#but a sinking depression kind of mad
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Deep Sea
#ruinecomic#bloodborne#lauryll#laurence bloodborne#runesmith caryll#fanart#if laurence died first and caryll went mad#but a sinking depression kind of mad
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I could be your lifeline
(modern Aegon x fem Reader)
Summary: When you visit Helaena's apartment you find her depressed brother Aegon instead.
Word count: +3100
Warning: 18+ for explicit language and content, handjob, dry humping in the shower (so wet dry humping I guess?), no penetration. Mentions of depression, Aegon is a sad wet puppy.
I missed writing this troubled baby so you guys get some more comfort smut. This was written quickly so forgive me for any mistakes (or kindly point them out to me)
***
You knocked on the door to Helaena’s apartment that afternoon, dropping by just to have a chat as you so often did when you were in the neighborhood. You hadn’t expected to find another Targaryen at the doorstep, one you hadn’t seen in too many years.
For a moment you were too stunned to speak. He looked rough, his hair shorter than it was back when you knew him but still just as messy, his eyes were red and his hoodie wrinkled and about three sizes too big for him. There was no polite way to say it, Aegon looked like shit.
“Hel’s not home,” he spoke, voice as rough as the rest of him.
“Oh, okay, I guess I can come back later then.”
“You’re free to come in and wait, if you want. She shouldn’t be too long.”
“Okay, sure, yeah.”
Aegon stepped aside and let you in.
You immediately noticed the empty beer cans on the kitchen counter, and the dirty dishes in the sink. The tv was playing in the background and the entire room smelled of cigarettes, curtains were closed even though it was 4 in the afternoon on a cloudy day.
“She just went to the store cause we ran out of food,” Aegon explained.
“Okay,” you nodded and took a seat at the kitchen counter.
“Can I…um…get you a drink or something?” he asked.
“Just some water is fine.”
You watched as he grabbed a glass from one of the cabinets and filled it up for you.
“Hel didn’t tell me you were back,” you broke the silence between you two after he handed you the drink.
“I’m not, this is just…temporary.”
“Rehab didn’t stick then?” you nodded towards the empty beer cans all around the kitchen and living room table.
Aegon gave a weak smile,”Nope.”
He kept staring at you with a somewhat confused look on his face.
“You don’t remember me, do you?” you then asked.
“I feel like I should but…sorry, no.”
You told him your name but Aegon still looked at you as if he’d never seen you before in his life.
“I used to sleepover in Hel’s room all the time when we were little,” you explained,”Aemond always ignored me, you always bullied me."
Aegon stared at you for a while longer and then his lips curled up into a hesitant smile.“Aemond ignored you because he had a mad crush on you and didn’t know what to do about it.”
“Is that why you bullied me?”
“Hey, first of all, I never bullied you, I teased you, there’s a difference.”
“Hmm,” you grinned.
He avoided your eyes and you noticed he was blushing a little when he repeated your name,”Of course. I can’t believe I didn’t remember you.”
“It’s been many years, Aegon,” you reassured him,”We were just kids.”
“You look so different.”
“Older.”
“That’s not what I was going to say. You look…really good.”
“Thanks,” you smiled, letting your eyes meet his,”You look…”
“Like shit,” he finished your sentence while he sat down next to you.
“Like life hasn’t been kind to you,” you corrected him.
He nodded his head and sighed, quietly,”Yeah.”
“What happened?” you asked.
“Nothing,” he shrugged,”Depression, anxiety, addiction, pick one. It’s just…all so fucking meaningless, you know? Life’s…I don’t know, sometimes I think I’m just not equipped for it. ”
You took your time to look at him, his face was so pale it looked like he hadn’t seen sunlight in months.
“When did you last leave the house?” you asked.
He shrugged,”What’s the point?”
“When, Aegs?” you insisted.
“It’s been a few days, maybe a week,” he confessed.
“Aegon,” you sighed.
“It’s fine, you don’t…you don’t need to pretend to care.”
“I do care, Hel’s been my best friend since we were kids. You’re important to her, so you’re important to me as well.”
Aegon just shook his head,”But we haven’t been kids in a really long time, haven’t we?”
“No, we haven’t,” you gave him a soft smile.
