#YOU CAN USE HIM AS A POOL NOODLE | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

newttxt · 2 months

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chicken fight pool scene my beloved…

utilities included, chapter 3 (as always, mind the tags and rating)

(readmore for full alt text)

a 6 page one piece fancomic.

page 1.

panel 1: an opening shot of usopp, vivi, nami, zoro, helmeppo, and koby in a resort pool. sanji stands on the side, removing his shirt near the cubbies. nami asks, “that again? how many times do we have to beat you before you accept defeat?” zoro replies, “you didn’t beat ME. you beat usopp. if he would let me be on top for once—“

panel 2: usopp stops leaning on the pool edge and interjects, “are you kidding me! do you have any idea how heavy you are? i’d break something—“ zoro, crossing his arms, interrupts him, “better a few broken bones than losing again.”

panel 3: vivi says, “sounds like someone’s missing his boot.” nami high-fives her for cutting zoro down to size.

panel 4: sanji places his cigarettes and lighter into a cubby for safekeeping. offscreen koby says, “everyone knows the base decides who wins.”

page 2.

panel 1: sanji quietly turns from the cubby

panel 2: sanji’s legs are in the foreground as he walks toward the pool, where the others are floating near the edge. koby continues, “you can’t lose if you have good balance and a good grip.” zoro says, “easy to say when you’ve never had to hold usopp.”

panel 3: sanji slips into the pool, content to listen to the banter. zoro continues his rant, saying, “all nami has to do is look at him, and he starts flopping around like a fish out of water.”

panel 4: usopp and nami yell, “HEY!” usopp says, “that’s called DEFENSIVE MANEUVERING, thank you very much!” while nami shouts, “you make it sound like i didn’t work hard for those wins!” they furiously splash zoro, who holds up his arms to protect himself.

page 3. a double-page spread. a short time later, the actual pool chicken fighting begins. there is a small panel of usopp toppling backward off the shoulders of an irritated zoro, his upper body hidden in a violent splash.

in another panel, helmeppo sits astride koby’s shoulders with a pool noodle as a weapon. unfortunately, poor koby’s head is submerged below the water, as the bubbling from his mouth and his raised hands indicate his struggle.

the main image, spanning across the full page, features a confident vivi holding a pool noodle and sitting on the shoulders of a wildly grinning zoro. her opponent is an equally prepared nami, who is holding her own noodle and sitting on sanji’s shoulders. he is glancing up and back at her, besotted, and his eyebrow has formed a heart.

there is another small panel showing sanji’s heart eye and wobbly mouth at his chance to team up with nami.

two more panels show vivi and nami smacking each other with the pool noodles before they wear themselves out and pant and wheeze with exhaustion.

in the final small panel, koby and usopp declare, “TIE!”

page 4.

panel 1: zoro furiously slaps the water’s surface with his fists, shouting, “luffy’s gonna kick your ass for that when he gets back! we don’t DO ties!” in the background, helmeppo watches blankly and koby raises his hands placatingly. nami’s unamused face is half-submerged as she bubbles a complaint, “my arms feel like noodles.” vivi drifts limply next to her and adds, “i think he’d let us off the hook this time.”

panel 2: zoro tetchily says, “yeah right.” and offscreen, vivi replies, “spoilsport!” zoro starts wading to the edge of the pool, running a wet hand through his hair and clearly sulking.

panel 3: a close up of zoro’s hand in his hair, indicating what sanji is looking at. offscreen, the others continue talking, though the rest of the dialogue on the page takes place offscreen. the speech bubbles gets fainter and fainter as sanji stops paying attention to the conversation. helmeppo asks, “when IS luffy coming back? he’s been away longer than usual this time.” nami says, “you can thank his brothers for that.”

panel 4: zoro hefts himself out of the pool, his muscles are flexing with the motion and he’s dripping pool water. offscreen, nami continues, “last i heard, they booked some crazy cruise up north. he was really excited about it.”

panel 5: offscreen, koby says, “it’s great that you were able to take over his lease, sanji. zoro’s really lucky he found you!” sanji is not listening. he is clinging pathetically to the pool edge, his visible eye wide. his face and the ground are cast in shadow as zoro presumably stalks by.

page 5.

panel 1: nami’s speech is still faded out as she says, “lucky I found him. but that’s true.” the back of sanji’s head is in the foreground as he watches zoro climb into the hot-tub.

panel 2: nami continues, her speech fading back in as sanji hears HER saying his name, “you’ve been a real life-saver, sanji. zoro told me all about the meals you’ve been making for him, especially when he was on bed rest.” sanji turns quickly to look at her. he looks a little dazed as he mentally catches up with the conversation.

panel 3: a close up of sanji, damp with either pool water or nervous sweat. he says, “it’s nothing. i was cooking for myself anyway. it’s never a problem to add a little something extra for someone else.”

panel 4: usopp jokes, “‘a little,’ he says. like we don’t know what a zoro-sized portion looks like.” he is reclined with one arm resting on the pool edge. the artist is very pleased with the “boyfriend of the people” way they drew him here. beside him, koby listens with a placid smile. there is water on the glasses he is still wearing in the pool. helmeppo also stands there quietly, looking peeved about sanji’s good looks and generous spirit. vivi, who is floating with her arms crossed on a pool noodle, adds to sanji, “you don’t have to be so humble.”

page 6.

panel 1: vivi has a sincere smile as she says, “you did a really nice thing for him. you’re a good friend.”

panel 2: sanji is shocked. stunned. he’s even blushing a bit. vivi’s word-choice of “friend” echoes behind him, and in his mind, he questions, “friend?” the interpretation is left up to the viewer, but the true meaning has to do with sanji’s genuine surprise at being included fully into this friend group, despite just being zoro’s roommate.

#one piece #sanji #zoro #zosan #usopp #nami #vivi #koby #helmeppo #would u believe it… i whipped this thing up in three days.#im very happy with it tho. ive never rly tackled doing this large of a cast? especially over multiple pages #zosans fun and all but tragically im only looking at that last usopp i drew… i love him #OH ALSO. HAPPY BIRTHDAY SANJI #utilities included

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teatreeoilll · 1 month

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2006

“No - No - Don’t put it in your bag. Gojo - Seriously, stop.”

“Well we need to put it somewhere, don’t we?”

“Alright. Alright - Let me hold it. We just need to think of something smart - ow! Little bastard. If you bite me again I’ll leave you here.” At the edge of the street stands the rubble of the house Gojo destroyed half an hour ago - together with the curse in it. The other houses surrounding you look run-down and uninhibited, blending with the rain clouds on the horizon. “I don’t really mean it,” You whisper.

Gojo leans forward and rubs the head of the tiny gray kitten you’re holding. The kitten hisses back at him. “I don’t think he likes us.”

“What makes you think he’s a he - ow! Maybe it’s a she,” You lift the kitten up, but it only digs its tiny claws further into your hand. “Alright, I won’t check -” You bring it closer to your chest, rubbing it on the head to calm it down, and look back up at Gojo, “But we need to figure out what to do with it.”

“Shoko can take care of its leg.” Gojo points to a nasty wound on the kitten, “And then we’ll just put it in your room.”

“My room? Why not your room?”

“Aw, come on. It’s just for a little while - look, it’s already purring. I bet it thinks you’re his mom.”

“Yaga will kill us.”

Gojo’s lips curl up in a familiar smirk, “Only if he finds out.”

“Fine. But you’re buying the cat food.”

“Gojo -” You whisper into the dark hallway, “Gojo - Wake up!”

A few seconds go by and the door creaks open. Gojo’s still halfway into putting on his t-shirt, “What is it?” You stare a moment too long at his abs, “If that’s what you came for I’ll take it off -”

“Don’t be dumb, you oversized noodle. Something’s wrong with the kitten.”

Inside your room, Shoko and Geto are kneeling on the floor over the kitten. All your hear are quiet retching sounds and worried whispers.

“He keeps coughing up like that. Do you think he’s sick?” You ask as you and Gojo kneel with the others, looking at the little kitten shaking its head, “Maybe we need to take him to a vet.”

The kitten wobbles a bit when it moves towards Gojo. “Come here little one,” Gojo whispers as if no one can hear him, “What’s wrong with you? Huh?” He runs a finger between the kitten’s ears. It climbs onto his knees, then wretches again, unleashing a surprisingly big and slimy hairball on Gojo’s lap.

“Oh - God - That’s -” Gojo takes the kitten off his knees. He swears it’s smirking at him. The room is silent for a moment before you let out a snort, and everyone but Gojo howls with laughter. “Quit laughing! D’you have a wet wipe or something?”

“I -” You huff out laughing, wiping the tears pooling in your eyes, “I thought it was sick -”

Geto’s cheeks are bright red and he’s folded almost in half as he sucks sharp breaths through bouts of laughter, “Good thing you called Satoru, poor thing just needed something to look at to get him to vomit -”

“Seriously! Stop laughing and get me towel or something -”

In the doorway, Masamichi Yaga clears his throat.

“I’m not saying get rid of it.” The little kitten strolls on papers on Yaga’s desk. Rain hammers on the window glass. “Just put it back where it came from.”

“How can we put it back where it came from?” You retort, “It’s tiny! It’ll freeze, or it’ll starve or -”

The kitten looks up, its green eyes pointed straight at Yaga’s stern expression. Yaga sighs.

“Come on, Yaga -” Gojo bats his white eyelashes as if he’s the one about to get kicked out in the rain. Yaga sighs again.

“You can’t keep it in your room anymore,” Yaga says as he takes the kitten from the desk and places it on his lap, “But we’ll figure something out. Now get to bed, all of you.”

2017

“Mochi!” Gojo ducks down to pet the cat as he exits the building. It hisses back at him. “You’re getting old now, you little monster. You better start making amends soon.”

“Earl still doesn’t like you, huh?” You chuckle, coming out from the building after him.

“I don’t know how he likes you after you named him Earl.” Gojo looks down at the cat, who left him to rub on your feet. “Bootlicker,” he mutters under his breath.

“Don’t be jealous, Satoru,” Shoko’s smoking a cigarette by the entrance, “Winston can sense it.”

“Don’t even let me get started about naming a cat after a pack of cigarettes -”

“Oh and Mochi’s better?” You chuckle, petting Earl on the head, “Even though nothing beats Yaga who just calls him “Cat” or Suguru’s ‘Bruce Lee’ -”

Suguru. There’s a silence.

Earl meows. “Aw - Earl, you want a treat?” You reach into your pocket, “Lucky for you I came prepared.”

Gojo chuckles, “If I meow, will you -”

“Definitely not, Satoru.”

“Are you sure?” Gojo drawls, leaning forward for his face to be an inch from yours, “Because I’ll meow if I have to.”

You roll your eyes and press a chaste kiss on his lips, “Please don’t meow.”

#lil drabble #gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x reader fluff #gojou satoru x reader #gojou satoru x you #gojou satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x reader fluff

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upsidedownwithsteve · 9 months

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Simmer #5

CH5. Wake 'n' Bake | The Menu [4.9K] Eddie Munson x shy fem!reader: a line cook au.

“Well, you don’t know what we can find. Why don’t you come with me, little girl? On a magic carpet ride.”

The diner was quiet and the radio was louder than usual, lilting through the kitchen and between the empty tables. It was a too hot Sunday, with most of the usual clientele swapping leather booths for loungers by the community pool. Only Mr Creel sat in his usual stool by the bar, parked perfectly underneath the TV screen that was playing the same old western movie that came on every day at three o’clock. Jonathan was manning the counter, pouring the old man refills when he grumbled, whistling as he went.

Everyone else had either gone home earlier or was preparing for the night shift that started at eight that evening. The diner was too hot, the old AC barely keeping up, blowing out a whisper of cool air that you and Jonathan had taken turns standing under, watching the glass door for any signs of life out on the street.

None came.

So you’d long taken off your apron and after some internal arguing with yourself, you had plucked up the courage to push the doors to the kitchen open. There wasn’t much happening there either. Eddie was the only chef in, clock watching until there was a customer to feed or for when Argyle would arrive to take over the next shift.

And now? Well, now you think you were just annoying him. But he was allowing it, and that was something.

“And what’s that?” You asked for the fourth time.

You were hunkered down on the stool you’d dragged over to Eddie’s station, elbows on the stainless steel and your cheeks squished between your hands as you watched the boy work. He’d told you and Jonathan he’d made some lunch, and after some back and forth (Eddie argued enough until Jonathan gave in), Eddie was making some ramen.

“It’s gochujang,” Eddie mumbled back. He was too busy concentrating as he tapped a teaspoon of the red paste into the pot on the stove. He was more relaxed than you’d seen him, with no big orders to cook, he’d been humming along to the radio, his curls knotted on the top of his head to keep himself cool. He’d merely smiled when you plopped yourself down at his table. “And if you ask me what something is again, m’gonna put you in this pot too.”

