at your age?” He asks, “I could barely deal with Sarah, I don’t know how folks do it.”

“Yeah, me neither,” You shrug, leaning against the kitchen counter, “I can barely keep myself alive.”

He turns his head, his brown eyes roving you up and down, is he…? Is he checking you out? He lets out a little cough and reaches for his water, taking two deep drinks of it before he turns back to the job at hand, sinking to his knees on the floor to open the cupboard under the sink. He’s got his head inside it when he speaks again.

“I don’t know,” He muses, “You look pretty alive to me.”

“Thanks,” you chuckle, “Best compliment I’ve ever received.”

You can hear him laugh a little from under the sink, the noise punctuated with the sounds of him gently hammering at something.

“Can you pass me the screwdriver down?” He asks, an arm extending out towards you as you rifle through his toolbox, setting the tool in his hand when you find it.

It doesn’t take him much longer to fix whatever was wrong, the dripping from the faucet stopping, giving you the sweet relief of silence, save for him groaning as he stands from his knees.

“Maybe time to retire, old man?” You offer with a smirk as he shoves the tools back into the box.

“Careful,” He warns, but his voice is light and you know he’s teasing, “I’m in the prime of my life.”

“Whatever you say.”

“I’m all done,” He says a few moments later once he’s cleaned up, “Tell your dad I’ll be back sometime in the week to look at the shower.”

You follow him back to the door, like a lost puppy on his heel, wanting to spend as much time as possible in his company before he leaves.

“Thanks for coming,” You say when he opens the door, “The dripping was driving me wild.”

“No problem sweetheart, my pleasure,” He smiles, “Anythin’ else you let your dad know he can call me, okay?” You nod in response, about to close the door, “It’s real good to see you again.”

“You too, Joel.”

It’s been just over a week since Joel had fixed the tap. He’d been back and forth to tinker with the other issues throughout the house, talking to you here and there, but tonight is the first time he’ll be here without the pretence of needing to fix something. It’s always the same in Southern households in the summer - each household in a group of friends taking turns to host some form of dinner for everyone else, eating together in the name of community.

There’s a table full of food - your mother had made enough side dishes to feed the five thousand, potato salad, fresh bread and enough green salad that you’d all be eating it for days afterwards. The fridge stocked full of beer and wine and the crowning glory of a cheesecake you’d slaved over for hours yesterday.

Joel is here, along with Tommy, and your neighbours on both sides too. Your mom and dad had invited friends from work, but just like you’d expected, none of your friends from before you left were able to make it - prior commitments of children, husbands and work.

It’s a low-key affair, a table full of grilled meat and sides and plenty of alcohol, but it’s the alcohol that’s made this difficult for you. With Joel sitting right next you, smelling of cologne and entirely unaware that you’re creaming in your panties about wanting him to fuck you.

You’d not been subtle today either - picking the shortest dress you own, bending over to pick something up in front of him, laughing at his jokes and pressing against him at the table whenever he says something interesting or funny - you want him to know that you want him, you want him to know that he’s all you’ve been able to think about since he showed up on the porch last week.

And you think he does. When you rest a hand on his knee under the table after a particularly funny story about his apprentice and a drill on the worksite, he gives you a pointed look, but doesn’t brush your hand away, and when you announce to the table that you need to use the bathroom and cool down a little, you’re halfway up the stairs when you hear his footsteps following you - almost hunting you into the bathroom and closing the door.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doin’, sugar.”

Got him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Joel.” You smirk, turning around to lean against the sink as the bathroom door closes with a snick.

“Though you were a smart city girl now,” He muses, leaning his back against the door - you don’t miss his hand turning the lock, “You know exactly what I’m talkin’ about.”

“Maybe you should explain it to me,” You say, looking up at him through your lashes, “I’d hate for us to have crossed wires.”

He shakes his head, but you can see the twitch of his mouth upwards, “Firstly, this little number,” His hand waves at your dress, barely short enough to cover your ass, “And the way you’ve been bendin’ over all night right when I happen to be lookin’, sittin’ right next to me, the way you’re puttin’ your hands on my leg whenever you laugh?” You shrug in response, “Definitely not the sweet girl I remember before you left.”

“Things change,” You offer, “New perspectives and all that.”

“And those new perspectives make you wanna fuck this old man?” He asks, eyebrow raised.

“Is that such a crime?”

“College boys ain’t doin’ it for you?”

“No.” You reply simply, trying to keep your grin from blooming as he starts stepping towards you until you can feel the heat from his body.

He’s looming over you, hands on either side of your body, caging you between his body and the sink. You look up, find his face close to yours and waste no time in pressing up onto your tiptoes to kiss him.

It’s soft. Softer than you’d imagined from him - his mouth moving slowly against your lips as he presses his body flush to yours. You open your mouth against his a little, let your tongue trail over his bottom lip, hands reaching up to grip onto his t-shirt as his tongue meets yours.

You think you could stay like that forever, tasting him, but he pulls away, hands gripping your hips through the material of your dress to turn you around. There’s a brief moment where he presses himself against you, letting you feel the hardening of his cock against your ass, but then he’s gone, dropped to his knees behind you, tearing your panties down your legs to pool at your ankles.

Joel brings his palms to the naked skin of your ass, squeezing before he pulls gently, spreading you open with a low whistle from his mouth.

“Don’t tell me you’re this wet from teasing me, sugar.” He says, leaning forward to press his mouth to the top of your spine.

You’re about to respond when you feel one of his hands drop and then brush against the slick folds of your cunt, all you can do is watch yourself in the mirror as you tip your head forward and wait for what’s coming.

You feel him run his fingers back down before one of them dips lower, dangerously close to your fluttering hole that’s begging to be filled - and he knows it.

“She’s desperate, huh?” He coos behind you, “Practically beggin’ for someone to fill her up, ain’t she?”

“Please, Joel?” You breathe out, looking at yourself in the mirror, “I need it.”

“What do you need?” He asks with a tender squeeze of his other palm to your ass, “Huh? You tell me sugar and I’ll give it to you.”

“Your m-mouth,” You stutter out, “Or your f-fingers, anything Joel, please.”

“Like this?” He asks, and you’re about to ask what he means when you feel the warmth of his tongue lapping at you.

He’s tasting you, lapping at your core where you’re seeping slick just for him, his fingers trailing up, finding that bud of nerves, gently circling as he drinks from you.

“Ohhhhhh,” You sigh out in relief, taking yourself in when you look at your reflection, hair a little mused, skin slick with sweat already, “Just like that.”

You can feel his tongue pressing inside a little as his finger finds a rhythm of short gentle swipes across your clit - he’s got your knees wobbling already, making you flatten your palms on the marble sink to keep yourself upright.

“You gotta be quiet, okay?” He says, pulling his mouth off you to speak, dragging his fingers from your clit, “You make too much noise, I’ll have to stop.”

You hum in agreement, waiting to see what his next move is, which is to sink of of his thick fingers right inside your cunt and to lean forward underneath you enough so his tongue is moving against your clit. You have to bite down on your bottom lip to stop yourself from crying out - if there’s one thing college boys don’t do, it’s this.

You’re not sure how long he stays down there, lapping at your clit and slowly moving that finger inside you, but you know you’d have stayed there all night if you could, teetering just on the edge until he felt like finishing you off.

There’s a whine that leaves your mouth when his lips leave you - the finger that was inside you also gone, but he swaps them again - soaked fingers rubbing at your clit whilst he literally sucks the wet from your cunt, like a man who has gone without water for months. The hand that he’s hand pressed to your ass cheek is gone too - you can hear him fumbling with his belt and the movement of material somewhere along the line too, then, he’s groaning into your cunt.

You turn your head a little, but you can’t see him well enough to confirm what you think he’s doing - lapping at your cunt and circling your clit whilst he’s fisting his own cock.

“Are y-you-” You choke out, trying to keep your moans quiet as you feel the coil tightening in your tummy, “Are you touching yourself?”

Joel’s fingers continues its movement across your clit but his mouth leaves you, “Course I am,” He confesses, “Couldn’t help myself, sugar.”

“Just-” You trail off, a small, quiet moan slipping through the cracks of your resolve, “Put it inside me Joel.”

“Not yet,” He says, “Gotta make you cum first.”

“M’close,” You breathe out, pushing your hips back a little to get him to go back to what he was doing before, “Please Joel, I wanna cum.”

“Go on then, baby,” He coos, tongue back to licking at your wet hole, “You can let go.”

You feel your cunt pull tight and your knees buckle and your teeth bite down onto your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood as his fingers expertly push you over the edge. You can feel your walls clenching around nothing, begging for him to slip himself inside you so you have something to clench around as the hot furl of pleasure drifts like electric across your skin.

“Good girl,” You can hear him murmuring behind you, “So good bein’ so quiet like that.”

You’ve barely got time to recover before he’s standing up and pressing into you from behind, his lips wet and hot across the skin of your shoulder, a trail of wet being left from the drag of his beard where your slick has gathered.

“I don’t have anything on me,” He breathes into your ear, teeth nipping at your earlobe, “You got anything?”

You shake your head, “I’m clean though, I promise,” You speak softly, feeling him press his cock through your folds, “And I’m on the pill.”

He’s dragging his cock back through your folds, letting the head of it nudge slightly at your entrance, “You let anyone else fuck you bare before?” His hot breath asks into your ear.

“N-no,” You confess, “Only you.”

You can feel him press himself forward a little bit, feeding the tip of his cock into your cunt. There’s no doubt he’s big, bigger than you’re used to, but there’s no ache, not even when he pressed his hips further forward until you can feel his skin against yours and he’s buried fully inside you.

“Jesus,” He chokes out, “Fuckin’ Christ you feel good.”

Joel brings a hand up to rest against your throat, but it’s only to guide your eyeline to the mirror in front of you. He’s crowding behind you, hot and heavy against your back as he slowly starts to move, dragging his cock from your cunt and back in, chuckling against the skin of your cheek when you smile and giggle as the tip of him nudges at the very depths of you.

“You look good like this.” He whispers.

“We look good like this.” You counter, struggling to breathe a little as he picks the pace up, hips hitting into the meat of your ass on every thrust.

“We do,” He smiles, dragging himself off you a little to rest his hand on the back of your neck instead, “You like watching yourself get fucked, baby?”

You can’t speak anymore, the angle of his cock brushing against something inside of you which has you struggling to keep yourself quiet, so you just nod your head and let him press you further down into the counter, holding you still with his firm hand on your neck as he really starts to fuck you now.

You’re glad you can hear the music from the garden from here - means your dad has it turned up loud enough that no-one would be able to hear the squelch of your pussy on every thrust or the sound of your skin slapping together as Joel speeds up. It feels too good, you feel too full and you can feel that tightening coil again, feel the clenching of your cunt around his cock.

Looking into the mirror, you can see he’s in a similar state to you, his eyes angled down to watch his cock disappear into the heat of your cunt each time, sweat gathering along his brow. He sounds good too - small grunts on every thrust and a suck of breath whenever you constrict around him.

“One more, baby,” He urges, “Want to feel you cum on my cock, okay?”

He shifts his position a little so he’s fucking up into you - head of his cock pounding against that spot inside you that only you’d been able to find until now. It makes your legs shake and you have to bite down on your fist when he makes you cum again to stop yourself from crying out - tears springing at the corner of your eyes, threatening to spill as he talks you through it, tells you how pretty you look and how good you’re being for him.

“M’gonna cum baby,” He warns from behind you, “Where d’ya want it?”

You have no sense in your head anymore, he’s fucked it from you thoroughly, so you say the first thing that comes to mind - beg him to cum inside you, to fill you up. It’s safe, of course it would be, but you’re glad that somewhere in the haze of it all, he’s got more sense than you, pulling himself out of your cunt at just the last second, resting it against your ass as he spills across the skin of your lower back with a growl of your name on his mouth.

There’s silence as the two of you suck in breath to your lungs, letting your senses come back to you. Joel is quiet as he steps back and pulls his jeans back up to dress himself. He uses some tissue to clean you up, inspecting the hem of your dress for any stains he might have left before he’s dragging your panties back up your legs.

You have a try and fixing your hair, wetting your fingers from the sink to try and tame the flyaways, wondering if he’s going to walk away and leave you, but he doesn’t, he just stands behind you and waits for you to finish.

“I hope that was okay?” He offers sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck when you’re done.

“I asked for it,” You smile at him, “It was fine Joel.”

“Only fine?” He asks with a raised eyebrow.

You chuckle and slap him playfully on his arm, “Best I've ever had,” You offer, “Happy now?”

“Ecstatic,” He chuckles, moving to unlock the bathroom door before he turns back to you, “We don’t tell anyone about this, okay?”

You make a sign of a cross above your heart, “Not a soul.”

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abbyscherry · 1 month

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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀❀ — CAFÉS & CROSSWORDS

🇵🇸 daily click | palestine masterpost | important tlou post

loser abby chokes on air, almost drops her pencil, and crossword book on the floor when she notices you walking into the small café that she’s always visiting, for the first time. a bright smile on your face that has her cheeks flushing crimson red under the dim lighting of the area she was sitting in, just because of how bright your smile was. her palms suddenly sweaty when you’re letting out a laugh. a laugh she wants to constantly hear.

the turtle neck sweater suddenly feels too tight around her neck, her blush deepening when you’re turning around, still laughing with your friends, and your eyes slowly trail around until they’re landing on her. smiling softly when you spot her scrambling for her pen, looking away just as quick when she’s realising you had just caught her staring shamelessly.

abby was quickly trying to act oblivious to your staring. if she could stare at you and blush whenever you find her looking, why can’t you stare and smirk when she catches you watching? but it was slightly harder for her because she could feel your eyes burning into the side of her face. almost like you were trying to knock her glasses off just by looking at her.

she had barely even realized you’d grabbed your drink, and made your way over to the selection of books on the shelf when abby turned around, without seeming too shy this time or hiding it better, to look for you. only pouting as a result when she couldn’t find you. had you left? why was she already wanting to fawn over you from a distance and never actually talk to you? was she scared? maybe. would she ever say anything to you unless you did? never.

it was cute. cute watching her look for you and she barely even knew your name.

simply unaware you were standing behind her, finding the whole interaction more adorable with a smile on your face when she’s burying her face back into her book, or whatever it was that she was reading or doing.

taking a few steps forward, you couldn’t help but wonder what she was doing. your interest peaking higher at the pretty blonde who suddenly gained your attention as you heard before you could see the pencil in her hand, tapping on the wooden table and a angry scoffed came from her.

your smile brightened a few seconds later at the simple realisation she liked to do puzzles, and was clearly seconds away from giving up.

“introgression” you finally spoke up after watching her struggle for an extra few minutes on writing and erasing the incorrect answer.

the hairs on the back of her neck stood up, turning around on her chair quickly and regrettably knocking her knee on the table in the process when she found you, standing there with your head cocked to the side and chuckling. with a wince, she replied with a stammered, “what?” looking anywhere but at you.

“the answer to your crossword question. what is a 13-letter word meaning entrance? it’s introgression”

“oh”

“m’sorry, you’ve just been staring at it for a while” you chuckled, smiling down at her.

“it kinda slipped my mind i guess, but thank you”

“you’re welcome” you giggled, fumbling with your bracelet. “do you do crosswords a lot?”

“uhm, sometimes? keeps my brain focused” abby nodded, nervously tucking a strand of loose hair behind her glasses, and pushing her glasses higher up on her nose. “s’tupid, i know”

“no, no. s’not stupid, it’s cute” you reassured her quickly, smirking at her sudden flushed cheeks. “i can help you finish it, if you’d like? no pressure, i just like crosswords too”

“you uh, want to—”

“yes pretty girl, i want to crossword with you”

“aren’t you busy?”

“never too busy to talk to someone as handsome as you. oh and the crosswords too, obviously, i guess”

abby couldn't stop blushing at your words while you placed your hot drink on the table, sitting down on the chair opposite her. “you’re definitely here for the puzzle” she giggled.

“and something else, but let’s finish this before we get to the details about our date, yeah?”

#loser!abby #abby anderson #abby anderson x you #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson drabble #abby anderson fluff #abby the last of us #abby anderson tlou2 #abby tlou

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reiderwriter · 9 months

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♦️There Are No Words Left to Speak ♦️

Chapter 5 of That's What You Get

Prev Chap || Next Chap

Pairing: Spencer Reid X Fem Reader

Summary: In a panic, you spill your guts to Penelope and receive some much needed advice before your "date" with Reid.

Warnings: None!!