“You look like you grew up so well. You must have a successful husband and a great career, maybe even soms kids?”
You laughed,”None of those actually, but life’s been okay.”
“That’s good,” Aegon sighed,”I’m glad. At least one of us should do well.”
He stared out in front of him without saying anything else, clearly zoning out of the conversation.
“Listen, why don’t we go for a short walk outside?” you suggested,”Get you some fresh air?”
Aegon looked at you in surprise and for a moment it looked like he was going to take you up on your offer but then his face fell.
“No, I…I can’t go out like this,” he shook his head, withdrawing from you.
“When was the last time you showered?” you asked.
Aegon sighed again,”It’s definitely been a few days, maybe a week.”
“Do you want to shower now?” you tried.
“I…it’s not that I don’t want to but…”
You stood from your seat and carefully took his hand,”Come on.”
“What are you doing?”
“Dragging you to the bathroom.”
Much to your surprise he stood from his seat and followed you towards the hallway and into the bathroom.
You turned on the water of the shower and closed the door behind you both.
Aegon just stood there in the middle of the room without moving, suddenly awkward and shy having you in this private space with him.
This was going to take a little more work than you initially thought.
“Come here,” you slowly grabbed the hem of his hoodie and started pulling it over his head, followed by his t-shirt. Aegon didn’t protest but he wasn’t really cooperating either, letting you pull at his clothes as if he were a doll you were playing with.
You threw his shirt and hoodie in the washing bin and then placed yourself in front of him again, searching to meet his eyes. It took a moment for him to look back at you.
“Hey, this will only take a few minutes, okay, you can do this. You’ll feel better afterwards, I promise.”
Aegon nodded but he still wasn’t making any attempts to take off the rest of his clothes.
You carefully took his hand again, trying to pull him out of his daze,”I can take your pants off for you but maybe that’s something you’d rather do yourself.”
This time his nod was accompanied but the tiniest of smiles and he started pushing down his sweatpants.“Turn around.”
You did as he asked and heard him take off his underwear and socks before he stepped into the shower, the curtain blocking him from your view now.
“You alright in there?” you asked after a while.
There was no answer and you could tell by his shadow that he’d stopped moving again.
“Aegs?” you checked.
“I’m fine,” he eventually answered but even with the water running you could hear his voice was breaking, and the next thing you heard was him crying.
“Shit,” you sighed. “Aegon, are you alright in there?”
No answer, only loud sobs.
You only hesitated for a minute or so before you realized there was only one thing to do if you wanted to pull him out of this funk and finish that shower. You started taking off your clothes and put them in a neat pile on the floor before you reached for the shower curtain, taking a deep breath before slowly pulling it open.
“What are you doing?” Aegon gasped, eyes widening in surprise at your naked form.
“Getting in there with you,” you answered.
“I..what…are you…fuck…,” he stuttered.
“It’s no big deal, we’ve seen each other naked before, we used to go skinny dipping all the time, remember?”
“When we were kids!” he pointed out,”This is not…shit…”
“If I get out again will you start showering?” you asked.
Aegon’s eyes met yours and just like that he was crying again. You closed your eyes with a sigh and opened them again in surprise when you felt Aegon’s hand grab hold of yours. His touch was soft and hesitant and it made you shiver.
“It’s okay,” you whispered comfortingly, squeezing his hand,”We’ll do it together, yeah?”
He nodded and you grabbed one of the bottles from the shelf, putting some shower gel all over your hands before slowly rubbing it over Aegon’s shoulders and chest, arms and stomach. He sighed into your touch and after a few minutes you noticed his breathing was calming down.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered after a while, avoiding your eyes,”I’m so fucking useless…you should’t have to do any of this…”
“Hey,” you placed your hand firmly on his chest and looked into his eyes,”You’re not useless, you’re human and you’re just having a hard time. It’ll be okay, Aegs.”
The sad, desperate look in his eyes was pulling at your heart strings now and you couldn’t help but lean in and rest your forehead against his for a moment, your hand cupping his cheek to wipe away some of his tears. Aegon closed his eyes and leaned into you.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
“Turn around,” you then asked softly, continuing what you’d started and grabbing the bottle of shampoo to wash his hair,”Lean back a little.”