You didn’t take offence, not anymore. You scrunched your face at him. “Mean,” you said. “When’s it ready? It smells real good.”

“Soon. And I’m not mean,” he grumbled back, tossing some ramen noodles into the pot that had been ready to overspill with bubbles. “You’re annoying.”

You gasped, all faux dramatics. “And he’s rude too,” you told no one. You grinned when Eddie rolled his eyes and shook his head, but when he bent over to chop up some spring onion at a scarily fast speed, you saw him smile. “Can I do anything?”

“You could get us some drinks,” Eddie suggested and he peered out of the hatch at the empty tables. Mr Creel glared back. “Seeing as you know, you’re not doing anything. At all.”

You huffed but there was a laugh under it that Eddie was beginning to recognise. He raised his brows at you as you let your sneakers slap onto the floor, hands pushed to the worktop as if getting up was an awfully exhausting thing. “I suppose I could manage that,” you told him wistfully. “If you’ll cope without my help for five minutes.”

Eddie snorted, stirring a delicious smelling broth he had simmering in another pot. He levelled you with a stare that a month ago, would’ve made your stomach churn with nerves. “I’ll try,” he played along. “I’ll tell Jim it was your fault if the kitchen burns down though.”

“Snitch. Coke?” You asked him as you made your way to the door.

“Just the one line, sweetheart, I’m driving,” Eddie smirked back.

He had an adorable habit of letting his head tilt to the side when he joked with you, as rare as it sometimes could still be. Dimples in both cheeks, stray curls over those big eyes, thick lashes that he liked to bat at you when he thought he was being real funny. It was becoming a problem.

“You’re hilarious,” you told him flatly from the other side of the hatch, shooting some soda from the gun into a glass for him. “Jonathan, coke?” You called to the other boy from across the diner, holding up an empty glass for him too.

“Shhh!” Mr Creel hissed at you, teeth bared, brows furrowed and you grimaced back, a smile that wasn’t customer service worthy but you’d long learnt to stay away from him.

“God, stop annoying the customers,” Eddie told you when you came back in holding two pints of coke, he was grinning as he ladled your lunch into a big blue bowl, letting his eyes settle on you as you passed him his drink.

“Don’t tell Jim,” you joked, but the humour in your voice fell flat as you watched Eddie bring the glass to his lips and gulp the fizz down.

His neck bobbed as he swallowed, chin tilting up and back as he led his eyes flutter close and you could help but stare at the line of his jaw, the up and down of his Adam’s apple, the push of his lips against the cup. Your mouth felt dry, your head a little empty and when he opened his eyes and put the empty glass down, you were still staring.

“What?” Eddie was staring back.

You shook your head, words unable to form. You stuttered and stammered and shrugged your shoulders, gripping tightly to your own glass. “Nothing,” you finally managed. “What?”

“What?” Eddie squinted at you.

“What?” You asked again, before you could help yourself and you realised too late that you’d asked him a question there wasn’t even an answer to. “Shit.”

The corner of the boy’s mouth lifted and he looked at you, amused, if not a little concerned. “Okay,” he drawled, sliding your lunch over to you. “Here, eat. Lack of good food must be makin’ you loopy or somethin’, christ.”

So you ate in silence, sitting across from Eddie and exchanging shy smiles as he watched you hum at each flavour, nodding at Jonathan when he slapped him on the back in thanks, taking his own bowl outside so he could smoke at the same time. It was a new kind of friendship that still made you nervous, too aware when Eddie looked at you - like, really looked at you. Eyes earnerst, watching, gauging what you liked and what you didn’t. He knew that a scrunch of your nose meant you were unsure, a little taptaptap of your feet on the stool meant you loved it.

He still made you shy, even though you spoke more. Stomach dipping and somersaulting when he called your name out of the hatch, some kind of plate made up for you, grouching good naturedly about how you needed to stop skipping meals. It made your heart jolt when he got too close, when fingers brushed as he passed you a bowl of fruit, a sandwich you could inhale between serving tables.

But then again, maybe that wasn’t nerves. Maybe that was just the crush you were telling yourself you didn’t have.

It was becoming harder to lie.

“Good?” Eddie asked like always, letting his foot kick gently against yours. He’d finished his own bowl and was watching you with a fond look on his face as you wrestled with the last few noodles.

You nodded and hummed happily, “mhmm. Could’ve done with some more salt though.”

Eddie did a double take, lips parted to argue because he knew that broth was damn perfect, before he realised you were joking. He narrowed his eyes at your grin, tried to hide his own smile when you laughed.

“Oh, she’s actin’ real cute today, huh?” He snarked but everything about him told you he thought you were hilarious. He took your empty bowl from you, poked at your shoulder with a chopstick. “The self proclaimed crybaby s’gettin’ bold.”

It was a meaner type of teasing that you’d grown used to, but still, you wrinkled your nose at the boy as your cheeks burned, head ducking down at the memories of your teary eyed encounters with certain customers. You heard Eddie laugh as he dumped the bowls in the sink, but it wasn’t a cruel sound at all. And when you lifted your chin back up from your chest, he was back on the other side of the work station, elbows on the stainless steel and leaning over to you. Close. Closer than before.

You blinked and Eddie smiled, a lazy, knowing thing, his eyes darting over your face like he was able to read you. Maybe he could. “There she is,” he murmured softly. “Shy thing.”

“Oh my god,” you tried to joke weakly, your voice a soft, embarrassed drawl. “Stop.”

It made Eddie laugh, a wide grin pushing at his cheeks until the dimples you rarely got to see appeared. You wanted to push a finger to one, to see if the tip of it would fit perfectly into the dip. You sat on your hands instead.

“What?” The boy asked. “She’s got no jokes now?” But he smiled a little softer and went back to preparing the dough for tomorrow’s rolls, not saying anything else when you leaned back over the counter to watch. If you’d looked up, taken your eyes off the way his big hands kneaded at the sticky mess, you’d have caught the boy watching you, still smiling. Awfully fond.

—————

“Hey,” you interrupted a while later, once Robin had arrived to take over you shift, once Argyle was throwing some burgers on the grill for the customers that had finally shown up. “What’re you doing tonight?”

Eddie looked a little startled as he closed over his locker, chef whites in a bundle in his bag, ready for washing. He blinked at you, pretty, pouted lips parted as he wondered where this conversation would lead. “Uhh, I- I dunno. Probably gonna go home, roll a joint and wait for another day in this shithole to start. Why?”

You wondered if Eddie could hear your heartbeat. ‘Cause it echoed in your ears, inside your head. A thud that made your mouth feel a little dry and suddenly the bravery you’d felt when asking that question melted away with the boy’s gaze on you. You weren’t sure what you’d planned to ask. Maybe if he knew of any good films to rent. Maybe if there was a nice park to explore. Maybe if he’d want to hang out—

“That sounds like a really good night,” you said instead, a nervous laugh following your words and Eddie’s brows shot up in surprise.

“You smoke?” He asked in disbelief.

You shrugged, leaning back against your locker as you tried not to sound completely uncool. “Kinda? Not really. I don’t like to smoke it but- but I’d sometimes, you know, bake some brownies or something. I haven’t done it in a while, but—” you wrinkled your nose. “—moving to a new city really makes you wanna just… get really fucking high.”

Eddie was laughing and nodding, beaming at you with a pink flush covering his cheeks. You watched him swallow hard and then gesture to the door. He almost couldn’t meet your eyes when he said, “d’you, uh, wanna come hang out? Smoke with me?”

It took Eddie a whole ten minutes to drive to his house. A trailer that was tucked into the back of the park you passed every day. You shot him a look when he parked up and he rolled his eyes, like he knew what you were about to say.

“You drove me all the way home that day, when you live, like, seconds away from—“

“Oh, shut up,” he told you, scrunching his face. “It was a fuckin’ tsunami that day. You weren’t walkin’ anywhere.” He nipped his fingers playfully at your knee as he bent over to snatch his rucksack from the footwell. When he sat back up, he was too close. You held your breath. “Besides, Wayne told me I had to, remember?”

It was your turn to roll your eyes then, shoving at his shoulder as he cackled. “God, you’re such a gentleman.”

He was still laughing as he jumped out the van, surprising you as he appeared at your door to open it as you busied yourself with gathering your bag and jacket. Eddie waved his hand in a dramatic gesture as you got out, eyeing him suspiciously.

“I’m gentlemanly enough to be sharing my weed with you, sweetheart, don’t put me down too much.”

It made you soften and you followed him to his front door, the trailer humming from a generator you couldn’t see. “Thank you,” you told him shyly. “For this. For the invite.” Somewhere in an ugly part of your head, was an even uglier voice that was telling you you’d made him feel bad enough that he had to invite you. That he felt sorry for you.

You told it to shut up.

But Eddie turned the key and looked back at you over his shoulder, his eyes soft. “S’alright. What’re friends for?”

You blinked, unable to help the smile that spread across your lips. Your cheeks ached with it. “We’re friends, huh?”

Eddie walked into the trailer and waited for you to follow. “I know,” he drawled dramatically. “I don’t know how it happened either.” He was grinning, an awfully pretty thing.

You didn’t know what to say, or do, for that matter. This felt close to flirting, something that made that horrible crush you had rear up in interest, it’s heart pounding. But maybe that was just your own.

“Here,” Eddie gestured to a small dining booth, a c-shaped bench around a little table. He cleared a pile of laundry from it and looked flustered as he decided where to put it. It got thrown onto an armchair in the corner. “Sit down, you want a drink?”

That’s where you sat with a can of soda, watching with a stuck laugh in your throat as Eddie upended his tiny kitchen, looking for the bag of flour he insisted he had. “I swear, it’s in here,” he told you, holding various jars of spices and cake moulds. “What the fuck?”

“You’re supposed to be a chef, Eddie.”

“I know,” the boy wailed mournfully, swearing when he dropped a whole tub of dried fruit, chocolate sprinkles and vanilla pods. “Shit, kid. Looks like you’re gonna have to be a big girl and smoke up.”

He turned, raising his eyebrows at you like a challenge. You huffed, tipping your head back so he wouldn’t see the panic in your eyes. “Fine.”

And that’s how you ended up in Eddie’s bedroom, a space filled mostly with his double bed, a glaringly personal thing that you felt like you couldn't even look at. But he blushed and spread back the unmade sheets, fluffing up his pillows before he told you to make yourself at home. So you perched on the edge and toed your sneakers off, watching as Eddie flitted around his room, kicking things under the bed as he went, pushing cook books and comics back onto his shelves. Then he plopped himself down beside you, knees almost knocking, an old tin lunch-box on his lap. He flipped the lid and grinned as he produced an already rolled joint, wagging it in front of your face.

“A chef is always prepped,” he whispered conspiratorially.

“You’re a dork,” you whispered back but you leaned into his pillows as he brought it to his lips.

A lighter flickered, a flame lighting up his face in amber just for a second or two, and then he was blowing a cloud out towards his open window. You watched Eddie’s eyes shutter closed, pretty lashes fanning over his cheeks and his lips hung open for a second or two, letting out a sigh along with blue-grey smoke. He let his shoulders drop, his head roll. Melting, like butter in the heatwave.

Then, “here, have at it, sweetheart.” Eddie handed you the joint, careful that you didn’t burn yourself on the glowing ash. He watched you take it dubiously, eyeing it with caution as you prepared yourself to bring it to your lips. You cringed a little, inhaling too sharp, too quick, coughing it all back out before you could even inhale it properly.

You were mortified, coughing into your hand as you handed the joint back to Eddie blindly, eyes tearing up, blurring him and his room. He took it quick, making sympathetic noises as he rubbed his other hand down your spine. He waited until you wiped at your eyes, until you managed to catch your breath. “You alright?”

You wanted the ground to swallow you. “Mhmm,” you managed, keeping the heels of your palms pressed to your eyes, just so you wouldn’t have to look at him. “Sorry.”

“Nah,” Eddie said quietly, voice soft. “None of that, c’mon. You want another drink?”

You ignored him, reaching for the smoke instead, insistent on showing him you weren’t a complete loser. But Eddie tsked and held it out of your reach, frowning at you with concern. You wanted to tell him you’d almost missed that stitch between his brows. “Hey, woah, slow down, yeah?” Eddie knocked a hand into your knee, a comforting touch that didn’t push either of your boundaries. Yet. “You sure you wanna smoke? I can run back to Jim’s, see if I can smuggle some flour and we can make brow—”

You shook your head emphatically, not wanting to be any sort of annoyance. “No, no, it’s fine. I can try again.”

You weren’t sure if it was the setting sun that was coming through Eddie’s window that was turning his face fuschia, or if he was suddenly blushing something furious. It took him a second or two to meet your gaze and when he did, you saw a shyness there you’d never really seen before. Eddie was blushing.

“I could, uh,” the boy cleared his throat noisily, awkward and fumbling. He gestured to the joint he still held, to you, to himself. “I could, I could help. I could help you. You know?” He frowned at himself, annoyed at his own stuttering.