A/N: This one is 4k words long because I absolutely could not help myself 😭 I've has a lot of messages and asks about this series lately, and it's been really encouraging to see! If you like this chapter, please comment or reblog and let me know or come chat with me in my inbox! Happy Reading!!

You can find my masterlist here and the series masterlist here.

"Penelope, I fucked up and I need your advice," you screamed into the room as soon as the door slammed open, startling the other woman as she threw her phone up in surprise.

"Jesus, Y/N, you're lucky I didn't reach for the all too full can of pepper spray I store in here, oh my god."

"I'm sorry, Pen, I'm just, I'm kinda freaking out, and I need your help."

"Are we going to need wine, or are we going to need ice cream and a chick flick? What kind of problem are we talking here?" she asked from her place at the desk.

"I married Spencer in Vegas." You said and then clamped your hand over your mouth as you finally let the pressure of the weekends mess seep out of you now that you'd shared your secret.

"Oh my god, both, we'll do both. We need both, let's go, let's go now."

–X–

Penelope drove the two of you home, immediately moving into a mothering role as soon as the words left your mouth, and she could see your impending implosion. You were grateful that she didn’t ask you any further questions as you made your way back to her apartment, just turning on the radio to a channel playing 90s pop hits and simply letting you calm down through the fun music.

When you finally got through her door, she let you get comfortable and then immediately came back with all the things she promised.

“Okay, I know you’re more a rose girl, but all I have is this really nice white that Derek got me for my last birthday and half a bottle of tequila, and I think it’s better for the both of us if we don’t open the tequila. Also, I have chocolate, cookie dough ice cream, and tissues, and When Harry Met Sally on DVD, I'm ready to be plugged in and played as soon as you say the word.”

“Penelope, we do not tell you how brilliant you are as often as we should.”

“While that is true, I’m trying my best not to immediately cave and ask you to spill, so can we please sing my praises after you explain what you mean by saying you married Spencer.”

“God, Penelope, I don’t know what happened,” you let your head hang in your hands and she immediately moved to sit closer to you, rubbing a hand over your back and getting the tissues ready.

“We went out drinking, and my mom got in my head earlier in that call I took, and I don’t remember anything and then I woke up and we were in bed together and-” you rambled out, lifting your head up as you tried to explain, but she cut you off quickly there.

“You were in bed together? Did you… you know, bump uglies with Spencer? Do the old in n’ out? Sorry, I’m making this worse, I’ll shut up now,” she said, but you laughed at her enthusiasm, and you felt more of the weekend’s tension leave your body. You knew that you had made the right decision coming to Penelope with this. She always knew how to make you feel better.

“I don’t know, but it looks like it. TMI but-”

“Hold on, I don’t think I want to know what the Good Doctor is like in bed.” She visibly shuddered, and you let out another shaky laugh.

“Well considering I remember none of it, you’d be hard pressed to get those details from me. I did wake up handcuffed to the bed, though.”

“Shut the front door, no you did not!” Penelope’s jaw dropped. “Oh god, I’m almost morbidly curious, but I don’t want to open that can of worms. Sorry, please continue.”

You took a swig of the wine she poured you and relaxed a bit further into her couch, pulling your legs up under you to find a more comfortable position as you told the rest of your story to Penelope, gaining more confidence with each of her reactions to what you told her.

“So, now we just need to track down our two witnesses and get the marriage quietly annulled, and we can forget it ever happened.” You could hear the frown in your voice before you realised you were making that kind of expression, and from Penelope’s reaction, you could see that she’d noticed too.

“Oh.. oh, I know that look. You don’t want the annulment, do you?”

“Yes! I mean, no! Look, I really don’t know how to answer that right now, it’s just…” you trailed off, and Penelope silently filled your wine glass again, not saying anything and letting you come around at your own pace.

“Earlier today, after we told Rossi, and before I came running to you, he… he kissed my forehead, and he called me Mrs. Reid, and I really liked it. And I didn’t think about it before, but Reid is nice, and he is good, and he is obviously really smart, and, god he’d be a great dad, and he took care of me yesterday and today… Penelope, I think I have a crush on my husband.” You gasped out, feeling the weight of your revelation as it hit you straight in the gut.

“But we talked about it and we’re getting an annulment and now it’s like I fucked up before I really got the chance to let it go anywhere, and what if it’s a mistake? What if I made the world’s greatest fuck up and married a great man in Vegas and then threw it all away a week later?” you raked your hand through your hair quickly, trying to ignore the tears forming quickly in your eyes.

“Oh my god, sweetie, it’s going to be okay… You’re going to have to trust me when I tell you that it’s going to be okay…” she patted you on the back and you let the tears fall down a bit, quickly dabbing them away with the now balled up tissue in your hand.

“I don’t know if I can, Pen…” you tried to smile up at her, but you could feel your lips wobbling and you let your head hang again before you could let out a choked sob.

“No, nonononoonono, listen to me… Okay, promise you won’t hate me after I say this?” She said, squishing your cheeks between her hands as she made you look up into her eyes.

“I pwomise,” you sniffed out, voice muffled by her strong grip. She let you go then, content that she had your attention.

“I know for a fact that the boy is as infatuated with you as you are with him because… because I saw you two.” She stopped there to watch your reaction, but you froze, so she continued.

“You… you called me from wherever you guys were out in Vegas, mumbled some words over the phone and then sent me a picture of a brochure with an address on it, and then when I turned up it was a wedding chapel and you were getting married.” She winced out those last words, and you gasped at the confession.

“You were one of the witnesses! Penelope!” You pointed an accusatory finger at her, but it was half-hearted. You knew that you were stubborn enough while sober. You certainly wouldn’t have been persuaded out of something you obviously wanted while blackout drunk.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry, but you guys were just too cute! He was giving you all these small kisses on your forehead and on your cheeks, and you looked like innocent kids giddy and high on love, and I didn’t want to bring you back down to earth. You looked so happy, and I do not make it a habit to get in the way of my friends’ happiness.”

“Penelope, why didn’t you say anything?” You groan out, sounding a bit like a petulant teenager who has just discovered her mom threw out a shirt she hadn’t worn in years.

“I wanted to, but I was told not to…” she winced away. “And before you ask, I won’t tell you who else was there! Just know it was someone else who also loves both of you and would’ve pulled you two out of there. No questions asked if they thought you were making a stupid decision!”

You let the revelations sink in, one by one. Penelope was there. Reid couldn’t keep his lips off of you. The other witness thought you two were good together. It almost didn’t surprise you when you started giggling, finding humour in the situation at least.

“Oh my god, Penelope, I got married in Vegas to my coworker. And I think I’m in love with him now.” You were in a fit of giggles now, and Penelope hesitantly joined in at first.

“Yeah, I suppose it is funny when you put it that way.”

“God, what am I going to do? How am I going to face him from now on?” You pulled yourself together again and faced Penelope again, hoping that she would have actual answers for your very rhetorical question.

“Well, at least we have a couple of days off now. You don’t have to see him again until we go to work.”

“No, we have a date tomorrow,” you said matter-of-factly. “Appointment, really, he’s reading some books on alcohol induced memory loss tonight, and then I’m going over to his place to see if any of it can help us fill in the blanks.”

“Oh god, you’re going to talk books with Reid. That’s practically as romantic as it gets for him. No wonder he wifed you up.” You playfully kicked her leg, and she laughed again. “Okay, so no avoidance, okay. Maybe you could put the moves on him? Try to recreate that scene with the handcuffs. Who knows what might happen.” She wiggled her eyebrows at you then, and you did your best not to once again be overcome by a fit of giggles.

“Okay, enough of my romantic problems. I was promised When Harry Met Sally and that ice cream has probably melted, so let’s get to it.”

–X–

You braced yourself at the apartment door as you psyched yourself up to knock. As promised, you’d been greeted in the morning by a text from Spencer with his address and a proposed time to meet. He’d suggested 5pm, and you’d agreed, but here you were 20 minutes early, probably looking overdressed and over eager to spend time with your coworker/ husband/ soon to be former husband, maybe.

You’d left Penelope’s apartment that morning, having had an impromptu sleepover, happy that you’d at least confirmed your own feelings. You’d taken a taxi to collect your car, then spent the rest of your time at home overthinking and overpreparing.

You’d put on a dress and some make-up, and you were almost regretting the decision now you were on his doorstep, wondering what he’d think. You worked one of the toughest jobs in the world together, and you knew that he’d seen you completely black and blue after going blow for blow with unsubs in the past. Would he think this sudden effort was weird? You tried not to pace, knowing that your footsteps in the hall would alert him to your presence, but you couldn’t bring yourself to knock just yet.

You checked your phone again. 4:45. You couldn’t spend another fifteen minutes out here overthinking, so you finally just pushed ahead and knocked. Almost as if he had been waiting on the other side of the door this entire time, Reid answered immediately, not even letting you get a third rap in before he was there standing in front of you.

“Hi,” you said, standing there awkwardly with your hand still up, ready to knock again.

“Hey,” he replied, smiling at you.

You felt his eyes trail down your body, taking in your appearance. The dress you’d chosen wasn’t particularly special, just a mid-length tiered dress with bow straps. The weather was getting chillier so you’d layered it over a plain turtleneck, enjoying the added bonus of not having to conceal down your neck to mask the love bites he’d lavished upon you only a few nights prior.

You looked at him as well, and you were pleasantly surprised by his casual wear. He was more dressed down than he was in the office, but not by much. He was still wearing slacks, and a button down shirt as well, but he’d thrown a beaten up CalTech sweater over the top of them, and he looked so cosy you wanted to bury your head in his chest. He was wearing his glasses, and you were so thankful for that, as you forgot how well they suited him, fitting him perfectly.

“You’re early.” He said, finally breaking the silence between the two of you, drawing you out of the trance he’d kept you in while you took in the sight of him.

“Yeah, I guess I just overestimated how long it was going to take to get here. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s great, totally fine. Come in.” He moved his body to the side slightly so you could enter the door, but kept his outer arm pressed against the door so you had to duck under it, brushing past him as you went. The small contact made your entire body buzz, your heartrate picking up as you willed yourself to act natural.

“The food should be here any minute.” He smiled as he followed you back into his apartment. “I wanted it to arrive before you got here so I could surprise you.” You turned around to face him, and you could hear the bashfulness in his voice as he made the admission.

“Sorry for ruining the surprise,” you smiled up at him. “What did you order?”

“I remembered you mentioned that Korean streetfood place a while back that does those spicy rice cakes and kimbap rolls, so I got us some of that. Is that okay?”

“Sounds perfect.” You were touched that he even remembered the conversation when you yourself couldn’t even think of when it might have happened. He turned and walked further into the apartment, and you followed him this time, finally looking around and taking it all in.

The walls were obviously lined with bookshelves, and there were books laying around in piles everywhere. The walls were painted a dark colour, which made the space feel calming, almost more intimate, and sunlight was streaming in from the open window on the back wall.

“Sorry, it’s not much. Take a seat wherever, and I’ll grab those books I was talking about.”

You took a seat on the couch and watched him trail around the room, picking up books from several shelves and stacks.

“Okay, this is all of them. So the main takeaway is that it usually takes two weeks to fully recover memories from alcohol induced blackouts.” He explained, bringing you a stack at least eight books high.

“Spencer, did you read all of these last night?” You asked.

“Yeah, I said I would, I thought it would help.”

“Spencer,” you took his hand into yours as he set the books on the floor and flopped down to the couch beside you. “I really appreciate you putting in all this effort to help us, but you could’ve just come home and relaxed, you know. Our case was long and tough, and now all of this, you deserve a break.” You stroked your thumb over the back of his hand, trying to make the gesture calm and reassuring.

“I know, I wanted to do this. I want to remember what happened between us,” he whispered the words softly, not needing to fill the space with much sound as you’d crept closer and closer together since he’d returned.

“So, uh, two weeks then, is that it, we just have to wait for the memories to return?” you asked quietly, letting go of the small moment you’d shared to get back to the task at hand.

“It seemed so, but there are some other more general tips we could implement that could help us piece together what happened. We might at least be able to figure out who our witnesses were.”

You felt almost guilty then, but you kept your mouth shut. You’d decided the night before that you wouldn’t tell Reid about Penelope. At least not yet. You wanted the time first to see if he could possibly feel the same way about you before you worked up the courage to let him in on what you had learnt.

“Yeah, I’m open to try anything. Within reason, that is.”

“Great! I was thinking at first that maybe we could do a cognitive interview, but as we only have each other to work with, I thought that might make some of our answers more biased and not garner effective results. But we could still try to jog our memories by working out some of the same emotions, doing some things we could have done that night, and seeing if any of it rings a bell?”

“Some of the things we did that night?”

“Yeah,” he repled.

“Like… like make out or get handcuffed to a bed?” You enjoyed watching the flush creep up his neck, and his eyes go wide as he struggled to backtrack on that one.

“No, no! I mean, unless you want to, or you think it would help?” It was your turn to be left speechless, your mouth suddenly not complying with your brain as you begged yourself to respond somehow. All you could muster was a glance down at his lips that lingered a bit too long, your body slowly creeping forward.

He noticed and moved closer towards you as well, letting his hand grasp your waist as you got caught in his atmosphere.

“It’s worth a try, right? To regain our memories.” He supplied you with the words, letting you stay silent as your lips grew closer and closer together, seconds away from taking your breath away forever.

A loud rap at the door and a shout of “delivery” had the two of you suddenly bouncing away from each other, Reid scrambling to the door to collect the food, while you stood up awkwardly and tried to pretend there was something really interesting on his bookshelf that had caught your attention all of a sudden.

For the Nth time in so many days, you found yourself trying to convince your heart to beat a little quieter, and you managed to get yourself under control as he returned with the food.

“I’m sorry, I lost track of time…” he trailed off as you nodded, joining him back at the couch as he began unpacking the food.

“It’s totally fine, we should eat anyways, trust me when I say this stuff doesn’t taste even half as good cold.” You smiled at him, but it didn’t go quite to your eyes. You really wanted to kiss him, and you were really doing your best to control your disappointment, not wanting to show off how desperate for him you were.

“Well, you’re in luck, because you now get to witness one of my only flaws,” he said, fishing out two sets of chopsticks from the delivery bag. “I am absolutely terrible with chopsticks.”

You giggled at him and grabbed the pair he offered you, letting out a dramatic fake gasp. “And you only tell me after we get married? That’s it, I want a divorce,” you laugh, and the two of you settle down into a comfortable silence as you begin your meal.

–X–

Two hours later, and you’re still no closer to locking lips with the man than you were earlier. You’d had a nice time talking with him over the food, both of you sitting like kids on the floor as you ate over his coffee table. He’d told you about a Korean film festival he’d attended a few years back, one of many international film festivals he’d been to, and you sat and listened, in awe of the way his eyes lit up when he talked about something that excited him. You hoped that one day, he’d talk about you in that same way.

You helped him clean up and settled back onto the couch, where he’d mentioned having a copy of one of the films that had since been subtitled, and you ended up in another movie marathon.

The movie was good, but his presence next to you was even better. He’d stretched out his arms on the couch behind you, letting you snuggle up into his side as you pulled your legs up and under you, screwing yourself up in a comfortable little ball, burrowing into him for warmth. He was a fire beside you, and you wished you were bold enough to push further into him, to drag your hands across his skin and feel even more of him, continuing the exploration from earlier. But you weren’t, and, honestly, you were tired, so you let yourself sit peacefully beside him, touching but not much, as you were lulled to sleep by the sounds of the TV.

It was pitch black outside when you finally cracked your eyes open again, but he was still there next to you on the couch. The movie had been turned off, and so had the TV, and there was a blanket now wrapped around your legs, so he had obviously moved, but he had also come back to you. You shifted your head up to look at him and smiled. He’d picked up another book from who knows what shelf and was reading slowly so as not to wake you with the movements of his hand as he traced down the page. Your head had moved from his chest to his lap, and he held the book off to the side in one hand, his other resting protectively over your waist. He was so engrossed by his book that he hadn’t even realised you’d moved and that you were awake until you spoke to him.

“Spencer? What time is it?” you asked, your voice thick with sleep.

“It’s 11:30. You fell asleep during the movie and you looked like you could use the sleep.”

“Wow, what a way to tell a girl she doesn’t look so good,” you laughed at him as he pouted down at you.

“I didn’t mean that. Y/N, you look beautiful today. You look beautiful everyday.”