Aegon followed your instructions without speaking but his little drawn out sighs and quiet moans every time you touched him reassured you that whatever you did was helping to make him feel better. And you didn’t want to stop.
He didn’t move the entire time you were washing him. It wasn’t until you’d rinsed the soap off of him and turned off the water that he suddenly reached for your hand again, his voice a soft but firm whisper,”Please, I…it feels so good when you touch me like that…I don’t…please don’t stop.”
Your eyes met his,”Does that help? Physical touch? Is that…”
Aegon nodded firmly, lacing his fingers with yours,”Yes, please, I need to feel you…it quiets my mind…so much…please.”
“Do you want me to take care of you?” you asked softly.
“Yes,” he confessed with tears in his eyes,”I want you to take care of me, please, baby.”
“Okay,” you nodded and you carefully cupped his face with both hands, locking eyes with him,”Okay.”
Aegon sighed in relief and gently placed his hands on your hips, pulling you to him. You shivered at his touch again.
“Can I hug you?” you asked.
“Yes,” Aegon breathed eagerly and he closed the distance between you both, pushing his body up against yours. You wrapped both arms around his neck and hugged him.
You’re not sure how long you stood there like that, Aegon’s hands caressing your back and his head resting on your shoulder as you just held him close to you, threading your fingers through his hair.
He was breathing steadily now, calm and quiet, but after some time you could feel his heart starting to race against yours and his breathing gradually speeding up again. And then you felt something poking against your inner thigh.
He was rock hard.
You didn’t say anything at first, not wanting to pull him out of this content haze he seemed to be in. Maybe it was just a physical reaction and he wasn’t even aware of it. You didn’t want him to feel embarrassed or self conscious about it. You had come in here to make him feel better and that was still your only goal.
But when he moved his hips against yours and let out a quiet whimper you couldn’t deny it any longer.
You leaned back to cup his cheek and look at him,”Aegs?”
“Hmm?”
“You alright?” you asked softly.
“Yeah, I’m…oh shit, I’m so sorry!” he stepped back from you when he realized what happened.
“It’s okay,” you kept your hands on his shoulders, not wanting him to pull away completely,”It’s okay, don’t worry about it.”
“No, it’s not okay, I’m making you so fucking uncomfortable, I’m so sorry, I’m such a fucking idiot, I can’t do anything right,” he was starting to spiral again and you quickly pulled him closer, cupping his neck and forcing him to look back at you.
“I’m okay, Aegs,” you repeated, looking deep into his eyes,”Hey, look at me, I’m okay, I promise you. I’m not uncomfortable.”
Aegon stared at you for a moment. “You’re not?” he then whispered.
You shook your head and smiled at him,”No, in fact…”
You slowly moved your hand down, across his chest and then his stomach, watching his reaction to see if there was any objection from his side. But Aegon didn’t object, instead his lips opened in a deep sigh and his eyes closed in pure bliss when your hand followed his happy trail and your fingers gently wrapped around his cock.
Aegon’s moan was the filthiest thing you’d ever heard and it went straight to your core. You started stroking him, slow and gentle.
“Fuck,” he moaned, followed by a quiet whimper of your name.
He was big and throbbing in your hand already.
“Does this help make you feel better?” you asked, keeping your eyes locked with his as you continued pumping him, letting your thumb run over its leaking tip.
“Yes,” Aegon nodded firmly,”Oh god, fuck, yes…it’s been so long since…god, please don’t stop, don’t ever stop…”
His hands were caressing your back again, nails digging into your skin while he buried his head against your shoulder. His breath was coming out in quiet little whimpers, hot as fire against your wet skin.
“That’s it,” you encouraged him, slowly building up a rhythm as you jerked him closer and closer to his release.”Relax for me, baby, just give into it, let yourself feel good,” you whispered into his ear, your free hand caressing his hair again.
Aegon’s body was shaking, he was breathing so hard in between moaning and whimpering you couldn’t help but wonder when he last had someone touch him like this.
He was crying out your name again, his teeth grazing your collarbone. “Please, please, please,” he whimpered,”I need to…fuck…”
You stroked him faster, bringing his cock in between your legs so you could rub your clit on its head and that was the final push Aegon needed. He came with a loud cry, spilling all over you, his cock nestled against your folds as you milked him for every last drop. He pulled you into his arms, holding you close while your body kept moving against his, involuntarily seeking friction.