You frowned too, confused. “No?” You replied, unsure. Your hands were fisted in his sheets, a nervous reaction.

“Shotgun. I could, well— I could shotgun you.”

“Oh.”

The room suddenly felt infinitely smaller. Warm and intimate, soft with the last of the sunlight, dust motes floating in the rays that came through slats of the blinds. You were on Eddie Munson’s bed. With Eddie Munson. You sucked in a breath. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Eddie seemed as surprised as you were at your answer but you nodded firmly, keeping your gaze on his, your chin lifted in a boldness you so rarely felt. So Eddie nodded too. “Right. Um, yeah. Just— c’mere.”

It was a clumsy thing, the way you both shuffled closer, the mattress dipping, sheets rippling. You moved until your knees knocked against Eddie’s and he was watching you so carefully, cautious enough that you felt too shy, a burning in your chest that spread up across your neck, your face. Eddie was holding the joint out to the side, the smoke being drawn to the open window and you looked back and forth between the cigarette and the boy.

“Done this before?” Eddie asked you quietly.

It was suddenly silent in the trailer, in the whole park. Fuck, Hawkins had fallen asleep, you were sure of it, because looking at Eddie this close, you couldn’t hear the way the generators hummed, you couldn’t hear the crickets or cicadas, no car engines or muffled televisions. You could hear Eddie breathe though, normal enough before it hitched a little and he had to exhale that little bit heavier - like he was nervous too.

You shook your head and swiped your tongue over your bottom lip, chasing the taste of the orange soda you’d drank at the kitchen table. “No, never like this. I— I know what to do though.” You sounded so naïve, small and a little silly, but Eddie smiled and nodded encouragingly.

“Atta’ girl,” he murmured and then he was bringing the joint back to his lips. He spoke around it, muffled. “Ready, yeah?”

You watched the way his cheeks hollowed out, how his gaze got a little heavier even though he kept looking at you. And this time, instead of blowing the smoke out to the window, he leaned in, one hand holding the joint away from you both, the other gesturing for you to come closer. You obeyed, moving forward with your heart lodged in your throat. You moved until Eddie’s fingertips met your jaw, skimming over the skin there and he tapped gently with his thumb.

His gaze was lowered, lashes fanning out over his cheeks as he leaned in closer still, eyes searching yours for some kind of hesitation, a sign that you’d maybe changed your mind. And when he found none, he coaxed you a little further until his nose bumped yours and you gasped, lips parted and waiting. The boy opened his mouth, just barely, smoke slipping from between his lips and he gently blew it into yours. You didn’t realise how his hand had fallen to your neck, fingers curling around the sides of it, the cool metal of his rings on your overheated skin and the blunt scratch of his nails in your hair.

You inhaled, a shuddering breath, shaky from how close the boy was - nothing to do with the weed. Eddie’s hand on your throat made you feel higher than anything else had before. And when there was no smoke left, when the last of it had floated up towards the ceiling and had turned into wisps in the sunlight, neither of you moved. You were still close enough that your nose bumped his when you tilted your head and you could see the freckles on the bridge of it, the tiny silver coloured scar at the end of his right brow. You wondered what Eddie could see when he looked at you, if he’d find your imperfections, if he’d find them as pretty as you did his.

You watched as his eyes looked into your own, unabashed and completely shameless, like another hit of the joint made him a bit more bold than before. Maybe it had, because you were feeling fuzzy, a warm, heavy feeling pulling you into the mattress, into Eddie.

Your forehead touched his.

His thumb was on your jaw, tucked into the space underneath your ear and it was pressed there like he meant it. Like he wanted you to feel it and god, you did. You did. His eyes wandered, flicking from yours to your lips and back again, warmer than ever, a honey colour in the setting sun. You wondered what you both must’ve looked like, sitting cross legged and knees knocking on Eddie’s unmade bed, heads bent together like you were sharing secrets, like you were going to share more.

The boy swallowed harshly, Adam’s apple bobbing and his stare on your mouth and it all made you feel so heavy and warm and lightheaded at once. You weren’t sure if it was the weed, you weren’t sure if it was Eddie.

“Your eyes are really pretty,” he whispered and he sucked in a breath when your idle hands found his bare knees through the rips in his jeans.

You played with the frayed hem, the loose threads and tried not to squirm at such a compliment. You hummed, nose wrinkling even when you smiled. “Thank you,” you replied politely and just as quiet. “Your eyes are pretty too.”

The boy turned pink, a pretty flush over the bridge of his nose that you wanted to trace with your fingertip. He tilted his head, inspecting you, eyes flicking over each of your features like he was drawing you in his head. “You shouldn’t be handing out compliments,” he mumured bashfully. “Not when I was such a dick to you.”

You shrugged, smiling as you leaned back just a little, too focused on the way Eddie’s lips moved as he spoke. The small space you put between you both gave you some air and Eddie’s hand dropped from your neck to trail down your arm. His fingers found your ring, a dainty thing on your middle finger that was so different to his own that it was comical and he played with the gold as you did with the rips in his denim.

Touching. Still touching.

“S’okay,” you told him gently. “You’ve made up for it now.”

A wry smile, a thumb brushing over the inside of your palm. “I have?”

“Oh, yeah. Free food and free weed?” You grinned when Eddie scoffed. “What more could a girl want?”

It was a rhetorical question. Eddie knew that, but still, he hummed as if he were thinking about it, his fingers dancing over your wrist now, climbing, climbing, climbing. You wished he’d cup your jaw again, warm, wide hands making you feel small and soft.

“I dunno,” he mused. “What about a d—”

Whatever Eddie was going to say was interrupted by the opening of the trailer door. A sharp noise in the quiet and it rattled off of the wall as Wayne barged his way in, arms full of pizza boxes and a giant bottle of soda. “Ed!” He yelled out in greeting, oblivious. “Grubs up, boy, come get.”

It made you spring apart, the mattress squeaking obnoxiously at the movement and you burned at the noise, at what it made it sound like you were up to. You stared wide eyed at Eddie, like a teenager caught doing something they shouldn’t and suddenly you wondered if Wayne would shout at you both for getting high.

But then Eddie was yelling back something noncommittal as he got off the bed, looking back down at you with an amused expression. He bent at the knees, shins hitting the mattress and his hands found your knees where he squeezed them reassuringly. “Hey, hey,” he smiled like he found you funny. Maybe he did. “S’all good, relax. Wayne doesn’t care.”

You sucked in a breath and willed away the weed induced panic you could feel brewing in your stomach, a knotting of nerves that Eddie managed to unravel with the way his fingers smoothed over your lower thighs. So you smiled back and nodded even though you felt like cardboard and when Eddie offered his hand to help you stand, you took it.

“Hey, Wayne,” Eddie called out into the living room. “We got a dinner guest, that alright?”

You could hear the rustle of pizza boxes being opened, the smell of basil and tomatoes wafting through the trailer. Your stomach rumbled and Eddie laughed, chuckling harder when you batted the back of your hand into his side for his lack of manners.

“You can’t just announce that!” You hissed. “That’s so rude.”

Eddie rolled his eyes and then held out his hand to the bedroom door as if to say ‘see?’ when Wayne grunted and said, “If it’s Steve, tell him I ain’t paying extra for those damn mozzarella sticks when there’s already cheese on the pi— oh, hey, kid.”

Wayne looked surprised to see you as you shuffled out of Eddie’s bedroom in your socks. The boy had his hand on the small of your back as he coaxed you forward into the main space of the trailer. “Hi,” you waved shyly, watching with a hot face as Wayne looked at you, at his nephew and back again, brows raised in interest. “Sorry I interrupted your dinner plans, I—”

“Nonsense,” Wayne said at the same time as Eddie scoffed, “shut up.”

“C’mon, now, sit and grab a plate,” the older man urged. “Hope you like Jeopardy! ‘‘cause that’s pizza night tradition.”

You smiled and nodded as Eddie slid into the breakfast nook beside you, hips nudging yours as you budged up. And as Wayne argued with the remote control, the boy loaded up your plate with pizza slices, ignoring your protests completely.

“God, you’re such a feeder,” you joked weakly, still embarrassed to be crashing the Munson pizza night.

Wayne was still frowning at the buttons when he grunted and laughed. “Yep, the boy doesn’t know how to give someone a damn hug, but he’ll make sure you never go hungry. Gotta show love one way or another, huh?”

Nobody said anything and Wayne won the battle as the channel flicked over and the voice of Alex Trebek filled the room. You couldn’t quite look at Eddie and both of you sat side by side as you ate your pizza, Eddie’s curls hiding his face from view. You wondered if he was pink again, blushing and cursing out his uncle in his head.

You wondered if you should’ve said something.

But then, as if to prove some kind of point, Eddie barely glanced at you as he picked up the last slice of pepperoni from the box, and slid it onto your plate.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson imagine #linecook!eddie

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incorrectbatfam · 4 months

Note

Can I ask for how the Goons meeting the Wayne's as civilians would go? Neither know each other's... extracurricular activities. Do they get along?

[Gotham University]

Professor: The average on the last test was 76 but since some where able to get 100, I will not be curving the grades.

Other student: Man, someone's always wrecking the curve.

Booker, who got 100: My bad.

Steph, who also got 100: Also my bad.

———————

[Discord voice chat]

Barbara: So Luke, Helena, and Bette weren't the imposters. That still leaves five of us. I'm gonna go back to the control room. Nobody better follow me.

Mac, the imposter: *follows her*

———————

Gene: Excuse me, do you know the directions to the nearest bioweapons storage?

Tim, scrolling through his phone: Down the road, take a left.

Gene: Thanks!

Tim: *pauses*

Tim: Hold on a second—

———————

[Gotham High School]

Teacher: For your next project—

Duke, rushing in after a fight: Sorry I'm late! I, uh, forgot my backpack.

Teacher: Just take a seat, Mr. Thomas. As I was saying—

Duke: *sits at an empty lab table*

Milo, walking in with a black eye and coffee: Morning, Miss K.

Teacher: Sit down, Mr. Carr. I'll talk to you after class. Now for the project...

Milo: Yo, this seat taken?

Duke: Be my guest.

Teacher: Here is the rubric and the person next to you will be your lab partner.

Duke, looking at Milo: Haven't I seen you somewhere?

Milo: I have one of those faces. Anyway, since we're lab partners, how do you feel about blowing stuff up?

Duke: I'm down.

———————

[on the side of the road]

Otto: Stupid piece of junk, always picking the wrong time to conk out on me.

Dick, pulling over: Need a hand?

Otto: You don't happen to have any jumper cables on you, do ya?

Dick: As a matter of fact, I do. It's a funny story, actually. It all started when I was a child. Back in my day...

———————

Molly: *leaves the bathroom*

Cass, tapping her shoulder: You forgot something.

Molly: Oh, right.

Molly: *picks up her drug stash*

———————

[at a bar]

Jason: Uh... would you quit staring at me. It's weird.

Kellin: You were ranked one of the Top Ten most attractive men this year according to the Gotham Gazette.

Jason: Yeah, I was.

Kellin: I don't see it.

———————

Harper: *dumpster diving for parts*

Blaise: *dumpster diving for things to burn*

Harper: *hands him a newspaper*

Blaise: *hands her a wrench*

———————

[at the pool]

Rob: So which one's yours?

Bruce: The one swinging the pool noodle. You?

Rob: The ones behind him with water balloons.

Bruce: I'm going to get another drink. Would you like one? It's on me.

Rob: Sure, why not?

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luveline · 2 years

Note

Can I request Eddie taking care of reader having a dissociation moment or having a withdrawal moment from everyone?

i used mind.org to find out about the symptoms of cw dissociation and though everyone experiences it differently, if there are any inauthenticities please let me know! ty for ur request ♡ gn!reader

Your friends are talking about the trip you went on together a few weeks ago. And you'd been there, you were there, but you can't remember what they're talking about.

"I thought she drowned," Robin says, giving Nancy a fond but rueful glance. "She was under water for, like, five whole minutes."

"That's gross exaggeration," Steve says.

The way he says it is strange. Almost as if he's underwater himself.

Eddie laughs behind you. You can feel it all the way into your chest, but if you close your eyes it doesn't feel like him at all. His arm around your waist may as well be a pillow, a pool noodle. It's not his arm.

You throw your hand out and feel for the rips in his jeans. Your fingers slide between the scraps of fabric and brush over his skin, the curled hairs smattering his thigh. You stroke your hand over them softly, thinking.

Eddie pulls your hand from his jeans and holds it. You sink down against him and feel the sudden jolt of being submerged. One second you're unsure, and the next you're positive. This isn't real. You're not here.

There's the sensation of being pulled. It should feel like a shift. A movement from one place to another. It doesn't feel like much at all. Like being sat at the bottom of a pool, actions at the surface can't reach you.

Eddie drums his hands over your thighs. His breath tickles your ear. "Come back," he says gently.