You lifted yourself up from his lap, one hand braced on either side of his legs on the couch as you bought yourself eye-to-eye with him, your chests close enough to touch if you took a big breath in. Instead, yours were shallow as you looked up at him through heavy eyes.

“Thank you, Spencer.” You whispered, silently begging him to close the space between the two of you. But he didn’t, instead, clearing his throat and putting his book down, breaking your eye contact.

“I should be getting home now. It’s pretty late.” You said, standing up from the couch. He followed you up and around as you started collecting your things and organising the space you’d occupied.

“Y/N it’s late, and you’re tired. I can’t let you drive home like that. An estimated 30% of road accidents occur due to sleep deficiency, you know.”

“It’s fine, I don’t want to get a taxi and just leave my car here and then have to come back in the morning. I’ll be fine driving,” you said, but he softly took the keys out of your hands as you grabbed them from your bag.

“Stay here tonight.” He said, less of a suggestion than an already established fact. You looked up at him and knew there was no changing his mind, but he continued anyway.

“I have a spare toothbrush and some old clothes you can probably use as pajamas, and it’s not like we haven’t shared a bed before. Maybe…maybe waking up next to each other again will help jog our memories, too. We only have until the end of the week, right?”

He looked at you expectantly, and you let out a little sigh and nodded your head, letting him guide you away to the bedroom and back into sleeping in his arms.

--×--

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fleetingvow · 1 year

Text

‘ DEAD WEIGHT .

Anthony Lockwood x Female Reader

SYNOPSIS. the reader’s skills got rusty and with anthony breathing down her neck all the time, well, things that were better off unsaid were spoken. that’s when four became three. ( 6.87k words )

CATEGORY. angst. slight enemies to lovers ( not completely lovers because i write and stick to slowburn. )

WARNINGS. anthony being a total dickwad. usage of profanities. off the timeline. netflix series based. usage of “y/n”. lots of parallelism in statement structures.

NOTE. characters are aged up. written in third person’s omniscient point of view. room add-up for plot purposes.

REMINDER. this fic is written and copyrighted by ©fleetingvow on tumblr. do not rewrite or repost on any other platforms without my permission.

TAGS. @superpositvecloudshipper

𝗛𝗘𝗥 𝗦𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧 𝗪𝗔𝗦 shrouded in a misty veil. The room had turned bleary as soon as she stepped out of the bathroom, wrapped in her bathrobes. She closed her eyes and opened them again in a desperate attempt to regain her composure. When her feet led her to her room, she felt the pull stronger than what she had been feeling when she was washing up. Y/N gripped the doorknob and opened the door with a groan, and then there was a voice. A mere whisper to her ears.

“Help me!” She turned around, only to see no one but the pen she picked up from a previous home many months ago, mistaking it for the one Lockwood handed. It was surely just her imagination. They already contained the source from the previous mission, destroyed it even. George had done his research and there was only one soul that haunted the home. She was sure no other soul was left behind. Besides, Y/N made sure to set up a schedule to return the object to its rightful place.

However, just now . . . she felt as though it wasn’t just her presence that graced the room. Her eyes scanned her surroundings. There was no one, nothing. Why was it getting harder to breathe? The ringing, they were back again, but this time, it was higher in pitch and volume. She put both palms on her ears in order to block the noises, but it was too loud!

That was until she heard the knock on the door followed by the voice of someone more human, natural in his voice, “Prepare quickly, Y/N. We’re moving swiftly tonight, we have two missions!”

She didn’t respond. It didn’t seem like it mattered when his footsteps were already fading. The girl slowly ran her fingers through her damp hair, taking a deep breath to calm herself down. It was just her imagination — that ringing. But there was a protruding thought that maybe, there was something wrong with her, and she couldn’t place whatever it was.

Although, there was something far more important than that. She needed to be present for this other case. Y/N had been lacking for the past few days, and she was under the pressure of redeeming herself to prove something to Lockwood.

And she was going to prove it well.

THAT HURT! God, it hurt so much! There was no other thing in her mind than how much it felt, causing electric shock through her body, wanting to rip her ears out to just. get it. to stop!

“Fuck!” Y/N exclaimed, losing her grip on her rapier therefore also failing to protect Lucy from the ghost that hovered before them. The clang of the blade on the floor only triggered a louder sound in her ears, putting her mind into shambles as she scrambled to the floor to regain possession of her weapon.

Before she could, however, Lockwood had already slain the ghost himself, buying them more time to pull themselves together. “Lucy!” Lockwood hurriedly rushed to her aid as she panted, refusing the help Anthony was offering.

“Y/N?” Lucy called, her voice combined with worry over the girl’s well-being. “Are you okay?”

It didn’t look like she was, but it was certainly better than before. The ringing had stopped, and what was left was an overcoming fear of when it will occur again. Her forehead was covere din beads of sweat, her mouth gasping for air, and clammy hands clutching the handle of her sword.

She had, in fact, once again failed to redeem herself. And what had she done? Make a complete fool out of herself to Lockwood who only looked at her with disappointment painted oh-so-vibrantly all over his face.

“I covered the source with the net!” George excitedly announced as he made his way into the bedroom where everyone was. It had been a rare occurence before that Lockwood allowed George to do this type of work, but since he’s proven himself to be the hero in most scenarios, he trusted him.

Y/N glanced up at George. She wasn’t mad at him. As a matter of fact, she was grateful for him, not just for containing the source, but also putting an end to the tension in the room. “Are you guys okay?” he proceeded to question.

She stood up from the floor and lowered her head before mumbling, “We’re fine.” She then walked past him swiftly and out of the room with shame as her feet led her to the gardens of the home.

“She’s definitely not fine,” George breathed out. Both of his companions looked at him in a questioning manner. He shrugged, “She’s been acting odd for the past few weeks - months, even. Am I the only one who noticed?”

“You’re always the one to notice something, George.” Lucy commented with a smile. Anthony did not appreciate the conversation, no matter how little. He’d much rather they didn’t talk at all.

“Stay here. I’ll talk to her,” Lockwood ordered. George and Lucy nodded followed by exchanged glances with subtle wide eyes. They knew it was not a good idea Lockwood would follow her, but what could be done? They just hoped he wouldn’t make an arrogant fool of himself again.

“WHAT WAS that?” Y/N’s ears suddenly perked up from the voice. She plastered a sarcastic smile as she replied, “You found me, then.”

“This is no time for foolish remarks, Y/N. What was that all about? You had it. Lucy could have been hurt! You could have gotten hurt! Do you realise what you’ve just done?” Anthony exclaimed. The leaves crunched from under his feet as he marched his way forward to the girl.

“You’re saying that as if I’ve done it intentionally. Is that what you think I do? Sabotage the team?”

“I’m not saying that,” he frustratedly protested, facepalming before placing his hands on his hips, his coat pushed back. “What I’m saying is for you to pull yourself together. Where are you, really? This, this state of yours is going to get us all killed!”

“Lucy’s fine! I’m fine!”

“You both wouldn’t be if I hadn’t stepped in and you had made an absolute mockery of yourself in the situation! You were flailing! Can I even trust you with simple tasks?”

“You call fighting off a type two, simple?” She fired back, trying her best to hold back her anger when she knew she had fucked up.

“We’ve done it before! We’ve dealt with harder cases. What’s going so wrong now?”

“Of course you’d say that! Everything’s easy for you, right?” Lockwood was taken aback by her words, yet instead of processing her words and taking it as a reminder of his past conflicts, he took offence of it, triggering his sense of authority and anger. “If it’s so easy, why don’t you just work with yourself? If you’re so obsessed with perfection, why don’t you eliminate mistakes and put down the team? Because that’s you, right? You’re the one who’s always so bloody perfect at everything!”

His eyebrow twitched as he blinked at her, his face getting softer, yet still inconsiderate as he lifted his head to the side and clenched his jaw. Anthony momentarily fixed his gaze on the floor before placing it back to her. His voice had become monotonous. Cold.

“If you hate me so much, why don’t you just leave the team?”

There was a moment of silence. If the rapier didn’t pierce her heart before, it definitely has now, but it wasn’t the steel sword that did its damage. It was those exact words he had uttered so confidently in her face. There was no hint of regret there when she searched his eyes. There was absolute nothingness.

Suddenly, the coldness of the wind got into her eyes — did it really? Or was she just finding an excuse to mask the reason behind her slightly blurry eyes. Y/N blinked and swallowed her spit in order to remove the lump in her throat. It was useless. She nodded slightly, her face stiff as she tried to muster up her thoughts to create a better expression.

But there was no better reaction.

“What?” she asked for confirmation. Lockwood slightly shifted in his position, standing upright. He looked at her eyes and down to her shoes slightly, taking the sight of the disappointed girl. He swallowed his spit, licking his lips.

“You heard me.”

“So, that’s it then?” she mumbled, trying her best to disguise the betrayal in her voice.

“That’s it.” Anthony replied in a stern tone, not leaving her eyes. “Don’t be so surprised now, Y/N. If it helps you feel any better, maybe you could still start somewhere — just not here.”

“You’re a fucking dickwad, do you know that?!” She yelled.

“I’m doing this for the team.”

“Like shit you are!” She exasperatedly gesticulated her hands in the open air and continued, “You think George and Lucy would fucking applaud you after they find out? I thought we were family! What now? I fuck up, and suddenly I’m gone for good?”

“You could just say n—”

“No, because that’s not it, isn’t it?” She bitterly interjected and combed her fingers through her hair irately. “You’ve hated me from the start! You ignore me every chance you get, but when you’re not, you berate me! You look at me as if I’m about to fail, and you undermine me every single time!”

“I don’t undermine you. I look at you, and I see transitions of how things start and how things end,” he started, chest heaving up and down from his bottled feelings of anguish and rage, not to her but to himself. “I don’t know what it is about you that makes me doubt whatever it is I doubt. You were good at what you do, but you’ve been lost for the past few months. We don’t have a hold of you now, and you’re not telling us anything. To be completely blunt and forward, Y/N: Whenever you’re present in a case, something goes wrong.”

Even to herself, she could admit that he had a point. Every mission that she had with her friends, everything ends up a little bit too complicated than it should. She did feel like she was the cause for the performance of the agency lately. That information itself made her heart sink at the bottom of the pit, pushing her to another depth as he spoke once again.

“You’re a dead weight.”

That statement felt a little hypnotic that it proceeded to ring in her head. Now that was it, why did she feel defeated now? She felt as if he just called her useless. Huh, maybe that’s what she was. Completely and utterly useless for the best agency London has ever seen. She was the dead weight in their group, the failure.

“I just haven’t been myself. I—” Then, there was a silver streak of water that cascaded down her face. She cleared her throat and looked away, wiping the tear with the back of her hand as she sniffled and blinked away the glinting waterfall threatening to spill. “I’m sorry.”

Anthony’s chest felt different with that statement. His eyes that showed no remorse softened at this current sight of her, but there was something at that moment that told him to resist it. He had to stand firm, and he knew to himself he’d do just about anything for the sake of the team, even if it had to be removing Y/N from it.

The thought of questioning whether this decision was right began to rebuke him.

“Y/N, I’m only doing this for the best of everyone’s well-being.”

“You already said that,” she replied and took a deep breath, avoiding eye contact with him. Then, she shrugged her shoulders and laughed to herself in bitter humour. She unsheathed the rapier from her side and took a few steps forward to the boy who gave her a puzzled look.

She took his hand and offered the handle of her blade, closing his palm with hers. Y/N forced a smile on her lips, looking up to meet his eyes. They were close.

Just. This. Close.

Y/N had seen his eyes numerous times before, but under whatever spell, she never got tired of it even despite the sharp daggers it threw at her. Her heart shattered once more, this soft gaze she’d sometimes thought was an illusion made the broken shards leap hopelessly that it left her dizzy for another minute or so.

The wind in the garden gently whispered.

Anthony felt this feeling before, but he dismissed it just like he’d always done. It was something that he believed to be unworthy of his attention. If he looked the other way, what of the path that he worked so hard for?

“Y/N, I—”

“I’ll be gone by morning. Don’t tell the others . . . for me please, would you, Lockwood?” She whispered. Goddamn it, she was going to go! Anthony couldn’t do anything. His body and soul were both locked in the position of looking at her, paralysed as he tried his best to catch his breath. His eyes quickly paid a glance to her lips before switching back to her eyes.

He hummed in response.

There was a palpable tension in such an open space. The girl decided to have had enough of it, leisurely stepped away without breaking eye contact, and walked off with his head turned to watch her figure fade away with the distance.

SHE SAID SHE’D be gone by morning. It was 3 AM, and he wasn’t sure what morning she was referring to, but surely she’d use more time for rest and packing her things. It wouldn’t be so early. He paced back and forth, almost creating a six feet deep grave of his own in front of her door, his hands secured in his pockets. His furrowed eyebrows almost reached each other to knit a whole line on his face, but he soon stopped with a sharp exhale.

Anthony realised how wrong he might have been. The fact that both Lucy and George don't know anything made him feel even more guilty knowing damn well they would have his head and ego once they learn of what he did. Not only that, he felt incessantly bad for being cruel with his choice of words without consideration to what Y/N’s explanation could offer. To be completely honest, he wasn’t even thinking straight! He had no clue where the idea of eliminating her from the team came from.

His mind hadn't been at peace nor was it sober in his library when they got back home. Y/N shut herself in her room after an awkward dinner in which they both pretended everything went well. Lucy and George, bless their poor naive innocent souls, seemed to buy it with Lucy feeling a little bit hesitant.

It was 3 AM, and he was at her door.

At her door.

His hand slightly lifted to knock her door, but it stopped mid-air. Lockwood sighed, pulling his hand back in his pocket with a shake of the head. He’d been horrible, and disturbing Y/N’s peace no matter how fleeting, would be more displeasing.

Anthony’s footsteps faded with Y/N listening intently behind the door, wiping her silent tears. He was outside her door for half an hour during her moment where she wrote her letters individually to the members of the team. She didn’t want to open the door, but her desire to speak to him drove her to a decision that if he knocked, she would let him in. If he asked that she returned, she would.

But alas, he didn’t do any of those, leaving her to conclude that his decision was final, and his words were deeply meant and intended. It was her fault, after all.

And maybe the agency would be better off without a dead weight.

WHEN MORNING CAME, Anthony was jolted awake when George shook him back to consciousness in the library lit with the sunshine pouring through the window. As soon as he fluttered his eyes open and saw the light with George’s frantic silhouette, it had been a clear indication that he was too late.

“Y/N’s gone!”

There was an unpleasant sensation in his stomach, bad butterflies taking control over his system. He quickly sat up and ignored the pounding headache he gained overnight. Anthony turned to George, “Since when?”

“I don’t know. Lucy called her for breakfast but she didn’t answer. She never didn’t answer! So we went up there to check, but all her things were gone.”

He got to his feet and went straight to Y/N’s provided room where all traces of her existence were never found, except for the envelopes clutched in Lucy’s trembling hands. Her face wasn’t warm and welcoming at all as she furiously questioned, “What did you do?!”

“She’s left the agency!” Lucy exclaimed.

“Why?” George asked in response.

“Ask Lockwood. Apparently, he’s the one who talked to her last night after the mission.”

“What are those?” Karim gestured towards the envelopes Lucy had. She raised the letters with their names engraved in jet black ink.

“See for yourself,” she answered and shoved each of the letters to the designated receivers. The girl then furiously marched out of the room, leaving behind both George and Anthony to themselves. Karim opened the correspondence and trailed his eyes along the letters scribbled on the tear stained paper, his face growing bitter word for word as he finished.

The boy turned to his companion, “You’re unbelievable.”

Lockwood wore the same frown he wore in front of her door a couple of hours ago. George left him in the room to self-reflect between the four walls of nothingness but the lingering memories of who used to occupy it.

He looked at the letter, opening it as he scanned the wirds carefully written yet stained with tears that dried on the ink that spread on the fibres of the paper.

“Anthony,

I didn’t tell them, if that’s what you’re worried about, but I’m not sure if my explanations will suffice. I know Lucy and George are smarter than you give them credit for. Whatever happens, I want you to continue the agency with them. They’re your only family left.

I loved the memories with you and the others and I will continue to treasure them until it’s my prized possession that you will have to seek one day. I hated you for a while, and maybe I hate you now, but there’s nothing but the truth that you make a great leader, and I hope your passion will lead them to the path they want, and their loyalty will not banish even after eternity.

For a while, Lockwood, your home had been my home. Our home, but after tonight, it seems as though you gave the key to the wrong person. I hope you will find a better one worthy of the team.