You closed your eyes and tried to control your breathing, feeling guilty now for your own needs because this was never about that. You had only wanted to make him feel good and nothing more. But your body was betraying you, turning you into a horny mess desperate for some relief of your own.
“Fuck,” you breathed,”I’m sorry. I didn’t meant to…”
“Shhh,” Aegon whispered, moving his hand in between your legs to play with your clit,”I got you.”
His eyes met yours, neither of you looking away as he started circling your swollen bud. It didn’t take him long to have you moaning his name and bucking up into his hand.
“You close, sweetheart?” he breathed.
“So close,” you nodded, biting your lip to keep from moaning too loud,”Please, Aegs.”
Aegon pushed you up against the shower wall, his fingers continuing to bring you towards that edge while his lips brushed your ear,”Come for me then, sweetheart, soak my fingers, come on, give it to me.”
It was all you needed. Aegon held you through every last wave of it, letting you ride out your orgasm on his fingers. You clung to his shoulders, keeping yourself steady. Your heavy whimpers turned into quiet little breaths as you relaxed in his arms.
“There you go, baby,” he whispered against your lips, a sweet smile emerging on his flushed face as he nuzzled your cheek,”There you go, sweetheart.”
“Thank you,” you breathed.
“Oh no, thank you,” he whispered,”God, I needed that, I needed that so bad.”
You could hear the emotion return to his voice as he hugged you tighter so you reciprocated, holding him close and burying your face into his neck.
“Can we just stay like for a while?” he begged softly,”Just…stay with me, please.”
You nodded, allowing yourself to disappear into his hug, not sure who needed it more in this moment, you or him.
When you eventually leaned back to look at him Aegon’s eyes were on you instantly.
“I meant it, you know,” he whispered,”Thank you. You didn’t have to do any of this. I don’t deserve…”
“You deserve to have everything you want in life, Aegon,” you interrupted him,”You deserve to be happy.”
His smile was the saddest one you had ever seen and he broke eye contact to shake his head,”I haven’t been happy in so long I don’t even remember what it feels like.”
You leaned into him, caressing his hair and his neck.
“But today was good,” he then smiled softly, meeting your eyes,”Being with you was…unexpected, like a beautiful ray of sunlight coming out on a really dark cloudy day.”
You couldn’t help but smile,”Look at you getting all poetic.”
Aegon laughed and it surprised you how much you loved the sound of it.
He pressed his forehead against yours and you were suddenly very aware of his breath on your lips. He hugged you closer.
“Could stay here forever,” he then whispered.
“Me too,” you confirmed.
Aegon closed the final distance between you both and pressed his lips to yours in a soft, lingering kiss.
“Stay the night with me,” he then pleaded.
You kissed him back and nodded with a smile,”On one condition though.”
“Name it.”
“You go out for a walk with me first, get that much needed fresh air.”
Aegon sighed but nodded his head,”Yeah, alright, you can drag me around town for hours if that’s what you want, as long as you come back here with me afterwards.”
“I will, I promise,” you whispered and pulled him close, your lips brushing his ear,”I won’t leave you, I promise, baby.”
You could feel his tears against your cheek, but they were accompanied by a big sigh of relief as Aegon buried his face into the crook of your neck and breathed you in.
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I think not enough people have come to talk to you about chubby Hob. So I am here to push the chubby!Hob agenda!!
Human au maybe, where Hob has a long and storied past. He was homeless for a bit, he was food insecure for longer. And now that he's settled and secure in a decent flat with a good job (maybe this is an au where he's the chef at the New Inn?) He has to keep his pantry full. And he always cleans his plate. No leftovers in this house. He was intense about it for a while and it was maybe hoarding and binging, but he's got it mostly under control now. He just likes to know he won't go hungry. The side effect of this is he's put on some weight. He's got a belly, his thighs and arms are thick. He's honestly pretty happy with it, since it's more proof he isn't starving anymore.