His chest feels flat under your back. You lean into him heavily, tilting your head back just enough to see his eyes. They move wrong, the pupils and irises all messed up like an egg with a broken yolk.

His eyelashes cut through the colours. He blinks quickfire and drops his lips to your forehead.

You turn back to the wall. Robin, Nancy and Steve are gone, though if they'd really been there to begin with is up for debate.

"Come back," his voice says again. "I'm right here."

"I know," you assure him, though you don't.

He waits with you for a while. The light feels blurred, his decorations melt into one thing, crayons in the sun, an inseperable hodge podge of colour.

Eddie pulls your arms out straight in front of you and runs his hands down the lengths of them. He squeezes them like he's emptying a piping bag, pushing feeling into your skin. He gets rough.

Eddie's never cruel, but it starts to feel hot. Your skin heats. The light filters in and the water tension you'd felt over your head breaks. You catch one of his hands to get him to stop and focus in on the feeling he's left behind.

"You okay?" he asks.

You climb out of his lap and spin on the spot to take in his living room. What was once unfamiliar becomes a thousand details. You take a deep, real breath and laugh weakly, barely a sound.

"Hey, it's alright," Eddie says worriedly, pulled forward on the couch. He reaches out for you and grabs the hem of your shirt.

"Yeah," you agree. You let him encourage your body into the space between his legs and take his face into your hands. He's half soft skin half stubble. The barest hints of it scratch your palms.

When you look into his eyes, they're right. They look like they've always looked. Brown and big.

"That was a bad one," you say.

He nods, brows pinched. "I know."

You wrap your arms around his head and cling to him, face shoved into his dark, wild curls. He smells real. He feels real. "You're real," you say.

"Always will be, sweetheart."

#eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #eddie munson x gn!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson drabble #tw dissociation #cw dissociation #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson hurt/comfort #eddie munson x reader hurt/comfort

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viviennevermillion · 1 year

Text

Joining them in the hot springs

notes: this event is feeding my creative brain so much.

contains: character x gn!reader

characters included: leona kingscholar, kalim al-asim, vil schoenheit, lilia vanrouge

warnings: none

dark content creators and consumers do not interact

Leona is happy to get out of the car and into the relaxing hot spring; praying to the stars above that Lilia and Kalim would not make that an experience too. He had turned the radio off immediately and considered punching it for a second after his two guests and classmates had decided to sing along to the music and clap to the rhythm of the song.

“If you’re not quiet on the way back, I’m leavin’ ya here and you can walk back to the hotel”, he shot the two of them an angry glare, “annoy someone else with your singing.” You poked his side and linked your arms. “If you keep looking all grumpy like this, you’re gonna get wrinkles all over your forehead”, you teased him and he gave you a smirk back. “And you’d still love me”, he wrapped an arm around your shoulder and led you to the secluded area only the royal family had access to. “Okay, the changing rooms for guests are over there, please don’t break anything or slip on the floor and die, we need you for the tournament tomorrow”, he sent the others off, “see ya in a couple of minutes.” The last sentence was directed specifically at you and he pressed a kiss to your forehead before parting from you.

When everyone else came out of the changing rooms, Leona was already relaxing in the hot spring. His eyes were closed and he had his hair tied up into a bun. Once you were submerged in the warm water, you marveled at your boyfriend for a while. He looked so peaceful like this. You could see ripples on the surface of the water where his tail was moving.

You smirked and decided to flick your finger on the surface of the water, sending a couple of droplets flying straight into Leona’s face. His eyes opened instantly as he reached for his magical pen at the side of the hot spring. Oh god. The last thing you saw was Leona’s mischievous grin before he sent a whole wave of water at you. “Which one of us is looking like a wet cat now, huh?”, he laughed but you weren’t giving up yet. You took both of your hands, pushing the water into his face. Leona grabbed your waist, pulling you onto his lap before he flicked his wet tail into your face gently. You shoved his tail aside.

“Argh- stop it, herbivore”, Leona growled at the sensation of you blowing cold air into his ear.

With both of you deciding that this was fun while it lasted but also that your time was better spent using the hot spring for its intended purpose, Leona pulled you very close to his chest and held you tightly against him, nuzzling your cheek affectionately. Both of you closed your eyes and Leona wrapped his tail around you. You took a deep breath, melting into Leona’s embrace as he gently ran his fingers up and down the skin of your back.

“Never thought I’d see you so affectionate and gentle with anyone”, Vil commented with a teasing smirk and Leona opened one eye to glare at him. “I can drown you in the pool and the guards will make it look like an accident”, Leona replied dryly but it was evident he wasn’t serious.

Leona indulged you as you pulled him into a loving kiss; his lips still tasting like the baobab candy he had eaten before.

He eventually fell asleep resting his chin on your shoulder or your head, mumbling a quiet “love ya, herbivore” in his sleep.

Kalim is the polar opposite of Leona when it comes to spending time in the hot springs.

He brought a floatie and pool noodles and a small radio that cost more than what you had in your bank account. “If ya play happy music here, I’m kickin' ya out”, Leona warned and Kalim put away the radio with a sad expression.

Kalim was so used to Jamil taking care of everything for him that he had a lot of trouble filling the floatie and the beach ball he had with air. “Here, let me help you with that”, you sighed and grabbed the pump, showing him how to do it. “Thank you so much, you’re the best!”, Kalim hugged you and looked at you with a bright smile before climbing back into the hot spring.

The two of you eventually ended up in a pool noodle fight together, hitting each other on the head with the foam sticks, much to everyone else’s annoyance. Kalim was laughing and eventually decided to surrender. “You’re so precious to me, I just have to let you win!”, he explained and pressed a kiss to your cheek, “I love you so much!” Kalim pulled you into another hug. “I love you more”, you insisted and gave his lips a sweet kiss. “No, I definitely love you the most-” “Would you two shut the fuck up?”, Leona groaned and held his head.

Things got even worse when Kalim decided to bring the beach ball. You had a blast for a while as you were throwing it back and forth in between you but the fun was over when Kalim aimed wrong and hit Vil in the head, knocking the cucumber slices off his eyes and smudging the beauty mask he had put on in the process.

Vil scolded Kalim and you for 2 minutes straight.

“We’re so sorry, Vil”, Kalim looked sad and you hugged him from behind, pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder.

His mood seemed to lighten up as you pulled him close to cuddle; deciding that relaxing was also nice if you two could snuggle in the meantime.

Kalim sat down on your lap in the hot springs and just snuggled you for the rest of the stay. He talked about how this was very different from the bathhouse they had at home and everyone stared at him in bewilderment as he described the place; unaware of how he once again shocked everyone with the Asim family's amount of wealth.

"If peasantry is an emotion, I'm feeling it right now", Grim sat outside of the hot springs, "and to spend that amount of madol on a bathhouse of all things. Just imagine how many cans of tuna I could buy from this."

"I'm pretty sure for most people the intergenerational supply of tuna would be the weirder purchase...", you mused and gently massaged the back of Kalim's head with your fingertips.

"Wow, you guys were right, I'm feeling totally refreshed right now!", Kalim commented with a smile as you exited the hot springs and he picked up his stuff. He attempted to play the radio in Leona's car on the way back. This did not work out.

For Vil, this was obviously the highlight of the entire trip. The whole reason Leona had even been able to bribe him to join the 'Catch the Tail' team. He was even more delighted to spend this day with you.

Your presence made him look past even the most bothersome inconveniences, namely Kalim and Lilia improvising a punk rock version of "Absolutely Beautiful" in the car. "Let's just hope they'll be more quiet in the hot springs", the Pomefiore dorm leader sighed and you passed the water bottle you had in your backpack to him, which made Vil smile, "how is it you always seem to know exactly what I need? It even is my favorite brand of water."

"You have a favorite brand of water?", Leona raised an eyebrow and then shook his head, "...talk about unnecessary things to think about..."

Vil ignored the grumpy lion beastman.

He was by far the one who took the longest in the changing rooms. He brought a bunch of products he had bought before at Elephant Legacy and was looking forward to trying them out.

He would let you use them as well if you wanted to.

He put on a beauty mask. Vil let you massage his shoulders with some new massage oil he bought and took care of the tension in your muscles as well. "Are you enjoying yourself, my love?", he asked and you could hear the affection in his voice as his fingers massaged the skin between your shoulder blades. "Hmm", you hummed and he gave you a sweet kiss to your cheek, leaving a slight lipstick mark on your face. He'd make sure to notify you of that before leaving the hot spring.

Vil would eventually end up resting against your chest. You had your arms wrapped around him from behind and he leaned the back of his head on your shoulder. Relaxing with you was worth compromising his posture for an hour.

Lilia is thrilled and also quite curious about going to Elephant Legacy and spending time at the hot springs just to relax.

He comes out of the changing rooms wearing the vacation shirt Malleus got him from Scalding Sands, a beach hat and a pair of star-shaped sunglasses. Vil has to really bite his tongue to not comment on how Lilia's choice of outfit has hurt him in his soul. His swimming trunks are in a shade of pink that does not work at all with the orange shirt and there's a bat pattern on it.

You don't know how he did it but he enters the secluded hot spring that only members of the royal family have access to with a tray of mocktails on it. He insists that he prepared them himself and that he's "quite good at making them". Knowing his cooking skills, you're not taking any chances. The others how ever? You'll never forget the face Kalim made when he took a sip from Lilia's homemade fruity drink. "Lilia...haha...what exactly did you put in this?", Kalim asks with a forced smile. "I made them to match your personalities", Lilia claps his hands with a joyful expression, "yours, Kalim, has orange, mango, chocolate and mashed chicken nuggets in it." Kalim sighs. "Hmm, I think the chicken nuggets were a bit much..."

"The fuck's in mine?", Leona asks, not having drank even a sip from his, "it looks awfully see-through." Lilia smirked. "Water, chili powder, a lot of salt and four shots of whiskey", he explains. Leona pushes the "drink" far far away from him.

Lilia joins you in the hot springs not soon after and wraps an arm around your shoulder, letting you rest against his chest.

He starts recalling times of war when he went to the hot springs to try and rest his bones as well as clean his wounds. He gives a very detailed description of the incident and Kalim starts crying.

Lilia would give you a massage and also let you massage his shoulders. He'd spend his time with you talking about everything you've seen on your trip so far now that you have some quiet time without a new experience waiting just around the corner. It's the perfect time for him to aquire how you liked your trip so far, what were the best parts for you and tell you some stories about his travels in the past. Lilia enjoys the peaceful atmosphere the hot springs create. "It's one of the best places to talk about one's worries or simply relax", he says with a smile on his face.

Lets you wash his hair while he leans back against you with a satisfied expression. Loves the feeling of your fingers against his scalp.

"This was a truly relaxing experience", he rejoices after exiting the hot spring, holding your hand in his, "I'll remember this for a long time, my love." He gives you a kiss to the cheek.

#twisted wonderland #leona kingscholar x reader #vil schoenheit x you #vil schoenheit x reader #kalim al asim x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader #leona x reader #kalim x reader #vil x reader #lilia x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #leona kingscholar headcanons #leona kingscholar x you #kalim al asim #leona kingscholar #vil schoenheit #lilia vanrouge

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pickingupmymercedes · 2 months

Text

Under an Ipê tree - Lewis Hamilton

The three times your annual visit to Senna’s tomb brought something different

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Senna! Reader

warnings: mentions of death, mourning, AD 21', Lewis at Ferrari (rubbing salt into every open wound apparently)

wordcount: +1k

a/n: Not gonna lie, started this one with something in mind and it took a life of its own. I know Senna! Reader isn't everyone's cup of tea, so please, proceed with caution, because there is mention to real events and real emotions envolved with mourning. Also, AD 21', I'm sure as hell not over that, so here's another trigger warning.

a/n. 2: Those trees are how pink Ipês look in blossom, I know Brasil is not known for its colder months but those beauties come alive after the few cold weeks.

_______________________________________

Like most traditions it started without any intent on actually becoming a thing. You and Lewis would take a couple hours off on Wednesdays before the Brazilian GP every year, the destination a known one to everyone in the paddock. It was a journey you used to do by yourself until Lewis had been the brave, and first one, to ask you if he could tag along. He’d been to Senna’s tomb before, you knew that much, but the respect and adoration he held for your late father had you deciding he should be good company.

_______________________________________

“I swear I had never seen my mom angrier. Can you imagine her with the speaker at Interlagos shouting to everyone with an ear that I shouldn’t be racing and if anything happened Ayrton was to blame cause I wasn’t even old enough to be there” You told a laughing Lewis while remembering when your father faked an ID so he could sneak you to the track and teach you how to race in your brand new - Mclaren themed – kart. A Christmas gift he went out of his way to get to the famous Brazilian track circuit in time to open day.