Do not look for me. I will find a good place to find myself and start again and recover. And once I recover, I swear to George and Lucy, I will write. Take care of them.

I’m sorry,

Y/N.”

He wanted to crumple that letter, but that’s all he had of her. Each passing second that he stared at the empty room made him feel guiltier and guiltier. The blood in his veins rushed as he turned crimson with rage. Anthony had never been one to lose composure of himself, especially when he was angry, but it was different this time.

He knew to himself that he blew it. He had fucked up and now he was not the only one that was paying. Because of his arrogance, the house lacked Y/N’s annoying laughter, her awkward morning small talks and idle chatter, the familiar creaks on the wooden stairs because of how loud her feet become when she’s excited for a new case.

Her seat remained empty, devoid of the girl's presence. Her favourite cup had been set before the chair without any mark or stain of the hues she usually wore on her lips. The smell of coffee George brewed earlier for her wafted in a room, serving as an object to rub it in their nose of the bitter tension she’d left behind in that very room.

Lockwood cleared his throat, “Our next mission, er.”

Lucy’s scoff caught his eye, “Give us a break, Lockwood.” She put her mug down, her eyes piercing through his, speaking, “When will you ever learn to not only care about yourself?”

“Lucy, not now.”

“Yes, now.” George intervened. “No one knows why Y/N left, except you. Her family wouldn’t want her back even if she writes that on her Christmas list. You know it to yourself too, that’s a dumb excuse.”

“She left the agency because she made her choice,” Anthony monotonously replied, and quickly regretted it as he sighed and spoke again in a much gentler, more emotion-filled voice, “It was the best for us all.”

“Did she make that choice, or did you? No wonder she left.” Lucy mumbled as she was not having any of it. She slammed her feet on the floor and stood up to leave the kitchen with George leisurely following behind.

Y/N TOOK IN THE rotten interior of the home. Everything was mouldy and abandoned. It was an odd thing, for sure. The house was supposed to be sold months ago! Why was it deprived of human presence? Something was not right, especially with that voice slowly creeping in her ears again.

She wasn’t alone in that place.

“Help me,” she heard. There was a guess there. A guess she’d been doubting for weeks but knew to be believed by her subconsciousness. The girl grabbed the pen from her pocket and sighed, closing her eyes to allow itself to commune with her.

“What do you want me to do?” She questioned.

It was a bad idea, but it was daylight. The power of this type of entity, whatever it is, should be weak by now. Y/N felt herself being pulled in a deep void, forcing all her energy to go down with the force. It was her mind that felt lightweight and then her body with static. All sounds from her surroundings started to become collectively like the sound of electric waves until it was an absolute nothingness.

Just then, an ornate box appeared among the fog, its gold embellishments covered in crimson hues, dripping on the now visible desk. The event happened so fast, and what was once a flurry of foggy mess was now a warm room lit with glinting candle lights from above the ceiling before it turned into a ghost of the olden times. The doors were being pounded from the other side, followed by voices who furiously shouted a name.The girl looked around to see a cadaver on the floor, severely tortured and bloodied. Then, she looked at herself, taking note of how her hands were covered in the same liquid as on the floor.

“What happened here?” she whispered to herself in a frantic tremble.

“Give us the box!”

She looked at the object now in her hands. Every inch of her appearance had changed into someone else, feeling their sense of determination to hide and clutch the treasure in her possession. She turned frantically to look for a way out, but just as she was about to run for it, the door burst open and there came three men, one with a pen in his hand.

“You’ve signed the agreement my father’s given you!” She didn’t know why or how, but it must have been the ghost that kept haunting her that said it.

“Will it matter any longer?”

Just as she screamed, the world had turned into a fading vision. Y/N woke up with a gasp, finding herself on the floor with the piles of stones and rubbles, debris from the structure of what once was a home of an aristocrat. There it was again, that ringing. The girl groaned from the consistent hearing disturbance.

She stood up, only to find herself in an entirely different room. Her eyes made a quick scan of the structure. That was when she found an unusual glint inside the crack on the floor. “So that’s why.”

The death glows would have been seen by Lockwood before, but he didn’t, only because the home had been renovated long before it got destroyed again. The floor had been covered by another layer of floor.

Then, a glint caught her eye, the moonshine had reflected its light where she saw the intricate box. Quickly, she crawled over to it and pulled it out of the crack with force. The box was the same as before, only old and rusty. The surface was covered in dust and old traces of blood.

The ringing stopped, replaced by a series of the hushed voices of a woman. Y/N flailed side by side, falling on her knees as she crawled to grab ahold of the intricate box covered in dust and other filthy muck. “What is this for? What should I do?”

That’s when she realised the sun had finally set and she was in deeper trouble than she was. A glowing light appeared behind the door frame as it continued to hide. Her breath hitched, grabbing ahold of the rapier she managed to steal from Anthony’s library.

“I will help you! You’ve tormented me enough,” she mumbled, holding the rapier up as a barricade between her and the ghost.

The ghost let out a deafening shriek as it frowned at her, hovering through the air before her eyes.

“I promise!” Y/N exclaimed. “Just let me help you!”

However, it was not easy making deals with a dead-undead visitor made up of ectoplasm and substantial despair and anger toward the living. The ghost charged forward, making her lucky enough to move out of the way. She yielded the sword, and the luck of the draw struck again when she managed to hit the visitor with her iron blade, buying her more time.

The girl opened the box, revealing a pile of papers and an old silver pocket watch eaten away by old age and exposure to oxygen and insects that created their own home within the chest. The cobwebs were occupied by several tiny eight-legged creatures causing her to cringe as she dropped the box and shook the spiders off.

Upon the contact of the crate with the floor, a glowing spot appeared.

She looked at the ghost of the woman that haunted her. It stopped mid-air for a while before continuing with her new entertainment of tormenting the girl more. Y/N’s eyes widened at a sudden realisation.

That was it!

For the first time in a long time, she finally felt like she wasn’t being an absolutely bloody idiot. “I have to destroy it, don’t I? For you to find your peace, is that it?”

That was when she frowned and muttered under her breath, “But that’s not your source.”

Then, her ego was kicked off the curb with her guts. A hand reached out from the glowing spot on the floor. “That’s someone else’s source!” She raised her rapier and quickly wielded it to hit the box, preventing the ghost from coming out of it.

The first visitor shrieked again and charged forward as Y/N fumbled on the floor, miserably looking for the pen. Her breathing was audibly fast, waving her sword desperately through the air to ward off the ghost that had been restless in chasing after her.

She scanned the cracks, there was nothing. Then, under the desk, nothing. That’s when she noticed the object she sought right next to an empty cobwebbed shelf on the floor next to a book.

Y/N removed her sword out of the way, darting towards the pen to grab ahold of it, quickly swerving to get rid of the visitor. After that, she hit the box again and once the glow disappeared, her fingers found themselves holding onto the chest for dear life. She put the smaller object in it, and placed it between her side and arm, her other lifting the rapier up.

Dumb! Literally dumb!

Her foot got caught in a lifted crack on the floor, causing her to plant herself on the floor. A groan emitted from her lips as she tried to ease the pain on her chest. Upon realisation, she swiftly turned and held her sword up, fighting the phantom.

“My ears hurt from your constant shrieking!” she yelled.

Due to the movement of her arms, the box had slightly drifted away from her clutch as she busied herself warding away her enemy. “I even wonder why it isn’t Lockwood that you could have bothered! You would have been at peace by now, but no. You chose the weakest link! I’m practically useless, and I might possibly be losing my talent! Now you’re the one who’s mad? I didn’t choose me! You’re the one who screwed up!”

Maybe she was the mad one, in different terms. She was talking to a ghost, for Chrysler’s sake! Even worse, having a verbal feud with it!

If only Lockwood could see her now.

That was until the ghost disappeared after a swift, almost invisible lightning speed strike. She gasped for air and turned around to see what the cause of it was, but no. What’s better is to destroy the sources and get peace once and for all. She sat up and crawled over to the object, grabbing a nearby rock and destroying it for good. The pained wailing finally died down as she loudly caught her breath, exhaustedly falling on her back with her sword clattering on the ground.

“L/N!”

That voice. That god-awful voice. She closed her eyes shut, unable to open them for a second due to her strong will to rest and recover. Look, now she was even hallucinating Lockwood calling her by her last name. It was impossible that he was there, and even if he was — she laughed slightly. He couldn’t be. If he was, she would tear the world apart just to get away from him. She wanted to be millions of miles away from him, avoiding his gaze, getting rid of his smell, and that stupid voice with that arrogant tone of his. He had crushed her dreams and hope like it was nothing, even with just a brief conversation, everything that she clung to in that agency faded in one statement that she wished she never heard from him.

But good riddance, right? At least now she knew it was the wrong agency for her. She wasn’t cut out for this kind of work.

“L/N.”

“Can voices just stop — ” she angrily mumbled, almost in a slur of words, “ — pestering me all the time? Can I just have peace for once? Is that too much to ask for?”

“If they stopped now, you wouldn’t hear what I have to say now, would you?” Now that was it. The girl’s peace had been completely shattered once and for all with that single question built in a rhetorical structure. Her eyebrows now knitted together — an exaggeration, but they almost did. Just a little smidge and they’d be meeting. It couldn’t possibly be him, could it? Her heart fluttered both bitterly and in a way that she hoped that there was hope, but knowing Anthony, he was only here as a figment of her hostile imagination. He wasn’t truly here. That would be asking for too much — only she didn’t ask anything to send him here.

“I’m sleep-deprived,” she muttered under her breath.

It took Lockwood his whole body and soul to stop himself from smiling. He thought he wouldn’t see her here, that she would be off somewhere else, and not the usual destination she would go to whenever she was upset.

A hallucination: that’s what he was to her as of this moment. She still had her eyes closed, refusing to open her eyes, and what was worse was the constant question whether she refused to see the disappointment of a world with Lockwood there or the opposite.

Then, that’s when she felt a gentle contact at the back of her neck, slowly lifting her from the ground. Panic covered her bones and took over the nerves to her brain as she mentally screamed repetitively.

She quickly opened her eyes to see him kneeling just before her, holding her as if she was a fragile glass compared to all that he's seen in his entire life in his basement.

He was there.

He was real.

He was touching her.

And he was — "Your hands are cold."

"I don't care, L/N."

There was something different. All the passionate hatred she had for him was slowly starting to well up in her chest, but being swallowed by a big flurry of adrenaline that made her blood flush in her veins faster.

It was his gaze. They'd changed into something atypical. Too . . . soft, and upon realisation, the double volume of her disdain started knocking her off again.

"No," she mumbled and quickly sat up, pushing him away from her as she scrambled to get her rapier and stand up. "You can't just come here and play the hero, and look at me like that! No!"

Confusion changed his expression, "I just helped you."

"Why do you do this to me?" Her voice has all but given up standing sturdy. She trembled both in excessive fatigue and strong emotions. "You can't just — just look at me like that after you made me feel like shit! And then what? You pity me, and you say sorry and things will go back to being shit again and the cycle continues? What do you think I am?"

"I—"

"You what? You're sorry? Why did you come here? To tell me worse things, that I'm hopeless or that maybe you're so noble that you just felt the need to help me get started with my life?"

Lockwood understood every bit of what she was saying. Her absence in that home has made him realise just how much of a cowardly bastard he was. How undeniably much of an asshole he had been to her and how much hell he'd pay. Her wrath was just the start of it.

But his understanding was growing weary. He knew in a way that Y/N had her wrongs too, "You never told us about the voices."

She halted. She really didn't have any other reason than she didn't want to appear weak and bother anyone. Besides, she doubted the existence of the voice. But there was no excuse.

"I wanted to figure things out on my own," she stated before turning to leave. Before she did though, he spoke.

"I look at you," he started as she stopped and slightly turned to her side but not completely enough to meet his eyes, "like this, not because I pity you, Y/N."

That was her name. Her first name.

"I look at you because I've been. Whenever you were unaware that I was looking. I've always seen you from the start, hence why when I said you reminded me of how things begin and end, it was because you were the first person to make me get up from my bed and the only person I want to see when the day ends. When I'm tired and weary." He then averted his gaze to the ground, "I looked at you like that earlier because I couldn't bear to look at anything else or see you in another state."

"I regret everything that I said, and I wanted you to know how hard it's been to look at your door and think that in the next few days, someone else or no one will occupy that room knowing that there were traces of you — any traces, just anything but physical. It's been torture, not just for me, but for both Lucy and George. So, I thought maybe you'd gone to the place you've been going to peculiarly for the past few months," he continued.

Indeed, he knew her, watched her, examined her.

Possibly even admired her. From afar. But he looked the other way, believed the other way because how could he afford that? How could he afford these feelings knowing he had nothing? He had himself, but he did not have anything stable that he could give her. Will that make her happy? Not at all.

"I'm sorry," he breathed out. "I know it's not enough, but I'm willing to prove to you how sorry I am. Just — I want you to know that I never intended things to be so bad and out of control, and I never meant to hurt you. I thought I was doing the right thing, but this isn't an excuse. I just want you to know that I regret everything."

"You are not a dead weight, Y/N. If anything, you're a breath of fresh air, and you make things easier every time one of us feels down. You make the mornings lighter, the end of every exhausting day a moment of opportunity to think about how thrilling life can be. You make the next days, weeks, months, and years something to look forward to. When you left, thinking about those future moments without you with us, it feels empty and terrible. A few hours without you had turned us into malfunctioning lunatics. We're in shambles — I'm in shambles. What more with days? The truth is, it's not you that's the problem. I keep causing you pain, and I'm trying to be better, because I want to be better for you. When the time comes that I do, I will try to be the best. You deserve that. It will take time, and that is why I'll understand if you don't want to return to the agency with me."

Come to think of it, as she observed his state, his Lockwood hair wasn't in its best today. His eyes looked tired and bloodshot. His always tidy flat clothes were wrinkly and his tie was out of place. He looked like he'd been through hell, and his next elaboration explained why.

"Thinking about you every now and then, especially now, I've always shifted in my seat, trying to decipher just how you affect me this much. When I found the possibility of how, I felt the sense to hide it. Every smile that you caused, I hid it all, because secretly I love bickering with you every chance we get, because I get to see the thrill in your eyes and the fire that you hide. I thought that maybe if I hated you, I would selfishly gain more feelings and learn to embrace the things I might possibly find distasteful if my feelings started the other way. And I did, I managed to admire everything you hated about yourself. You've made me feel things strong enough that whenever I run away, I still end up going back to you."

"Lockwood," she finally spoke and swivelled to face him completely. "Anthony."

"Yes?" He eagerly lifted his head to wait for her response.

She chuckled, "I thought you were about to recite Mr. Knightley when he was confessing to Emma."

That's when he laughed and nodded, accepting the fact that maybe he said too much that all she could reply was Jane Austen’s Emma joke, "Well, I have been told that I have a knack for paraphrasing."

"Do you mean all that?"

"The bickering part, most especially."

"Do you want us to bicker now?"

"I think we're already starting," he commented, which made them snicker.

"I'm sorry," she stated. Lockwood thought that was her way of telling him that it was too late. His heart was pierced by a shard of mirror which he failed to use earlier for self-reflection. That was when she smiled, "I just don't know what to say."

"You can start by accepting our job offer. We, er, have an open position looking for someone with a talent like yours," Anthony cheekily replied with a playful smile. "Our agency is one of the most prestigious agencies in London, and we ensure the safety and warm welcome — new addition, of our team, old and new. Do you accept, Y/N L/N?"

“Didn’t you hear what I said earlier? I think I’m losing my talent.”

“And you still managed to beat a type two with a frenemy in one night with a rapier, a pen, and a box?”

"You're a bloody idiot." She defeatedly let out a breath of joy and relief.

"I'm taking that as a yes. Come on, if you say yes, we'll bicker nonstop and you’ll get endless coffee privileges."

"You're a bloody idiot." She defeatedly let out a breath of joy and relief.

“Just so we could hate each other again, and be able to speak about our fondness more.” offered his hand for her to take. She leisurely took it, trying to ignore the warmth her hand provided to his cold one. He was holding her. Touching her, when a few hours ago, he couldn’t even as much as lay a finger on her.

And when they got back home, the block had been covered with missing posters of Y/N, with additional apology notes and “Lockwood sucks!” extras. That was true.