Enter Dream. Dream is depressed and introverted at the best of times. But he's just gotten out of an abusive workplace that had him so anxious he wasn't eating and hes... kind of forgotten food can be enjoyable. Death takes him to the New Inn to get him out more, to coax him into trying something new. Dream orders the safest sounding thing on the menu. Something simple. And when it comes out it smells amazing, and when Dream picks off the tiniest bite to try it, it's incredible. He's ruined for this dish from anywhere else. Death watches him eat an entire plate of food for the first time in months and insists the chef come out so they can thank him personally.
And Hob and Dream lock eyes and sparks fly. Dream comes back and orders the same dish every day for lunch for 2 weeks until one day Hob sends out the usual and an extra side. The waiter hands him a napkin from Hob to go with the side that has "trust me" written on it in sharpie. And that's how Dream starts trying more things on the menu. Until one day Dream asks the waiter what dish he's been given to try today and the waiter says it isn't on the menu. They'll go ask Hob about it. Hob comes out and says it's an exclusive that Dream will only see again if he let's Hob take him on a date and cook him dinner personally.
🍰🐲
I see the words Chubby Hob, I light up like a christmas tree.
I love the idea of Hob being the new inn's chef, that feels so perfect! I bet he would find a lot of comfort in having this kitchen which is just as well stocked as his own kitchen upstairs, full of ingredients, and he can cook all day and make himself snacks and little meals during the quiet spots in the day, and also snacks for all the staff members. It soothes the part of his brain that is still cold and scared. And he doesn't mind that he'll always have a bit of a thing about food, because he's safe now. He can eat nice things and buy new jeans when he needs a size up. It's all good.
And when he sees Dream, he implicitly wants to make everything ok for him. And make food for him. Hot pies, lasagna, fish and chips. He just wants Dream to feel warm and safe, like Hob does now! It's not like he can fix everything, but maybe he can give Dream a little bit of hope?
Ultimately it doesn't take much to convince Dream to shyly head up the stairs to Hob’s flat, and sit at the kitchen table in the warm lamplight while Hob cooks dinner for them both. Hob even baked biscuits for Dream to nibble while he waits. Maybe while he's exploring the flat Dream finds a few pictures of a hollow cheeked, painfully thin looking Hob, and everything starts to make sense.
They have a little cuddle on the sofa after dinner, and Dream gets to curl up against Hob’s warm soft belly. He feels very safe there, with Hob’s arms wrapped around him. He likes the way Hob is padded and squishy with no hard edges, and Dream can just sink into him. Neither of them are really thinking about sex but much later, Dream will definitely fantasise about grabbing that soft belly, maybe rutting against it, maybe biting it.....
And maybe he'll get a little healthy meat on his bones too. Dream definitely wouldn't be mad about it if the results of all Hob’s good food start to show on his body. In fact, he might be a bit proud.
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FUN IDEIA ALERT!!!
FUN IDEIA ALERT!!!
Spoopy season requires spoopy things
sooo i was kinda of thinking Ghost!child reader with the gang (platonic, always!)
Lemme explain it to ya, So i wanted to see some hc of an spirit child reader whos soul got stuck into the digital circus, how, you say? Lets say that in the moment that reader putted the headset something fell in their head, killing them instantly, since reader was wearing the Headset, instead of their body and conscience go to the digital circus, their soul got there! Their appearance being something peaceful and pleasing to the eye, like Reader's appearance are a child covered in white robes with some gold details and a flower crown. But reader's eyes represent constant sadness, like there are always rivers of tears falling off their eyes who (strangely) doesnt make a mess on the floor, kinda like Gangle's tears but more sad
If you go close enough to Reader you can hear multiple whispers, inaudible ones cuz its multiple whispers at one time but only Reader can understand them. If they question what the whispers says, Reader will say: "its the voices lamenting." In a full echoish-whisperish voice.
BUUT theres more!
Since reader is a spirit they can lift things with their mind, dim the lights and go invisible (ghost things)
Reader rarely express any other emotion than sadness, but when they snap... OH BOI
Reader will go full hostile mode, their appearance distorts into something really creepy, like their eyes will go full pitch black and the tears turns into some glitchy goo, their robes getting slightly black in the edges, Reader will start throwing things around with their mind and scream loud as hell, basically like a ghost tantrum.