“You know, my favorites snippets of his life are the ones you talk about, Sundays at the pool, ice cream dates, kart running without your mom knowing. Whenever someone talks about him it’s always about his wins, his hardships, his cars and battles … it’s almost as if he didn’t exist beyond formula 1, like we froze just a fraction of him and forgot all about the rest.”

You smiled at him, you liked how Lewis never questioned your feelings towards f1’s out of this world idolatry on your father, mainly because at the end of the day, to your 8 year old past self, Ayrton was first and foremost “pai”, the dude that thought you not to be afraid by throwing you into the ocean when no one was looking, the one that cooked instant noodles for dinner in spite of your mom’s pleads, the one that constantly tried to show you that love is a feeling we should act upon in the present and never wait for a so promised tomorrow.

“He would’ve liked you I think… would’ve hated to race you, for sure. But as a person, he would have probably seen you as one of the good ones, pointing out bullshit, fighting fia every chance you get, protecting the guys back at the garage, focusing on racing and not talking, looking out for everyone.” You answered truthly, as he respectfully held his hands behind his back looking at the tomb stone, while you casually sat in the edge of the stone, almost too comfortable around the place from all the visits you’ve done over the years.

“I think you should meet Galisteu someday, she’ll have way more interesting stories about him to tell you than I do.” You absentmindedly noted, remembering all she’s told you about your father, this other side to him you never got the time to see.

“Nah… we’re our truest around kids, his best version was the one you got to see. Now, what was that time he sneaked a stray dog onto your apartment?” he asked while reaching for your shoulder so you both could walk along the path back to the car awaiting to take you both back.

_______________________________________

“I don’t think I really remember the sound of his voice” you sighed looking up at the Ipê tree just beside the tomb. You had shown Lewis a photo of what it looked like once in full blossom before, in the Brazilian winter, and he promised you he would eventually find the time to come see it in its full glory in late June.

The walk in the cemetery, the light hearted banter, him opening his heart on dreams and the future and the confessions you would eventually make to Lewis about Ayrton were part of the annual occurrence you had both unspokenly agreed on, but that one line seemed to have hit him hard enough he just motioned you to go on, no answers or remarks.

“I mean, I know what his voice sounds like because there’s a thousand and one interviews with him, but I don’t think I can truly remember what he sounded like in real life … how he talked to me.” You explained it further, now looking at the Briton.

He engulfed you in a hug, the kind only he knew how, your tears leaving marks on his shoulders. You would rarely cry over anything related to your father, at least not in front of people anyway, but Lewis was… well, Lewis. You and Niki were the one who pushed, like hell, to sign him to Mercedes back in 2014 against everyone’s better judgment, and while you knew he would be every bit the driver and phenomenon he was, neither of you anticipated the friendship that came out of seeing him almost every GP you attended. A relationship that had crept its own way into your hearts, slowly allowing to see each other as something more than just good friends.

“He’s proud of you, wherever he is. I know that much” He whispered, leaving a soft kiss to your temple and bringing you even closer to his body.

_______________________________________

“He would’ve crashed into Verstappen back in 2021, wouldn’t he?” He prompted out of nowhere, gazing seriously at the tomb as you observed him pondering over the possible outcomes of a race that, like a ghost, had been following him nonstop, specially with the São Paulo GP fast approaching and with it his chances of securing his 8th title, two races before the end of the season.

“Start another Senna vs. Prost ?! ” You thought out loud, trying to read into his expressions and mannerisms, a talent of his you weren’t quite as good.

“Maybe I should’ve done it”

“You’re not like that Lew. You’re you and no one, not a single person, wants someone else” Your exasperation clear in your voice, hands reaching for his chin as his eyes locked into yours and he nodded, an unspoken agreement between the two of you, one you had to hammer into his head from time to time, that he may have Ayrton as his idol but he was just as much of an icon to the sport, and to a million of kids out there.

“On Sunday you’re going to reach that top step in your red suit, fulfill Ayrton’s dream and claim a championship for Ferrari. You. Not him, nor anyone else” and come the end of the race, he did just that. Smiling down at the sea of people in a mix of old Mercedes merchs and new Ferrari ones, dedicating his trophy to all the other people who believed in the impossible with him.

#lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton imagine #f1 x reader #ayrton senna #Senna!reader

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marvelslut16 · 7 months

Text

The Flu

Prompt number: 22 "Who takes care of you?"

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner

Rating: T(een)

Word count: 2.8k+

Warnings: Age gap relationship. Dbf. Swearing. Boss and employee.

A/N: A few hours late for day 4, but I was a busy woman today. Aaron and Jack never go into the witness protection program, they catch Peter Lewis right away.

The job was just supposed to be temporary, one to help you get back on your feet after dropping out of school, and you got to help your long time infatuation Aaron Hotchner now that Jess was moving out of state. It was a win win in your eyes, and it got your dad off your back. But that was almost two years ago now, and there was no end in sight for your current arrangement as Jack’s live in nanny.

The one flaw in your logic was how drop dead gorgeous your boss is. Not that that is new information, you’d been drooling over him since you were sixteen when you saw him shirtless at a backyard/pool party your dad threw. But now it’s so much worse, because he’s so sexy doing all of his mundane tasks. Making coffee at five in the morning with bedhead? Sexy. Making dinner in one of his tight white dress shirts when he gets home from a case early? Still sexy. Dressed down in casual clothes coaching Jack’s soccer team? The most sexy.

As you lament, yet again, to your best friend over text about how unfairly hot Aaron Hotchner is, the front door opens. As if he knew you were talking about him, he enters the house with a thud having dropped his go bag by the front door. He slowly makes his way to the kitchen, where you are, and when he does you finally notice how miserable he looks. His dark hair is slicked to his forehead, his face pale- except for his cheeks which are bright red, and his eyes are bloodshot.

“Oh my god, Aaron! Are you okay?” your voice raising an octave, you rush over to him and guide him to one of the barstools in front of his large island.

“I’m fine, the team overreacted and sent me home,” he almost sounds convincing, until he finishes the sentence with a loud sneeze.

“Awww,” you rub your hand up and down his back comfortingly. “Did Jackers give you the flu?”

“No,” he argues, and tries to quietly sniffle.

“That’s it, straight to bed young man,” your hands resting on your hips as you tell him the same thing you told Jack a week ago when he came home from school with the flu. “While you take a nap I’ll make you some homemade chicken noodle soup.”

“It’s fine (Y/N), you don’t have to do that. I’m capable of making my own lunch,” he looks like a petulant child, his hands balled in fists also resting on his hips.

“When was the last time you let someone take care of you Aaron?” you ask, becoming annoyed that he keeps fighting you. “Six months ago when you were in the hospital, that’s when. And then you still fought it tooth and nail. Who takes care of you?”

“I can take care of myself,” he starts coughing as a result of lowering his voice in order to use his boss voice. A voice he only ever uses on you when you try to care for him too.

“You want to go back to work again soon right?” he nods. “So just listen to me. Take some Tylenol and go lay down. Please let me make you some soup.”

He finally relents and heads upstairs to bed, but not before you get him a large glass of water. Thankfully you were planning on making chicken for dinner, so you already have some thawing. You waste no time and start cooking the chicken in one pot, then you chop the vegetables. After the chicken has been shredded and the soup is simmering, making the whole house smell delicious, you sneak upstairs to check on your patient.

You’re happy to see that he’s laying in the middle of his bed bundled up in his sheets with little snores escaping him.Despite him being sick, he still looks far more at peace and relaxed in this moment then he has since you met him back when he was still a prosecutor. After a few minutes of taking him in, you head back to the kitchen and toast and butter bread to go with his soup. The soup is done ten minutes later, and you ladle a nice heaping bowl for him.

You trek back up the stairs, walk into Aaron’s room and stand beside his bed. You’ve woken him up a bunch of times when he falls asleep watching movies with you and Jack or when he falls asleep at the island going over paperwork for work, but this feels different. You’re in his bedroom, you’re boss’ bedroom. Overcoming your nerves you reach forward and gently shake his shoulder, he wakes with a start whipping his hand to grasp your wrist in a bruising grip.

“Aaron,” you startle, he doesn’t register that you aren’t a threat in his half asleep stupor. “It’s me, it’s (Y/N).”

“(Y/N)?” he snaps out of it, face contorting into a frown when he sees his white knuckled grip around your wrist. “Shit! I’m so sorry!”

“It’s fine,” you smile lightly, rubbing your wrist when he finally lets go. “It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have woken you up like that.”

“It’s my fault,” he argues, sitting up and leaning against his mahogany headboard. “I couldn’t stop thinking about the case at work before I fell asleep, I must have dreamt about it.”

“It’s fine Aaron, I just wanted to let you know the soup is done, there’s a bowl cooling on the island for you,” you smile as you slowly back out of his room, suddenly feeling like you’re intruding.

Aaron doesn’t say anything else, so you slip out of the room and head back to the kitchen to start cleaning up. Aaron joins you a few minutes later, wrapped tightly in his blue robe Jack picked out for him for Christmas last year. Aaron lets out an involuntary moan after taking a spoonful of soup, and you clench your thighs together at the delicious sound.

“This is the best chicken noodle soup I’ve ever had,” Aaron says once he’s scarfed down half of his bowl.

“You hate chicken noodle soup,” you giggle, remembering the cute way his nose crinkled in disgust when that was the only soup at some fancy restaurant the team and their families went to last year.

“Not this one!” he shovels in another spoonful.

You give Aaron another helping of the soup, glad that he’s eating and hydrating himself, before putting the rest into a container and into the fridge. You have just enough time to wash the pot and counters before heading to pick Jack up from school.

“I’m gonna head out and get Jackers in a few minutes,” you tell Aaron as he starts sneezing again. “Once you finish that, go lay back down and drink lots of water.”

“You can’t tell me what to do,” he murmurs thinking you won’t be able to hear him. But you do, and you glare at him for his childish antics. He finally relents, “okay.”

The drive to get Jack isn’t very long, but after the whole Peter Lewis fiasco, Aaron won’t let Jack walk home or ride the bus. And you don’t blame him. Your dad told you about Jack getting stalked during one of your weekly phone calls while you were away for school, you were rattled for the Hotchner’s.

“(Y/N)!” Jack comes running at you when he sees you, you bend down and scoop him into your arms and carry him to the car. You’ll never get tired of how excited he gets to see you when you pick him up, it’s the same happy reaction every day.

“How was school buddy? Get all the homework you missed last week when you were home sick?” you bombard him with questions as you unlock the car.

“It was great! We got to play soccer in gym today and I scored three times!” Jack wiggles in excitement before you set him back on the ground.

“That's great buddy!” you smile at him as he slips into his seat.

“Yes I got all of my make up work,” he pouts once you get into the driver's seat. “Lots of fractions, and you know how much I hate those.”

“I’ll tell ya what, you do one of your math worksheets and then we can make your dad a get well soon card,” over your time with the Hotchner’s you’ve learned that bargaining is how to incentivise the both of them. “He came home from work early with the flu.”

“Dad’s home?” Jack start’s to excitedly bounce in his seat, happy that he’ll get to spend more time with his favorite person.

“Yeah, but just remember that he’s not feeling his best so he won’t be able to do a lot,” a bittersweet smile crosses your face, it’s not fair that they don’t get to spend more time with one another. It’s not fair that Aaron has to sacrifice his personal life to make the world a better place for everyone else.

When you walk in the door you're greeted with the sight of Aaron bundled up on the couch under three blankets, the news playing quietly on the TV. Jack gives his dad a big hug before scurrying off to the kitchen to grab a snack and start his homework. You walk up to the lump on the couch that was once Aaron and reach your forearm forward to feel his forehead, and sure enough he’s much warmer than he should be.

“I don’t feel good,” Aaron whines, making the same pouty face Jack made all last week. “Everything aches.”

“I know sweetheart,” you let the term of endearment slip without thinking, too focused on trying to comfort Aaron. “You have a fever, you need to drink lots of water and get out from under those blankets.”

“No,” he huffs, clutching onto his blankets like he needs them to live. “I don’t have a fever, it’s just cold in here.”

“Aaron it's seventy two degrees in here, it’s not cold. You need to take the blankets off, it’ll only make it worse,” he shakes his head sinking further into the couch. “Fine, if I go grab the thermometer and it says you have a fever, I’m taking both of your blankets into the kitchen with me while I help Jack with his homework.”

You don’t give him time to respond before you head to the upstairs bathroom where you had checked Jack for a fever this morning before school. When you get back to him, Aaron has sunk further down into the couch and cocoon of blankets trying to hide from the thermometer in your hand. You eventually get it in his mouth and sure enough he has a one hundred one degree fever.

“Hand over those blankets,” you reach your hand out for them, and he reluctantly gives them to you. “Now drink some water and watch the news. And no more blankets!”

You help Jack with two math worksheets before he remembers your deal, and demands you make a card. He decorates the printer paper in every color marker and tops it off with those marker stamps you got him for his birthday. Jack even makes you sign your name on the card.