#anthony lockwood #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x reader angst #anthony lockwood angst #anthony x reader #lockwood x reader #lockwood x you #anthony lockwood x you #anthony lockwood imagines #anthony lockwood fluff #anthony lockwood x y/n #lockwood and co #lockwood & co #lockwood and co x reader #lockwood & co x reader #anthony lockwood fic #anthony lockwood fic rec #lockwood and co fic rec

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thebibliosphere · 1 year

Note

Hello! A long while back (it's had to have been at least a year at this point), you and Mothman came into where I worked with the lovely miss Holly Mop (she had fur stuck in her eye and was squinting it; we rinsed it out and sent her home). I recognized her from your blog, but didn't know how to say I knew you and read (and loved!) your work without it being awkward, since things like legal names automatically come up in our system, and I didn't want you to be worried about it? But I've (1/3)

also felt bad since then about not telling you because idk, I feel like you deserve to know if someone Recognizes You from the blue hellsite. So I guess I just wanted to say: you and Mothman were very lovely, and Holly is genuinely the cutest shih tzu I have ever seen irl and that is saying smth bc I have seen a lot. I also made a point to make myself forget everything else from that appointment, so I also have no idea who you are beyond your pen name. (⅔)

Sorry if this worries you at all - it was absolutely not my intention, I just feel you deserve to know. And I’m sorry for not telling you at the time that I recognized you. I do not expect a response from you at all, I just wanted to let you know, especially if it makes you uncomfortable and would want to block me for it ;v; I hope you have a fantastic evening, and thank you guys for being so kind to your veterinary staff. (3/3)

----------

You're going to laugh when I tell you this, but if you're who I am thinking of, when you took Holly Mop away, I turned to Mothman and said, "I think that person knows me. Or maybe they've just got Tumblr vibes. I think it's the hair."

So if you are who I think you are, you have great hair, and thank you so much for taking such good care of Ms. Holly.

She normally comes out of veterinary rooms traumatized, and our visit to see you at [redacted] was the first time that didn't happen.

It was one of the reasons we signed ourselves up for the waiting list to move her primary care there, which we just have! Holly is now an official primary patient where you work (provided you are still there), so if you see us in the future, please feel free to say hi! (if you want to, no pressure) It makes us feel better to know she's in safe hands with people who care about her and who don't set her anxiety off.

And also, please don't feel bad about not saying anything the first time around. It can be hard to walk up to someone -- especially at your job -- and be like, "I like your shoelaces" (though it has happened to me a couple of times at Target, Walgreens, my hair stylist, lol) and don't worry about knowing our identities. There's a handful of people on here who know my legal name vs my preferred name -- all we ask is that it not get posted anywhere.

Thank you for letting me know though, and thank you again for taking such good care of Holly Mop. We really appreciated it, and you made her feel so much better. 💖

#holly mop

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wyn-n-tonic · 1 year

Text

Well Read

Pairing: Teacher Ben (SNL) x f!reader Word Count: 3.0k+ Warnings: Unprotected PiV. Naughty teacher fantasy talk. Breeding kink. Author's Note: The brainrot settled in fast on this one. The gif is just a gif, there are no descriptions of reader.

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Masterlist

Thunder rattles the old windows in the half rotten frames of the classroom. The glass panes barely hanging on as rain leaks through the small openings around the window air conditioning unit you had to buy with your own money.

It’s been three years and barely hanging on, having been run for eight hours or more every day all school year long.

Ben laughed the first cold day when he walked in and heard the heavy hum, even laughed until you turned it off and let him feel for himself that it’s the only airflow in the otherwise gas range oven that is your classroom.

Everybody has already gone home, it’s well passed three and all the kids who aren’t in electives or detention have left to go live their lives.

Not you, though. Your planning hour was spent breaking up a brawl between hormonal teenage boys fighting over… fucking PokeMon cards because it is apparently still the fucking nineties. No planning hour means now you’re here well after work.

Because that’s the rule this year—work stays at work.

The other half of that is that home stays at home but that doesn’t stop Ben from pushing through the door before knocking.

His own backpack is slung over his shoulder, lunchbox in hand, and he asks if you’re almost finished. “Come on, I want to get dinner started.”

“Then go get dinner started.”

Not cold but not warm either. Flat. Voice pressured down from a day of shit just building higher on shit.

“We drove in together, sweetheart,” he reminds you. “Your car’s in the shop.”

“I'll take a Lyft,” you shrug, only glancing back up at him long enough catch the way his face falls. “I'll see you at home, I have a lot of work to catch up on.”

“Hey.” His voice is gentle and you hear the sound of his bags falling on a desktop; hear his footfalls coming closer until his large hand is covering yours. He takes the pen out of your hand and lifts your chin to look up at him with the other. “Let’s call it quits today, it’s been a tough one and I think that you could really use a nice dinner and an even bigger glass of wine.”

“But—“ You gesture to the pile of essays that need to be graded; the blank test template you need to make copies of. There are no more words left in you today, they’re defeated out by the storm and the air conditioner and the bells and the fighting and all the talking back.

Ben smirks. “Mark all of them with an A, give the kids a break because you need a break, sweetheart, let’s go home.”

“That's not fair, Benjamin,” you tell him. “That’s not fair to the kids who put the work in on these essays to give everybody the same score.”

He closes my planning book next and takes my hand. “You know what’s not fair? That you don’t give yourself a break—ever. It’s not fair that I had to put a hard rule down on work stuff being brought into our home the moment we moved in together.”

"Please just let me bring this home today, Benny,” you practically plead. “I’ll finish while you’re making dinner and then I’m all yours, I’ll take a break.”

Eyes hardening, he shakes his head. “No, sweetheart, because your idea of a break isn’t what you actually need. What you need”—he bends down, voice lowered—“is a hot bath, a glass of wine and to get every thought absolutely fucked out of your brain.”

While he lets those words settle into your ears, he takes your hand and examines your nails. “I like this color,” he says, the pad of his rough thumb swiping over the polish. “Brianna’s getting better at this every time and if you don’t think you’re a good teacher because you put yourself first for one night, I want you to think of the very huge impact you have on students like her just by letting her do your nails during study hall.”

Laughing, you tell him you doubt that. “You're her favorite teacher, she said you’re the first one to not make her read dumbass shit she’s not interested in.”

“No, you’re her favorite,” he insists, coming around the desk to start packing up my bag for me. “She told me that you let her paint your nails and listen to music even if it has curse words.” He stops, looks down at you. “I also think she’s trying to set us up… should we let her know we’re getting married?”

“Oh, are we getting married, Benjamin?” You ask him, arms crossed. “People who are getting married usually set a date, we’re just engaged.”

“For now.”

“That sounds like a threat.”

Deep breath. “It will be if you don’t get your ass in the car and let me take you home.”

Wine in hand, you watch him work from the doorway, wondering how long it will take him to notice you there. On nights that he cooks, the routine is always similar; he puts you in the bath with a very large glass of wine and a book and he takes to the kitchen with headphones in his ears and two deep lines of concentration between his eyebrows.

No headphones are in tonight, though. Instead, his audiobook plays loudly from the speaker beside the stove. On the way home, he asked if everything was okay other than the school day getting to you. Even with confirmation that you were fine, he squinted his eyes and tried to study you—to read you.

“Are you going to stand there all night?” He asks, not looking up from the task at hand. “Or are you going to come over here and kiss me?”

Taking the glass from your hand, he takes the final drink and sets it to the side. “We'll refill that later. How do you feel?”

“Better.” And you can finally appreciate the way his pants are hugging him today; the soft slope of his belly slight but visibly accentuated by the way the belt cuts into him. “You haven’t untucked your shirt.”

“Was I supposed to?” He laughs.

“I mean… you’re home but”—palming the thick bulge over the black polyester, you push closer—“I’m glad you didn’t, I haven’t gotten to appreciate how handsome you look today.”

“That’s okay, I’m sure there will be another fan cam tomorrow,” he whispers, fingers brushing along the swell of your cheek. “Do you want to eat and then”—lips drawn tight, he rocks his head back and forth in suggestions—“or do you want to do that and then eat?”

“You,” you tell him, fingers hooked into his waistband to pull him further as you stand up on your tiptoes. “My head hurts and I want you and everything else comes second.”

You don’t have to tell him twice. He switches the burners off with enthusiasm and follows you through to the living room, large hands crawling up the t-shirt that you stole just to land on your bare hips with wide eyes. “Are you not wearing panties?”

“Wanted to make your job easier for you.”

All his soothing words make the days and the nights and everything that is hard better; they make everything that is good great. Three years ago when this idiot wandered into your classroom to introduce himself as your new neighbor, he caught you on a similarly bad day and it annoyed the shit out of you. Especially after he made fun of all your maps.

Now, he’s pulling his sweater over his head and tossing it to the side after throwing you into the never made ocean of sheets and blankets that is your bed. Your shared bed in your shared home.

He starts to pull at the button up, untucking it slowly and struggling with the buttons out of nerves. That bulge of his is already so much larger than when you groped him in the kitchen and the belt buckle is moving with every shallow, belly breath he takes.

“Come here,” you say, pushing yourself up to your knees and moving forward towards him. “Let me help.”

Even when he’s the one in charge, this confident man with his soft brown eyes, he fumbles under nerves like he’s half expecting you to lash out in impatience. It’s what his ex did and you’re not a fan of her for it—or anything else for that matter—but there’s something about the relief of safety that washes over him in these moments that warm you up to the tips of your ears.

You can trust him with your bad days just as much as your good; he can trust you with his insecurities just as much as his confidences.

“You know,” you start, buttons easily coming undone with the work of your fingers. “Sometimes I think about coming into your classroom on your planning period and having you take me right there on your desk.”

“On my desk?” He asks through a smile. “Baby, you know how much trouble we’d get in.”

“Only if we get caught, Mr. Ben,” you whisper against his lips as you push the fabric off his broad shoulders. “Come on, I’ve always had a hot for teacher fantasy.”

“You are feeling better,” he smiles. “Maybe you don’t need me to fuck your brain empty after all.”

He does it to make you beg and, despite knowing this, you fall for it every time—whine for him every time.

A soft push meets your shoulders and he nods back to the pillows in encouragement.

“Don't take your belt off yet,” you beg him as he follows you up on the mattress but he only laughs, says he has to because he’s been aching after you for hours and needs a little relief now.

Hours but you’ve only been home for one, maybe two. “Are you saying this isn't just about making me feel better?”

He shakes his head, lips pursed, and he throws the belt over to the side as well. “You’re ovulating,” he says, “and the only thing I have thought about since I woke up and checked our fertility calendar is how badly I’ve wanted to get you home and put a baby in you.”

Oh god, that explains so much.

Laying back under his guidance, you spread your legs open for him and watch him take you in. Years now and it doesn’t get old; soft brown eyes studying you in silent awe, mouth open with the occasional smirk pulling up a corner of his lips. It’s like he’s reading how you want it from him and you hope he never stops.

Leaning forward between your legs, he takes a deep breath and then spits on your aching center, eyes up towards you as it falls. He doesn’t wait long after that—doesn’t play with his food as he likes to joke.

Everything is on fire already as he lays an open mouthed kiss to your core, soft moans vibrating into you and up through your own throat as you grab for his hair.

He’s a ravenous kind of lover when he wants to be but tonight he seems more focused on taking you apart slowly with the warm press of his tongue between your legs.

Not long and you’re crying for him, actually crying. Softly sobbing his name out as his nose rubs against your clit with his tongue buried deep into your entrance for more than just a taste.

You can feel him smiling with every shuddering breath as you grasp for purchase on the sheets and pleasure floods your brain.

Then he takes his mouth away, face shining with your slick as your eyes meet with some kind of electric charge between you as your chests rise and fall in time with one another.

“I feel like I should probably take your temperature,” he says finally, large hands held out as if he’s weighing his options. “Make sure your cute body is the right environment for implantation right now but—“

He goes on but you’ve tuned that out, focused in on the deep wells his fingers make as they curve over in a half closed fist. Everything about him is so gentle, including those hands and the way they hold you—the way you know they’d hold your baby.

“You're not a science teacher,” you finally say. “So save the lesson and let me make you a dad.”

It was one of the first things he ever told you—maybe the second or the third date—when you talked about your dreams and does life now look like what you wanted when you were younger. He’d said his biggest dream was to be a dad. Maybe you shouldn’t have fallen in love with him on those words alone but there was something about him that just made sense and fit perfectly into all your big dreams and big plans too.

You could see a future with this man—a family and years of happiness in those soft brown eyes.

Pants off now, he fists himself as he crawls back onto the bed. You just had sex two nights ago and, yet, somehow you feel like you haven’t been full for him in weeks. The thunder hasn’t stopped either and it’s amplifying how intense it all feels with him right now but, then, it always does when he talks about the big, life altering things he wants with you.

Slowly, he pushes in, grip on your hips tightening with every aching inch he gives to you until he’s fully seated. Those hands run up the expanse or your body beneath your shirt as he gathers the fabric and gently pulls it over your head as you lift up towards him. Only then, after a quick look down your body to the place you’re both connected, does he lay himself down on you.

Face still shiny with what you’ve given him already, he smiles into the small, closed lipped kiss he presses into you.

“Your mustache is soaked,” you tell him when he pulls back, trying to ignore the pulsing inside of you.

Those lines of concentration back between his eyebrows, he nods and starts to pull out of you before pushing back in with a groan. “And this needy little pussy is why.”

“Is pussy an appropriate word for a highly educated English teacher to be using?” You ask, goading him into coming back down and pressing that tongue of his into your mouth this time. “Such profanities are unbecoming of such a man—“

“Your cunt,” he interrupts you, one hand coming up to rest around your throat, “is so wet that I can feel it pulling me deeper and all I’m doing is just sitting here, looking at you and trying not to bust early.”

“It's okay if you do," you shrug. “You've already given me an orgasm.”

But he shakes his head and leans back down, tells you to open your mouth and spits there too before pushing his tongue flat down on yours. It catches you off guard just enough that his first real thrust is even more of a surprise and that grip he holds on your throat moves to cradles the back of your head.

The sounds in the bedroom are lewd and only covered by the sound of the rain and thunder that continue to shake the walls of your home.

He’s not rushing, though. Not trying to run through you like just another task. The care he takes with and the concentration he places into you are the reasons you find yourself over the edge in such achingly efficient time. But that doesn’t mean he follows you over and calls it a night.

No, he takes his time until you’re nothing but jelly in his hold. Eyes glazed over, curls wrapped around your fingers and begging for breath and God and him with every thrust that feels like it goes deeper and deeper.

“Are you going to make fun of me if I tell you I love you?” You ask against his lips as his concentration and pace both start to falter. “Because ovulating or not, you would’ve still fucked me like this just for having a bad day and I-I—oh fuck—” Your muscles are seizing up beneath the surface of your skin and it pushes a moan straight into his greedy mouth.

“I would never make fun of you,” he breathes out heavily. “I would fuck you like this even if we couldn’t have kids; I will fuck you like this on every good day or bad day you have for the rest of your life if that’s what you want.”

Languid and slow, the way his tongue moves against yours is confusing your interpretation of his rhythm between your legs even as it picks up again. Every nerve in your body is screaming for him, alive and on fire beneath him and around him with his soft kisses and hard thrusts.

A deep sigh of relief finally leaves his lips as he swells inside of you and warmth rushes through you and out around him to start pooling and cooling beneath your bare body.

Being finished doesn’t mean he leaves though. He stays inside of you, twitching and thrusting occasionally as he continues kissing you with his hands hooked around your shoulders and every ounce of his body weight pressing down into you.

This man treats you with an intimacy you never knew could exist. Not for you, at least. He is hungry and in love and both insatiable for and always satisfied with you. He reads you like he wrote you; knowledge of your body and your brain and your heart encoded so deeply into him and you know—you feel it deep down in the pit of your being—that this will only grow as you do and your family does.

"Did that help get all the thoughts out of your head, sweetheart?” He asks, laying his forehead against yours.

A few deep breaths is all the confirmation he needs until, finally, you say, “I think I forgot to turn off the air conditioner.”

#lol what to tag this as?#teacher ben my beloved #teacher ben (snl)#mr. ben (snl)#teacher ben x reader #teacher ben x you #teacher ben fanfiction #mr. ben x reader #mr. ben x you #lmao wtf #snl #saturday night live #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character #o writes

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child-of-the-nights · 2 years

Text

You holding them while they fall asleep part 2

Lotr and The Hobbit characters x Reader

Trope: Hurt/Comfort

Summary: You comfort them after a long day and they fall asleep in your arms

Featured: Elrond, Kili, Fili, Aragorn, Gimli

Previous part: Thranduil, Thorin, Legolas, Bilbo, Tauriel

Warnings: mention of near death experience, mention of death, mention of vomit (only in a joke)

- Gender neutral reader -

Elrond:

It came as no surprise that Elrond worked a lot. You were pretty much used to it at that point. But even if he was busy, Elrond made sure to come to bed while you were still awake to get to spend some time with you. Sometimes he returned to his work but most of the time he slept alongside you.

This night however, he was unable to finish his work in time. He was far too stressed to think and he felt like his head was going to explode. The ring was yet to be destroyed, Arwen, his own daughter, wanted to leave for a mortal man, and to top it all off, Elrond had to look out for his people. The pressure was just too much for him to handle.

So he sat in his study, staring at the papers yet his mind was elsewhere. Elrond sighed before putting down his pen. He knew that if he couldn’t get anything done then he should probably retire for the night.

Only when he saw you sleeping form on your shared bed did he realise how long he’d been in his study. He attempted quietly sitting down as to not startle you but the exhaustion got the better of him.

“Elrond?” you asked as soon a you opened your eyes. He sent you a reassuring smile before taking off his boots. After setting them on the floor he turned to you with tired eyes.

He sighed as he moved closer to you, finally wrapping his arms around your sleepy form. You started stroking his hair as he buried his face in your neck.

“Is everything okay, melethronen (my beloved)?” you whispered after pressing a kiss on his forehead.

“Yes, melethen (my love), be at rest now.”

You knew something was wrong but you were smarter than to press a topic he didn’t wish to talk about.

Elrond pressed a kiss to your neck before wishing you good night. You returned the endearment and closed your eyes. It didn’t take long for the both of you to fall asleep as you both were exhausted.

Kili:

Oh god Kili was just so tired. He nearly lost his life twice, nearly lost his brother and uncle, had to go to war for his home and so on. He just wanted to rest and once everything was over, he finally could.

He quietly excused himself after saying goodbye to Bilbo and took you with him. You were confused for a second of course; you thought he would rather enjoy feasting with the rest of the dwarves. But Kili had other ideas.

Kili took you to a quiet room, where he placed something soft on the floor and sit down on it, patting the place next to him. You chuckled as you sat down and he immediately pulled you to the floor. So now you were both lying there.

He placed his head on your chest and you began playing with his hair. It wasn’t until you’ve been there for at least twenty minutes he finally decided to explain why he dragged you here.

“I’m really tired, amrâlimê (my love).” he whispered. “This journey was long and exhausting.”

“I know but it’s over now” you pressed a kiss on his head, “and we get to rest for as long as we wish.”

Kili smiled a little as he looked up at you. The admiration and love in his eyes were enough for you to understand that no matter what you have to go through, you will always have each others’ back. Even if that something is war or a bunch of orcs trying to kill you.

He turned his head back hugged you a little tighter. You chuckled and closed your eyes. You could feel how Kili slowly started to relax in your arms.

Because of how exhausted you were from your shared journey, you two fell asleep very quickly. Of course, people came to look for you but when they saw you sleeping, they left without a word. Fili did end up teasing his brother about it though.

Fili:

Even though you’ve been traveling for some time now, you still weren’t anywhere near Erebor. You knew from the beginning that the journey was going to last for a long time, yet you became rather sick of constantly wandering.

Fili couldn’t blame you for it as he felt the same. He wanted to get Erebor back with his entire being but the journey was so long and tiring. What he missed the most was probably spending time with you. It’s not that you were separated now but Fili wanted some alone time with his beloved.

After succesfully running into trolls, orcs and literally everything else, he felt oddly relaxed when they could settle down for the night. You didn’t get much of a chance for a peaceful night so he found it sort of weird.

But he snatched you away from everyone to sit in a quiet corner. You didn’t do much there as both of you were too tired to even talk but you did listen to the stories the other dwarves and Bilbo had to share. Occasionally you would even laugh when the little hobbit said funny.

“If this wasn’t a mission to get the mountain back, I would simply think we are out here to camp.” you commented. “It is rather cozy if you ignore the fact that we are chased by every being in Middle-Earth.”

“The elves aren’t chasing us.” he shrugged. “Not yet at least.”

“Should I be concerned of whatever you wish to do to change that?”

“Of course not, amrâlimê (my love).”

By his short answers, you could tell that Fili was exhausted so you just sighed and started stroking his hair. You could practically feel him melt under your touch.

Soon you could hear his quiet snores. You gently pressed a kiss to his forehead as you got comfortable enough to fall asleep. It took you some time (thanks to the loud laughter near you) but you did manage to follow Fili to the land of dreams.

Aragorn:

Aragorn was used to fighting and you were too. No matter if you knew how to fight before you met Aragorn or not, you had no other choice but to learn. Aragorn made sure that nothing would happen to you, of course, but there were powers even him couldn’t protect you from.

That being said, you traveled around Middle-Earth with him. He took you to a bunch of places. You were able to learn about a lot of different cultures. Especially while you were in Rivendell with Aragorn.

But constantly moving and fighting did take it’s toll on you. When you finally had time to rest, you didn’t hesitate to do so. Aragorn on the other hand had some other business to attend to.

While he was out, you decided to take a long awaited nap. You could feel the tension leave your muscles as you lied down. With a sigh you closed your eyes and almost immediately fell asleep. You only woke up to the sound of Aragorn entering the room.

When you opened your eyes you saw the slouched form of your lover. You were still sleepy so you could barely comprehend what was happening so you just whispered ‘welcome’. After he didn’t respond you sat up and rubbed your eyes.

“Is everything okay, my love?” you asked and he finally looked at you. Aragorn’s eyes weren’t as full of life as you remembered them. They looked dark and serious so you knew something had happened.

You reached out for him and he gladly took your hand. Aragorn slowly laid down beside you taking your hand to his lips and pressing a kiss to it. After that he rested his head on your chest as he put his arms around your waist.

“Long day.” he muttered. “But it’s all better now.”

You chuckled at that as you stroked his head. Aragorn hummed at your reaction before pressing a kiss to your chest.

“Good night, Aragorn.”

“Good night, melethen (my love).”

Soon you both were asleep.

Gimli:

You knew the journey would be long, dangerous and tiring when you signed up for the Fellowship. And you did lose a lot. Boromir gave his life for the cause and that took it’s toll on you.

Thankfully, Gimli was there to cheer you up. Sure he was a little unsure what to do but a few jokes did the thing. You smiled and laughed, which was enough to satisfy Gimli. That being said, he never stopped. He even got Legolas to share some encouraging words with you.

But that didn’t make the journey less tiring. When you got the chance, you went to sleep only to be jolted awake by one of your friends saying that orcs are nearby. So constantly running around and killing orcs definitely didn’t help you relax.

However, no matter how tired you felt, you promised Gimli that you would join the trio on that night’s party. And you did indeed join them; that was until your dwarven lover got beaten by Legolas in a drinking game. You had to drag Gimli away from the table before he could do something stupid.

Gimli could barely stand on his feet by the time you got him to a place you could sleep at. You laid down, him following you. Not that he had much of a choice, seeing that he just groaned as he landed on your bed.

You sighed as you pulled him on your chest. He grumbled something under his nose but you didn’t understand what it was. Gimli wrapped his arm around you and snuggled closer.

“If you vomit on me, you’ll sleep in the main hall.” you whispered as you pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

“I’m not drunk.” he muttered.

“Sure, love.” you sighed.

You kept your eyes on the ceiling for a few minutes before you wanted to ask how your lover was feeling but the voice died in your throat when you heard his snores. With a smile, you closed your eyes finally being able to rest.

#lotr x reader #the hobbit x reader #lord of the rings x reader #elrond x reader #kili x reader #fili x reader #aragorn x reader #gimli x reader #elrond x you #kili x you #fili x you #aragorn x you #gimli x you #lotr x you #the hobbit x you #lord of the rings x you

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fishuus · 4 months

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hi!! Your art is incredible and awesome... not sure how to say it otherwise but it's super tasty looking lol 🫶

I was wondering if you have ever posted what brushes do you use ? I am always on the lookout for nice brushes! Also if you've got any tips for inking, I'd appreciate it enormously. No worries if not! 💕

hi, thanks so much!

i mostly just use whatever defaults came with clip studio paint. for inking, my go-to is the the default marker pen brush (under the marker tab in pens), but sometimes i'll swap to the calligraphy one (should be in the pen tab), or this brush but with the pen pressure turned off. just depends on how i'm feeling about whatever i'm inking. when i want to add some texturing when toning, i use stuff like the spray or diagonal line brushes (again, should be included in CSP), i just make an eraser version of them so i can also use them on layer masks.

as for inking tips ... i don't have any hard and fast "always do x for y" advice but i rambled a little about how i approach it.

this first point is actually pretty straightforward, it's just to look at inking techniques by artists you like, think about what makes them work so well in their context, and try them out for yourself. this isn't about plagiarizing art styles but more about understanding how other artists choose to stylize certain things in their work, and seeing what works and what doesn't for you personally. sometimes it's through looking at other people's stylizations that you get a better understanding of how you want to approach translating this actual 3d object (people, clothes, background details, whatever) into your own art as well. as you try out various techniques, maybe you find that some of them work well with your own style, and some of them don't and you stop incorporating those. it's all a constant work in progress. over time you can adjust how you use them in a way that fits your own drawing methods and workflows and they just start to come more naturally to you. of course, they may and should change a lot along the way because now it's something that's part of your own style. in essense, work on developing a good eye for these things and be thoughtful about what you want to convey and how.

just as an example, daiya no ace by terajima yuji definitely has to be up there for me in terms of influences, the way he approached body lines and clothing folds as a way to convey movement and posing made a lightbulb turn on in my head back when i was still reading it.

not a comprehensive list, but other manga i just like looking at off the top of my head - rookies (morita masanori), anything by yamashita tomoko but i really recommend the night beyond the tricornered window for something that's easily accessible, anything by asada nemui (please check for content warnings for their works first though!), all-rounder meguru (endo hiroki), urasawa naoki's works, dungeon meshi (kui ryoko), witch hat atelier (shirahama kamome), yotsuba&! (azuma kiyohiko), a bride's story (mori kaoru), i recollect love (moegi yukue), the later works of tojitsuki hajime (unfortunately a lot of is now out of print and not accessible online but i managed to get all their books bc their commitment to crosshatching shaved heads each time impressed me so much LMAOSJDsd) etc, etc.

this second thing is much vaguer and harder to quantify but ... honestly just draw a lot and see what feels good to your hand. inking and art styles in general are fluid things. so much of what inking comes down to, to me, is just drawing the lines that in a way that feels good to me. that only really comes from doing it a lot (not saying i'm a hardcore artist or anything lol just that i've been drawing on and off for a while now) and, well, getting a sense of what you like doing. sometimes you might look at a detail you finished that looks really good but feels like a happy accident, and it kinda is, but it's also just as much of the things you've internalized over time. combining the first point (developing your eye and a sense of thoughtfulness about inking) and the second (getting experience through developing your muscle memory) is basically it.

idk if any of this made sense lol but hope some of it helps!!!!!

#asks #girl help! pondering the nature of what i enjoy about inking

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beelsnack · 6 months

Text

Sweet Nothings - OM Beelzebub and a Diabetic MC

Listen this is one of the most self-indulgent pieces I've ever written and I'm not ashamed of it. There's no way I'm the only diabetic simp in this community lol

This was meant to be part of a bigger series but I got carried away and made it it's own piece. So, sneak peak for future works I guess.

For my non diabetics out there, the thing that the human has on their arm is a CGM - continuous glucose monitor. It's exactly what it sounds like, a little sensor you stick in your arm so you can keep a constant eye on your levels.

-----

“What’s that?”

The human glanced up at Beelzebub from across the table the two of them were sitting at. A new restaurant had just opened up in the heart of the Devildom, and the owner had invited Beel to come on the grand opening day as a PR move. Beel, in turn, had invited the human to come along with him as his date.

“What’s what?” they asked. Beel inclined his head towards where they were holding the back of their phone against their shoulder.

“The thing on your arm.”

“Oh,” the human pulled their phone away and glanced at it. “I’m just checking my blood sugar. This thing is so much better than having to prick my finger all the time.”

Beel looked even more confused. “I don’t understand. Humans have to check their blood?”

“Not all of us,” the human muttered, frowning at their phone. From the angle they had it, Beel couldn’t see exactly what it said, but the screen was a vibrant orange color. “I knew I felt gross. No dessert for me, I guess.”

“Why not?”

“Sugar’s high,” the human shrugged. Now that he thought about it, the human did look a little weak and pale. They reached into the little bag that they always carried with them and pulled out a pen. They uncapped it, spun the little dial on top, and Beel watched in shock as they lifted up their shirt and jabbed the needle into their abdomen.

“You have to give yourself a shot?”

“Five times a day,” they recapped the pen and slipped it back into their bag. “Kind of sucks, but it beats the alternative.”

“What’s the alternative?” Beel asked. He had completely given up on looking at the menu in favor of staring at the human in abject horror.

“Shakiness, going blind, organ failure,” they shrugged again. “Honestly, I try not to think about it too much.”

Beel’s eyes were as wide as the plates that their appetizers had been served on. “So you can’t eat sweets?”

“I can, just not a lot, and I have to be careful,” they shrugged. “Not tonight, though.”

Right then, the waiter returned to take their order, looking anxious. Word had probably spread about Beel’s notorious appetite, but he was also known as a generous tipper, so likely the server didn’t quite know how to feel about this one. About half-way through Beel’s order, the human saw the poor demon roll their wrist to alleviate some pressure.

“...That should be enough, right?” Beel muttered to himself before turning to the human. “Sorry, I ordered without asking if you were ready.”

The color seemed to drain from the server’s face and they hurried flipped over to a new page. The human resisted the urge to laugh.

“I’ll have…” they trailed their finger down the menu and stopped about a third or the way down. “That one, please.”

The server looked relieved and scribbled down the order before dashing off, likely afraid that Beel would tack more on to the order if they stayed around for too long.

“So, wait,” Beel started, looking thoughtful. “Why can’t you have sugar? Are you allergic?”

“...Honestly, not a bad way to put it, but not technically.” the human replied. “So human’s need to eat food to get energy to do things, right?”

Beel nodded.

“So insulin is the hormone that lets the energy from the food get from the blood into the cells. I have a disease called diabetes, which means my body doesn’t make that hormone. They can make it artificially, which is that shot that you just saw me give myself.”

“Where do they get it?” Beel asked, eyeing the server as they walked past them carrying someone else’s order. “Do other humans donate it like blood?”

“Y’know, that is a great question for Google when we get home.”

The server appeared beside them. “Would you like some more water?”

“Oh, yes, thank you,” the human smiled, scooting out of the way so the server could refill their glass. When they turned around to leave, however, Beel called out.

“Excuse me, sir?”

The server flinched before turning around and acknowledging Beel with a very tight smile. “Yes?”

Beel reached over to where he had tucked the dessert menu. “We won’t need this, sorry.”

The human raised their eyebrows. “Beel, you can have dessert.”

Beel shook his head as the server dutifully tucked the menu under their arm and darted back into the kitchen. “It wouldn’t be fair for me to have dessert if you can’t. We’ll just go out for ice cream when you feel better.”