“Is this for me?” Aaron coughs and sits up when Jack thrusts the card in his face. “Aww thanks buddy, I love it!” Jack sits on the couch with his dad for a few minutes, but after seeing the news is on he gets up and leaves.

“You feeling up for dinner?” you ask Aaron, when Jack heads back to finish some more homework. “It’s too late for me to make something, is there any take out you want?”

“Happy Meal!” Jack yells from the kitchen

“You heard the little man, we’re having McDonalds tonight,” Aaron smiles at you as you grab your keys and call Jack to come ride with you.

The rest of the night is stress free, Jack actually listens to you when you tell him it’s time to shower and get ready for bed, all because his dad is sick and doesn’t want to make it worse. Well it’s stress free where Jack is concerned, you still have to deal with the full grown baby you call your boss.

“Time for bed Aaron,” you tell him after you’ve dried Jack’s hair and read him to sleep. “I know you don’t want to but you need to get your rest.”

“I’m not tired,” he says, even though he grabs your hand when you hold it out to him, you pull him out of his chair and lead him up the stairs and to his room

“Now take two more Tylenol and go to sleep,” he reluctantly takes the pills out of your hand and throws them back dry.

“There, are you happy?”

“I’m ecstatic,” you deadpan, moving to fluff his pillows for him.

“Thank you,” Aaron catches your gaze when he speaks, making sure to hold it.

“It's my job,” you dismiss his praise, not wanting to let yourself think about it too much and read too deep into it.

“No it's not, you always go above and beyond for us, for me,” Aaron gently catches the wrist he squeezed earlier making a mental image of the faint bruise marring your skin, and vowing to never let the world hurt you.

“Aaron,” your breath catches at the delicate ghosting of his fingertips on the inside of your wrist.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers, leaning forward and now it’s his lips ghosting over your wrist. You swear your heart stops when he pushes down harder, leaving a trail of kisses around your wrist.

“What are you doing?” you ask breathlessly, the last thing you want is for him to stop, but you also need to make sure he’s in his right mind when doing this.

“Kissing you,” the words fall out of his mouth effortlessly, like they’re said all of the time. His mouth travels up your arm and he’s kissing the sensitive crook of your elbow.

Aaron pulls you down next to him in bed, quickly scooping you up and cradling you in his arms. You're at a loss for words, your dream is coming true. Aaron Hotchner actually wants you as much as you want him, and it isn’t a dream. When you’re lost in thought his lips descend on yours, and soon you get lost in him instead. There’s no rush to your kiss, just a slow languid strokes of his tongue twining with yours. It’s the perfect first kiss, there’s a heat to it, but no sense of urgency to get it over with.

“(Y/N), you have my heart,” Aaron admits breathlessly, arms wrapping around you tighter. “I know it’s wrong for many reasons, but you made my heart beat again. You love Jack and you’re wonderful with him. He loves you. I love you. You take care of me even though you don’t have to, you are the most amazing person. You’re perfect for Jack and me.”

“You have my heart too, I love you too,” you grip his chin and pull him in for another kiss. “You and Jack are everything to me, I finally feel like I belong somewhere, here with the two of you. I never want to lose this, lose you.”

“You won’t,” he kisses you one more time before pulling away completely. “But you should probably go to your own room now, wouldn’t want you to get sick from sleeping with me tonight.”

“I was home with Jack all last week, I’m fine. Plus it’s probably better I stay in here and keep an eye on you,” he smirks, kissing you one last time before resting his head on your chest.

The rest of the week is wonderful, Aaron still argues with you when you try to take care of him, but when Jack’s at school you two let the facade down. You cuddle with him and kiss him whenever you walk past him, making out on the couch like you’re two horny teenagers. Before you know it, it’s Sunday and Aaron is feeling better so he has to go into work in the morning. As the two of you say goodnight to Jack you start sneezing and the sniffling you’ve had all day rears its ugly head.

“I told you not to sleep with me,” Aaron teases you after you close Jack's door, pulling you with him and back into his room.

“I’m fine,” your arguing falls short as you start sneezing again.

“I think the team can do without me for another case,” Aaron smiles as you slip into bed with him. “I need to be here to take care of you now.” Who would have thought the flu would be what finally got you two together?

#fictober23 #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner #hotch x reader #hotch x you #hotch x y/n #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

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verysium · 6 months

Text

ACT 1, SCENE 3: blue lock headcanons

sae is into skincare: lotions, serums, the whole set. he and rin used to have self-care nights as children during which they would sit in bed with matching face masks and watch cartoons on the family tablet. if they were in a good mood, they would let you join.

barou listens to classical while working out. no joke. this man is so insanely focused he will shoot goals and play paganini at the same time. his work ethic is low-key why you were attracted to him the first place.

nagi is lazy to the point he will deliberately buy five pairs of the same exact pants just to save himself the trouble of having to choose an outfit in the morning. thank god for reo otherwise nagi would still be dressing like he just crawled out of bed. he still can't do much about his bedhead though.

rin desperately wanted to join sae in the deeper end of the community pool; however, he was deathly afraid of drowning. his only logical solution was to cover himself in pool floaties while he dipped a single toe into the water. even to this day, he still has traumatic memories of that experience. you need to hold his hand every time.

kaiser acts like his football prowess comes entirely from natural talent. in reality, he trains to an obsessive degree behind the scenes. you could come home at midnight, and he would still be there replaying every single highlight of his recent game. he is the type to keep detailed notes about all the players he went up against.

isagi likes to walk around his hometown of saitama and just observe the snapshots of life around him. whether it's a street vendor, children playing on a grass patch, or a couple in the sunset, he secretly enjoys these little vignettes of human experience. he would become sentimental when it comes to you. sometimes you have to pull his head out of the clouds.

nagi has parents who work overseas, so the most he sees of them is through video calls or holiday presents. occasionally, he also gets a birthday card shipped through international mail. when you threw him his first surprise party, he secretly felt touched because his family was never big on physical celebrations.

sae is ridiculously good at anything that involves data and calculations. he participated in a math competition one time in junior high, and he would have made it to the national level had he not been entirely focused on football. refused to tutor rin in algebra though because apparently his little brother has to figure out everything for himself. if it were you though, he would begrudgingly agree.

bachira holds the world record in procrastination. his notebook, pencil, and eraser are still as untouched and pristine as they were on the first day of the academic school year. he does not know what a book is, nor has he read one. he only studied because you refused to cuddle with him otherwise.

ego eats so many cups of instant ramen noodles that his glasses begin to fog up from time to time. anri has to clean the frames and lenses weekly just to make sure his myopic self can even see. at this point, she's the real MVP of the entire series.

barou likes to open the windows right after it rains because he enjoys the sweet smell of petrichor. his ideal day would be spent lounging on a couch with some tea and a novel. it would be even more perfect if you snuggled under the blankets with him.

niko sometimes wakes up in the middle of the night, immensely insecure about his forehead. he thinks it looks giant though it really isn't. you have to brush his fringe back and pepper kisses down his face and remind him that a big forehead means a big, sexy brain, so it really isn't that bad. he believes you and goes back to sleep.

shidou would make fun of boomers. in fact, he'd ridicule every single person he considers past their prime. he does not believe in any form of authority, nor does he like being told what to do. if he had his way, he would have turned the entire world into anarchy a long time ago. the only reason why he doesn't wake up and make himself everyone's problem is because he doesn't want to upset you.

kaiser knows he is very well-endowed physically, so he purposefully walks around your apartment shirtless. if he catches you eyeing him, he will make a big deal out of it. tries to not-so-subtly flex his biceps every time he reaches for the milk carton.

reo loves cocktail dresses, especially in the wine red shade. something about the accentuated figure and natural curves gives him goosebumps. his favorite part of you is when your tummy slightly protrudes after you've eaten too much. you might think it's embarrassing, but he thinks it's adorable.

rin only uses shower gel, mostly because he learned his lesson after using the locker room shower stalls. never use bar soap, always use bottled. he's also the type to always have shower shoes. sae taught him that.

bachira is the type of student to completely misread the question and still not feel bad after the teacher points it out. oh no, he was actually supposed to solve for x, not just circle it? he'll shrug it off like nothing ever happened. at least he tried. the teacher should be grateful for his effort.

sae says he does not understand the sentiments behind cute couple traditions but then proceeds to get upset when you show up to his game without wearing his jersey. would definitely get you matching bracelets for your anniversary.

aiku has a high spice tolerance. he would definitely drown his food either in sriracha or buldak sauce. if you can't handle spicy though, he would set aside a separate plate just for you and manually spoon out the food just to make sure you have something to eat too.

aryu never has dry cuticles. he is always trimming and filing to perfection. sometimes he has beef with your nail tech because he thinks he could have done so much better on your acrylics. refuses to let you go to a salon because he already has all the tools and expertise necessary.

sae does not know how to cook. his manager has always ordered take-out for him. the one time he tried to use a microwave, he completely misread the package instructions and nearly burned the entire building down. called you up with the straightest face afterwards to tell you that the smoke alarms were not shutting off.

barou unconsciously caves into peer pressure. every single new trend makes him rethink his personal style. however, he views it all with an old man mentality. like what are these youngsters doing these days? dying their hair every possible color of the rainbow? he has to do that too. proceeds to call aryu to add red streaks into his own hair. sometimes you have to remind him that external opinion should always taken with a grain of salt.

chigiri has a major sweet tooth. if you so much as bake him one single treat, he will have made plans to put a ring on your finger before he even finishes the damn pastry. his ideal partner is someone mature and understanding who can take care of him well. definitely likes the homemaker type.

gagamaru is the seeing friend in your relationship. no matter how many trips he makes to the optometrist, he will always come back with perfect 20/20 vision. definitely a nature enthusiast, and he loves hiking. even if you're blind as a bat, he will always be there to hold your hand in the dark.

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cal-flakes · 9 months

Note

dealer!rafe bathing depressed reader and being gentle with her

╰┈➤ rafe bathes depressed y/n

warnings: sensitive topics! talks of depression, restricted eating, angst.

summary: rafe does whatever he can to help his girlfriend out of her spiral.

rafe sighed as he lingered at the top of the stairs, his heart aching slightly as he watched their tabby cat scratch at the bedroom door, purring incessantly.

“mommy’s sad huh?” he spoke softly as if the feline could understand, stroking her with one hand as she rubbed against his leg. in the other, he held a small bowl of chicken and mushroom noodles, her favourite, in hopes she’d feel like eating something today.

turning the handle gentle, rafe and her four legged friend entered the room quietly, mutually acknowledging that they shouldn’t startle y/n.

she lay in bed, drowning in the covers while her tatty hair sprawled across the pillows. her eyes were bloodshot, widening as she noticed the figures in the room with her. “r-rafe..” she croaked, too weak to turn around.

appearing in her view, he perched on the bed, placing the warm bowl on the nightstand. “hi sweetheart, i brought you some noodles, do you think you could try and have just a little bit?” he cooed, pushing away some tangled hair from her face.

her eyes flitted between him and the expensive ceramic bowl, guilt pooling in her stomach. “i-i don’t know” she whispered, her eyes squeezing shut for a moment, empty of tears.

“hey- hey, that’s fine angel, that’s okay. but i am going to run you a bath, m’kay? might make you feel a little better..” he hummed, leaning to press a tentative kiss before his presence disappeared, sauntering into their en-suite.

she whimpered slightly, unable to take her eyes off the bowl until a light weight hopped onto the bed, nuzzling it’s head against her covered torso.

y/n tilted her head slightly to look at the cat, who was now staring back at her with wide eyes. “lila..” y/n muttered, struggling to pull her arm out from under the blanket.

breaking free from the mounds of blankets, she stroked lila’s head, circling her hand round to underneath the cats chin.

the pair sat like that for a little over fifteen minutes, enjoying each others company until rafe came back through. that damn cat.

his mouth fell open as he noticed a familiar sparkle return to her eyes for a split second, watching as she stroked the fluffy creature, something she hadn’t felt able to do in days.

“hey, you can’t steal her away from me lila, I know you think you can, but she’s mine” rafe stated jokingly as he rounded the bed, having filled the bath tub with all her favourite scents and scrubs.

his eyes lit up as he saw a tiny smile appear on her face, looking between him and lila. “bath’s ready angel..” he grinned, untucking the covers to help her up.

her weak, shaky hands gripped his as she pushed down on them, using them as a handle to lift herself out of bed. he held her up while she rested her head on his chest as she fell breathless, suddenly collapsing in his arms.

“shit, are you okay?” he asked, hastily snaking his arm around her waist to prevent any injuries. “i don’t think i can get the the bathroom” she whimpered, a few stray tears rolling down her cheeks as she stared at the ground.

“i’ll carry you baby, m’kay?” he soothed, giving her a chance to wrap her arms around his neck before hoisting her up and carrying her to the bathroom.

setting her down on the closed toilet seat, he began carefully tugging her clothes off, discarding them in the laundry basket behind him.

reaching down once again, he lifted her into the bath, allowing her a moment to become familiar with the temperature of the water. he pressed soft kisses to the back of her hand as she slid into the bath, fully submerging herself.

“thank you..” she mumbled, pulling her knees to her chest. she sat like that while he proceeded to wash her hair.

“is that too much?” he asked, showing her the squirt of conditioner in his hand. “no, that’s fine..”

nodding, he used a spare plastic container to rinse her hair, swiftly moving to grab a loofa and some body wash. “uhh, orange or coconut?” he asked again, holding up two bottles of scented body wash. “coconut please..”

“ooh! good choice!” he joked, setting the spare one down. his heart almost skipped a beat as another small smile spread across her face, filling his heart completely with so much love and compassion.

he grabbed her arms gently, out-stretching them as he rubbed the loofa in circular motions against her pale skin, washed out by the lack of sunlight.

“you seem to be feeling better today..” he hummed, glancing up to gage her reaction. “yeah, i think so..”

“i’m sorry if i’m a burden..” she uttered, stopping him in his tracks. he looked at her almost in horror, as if she’d just spat in his cereal.

“shush, that’s ridiculous…” he cooed, cupping her cheek with his warm hand. “i love you y/n, more than you could even begin to comprehend”

she smiled once more as she leant into his touch, staring deeply into his wide eyes. “i would go to the ends of the earth for you if it would keep this pretty smile on your face”

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x fem!reader #outer banks #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron #obx #rafecameron #rafe obx #dom!rafe #soft!rafe cameron #soft!rafe #dealer!rafe #rafe outer banks #rafe x reader #bf!rafe #bf!rafe Cameron #obx3 #obx imagine #obx fanfiction

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janort · 11 months

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Hello fellow tumbler user janot, I have a pure breed fool and he has found a plastic gun, when fired a red cloth flag pops out with "Bang" printed in black lettering. I am greatly concerned about him having this vile object, it is against my pure Christian family and household. I am considering selling him to a butcher do you have any recommendations?

Hello epicsadman, as per Galatians 5:12, it would be impermissible to sell a clown to a butcher as killing a clown is akin to killing a child. If you truly feel that strongly about the toy gun, I would suggest seeking out couple’s religious counseling with your clown. Perhaps you can work out your differences with the help of a spiritual adviser. However, to offer my perspective, if God didn’t want clowns to have little toy guns that go ‘bang’, he wouldn’t have made little toy guns that go ‘bang’ so much fun to play with. Just as how god wouldn’t have made pool noodles if he didn’t want us to hit our snotty little brothers with them. If you really can’t find a solution, perhaps try replacing the flag that says ‘bang’ with a flag that says ‘JESUS OF NAZARETH’

I wish you the best and god bless.

#asks #clown husbandry #clownblr #clown posting #clowncore #clowns #clown #please send me more stuff like this #it’s so much fun

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jolieblack · 1 month

Text

Jolie's thoughts on

The Creeping Man (Sherlock & Co. podcast)

Check out these lovely pieces of fanart for the episode:

Stake out by @mayhasopinions

Rip Ratthew by @noodles-and-tea

You feline bastard by @abstractfrog

I hope people in this universe will never get the idea that Watson is the great storyteller. That’s clearly Sherlock - his deduction about the death of Ratthew was easily as engaging as his account of Matheus's death back in "Thor Bridge".

"Get down here and atone for your sins, you feline bastard!" 🤣 I just love how strongly Sherlock felt about Ratthew‘s death. And then how strong a bond he ended up forming with the perpetrator.

And the meta jokes in this podcast! Mariana pleading for donations bc Sherlock & John weren’t getting paid for this case but were still renting high end cars and attending expensive events… John ruining a brilliant opportunity for an ad break at the Thai restaurant… I can’t believe how brilliant a parody of true crime shows this continues to be, as well as a fantastic audio drama, *and* a very very sweet account of one of the most beautiful friendships in the history of literature.

More stuff I liked in this episode:

Sherlock & John playing Scrabble. Joel Emory is the King of Banter.

We got a "come at once"! 🥳

"It’s 2024, no-one needs to be saying 'thus'". 😆

Have we actually just assumed until now that John is short in this universe, too? At any rate we just heard it confirmed by Bill Wiggins and I’m HERE for it.

The uncool non-noir stakeout 🤣

"And are those skeletal entities in the room with us now?" 🤣

"My dear companion" *happy sigh*

John ending up in Chekhov‘s pool just before the 2nd part credits. On the cliffhanger scale of 1-10, definitely an 11.

"There we go, John." - I love how Sherlock reserves the use of Watson's first name for special occasions. And how caring he can be. He also literally just fished John out of the pool!? So they’re both sopping wet in this scene?!

Loved John's little speech about people’s lives getting commercialised. And the ping at the end.

"I hate you both." - Mariana is such a vibe sometimes.

"Say no more." - "So long, sucker." - "Oh no, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!" - John Watson , anti-hero extraordinaire, strikes again, pun intended. How can you not love him.

"I have a dog and a detective to look after." - My heart.

On a serious note for a moment, I thought it was interesting how well this ACD story translates to our modern day and age, with the quest for eternal youth going stronger than ever, and people still willing to pay enormous sums of money for scams like that, and even ready to ruin their physical and mental health for it. I love how this show keeps finding ways to make the themes of ACD‘s stories relevant to today’s world.

In the crime solving sense, I dare say it was completely clear what the mystery was about halfway through the 2nd part, even for those who didn’t know the original story… but the showdown was definitely worth waiting for. Glorious.

#sherlock & co #sherlock and co #sherlock & co podcast #podlock #the creeping man #episode notes

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aureliaporter · 9 months

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cannonball

summary: headcanons of going to the pool with jing yuan !!

a/n: spent like two hours in a pool today and i tanned, touched the bottom like four times nearly passed out and inhaled half the water oh my god

cw: mentions of choking (on water), mentions of food, intentional lowercase

GOING TO THE POOL WITH JING YUAN WOULD INCLUDE;

him bringing a literal beach bag for your things

. he needs it more than you do

him applying your sunblock for you

. if you don't like it, he'll distract you with kisses

. also he uses the lotion instead of the spray

you applying his sunblock for him

. he would attempt to distract you with kisses (again)

. and whines when you dodge his lips and smear the lotion on his skin instead

him wearing loose swim trunks and complaining when they stick to his legs

. they have duck designs on them

. don't ask why he just does

swimming up below you and lifting you just to hear you shriek

. or grabbing your ankle for the same reason

him buying snow cones for the pair of you

. and stealing half of yours when you're not looking

. will try to get the different colors of your lips to mix until you remind him there's children in the pool

him getting incredibly worried when you choke on any water

. he's immediately tugging you to the edge of the pool (or even out of it entirely) to let you cough it out

him floating around on his pool noodle (that somehow can support his entire muscle mass) and acting lonely when you decide to tan

. he's trying to convince you to come back in

. don't

. he's going to splash you

y'alll i got sunburnt today and it's not even funny because i didn't tan at all >:0 and i like never burn either

anyways jin yuang is a mood and a sweetheart and i hope you all enjoyed!!

#jing yuan #jing yuan fluff #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x reader fluff #honkai star rail #honkai star rail fluff #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x reader fluff #fluff #hsr #hsr fluff #hsr x reader #hsr x reader fluff

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shares-a-vest · 2 months

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@steddielovemonth Day 11: Love is... Saving the last bite for them (Prompt by @acasualcrossfade)

wc: 586 | Rated: G | cw: Food, Eating

Tags: Clean-Up After a Party, Bickering, Steve's House, The Party Being Total Shits (they are not present, but it's the premise)

The Clean-Up Crew

Eddie looks over the mess atop the Harrington’s kitchen counter and sighs.

The place is destroyed – littered with paper plates and solo cups (that were sourced from god knows where), food leftovers, crumbs and overall rubbish. All the aftermath of an impromptu ‘pool party’, pool noodles and all, courtesy of a pack of ravenous and uninvited teen gremlins.

Their lazy Sunday afternoon in the height of an Indiana summer wasn’t supposed to go like this.

Nor did Eddie think he and Steve would be spending their Date Night acting as a clean-up crew. He guesses he should count himself lucky that the little shits even decided to leave – something about Mike having a haul of candy stashed away in his dank basement.

“Can you at least help me if you are gonna start complaining?��

His eyes snap from a melted blob of something-chocolate to find a very disgruntled, Steve glaring back. He’s wearing an apron. One that is surely his mother’s considering the red tartan-like pattern and frills.

“I didn’t say anything!” Eddie defends, stifling a giggle as Steve wildly gestures to the bench as he sports a yellow pair of rubber gloves.

“Just…” Steve sighs, clearly overwhelmed by the volume of mess, “Help me now and then we can eat.”

Eddie frowns and picks up a nearby box of cereal – his Honeycombs Steve adds to his grocery list especially for him. He upends it and sure enough, it’s empty.

He tosses it to the side and grits his teeth.

“And what are we supposed to eat, exactly?” he spits.

Steve smirks to himself, wipes his gloves on his apron and heads – nay, struts – to the refrigerator.

“Dustin bought over a goddamn cake if you can believe it,” he explains, opening the door and disappearing behind it.

And just as quickly he pops back into view, holding up a delicate white dinner plate in victory.

“They are such little shits,” Eddie says, shaking his head in disbelief.

He is certain the fridge is just as barren as the rest of the kitchen, so there’s simply no way Steve could have possibly had an easy time hiding the treat.

“They are the worst,” Steve agrees, setting the plate down between them and ripping off the saran wrap, “But Henderson has a good taste in all things cake.”

He snaps off a glove and tosses it onto the floor, wiggling his brows as he does so.

Eddie recoils, “Don’t talk about Henderson while you make goo-goo eyes at me!”

Steve lifts the plate into his purview and goddamn it smells like fudgy, chocolate heaven. He could kiss Steve stupid but... He is just so annoyed that those damn entitled kids, who think nothing of treating Steve’s house as their own personal Club Med.

“Did they really go to Melvad’s on the way here?” he wonders, scrunching his nose.

“Yeah,” Steve chuckles.

“And then biked all the way across town with party food and bottles of soda?”

He breaks off a piece of cake with his fingers and all but shoves it into his mouth. He groans, smacking his lips (it tastes just as good as it looks) and greedily licks his fingers.

Steve nods, “And somehow Sinclair hauled over a lifetime supply of Coke cans too.”

“And the pool noodles?” he asks, spittling cake as he dives in for more.

But Steve smacks his hand away.

“After clean up,” he laughs, “Besides, I meant for us to share.”

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie ficlet #steddielovemonth #tw food #tw eating #food mention

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kitthepurplepotato · 10 months

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MWRMI Part 3

Week 1 - The Art of All Might 🎨

~•🥦•~

Summary: Y/N works on an All Might art. Midoriya becomes an art critic.

Warnings: Some swear words, mentions of blood

First Part Master List

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Midoriya wasn’t lying when he said he won’t be home too much. It has been 4 days since the pool-accident and you haven’t seen the guy at all since. Sometimes, you wake up to some rustle in the middle of the night when he gets home, or to the annoying ringing noise of his fancy ass bracelet, but that’s it. He leaves before you wake up and comes back when you’re already asleep, and sometimes, he doesn’t come home at all.

You are a little bit concerned for the hero’s general health so you decide to start preparing some food for the poor fella; there is always a new cup noodle box in the bin in the morning even though there is freshly made rice in the rice cooker. He probably just mixes some rice into his noodles and thinks that’s “good enough”.

Well, it is NOT. Mama Y/N will make sure the boy eats his vegetables before he runs away to fight the evil.

With that said, you wake up at the humble hour of 11AM and make your way to the kitchen with your sketchbook and your pencil case; you want to get a start on your commissions while the food is cooking.

You want to make something without rice today; he’s been eating rice with cup noodles for at least 4 days in a row so you decide to make a pasta dish full of veggies and some chicken salad in case he wants to snack on something when he’s in a hurry.

You went out for grocery shopping the day before; you used your own card to buy them, thank you very much; and bought a bunch of veggies and tomato sauce. You put some water on the hob to boil, you slice up your veggies for the sauce: some eggplants, paprika, tomatoes, garlic and onion; after the veggies are in the pot with the tomato sauce, you put some chickpeas in it as well for some protein.

Yes, this will do. The amount might be a bit over the top, but Midoriya is a big guy and he probably needs to eat way more than a normal person.

Oh fuck, you hope he doesn’t have any allergies.

Gluten is definitely fine as the cup noodles he ate had gluten in them, so you should stop freaking out. This is pro hero Deku you are talking about. Allergies have nothing on him. He’s too PLUS ULTRA for that shit.

After you are done with the salad; the chicken is also getting ready on the hob; you sit down on the massive table to start to sketch out your commission. It’s All Might Texas smashing a nomu into the concrete in his young age costume.