#this is very specific but it's my blog and I'll write what I want #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me beelzebub #obey me beel

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tpher · 6 months

Note

how do you make your oc screencap edits?? i also have a td oc and i dont really know where to start 😭

ok so!!! i use firealpaca which is just my usual drawing program. so i'll keep using it as a reference for my steps but of course im sure whatever similar program u use should have similar features

i'll be long winded for funsies as usual 💕

FINDING YOUR SCREENSHOTS

the key to decent td edits is to flat out trace screenshots whenever possible. stock pics will do, but of course itll be a lot more fun and less obvious if u use a screenshot from the show and put it into your new context

in terms of making your ocs, you will likely have to do what someone once called "frankensteining" your pics. this is where you use pics of other characters for their specific features and put them together since your oc doesnt have official screenshots to trace. this also absolutely comes in handy w canon characters! maybe you have a pose but u need them to be sitting. so try to stitch together two different pics to get what u need

it will look very scary but just trust the process. here is a random example i made using a dawn screenshot (where i removed the background), gwens eyes and eyebrows, and kittys hair

the sketching part is semi-optional. if you think you can freehand the lineart then go ahead but i assume your oc wont be a complete copy of something found in canon and therefore you will have to draw the newer/different features (such as the hair or the outfit) at least a little bit. and sometimes when i frankenstein the pics, my brain gets all overwhelmed so sketching makes me feel better jfbdjdnd

(in terms of my own oc, i screwed myself over bc his body type is so unique i gotta freehand it like all the time 😭

you can see i traced his head from his render (ALWAYS DO THIS BTW!!! TRACE CONSTANTLY), but then the body was freehanded using a canon pic as reference because tracing the pic wouldve been inaccurate)

THE LINEART

yes the iconic td thick, sharp, flat lineart. i achieve this by using a normal pen tool, turning off the pen pressure, and then turning up my pen stability to 40-60 (very high). you could use a curve tool if that works for you! but i would suggest against that for ALL of it bc the tool just wont respond well to rly drastic curves and such

the pen size varies on the pic. if the characters are close-up, itll likely be a bigger one. and then the characters' little details and facial features are usually a slightly but definitely noticeable smaller size. for the most part, ive had the bigger pen size at 13 while the details are around 9. or big size 10 and smaller size 7.

heres my technique:

as u can see, all of my lines go a bit too far. this is so that when im done drawing them, i can go back in and slowly erase where they meet and get them all sharp and pointy. this is just how i personally do it lmao. when it comes to facial features and other stuff that doesnt connect to anything, just get a close look at your reference to see how thick or how thin the edges get and do ur best to erase the edges to the point where they should be

THE COLORING

not much to it! the bucket tool is the best way to go. again just get a good look at your references just in case any parts have the lineart also colored in

THE BACKGROUND

you can find some generic td background pics on google or u could get them from the show and try to erase any character in the way lmao. if ur recreating something like, say, a dunc/ney scene w a different ship, then its very tedious but youll have to do your best to erase the canon characters and piece the background back together.

i like using the smudge tool a lot for this!!! just kinda pulling whats already there towards the characters. to save time, put your drawing visible on a top layer as you do this so that you dont have to edit the ENTIRE background, just what you need

THE RENDERING

ok so heres a big one imo. after youre done, youre gonna have to fuck up the quality at least a little. well not that u HAVE to but like..... to match the standard quality of a td screenshot? ive never seen a td screenshot in perfect hd quality outside of stock art. so u could blur ur drawing just a little bit. maybe add in the teeniest bit of chromatic aberration (just set it to 1 or -1). not ALL of them together but u do whatever u gotta do

my personal favorite is blurring just a little and then saving it as a jpeg (around 65-80%) so that its pretty crunchy and looks all the more real

obviously not a NECESSARY step but just something to point out. especially if ur background isnt the best quality so the characters have to match it

this one from yesterday i didnt even redraw topher bc i was lazy and he looks fine enough. i just put danny onto the pic to cover the other character. so i blurred danny a little bit and then saved it in a pretty low quality so that they match one another. look at those pixels. that crunch.

SO THE TLDR IS just trace and copy your references as close as possible. if you cant find a reference for your character, try finding another character w something close enough

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attyattlaw · 8 months

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heyyy I'm new to digital art, would you mind sharing some tips regarding programs and tutorials and etc? also on how to turn a real life piece into a beautiful and clean digital piece... really love your art

oh good luck with your art journey! my experience with digital art is pretty dated (as in a decade + levels dated) and i might be too out of touch to give beginner tips but regardless, allow me to attempt

Programs: it would help to know which hardware you have for digital but ill put down some i have experience in 1. Clip Studio Paint Pro - PC/Android/ipad/everywhere i think? unfortunately they betrayed humankind and its now a subscription everywhere but on PC. i bought a one-time license years years years ago on sale and its probably the best available on my end. I also got it on subscription on android so i can sync works between my PC and tablet. its very flexible in a way that you can draw with it in the most basic way single layer sketches or whatever but they have so many features and keep adding more.

2. procreate - ipad only never been an apple user but my friend is, and he's been a procreate user forever. he recently tried CSP on ipad though and he still claims he likes procreate better for ease of use and compatibility with tablet ergonomics and apple pen

3. medibang paint - pc/android/ipad

free forever. and out of all the free programs i recommended my other digital art newbie friend this is what he liked best.

4. adobe photoshop - dont even look at this the only reason i have one is im leeching off company license. its still unfortunately the industry standard tho but CSP is much cheaper and has the same controls and most of the basic functions 5. Paint Tool SAI - my first art program but i haven't tried it again. honestly still think this has the best brush flexibility and pen pressure control ----- As for tutorials, i find digital art has such a steep and high skill ceiling and its a challenge im still tackling and probably will forever tackle haha. I'm trying to osmosis painting techniques from splash art painters from League of Legends who most of them post complete timelapses (my favorite being Bo Chen) where you can study not just their techniques but like, art directions that make their pieces striking. Anyway, I also promised a friend I would make a simple coloring tutorial so maybe after inktober hustle, I would look for a piece there I'd use for the guide.

---- Traditional to digital is never a satisfactory process to me but if you can, invest on a scanner. I use an epson v39, had it for years.

scanned vs edited. the goal is to at least get the white of the paper as white as possible and the blacks the blackest, without whitewashing/burning the rest of the colors. Level correction function is your best friend here and most art programs have that.

Then i just clean dust and errors and slide the contrasts around until it looks as close to the original piece

If you have a decent phone camera, you can get away just posting instagram aesthetic pics with materials framing it or smth and just edit as usual. natural light tends to be a lot more forgiving than the harsh light of scanners anyway.

Anyway I hope this helps and have fun learning!

#granpa voice: back in my day we didnt have phones or tablets capable of drawing #we had to use dodge and burn on pirated photoshop apps using a mouse on the family computer #i think i also started digitals a bit late in life so unlike younger millenials and gen Zs its not easy as second nature to me #compared to traditional mediums at least

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elbarkla · 2 months

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Check it out everyone, 3 years of art progress! And I wrote a guide for beginners! 😊

Hi! I’m Laura, age 31. I’ve always drawn occasionally, but never really stuck with it. Frankly it stressed me out. I’d draw for a month, then cry a bunch, then quit for a couple more years. But this time I turned it into a habit somehow. I’ve been drawing near-daily since Feb ‘21 and my life is better for it. Art’s a huge part of me now; it affects how I spend my time, how I express myself, and how I see the world. I feel like a happier, more complete human being.

So here’s what worked for me. This is a guide for hobbyists (I don’t have commercial ambitions) and it may or may not work for you. But I hope you can learn something from it regardless. Without further ado, my thesis:

~ Laura’s Steps for Drawing A Lot and Hopefully Getting Better ~

1 – Manage Your Health

Know what’s bad for your art? Depression! Glad I got around to treating mine. But for real, if you lack self-confidence you might want to check your mental health. It isn’t the sole factor but it can rapidly overtake the others. Every day I see a post like “how do I improve, every time I try to draw I’m overwhelmed with thoughts I’m bad at everything and a burden to the people around me”. That’s relatable but not a healthy way to see yourself. Low self-esteem can be treated. Please consider talking to someone - you’re a wonderful, lovable person and deserve a happy life.

Also, try to get plenty of sleep and eat regular meals; it helps with everything. Exercise is worth a shot too. Going for walks is good for your mind and body. Yes it’s boring, but boredom gives you space to imagine things.

#2 – Make It Fun

You’re taking this too seriously. Yes, you. It’s just a hobby. Take the pressure off. Have fun.

What does that mean? It means you need to make art approachable. It has to be a comfort hobby you’re naturally drawn to. That means killing all thoughts of what you SHOULD do. If it makes you want to draw, go for it. Anime characters? Pretty ladies? Fanart? Furries? Doodles from imagination? Zentangles? Pencils? Digital? Do it. If drawing the “right way” burns you out, draw things the wrong way instead. You know who draws a lot? Children. You know who doesn’t draw super well? Children. Have that mindset. Draw like a child. Don’t compare yourself to others; just enjoy the process of creating something. You had that ability once and I know you can reacquire it.

Intimidated by an empty sketchbook? Don’t wanna ruin a white page? That’s OK; find something you don’t mind ruining. Grab a half-used notebook and a ballpoint pen. You EXPECT those to look horrendous. If you can have fun filling that notebook, you can have fun drawing regularly, and if you draw regularly you can slowly improve your art. It happened to me. I went from rarely drawing to wanting to do it every day. I still sketch in ballpoint now; it’s fun and comfortable.

Also, if drawing’s NOT fun? That’s OK too! There’s loads of ways to express creativity; go do do one of those. For me it was The Sims 3, then knitting, then drawing. Find something accessible and build your confidence up. The world needs bonsai trees and Minecraft castles just as much as drawings. <3

#3 – Seek Instruction

You’ve made drawing a habit, congratulations! You’ve probably learned heaps already; it’s natural to work out techniques as you go. But deducing art wisdom from scratch isn’t super efficient. There’s no need to reinvent the wheel when you can learn so much from others.

You can do a paid course (great way to meet people), but you don’t have to. All the information’s free on the internet! Teachers will cover the same things in different ways or from different perspectives. There’s no exclusive knowledge; the more you study, the more overlap you’ll notice. It all comes together for a more complete understanding of fundamental concepts.

Here’s some of my favourite resources (currently all available free online)(except the Winslow one which was taken down, boo):

r/artfundamentals, ie. drawabox.com . A great starter course on how to hold a pen, draw lines, build forms and so on. You can follow structured lessons or just practice whatever you need to.

How to Draw: Drawing and Sketching Objects and Environments from Your Imagination, by Scott Robertson. This book’s the gold standard on perspective and great for technical thinkers. It gets VERY advanced but there’s basic stuff to learn from as well. If the textbook intimidates you, try this excellent video playlist by Dan Beardshaw. He walks you through the same concepts in a simple approachable manner. Vital information if you want your work to look 3D.

anything by Andrew Loomis. He’s an icon for a reason; the Loomis head is a standard art tool to this day. I also enjoy the anachronistic career advice (“all advertisers will pay for a well-drawn head” or whatever it was). Here’s the ones I’ve read and enjoyed:

Fun with a Pencil

Figure Drawing for All It’s Worth

Drawing The Head and Hands

Creative Illustration (my current fave, great for composition)

Classic Human Anatomy in Motion, by Valerie L. Winslow. Hot take – people who say “learn anatomy” to beginners are idiots. SO MANY fundamentals come before anatomy if you wanna draw good-looking characters. You’ll get better results studying proportion, form, gesture, shapes and composition first. But if/when you want to learn bones and muscles, this is the book for you! It’s probably overkill, but I loved the breakdown of facial muscles and how they create expression. Top-tier reaction image material.

Proko!! Fabulous Youtube channel. Not only is Stan a great teacher, he invites on other artists too. Just go to his search bar and plug in a keyword; you’ll always find something helpful. I recommend his channel if you want to draw humans (loads of gesture, forms, proportion, anatomy etc.), but there’s a video or two on everything. Some of my other favourite videos:

Mind-Blowing Realistic Shading Tricks. Simple effective intro to light and shadow, I still go back and learn from it.

How to Draw Dynamic Shapes – FORCE Series Part 3. So compelling I bought the book afterwards. Blew my mind, instantly improved all my shapes and in turn my composition and gesture.

Painting Skin Tones and How Light Affects Color. Marco Bucci’s a genius with colours, he explains value and saturation in such fascinating ways.

Digital Shape Carving with Scott Flanders – good companion to the shading video above, teaches dramatic silhouettes and cel-shading within a really interesting workflow.

Google. Any question. Throw it in. Someone’s made a video or reddit post about it. You’d be surprised! I swear, the number of times I’ve typed “composition tips” or “digital watercolour clip studio paint” or “how draw horse head”.

Remember, take it easy. Don’t burn yourself out. Back off if you feel the tears creeping in. Study should supplement your drawings, not replace them. If in doubt, revert to step 2 – “bad” art is better than no art.

4– Study Life

If you did step 3 you’re way ahead of me on this one. USE REFERENCES. Draw things from photos (or real life if possible). Fill your brain with visual information. Here’s a thread I made for sharing references of humans.

What if you prefer to draw from imagination? That’s fine – try a hybrid approach. Doodle whatever comes to you, then look up references and try again. For example I’ll doodle a bear, then draw from photos of bears, then doodle new bears using the things I learned. It’s fun and also a good way to test your knowledge. You may also enjoy combining different references; eg drawing animal fusions, combining poses with an outfits etc. It gets easier to do the more you practice.

Between art pieces I keep a balance between drawing from imagination, drawing from reference, following art lessons, and studying other artists. Speaking of which –

5 – Study Art

Ever heard “Don’t draw anime until you’ve learned anatomy?” or “Learn the rules before you break them?” I strongly disagree with both of those statements. Fundamentals are great but there’s never a point you stop learning them, and studying life won’t teach you how to stylise. That’s why you also need to learn from your favourite artworks. This gets easier/more efficient as you build your broader art skills, but you can learn styles at any point of your art journey (see – step 2). In fact, it makes study more enjoyable, since stylised art can look better and feel more “you”. You already know what you want to create– why not start now?

Let’s take anime as an example. That’s a huge genre with loads of variation. So, what’s your personal taste? Round and cute, or sharp and serious? Choose your favourite shows and study how they do it. Observe their lines, shapes and proportions. Then try it yourself. Make fanart. Not only is replication good art practice in general, it’ll teach you a bunch of new tricks. For original work, pull from loads of sources, the more diverse the better. Work in your love for Silver Age comics or medieval tapestries or German expressionism. The more places you learn from, the more unique and personal your style will be. Your art becomes a visual scrapbook of all the artists you love. I think that’s beautiful. <3

6 – Find Community

Art friends! Best thing ever. You can bond over your shared obsession, commiserate over tough parts, and learn about art together. A lot of my drawings are in-jokes exchanged with my BFF. I’ve known them from childhood (lucky) but apparently adults can make friends too. Fandom spaces are great for this; many Discord channels have a dedicated artists’ zone. You can also try r/sketchdaily or challenges like Mermay/Inktober if you want a sense of community.

If you don’t have art friends (yet), that’s OK; parasocial works too! I like watching “Draw With Me” content on Youtube. It’s great to put on while you’re creating, especially when you don’t have the energy for something educational. Not only is it inspiring, you can learn tips and tricks along the way. And of course, you can never go wrong with Bob Ross.

7 – Be Interesting

The very first step was to manage your health. In a way, we’ve looped back to the beginning. Because no matter what you do, art begins and ends with who you are. You can practice fundamentals 12 hours a day but if you never live your life, you’ll never make interesting art. No one cares for artists whose only character trait is how hard they grind. So go be the most vibrant version of yourself. Take up weird hobbies. Make weird friends. Seek new experiences. Question the beliefs you grew up with. Read books for a while instead of drawing. Develop your principles. Embrace what makes you different. Survive the worst year of your life somehow. Learn what makes you thrive. Your art won’t be for everyone. But it WILL mean the world to some. And to me, that’s the whole point of doing this. Good luck, fellow artist. The world is your adventure yet to come. I believe in you. <3

#art progress #art tips #art tutorial #art resources #art guide #artists on tumblr #elbarklaart

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beansprean · 1 year

Note

Hey bean!!!! I love your art so so much and your comics fill me with joy!! Would you mind sharing what's your process to make them?

Helllooooooo ty!! Of course!! Tbh it’s pretty loosey goosey and procreate isn’t the greatest program for comic building, but I manage lol. I usually start with the dialogue (my favorite thing to write!) which may initially be written blearily in bed at 3am in my notes app or directly onto the canvas. I usually build scenes based on the dialogue, which I’m sure is obvious in hindsight since most of my comics are just long drawn out arguments LOL. From there, I do a very rough sketch/storyboard to get the idea of the page down and how I want the panels to look, expressions, movement, etc. I’ll use a piece from queening the pawn act 2 part 2 as a simple example:

I primarily use the 6b pencil for these two stages. Very rough!! Then I turn the opacity wayyy down and do a cleaner sketch over the top, nailing down more details and expressions. This is also where I will use pose references if needed and warp the lines if I need to make something bigger/smaller (bc I don’t have vector layers and they will get blurry once I resize lol). I also usually add the dialogue text at this stage so I can refer to it without having to open up and squint at the barely-there storyboard layer lol. (More under cut, I am not known for my brevity)

Now I can do the lineart (studio pen!) and draw the panel boxes (by hand like a loser using the monoline calligraphy brush). I do the panels after the lineart so I know exactly how to size them for the characters and what I might be cutting off. I do the background lineart after so I don’t end up drawing more than I need to outside the boxes.