You start sketching while the food cooks, concentrating mainly on All Might right now; the background can wait until the last minute even though you already have a rough idea for it; a city next to the sea, the sea rumbling aggressively from the tremors of All Might’s smash in the background. Ahh, epic.

The food is done way before you are, so you quickly box up the most of it and continue working on your drawing. You end up drawing until late, not even realizing how dark it is outside already. This is the thing with you; once you start, it’s really hard for you to stop until you finish the rough sketch and All Might is a complicated character anyway; it’s hard to describe why but you feel like his body is somehow more detailed than anyone else’s.

You end up falling asleep on the table around 2AM; you only wake up when you hear the main door open but you are still half asleep and so-so tired, you don’t have it in you to move. There is no reason to move, really; there is food on the table for the hero to eat, the table is big enough for him to have enough space to eat even with half of your body being splayed out on it. You might have a slight back ache already from the pose you are sleeping in, but honestly… whatever.

“Ahh, silly you.” You hear a mumble really close to you, but you decide to ignore it for the sake of your beauty sleep. You can hear Deku microwaving the food you left out for him and saying thank you while sniffling aggressively. Is he crying? Fuck, he’s so precious. He’s still just a shy boy deep inside, isn’t he? You can hear him moving your sketchbook from under you; if you wouldn’t be half asleep you definitely would NOT let him do that.

“Hm.” He mumbles and stands up from his seat then sits down again; by the sound of it he’s writing something down on a piece of paper. Probably a thank you message. After a while the clink of the fork stops and you can feel Deku’s warmth around you.

Why is he so close?!

Oh… you are being carried, bride style.

Pro hero Deku, your favorite person in the world is carrying you to your fucking bed at whatever AM and he smells fresh and nice, even though he just came home from work. He probably showered before coming back.

Okay, this is a stupid fanfiction, isn’t it? What a fucking cliché thing to do, like honestly, can’t this person come up with something more creative? No kudos for this one. No kudos.

Midoriya moves the sheets out of the way and puts you down; he makes sure you are properly tugged in like a little child. You are waiting for the kiss on your forehead but it never comes; apparently the greenette realized you are indeed not a child and it would be creepy as fuck to do something like that after knowing each other for only a few days. He sighs and leaves your room; you can hear a slight rustling and the buzzing of the microwave before you pass out completely.

~•🥦•~

The next day comes sooner than you expected it to; the sun beams into the room with full force thanks to the blinds not being closed the night prior. You take a look at your clock; it’s 8AM.

Well, at least you were able to sleep 6 hours and to be fair, you don’t do much during the day anyway, so this will do. The flat is quiet, the only sound you can hear is All Meowt doing his business in the bathroom. Not the best sound to wake up to but you’ll take it.

Speaking of All Meowt, that cat hates your guts. Every time you leave your room he scrambles into Deku’s through the little pet door; of course there is a fucking pet door on every single door. This cat is the most spoiled creature the world has ever seen.

You really hope he just needs some time to adjust to your existence in his home, otherwise it will be really hard for you to take care of his needs in the a future. You really don’t want to barge into the pro hero’s room without a permission from Midoriya, and you are also not sure if your fanatic little heart would be able to take the sight of Midoriya’s personal little room with all his beloved kick-knacks and stuff. It’s too much information. Like damn, you’ve been wondering about how his bed looks like (and feels like… Khm.) for years.

You shake your head to clear it up and make your way to the kitchen; as you move closer to your impromptu work space you find two notes and a newspaper cutout of All Might attached to your drawing.

Okay, that definitely wasn’t there when you fell asleep.

You take the All Might themed sticky tags in your hand to read them;

One says “Thank you for the food! It was awesome! You are the best! Plus Ultra!” The note ended with Pro Hero Deku’s fancy signature which you always wanted to get but never had the chance to. Midoriya probably knew that, hence why he signed it like that instead of writing his name on it. What a legend!

The other note is a bit more messy and contains feedback on your sketch.

“Too many muscles! This is golden age All Might in his Young Age costume! Not realistic! Use the attached picture for reference, it’s the best one I could find! Please take care of it and give it back when you’re done! Thank you!”

You can’t help but giggle. Deku, Number 1 hero of Japan just left All Might themed sticky notes on your silly little sketch.

“Izu-Izu, your twin is weird, but I kinda like him. Don’t be too jealous though!” You mumble to your favorite cardboard cutout who looks really happy next to Midoriya’s massive All Might one; you can see them both perfectly from the kitchen through the massive archway. They are almost holding hands.

You take the little notes into your room and put them on the side of your dresser; you really hope this isn’t a one time thing and you can fill the whole side with Midoriya’s notes and be the only person in the whole world who owns hundreds of sticky notes written by pro Hero Deku. You might even end up in the Guinness Records. That would be super cool!

… okay, let’s focus. You really need to stop fangirling over the guy you live with, it’s creepy as fudge. It may also ruin your chances to form a bond with the greenette and you might end up on the streets then. It’s time to grow up.

With that said, you make your way back to the kitchen to eat something and continue your sketch - well, thanks to Midoriya’s feedback you kinda need to start it all over again but that’s fine.

As you open the fridge door you get a little bit confused; the leftover food from yesterday is completely gone. Not like that’s a bad thing or anything, but the truth is, that food was supposed to be enough for a week. A week. How the heck is it gone already?!

Oh, there is another note on the empty shelf.

“I’m so sorry, the food was too good and I accidentally ate most of it… then I woke up thinking about it and decided to bring the rest of it to work with me…

I’m so selfish, I’m sorry! (*_ _)/\ Please order some takeaway with my card today! Also, sorry about all the notes! Midoriya”

You burst out laughing at this point, scaring poor All Meowt to death when he tries to sneak out from Midoriya’s room to nibble on his food.

Honest to God, this guy can’t be real.

Needless to say, you are NOT going to use that forbidden card you hid away in your night stand, but instead, you’ll make more home cooked food for the hero to enjoy after a hard day of work; you really love cooking, especially when your efforts are appreciated, so this whole shenanigan only makes you happy, to be honest.

You put another meal together and sit down to fix your sketch; you also have enough time to do a rough sketch of the background! And if that’s not enough of an achievement for the day, the food tastes amazing and you actually make it to bed this time, even though you kinda wanted to be taken to your bed like a motherfucking princess by the guy of your dreams (again), but you really don’t want to spoil yourself too much or use the poor, tired hero to fulfill your stupid fantasies.

As you wake up to the lovely morning sun the next day, you are already excited to get some new notes to add to your collection; and just as you expected, there is a new batch of “collectibles” attached to your drawing, but this one…

This one is fucking long.

“Texas smash makes a bigger impact! All Might wouldn’t be able to use Texas smash so close to the sea, the vibrations would cause an earthquake which would cause a tsunami. It’s really dangerous, Y/N!!! Texas smash can also change the weather! Keep that in mind!”

“… well, shit. So basically, my whole idea is trash, thank you very much, Midoriya Izuku.” You sigh into the distance, talking to no one in particular and click your mechanical pencil to the table to ground yourself.

How can you use your idea but be realistic without changing the whole thing up?

Oh, right! 💡

Instead of one picture you decide to make a comic out of this; the main picture stays the same and can be used as a poster but you’ll add a comic strip as an extra, where All Might mumbles “fuck” in an American accent while the massive waves devour the area around him.

Yeah, that will do.

This is how the first week of living with pro Hero Deku goes. You draw, he comments, you fix your shit just so he can find another flaw the next day. When you don’t get a nasty comment on the base, you move on to the colors, naively thinking that nothing can go wrong from here because you are literally staring at a picture of All Might while doing the shading, but apparently you used the wrong shade of yellow on All Might’s hair; shit you not, All Might’s hair had a light shine to it when he was Young, which means that using a darker shade of yellow with a muted, lighter one isn’t “realistic” because you need to use a light pastel yellow for highlights to get the right shade.

You MIGHT HAVE put a bit too much chilli into the chili con carne that day as a silent and respectful “fuck you.”

On the last day before his first day off, you finally finish your masterpiece; you might have been a little bit annoyed with him for all the feedback but honestly, this is your best work yet, so eventually, all the nagging has payed off.

As per usual, you leave the art out on the table, opposite of his freshly made dinner. (Which you safely hid under a massive food cover, because All Meowt is a fucking menace…) You are just about to go to the bathroom to clean yourself up before bed when the main door opens with a loud bang; and by loud bang, you mean “was that a fucking earthquake” kinda bang. You are ready to defend yourself from the intruder with the fucking mop you grabbed with your shaky little hands (it’s 3AM and you are fucking tired, okay?!), when a green fluff of hair comes into your view. Deku stands by the door for a few seconds, takes a deep breath and slides down the door to sit on the floor, leaving a lovely trail of blood on the poor thing, making the hallway look like a murder scene in the process.

“Fuck.” He screams silently to not wake you up; you didn’t think silently screaming is an actual thing but apparently it is; then takes a deep breath to calm down. This guy can’t even swear without looking cute, what the fuck.

“So, am I supposed to scream and call the hospital, or is this an every day thing? I’m not sure how to react, to be honest.” You deadpan, absolutely confused. Midoriya looks up at you then laughs, his smile reaching his eyes in the most adorable way. This guy will be the death of you, bloody or not.

“Sorry, I usually shower before I come back but I was on the field for 9 days, I just couldn’t keep it up anymore. I just wanted to to be home.” That last sentence broke your heart. This poor guy went back into his office to use the shower every single day just for you. He’s such a precious guy.

“You are allowed to come home dirty.” With a random burst of confidence, you sit down next to the injured hero. He looks at you with teary eyes but he still gives you a cheeky smile, clearly appreciating your efforts to make him feel less awkward about the situation. “Midoriya, this is your safe place. Use it. I won’t run away because of some blood.” To make your statement even more credible, you stroke his blood soaked hair gently and his eyes widen at the sudden affection, but he doesn’t move away from it. His eyes fill with more tears, slowly trailing down on his freckled face as he hides his face in your chest in embarrassment; he doesn’t say anything, he just stays there and trembles from the exhaustion and the pent up stress. You try to calm down your racing heart, slowly stroking the hero’s back too soothe him and he melts completely into you; in only a few minutes the trembling stops and his breath evens out to a normal level.

“Y/N?” He mutters into your chest and you can’t believe this whole situation right now. This is way too personal, way too intimate, way too… domestic. The worst part is that it feels so normal; it feels like he belongs here, like he was made to be cuddled by you in the middle of the hallway at 3AM. It just feels… right.

“Hm?” You answer in a whisper; you don’t want to ruin the peaceful atmosphere around you.

“Let’s buy some plants tomorrow. And a bench. And stuff… for the garden.” He mumbles, half asleep. “I want to go shopping. Yeah. I want it.” He murmurs, saying the word ‘want’ like it’s something he’s never done before in his life.

“We CAN do that. We can do anything you want. But if you don’t mind me asking; go have a shower. Please.” You giggle, your hands playing with his curls absentmindedly. He chooses this moment to look up from your chest, right into your eyes; you can’t help the blush spreading on your face from the closeness. By the look of it, Midoriya is not affected by it at all; he just smiles gratefully and goes to his room while your heart does a weird backflip in your chest.

“Can you heat up the food?” He shouts from his room, and that’s when you decide to talk back a bit just to keep the guy in check.

“I ain’t your servant, cheeky young man!” You try your best to sound offended but your laugh betrays you. Midoriya pops his head out of the door, half naked with a mischievous smile on his lips; your heart will definitely give out one day if he keeps doing shit like that.

“Please?” He looks at you with his biggest puppy eyes, his smile not fading for a single second.

Fuck, he could probably ask you to bring the sun over for him and you would happily burn to death while doing so.

“Fuck’s sake, Izu-Izu!” You whine and Midoriya bursts out laughing; it takes you a few seconds to realize what’s so funny, but when you do, your soul leaves your body for a second.

“Did you just call me by your husband’s name? I’m breaking up with you.” Midoriya does a perfect job in acting like a jealous mistress, and while you can’t help but laugh, you are dead inside.

You just called Pro Hero Deku by a pet name; a pet name that belongs to your cardboard cutout of him. And he remembers. Of course, he fucking remembers. Who would be able to forget that awkward conversation?

Ahh, you want to leave the Earth and start a new life on Mars. The language barrier might come in handy; you can’t ruin your life by blabbing bullshit if they can’t understand you, right? Even though, knowing your luck you might be able to ruin everything just with your pure existence.

You really hope the Earth swallows you by the morning. Or like… now.

~•🥦•~

You: I called Midoriya Izu-Izu.

Jirou: I’m not disappointed.

You: I hope you choke on a guitar pick.

Jirou: Rude.

… Next chapter!

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated 🥦

Taglist: @porusuniverse @stickygumchewer

#mha x reader #bnha x reader #midoriya x y/n #midoriya x reader #deku x reader #deku x you #midoriya izuku x you #midoriya izuku x reader #pro hero deku

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