You can see at this point I decided to change Guillermo’s position in the first panel, having his arms down rather than up and removing his glasses - the angle of his left hand ended up being very finicky and I decided I wanted to see his expression (and not worry about his glasses immediately reappearing in the next panel lol). I can now add the background, which I either erase around the characters or use a masking layer on (if I have room for more layers lol) Then I start coloring, primarily using a very plain no-pressure paint brush (custom, for to save my wrist) for base colors and then build on patterns from there, changing layers as needed. I add my cheek color at 50% multiply, pop on the dialogue bubbles, and that’s pretty much it!

Very simple shot-reverse-shot scene, but my process is pretty much the same even for more complex stuff like

I’ll play around a lot with effects and background and lighting if I feel like it or if I feel the scene demands it (like the glasses panel - the Tarantino eyes and the glasses flash add to the dra~ma lol), and one thing I know I need to work on is flow! My instinct is often to expect your eyes to go left to right, down, and left to right again, but it’s really pleasing to have something to follow with your eye -like dialogue boxes. In the above you can see how I warped the panels and the angles of Guillermo’s attack to try to make it more exciting to look at and have a smoother flow. Def better than just two rectangular panels on top of each other, but I could have gone way harder on the angle of impact. Always learning and growing!! I just run out of room so often bc I hate using different canvasses for multiple pages, I feel like I lose the flow if I can’t see them on top of each other lol.

ANYWAY. Long fucking post. If you want to start drawing comics my advice is to Just Do It. The more you do them, the better you’ll get and the more fun you’ll have making them!! I never ever thought I would be the kind of person who does longform fan comics (we love you reapersun), but here I am having a blast lmao. Hope this answers your inquiry even a little bit, I’m afraid I am both long winded and extremely undisciplined!! ❤️❤️

#anonymous #tutorial #sorta #comics #wwdits

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rosenongrata · 30 days

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solitary solidarity - vi

Summary: A selection of writings that explore the early days of the odd relationship between Doctor Veritas Ratio and Missus Kagome Ikeda.

A/N: ouhhh i love this chapter so much. it was so fun to write !!

c.w/s: varies on what part, but i'll make sure to mark each addition with the proper tags in the a/n. OC-insert. depictions of illnesses (both physical and mental). c.ws for chapter: SOFT PAPA RATIO x2. mentions of an apocalyptic world.

w.c: 1.6k

The second time Kagome comes by his office to drop off Ena, Dr. Ratio reassures himself he’s a lot more prepared compared to the first time. He’s even managed to methodically throw together a meal plan for the malnourished girl – borderline anorexic, really. While he’s certain that Kagome has been doing her best to get her to eat, he’s confident he’s more well-suited for the job than she is. He’s a medical doctor for good reasons.

“Ena.” He turns to her in his chair, his eyes forcibly softening when he faces her – she’s sitting on the sofa again, kicking her legs back and forth.

She blankly stares at him for a long moment – he can hear the metaphorical clock ticking in his head, marking each second that goes by waiting for her to say something back.

“…Mr. Doctor.” She finally says, her voice hardly above a raspy whisper.

“Alright, good, you’re listening.” He nods, “Do you remember what you had for breakfast?” He follows up – he’s well-aware that she’s at high risk for memory loss, especially short term.

“Uhm…” She stares down at her hands, which are tucked into tight balls on her lap, “I…”

“It’s alright if you do not remember, Ena. I am not intending to pressure you.” He reassures.

“Uhm… Kagome said it was toast and…egg…?” She tilts her head while she lifts her head to stare at him.

(Kagome? She doesn’t call her Mother or anything? How peculiar… I suppose it takes time for any previously abandoned child to grow comfortable calling someone their parent…) He ponders, eyes drifting away as he taps a pen to his lips, “Do you remember how much you ate?” He asks next.

“This much…?” She lifts up a shaky hand and uses two fingers to show him a rough estimate of how much she ate.

(…Not helpful, Ena.) He sighs inwardly, but keeps his thought to himself to assure her comfort, “Good. A little bit is better than nothing.”

Not too long later, the doctor needs to be a professor for a while, so he brings Ena along as he did last time. And thankfully, while they walk there, she doesn’t wander off like before. However, he can nearly feel her trembling from behind him when they arrive at the familiar doors.

“Ena,” Dr. Ratio turns toward the little girl and crouches down to her height, “I have spoken to my students since the last time you were here. They are now well-aware of the consequences they’ll face should they make any negative remarks or rumors about you.” He assures with his typically curt tone.

He’s thankful that so far she hasn’t ever shown signs of hating how he speaks or how he holds himself. She seemingly only hates it when he stands a little bit too close to her – she needs a lot of physical space. He doesn’t mind keeping his distance – he doesn’t like it when people get too cozy in his personal space, either.

“Okay, Mr. Doctor…” Ena looks down at the ground for a longer time than when she was staring at him.

When he straightens his legs and back, promptly turning to the door to pry it open, he hears a lengthy yawn escape her. He glances over his shoulder and down at her, seeing her rub at her teary eyes.

“…Have you been sleeping enough, Ena?” He inquires, his hand drifting away from the door as he turns toward her.

“Uhm…” She mumbles in confusion before yawning again.

“…I’ll take that as a no.” He shakes his head, “Come, you can sit at my desk and rest some there.” He turns away again.

“B-But…” She sputters, “What if… What if…”

“What if…?” He mentally sighs as he turns to her again, “If you are concerned about being hurt, I assure you that no harm will come to you while you are under my care.”

“Oh…” She sighs, arms flopping to her sides, “What about you…?” She glances at him for a fleeting moment, but then quickly decides to stare at his sandals instead.

“I will also be fine – no worries.” He reassures, “Ready to go in?” His hand grabs the door handle again.

“Mhm…” She nods.

And with that tiny affirmative squeak, he strides into the lecture hall with her behind him – with her dragging her sleepy body up to his desk.

About a mere 10 minutes into the lecture, Ena slips under the large teacher’s desk and curls up in the empty space – soon falling asleep with her arms folded under her head. Much to her pleasure, no one can see her here. The front of the desk has no gaps or transparent panels, allowing her to peacefully rest in the relative darkness. The floor could kill to be comfier, but it’s nothing she’s not used to.

Dr. Ratio notices halfway through the class that she’s disappeared again—

“…Ena?” He blinks, sighing and looking around the large room to see any signs of her, “Did anyone see where she went?” He asks, his voice somehow even more bitter than it usually is.

“She went under your desk.” One student answers.

He sighs in relief when he checks underneath the desk out for himself, easily spotting her curled up and fast asleep. Walking back to the board and picking up his chalk from its sill, he announces with a remarkably softer voice,

“She’s asleep right now, so stay quiet.” His eyes narrow into dangerous slits, and the students obey, much to his joy.

Ena has been asleep most of the day, the doctor thinks while he stares at her resting on the sofa in his office. Class ended a while ago and she still wouldn’t wake up, so he carried her back here – sure, carrying around a child earned him a few weird looks, but he’s not concerned with that right now.

He’s already attempted a couple of times to wake her up to eat her late lunch, but her only response was to hide her face further into the sofa’s throw pillow. He ultimately gave in, figuring that she needed sleep more than food for now. After that, he finds himself scrolling through his emails on his phone – one fist propping up his head while the elbow rests on the desk.

He doesn’t have any appointments today, surprisingly enough. And no one has come in with any emergencies. He thanks the high heavens for one calm day out of many frustrating ones. So when he hears two gentle taps to the door, he jolts in his seat a little – not that anyone saw that or needs to.

He stands up and opens the door, “Oh, Kagome.” He blinks, “Here to pick up Ena, I presume.” He notes in a whisper.

“Yes, that’d be correct.” Kagome nods, and he slides to the side so she can enter the office. She sighs and strides up to where Ena rests, staring down at her for a long moment. “Did she have any troubles today?” She pivots toward him right after he shuts the door and sits down at his desk again.

“None so far. She’s been asleep most of the day. However, she hasn’t had lunch as she refuses to wake up.” He informs.

“Ah… She’s still adjusting to living at home with me.” She sighs, “I’m still…sorting everything out.”

“I can tell,” He shrugs, “…Does Shoto live with you both?”

“No. He lives abroad in Tetra most of the time.” She shakes her head, “I wish I could find a more comfortable place for her, though. I know that she doesn’t like Tetra. Not with the way it is right now…and it’s not like she knows what it was like before…” She trails off as she glances down at her young daughter.

“…?” He patiently waits with one eyebrow raised.

“…Before the apocalypse.” She grumbles, “It’s been…maybe nearly twenty or thirty years at this point – seems like it’s not going away any time soon, either.”

“An apocalypse…” He echoes, “So, that’s why you’re so evasive.”

“Yes.” She nods, locking eyes with him again, “It’s gotten far too close to becoming world-ending rather than just world-changing, but humans are…stubborn.” She huffs, “Humans will walk through hell with a smile on their face, I suppose.”

Observing her – he finally notices how her shoulders slump and her eyes are nearly closed. He taps his fingers along his desk before interrupting whatever train of thought she was having,

“You’re dismissed – you two should get plenty of rest before tomorrow.” He rises to his full height, back straightened as he walks over to her with a file of various papers, “Do not overwork yourself more than you have to. Also,” He hands her the file, “I made this meal plan for Ena. It should help her grow more comfortable with eating over time.” He nods.

“You…” She puts a hand to her head as she stares down at the papers in her other hand, “You did that for her?” She laughs weakly, “Thank you very much, Doctor.” She smiles at him, “You are quite sweet when you want to be.”

“I—” He blushes lightly before scoffing and waving her off, “I was not doing it to be sweet, Kagome.” He grumbles, “…But keep her going – growing up in an apocalyptic world is no easy feat, after all. She deserves to recover and flourish as any other child does.”

She smiles, watching how his stare drifts to Ena’s resting body and how those same dual-toned eyes soften a little bit.

“And I agree. No child deserves to go through it… Thank you again, Doctor.” She exhales softly.

“…No problem. She’s…a good kid.”

#mine #oc #original character #fic: solitary solidarity #honkai star rail #hsr #hsr oc #honkai star rail oc #oc: kagome ikeda #oc: ena ikeda #hsr dr ratio #dr ratio #ship: kagtio

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purplekoop · 7 months

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Been a few days and yeah, I definitely gotta say I'm loving the Roadhog rework. I genuinely forgot how much I love the absolute menace of the character, he was my second most played character in OW1 (between Reinhardt and Ana) and I only stopped playing him because of the stigma of picking such a selfish tank in 5v5. I played him the night before the rework went live, and already started having a good time, I think even getting one last lucky right click one-shot. Then when the rework went live, I started having an even better time, because he just feels so much less like a one-dimensional gimmick.

I've always felt like Roadhog was fun because a lot of his "micro tech", where his game plan is simple in theory but has a lot to optimize if you want to get the most value you can out of him. Cancel the endlag of his reload animation with Breather to minimize your downtime, pre-fire a shot onto your target before the hook to increase the reliability of the finishing combo, and even just use turn hooks to increase how much you can disorient an enemy and put them into an even worse position. All that tech is retained (save for the silly ranged one-shot), but instead of just relying on the lethal combo gimmick, he's SO much more flexible. His reworked gun lets him lets him get off pot shots from a distance in a similar way to Queen, where the mid-range damage isn't crazy but can definitely confirm some sloppy kills with decent aim. The meter-based Breather lets you be so much more flexible in the damage you take, and van even act as a sort of meter-based Block ability, where you deliberately use it just to shrug off anticipated big hits, ranging from stuff like Echo sticky bombs to even Junkrat tires and D.va bombs at point-blank range, while still not wasting all of your healing resource. Plus, the way that it can't be totally shut down by sleeps and stuns makes the most brutal moments using it feel a lot less dreadful. There's even older changes I haven't played much with, like his gigabuffed ultimate (2 seconds increase in duration plus the ability to use other abilities during it) having so much more combo potential while being much harder to shut down, and his shorter hook cooldown in exchange for the target being slightly farther away after hooking them (which in some cases is an accidental buff, I've gotten some nasty environmental kills I don't think I would've with the old hook range.

All this increase in creativity and flexibility goes along perfectly with his new ability: the oft-misunderstood Pig Pen. I like to call it the taser burger though, because that's what it looks like. People were confused with this ability at first as a confusing new addition to his kit, and while it's not the most impactful ability, it's so fun being creative with how you use it. It's area denial. It's a combo tool. It's a way to make a 100 HP toll before enemies can walk into a tight doorway without feeling the wrath of the Taser Burger. You can set up lethal kill combos just as reliable as the classics, but at the cost of needing to commit two cooldowns instead of just one. And overall it just increases the amount of stuff Roadhog does at a time, where he can zone out one area with the burger while also applying pressure by just Being Roadhog.

He can heal more, he can hook more, he can deal meaningful damage more, he can control more space, and he can get more out of his ult. He just feels like so much more of a character overall, without just feeling like a blatant ball of oppressive stats. You gotta play and not get outplayed to get work out of the big pig man, and it feels super satisfying to do so. You can't autopilot on Roadhog, but you can't autopilot on any Tank in OW2, not even Orisa, but he requires a different flavor of brain juice to get use out of his skills.

I think a lot of people are disappointed that he didn't get more direct team utility, which is something newer greedy bully tanks like Queen and Mauga have even just an ounce of with their shouts. But like... he's Roadhog. He's always been the ultimate greedy bastard pick, with the most gracious thing he's done for his team is heal himself. I think Pig Pen actually alleviates both his competition with the other bully tanks by giving him a more "area pressure" focus rather than going on the offensive with raw beefy aggro, and also gives him a way to support his team indirectly via his new area denial. Being able to place a trap near a squishy immobile support backline like Ana or Zenyatta is a legit way to dissuade against flankers diving onto them, and in general playing Roadhog like a bouncer is a great way to play into aggressive matchups. Overall this rework really solidifies Roadhog's gameplay personality in a way that I don't think other potential changes like an AOE heal would've. Plus, the pun is great in addition to this clearly being Roadhog's early christmas gift from Junkrat. That just feels nice. What doesn't feel nice is getting hooked into a double trap that does an instant 160 damage and does more over time to be lethal even without followup damage from the two bastards that arranged this fate, both of which are burst damage specialists that can shred through tanks who'd normally be fine taking that damage, but that's such a funny combo and I've never been subject to it so it's fine when it happens to someone else.

I think my only problem with playing Hog now is that Anti-Nade is still such a stupid counter. I think now more than ever that the brand new tank and the newly reworked tank both rely on self-healing for sustain, and don't have ways to deny debuffs themselves, it's pretty clear that total heal blocking is just not fair against Tanks as it is now. It doesn't even feel fair to the tanks who don't self heal and can block the initial nade, since it just totally eliminates your ability to eat damage that your supports could potentially save you from. this was fine in OW1 and even made it a rational ability to give supports aggro power against tanks, since if you anti one tank then the other can peel for them, but we don't have that now so it's up to supports to peel with healing instead. Or Life Grip. Or Suzu. But like. That's two characters. Maybe Immortality Field too but that one still has weaknesses against Anti, like if the timing is unlucky then your death is still inevitable. And also all of those save abilities have cooldowns longer than bio nade, so it's kind of a hard trade to make value out of. I think most people agree that the anti heal effect needs a direct nerf, not just to uptime or duration, like cutting the effect to a 50% heal reduction or making it so you can end the effect early by being healed by a certain amount. I like the creativity of the latter but I think the simpler nerf might be better here. I don't know if this should also apply to Rampage, but considering that's an ultimate then I think it should either get a compensation buff or retain its total healing denial.

So yeah, I think Roadhog's a plenty fine character now, and I'm happy to welcome him back into my tank rotation along with the more conventional tanks like Rein, Orisa, and Ramattra. I don't think he'll be dominant but I think that's for the best, Roadhog's the most fun to play as and against if he has to put some elbow grease into getting stuff done, which I think is the balance that's been struck now. He still feels absolutely mean to stomp with, but there's still a lot that can deal with him if he plays recklessly. Even with his counters he can often scrounge out a win. Reaper wins a direct 1v1 where he can get in close early, but if you get a full ranged shot+hook into burger+point blank shot+melee combo, or just go ham (ha) in the honest close-range duel, then you still get a win out of the matchup. Roadhog feels like a character with a lot of skill expression, which has felt true to some extent for a while but has been exemplified now more than ever while also giving him well-rounded tools to feel solid in most matchups. Just. yeah nerf antiheal, just to give Roadhog, Queen, and Mauga (and the rest of the role honestly) an early christmas gift.

#overwatch #overwatch 2 #roadhog

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