Im very excited with this ideia AAAA
- 🦇
Crying child
Ik that isn't what you meant. But the first thing my mind went to is the crying children from fnaf. Also this sounds honestly really hard to write for. I ain't gonna just not write it though.
I wasn't really sure if you wanted headcannons or a oneshot. But this felt like a more oneshot-ish request so I did that.
TADC Crew x Child Ghost Reader
You were one of the first people to arrive at the digital circus. You were around 6 when you first arrived and are now much older. But being trapped here as well as being dead had taken it's toll on your young mind so you still act around the same as when you first arrived. Still easily excitable, still gullible, still sad.
You really were like a ghost. Not only because you were literally a ghost but you rarely spoke unless spoken to and would just quietly float around an endless stream of tears falling from your eyes. You also had the tendency to just stare at people.
You had an aura of sadness around you. The occasional quiet sob and endless depressed whispers that always followed you around made it hard to be around you for long periods of time. Their's a lot of mental problems in the circus already, and you sure as hell ain't gonna help.
When you are happy, which is rare you're quite nice to be around. The tears and whispers stop and you really do feel like just a normal kid to the others. Now anger is a different story. When you're angry Caine has to actually lock you up cause you've killed a few people.
Your usual appearance resembles a fallen angel. Snapped halo, dirtied once pristine white robes lined with gold. But when you're angry it flips. Your robes singe at the edges leaving behind a brownish blood red color your halo sinks into your head and is replaced by a single broken pure red horn.
The fact that your soul is in the circus makes you have some kind of power. You don't really use it cause you don't know how. But when you're mad at someone it is proper time to freak out because you've deleted a few people. You always feel horrible afterwards but their isn't anything you can do for them.
The ones who have been abstracted at least have a chance of being helped. The ones you deleted not so much. So in the rare occurrence that you're around everyone they do their best to keep you calm, and to keep Jax away from you (He doesn't believe you're a threat.)
(Another kind of strange request. Sorry if this isn't good. I just didn't really know what to write. I did my best though. Hope you enjoyed it.)
xoxo, Jester
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John Lennon x Reader - Calendar
Summary: As their PA, you need to know what they're doing over a free weekend. The only one proving difficult is John — who has a surprise.
A/N: a longer one! Enjoy! Requested by @kuroihinawari!
---
Your job was simple. You filled in paperwork, made sure paperwork made it to the band, was signed, and returned promptly. You got them drinks and food when they were recording or waiting for an interview. You even, on the odd occasion, did their laundry. But that wasn't strictly part of your job description.
So, you wondered, why John Lennon had to make your workday as difficult as possible.
If you needed him to sign something, he was nowhere to be found, or he'd argue that he'd already signed it. When he denied a drink or food and you got everyone else something, he'd suddenly ask for some, causing you to have to go back and forth. You had realised that if he wasn't so attractive, you'd have gone mad by now.
It's not like he was never nice to you, though. In fact, you found him to be so incredibly charming and funny that he regularly had your cheeks aching from smiling. Sometimes, when you'd walk in to the room, he'd compliment you and your face would flush. You even received a few small gifts from him, usually for your birthday or after an event of some kind.
But that didn't stop John being... John.
A rare weekend off was coming up, and you had been asked to find out their plans. Ringo had very happily told you that he was staying home, George the same, and Paul said he was going to visit family with the wife. All of these interactions were pleasant, and you left them with a smile on your face.
But John? Not so much. When you asked the first time, he'd told you he was too busy. So, you left and told him you'd ask again later. Which is what you did, scouring the halls to find the elusive man. Ultimately, you found him tucked away in an office space.
You knocked on the door, waiting until he looked up and acknowledged you to enter.
"Hello, Mr. Lennon," You greeted, chirpy as ever in his eyes. For you, it was rather strained. It wasn't because of fear, but rather nerves. He just made youa little nervous.
"Hello," He greeted, cigarette meeting his lips so that he could take a drag. "You've found me, then."
"You didn't make it easy," You lightly joked, and you eased at the smirk tugging at his lips. "I'm just wondering what you're doing over the weekend?"
John peered at you through the circular lenses of his glasses, brows ever so slightly knitted together. It was the beginnings of John's annoyance, you figured. His lingering smile said otherwise.
"What are you doing this weekend?" He challenged, eyeing you expectantly.
That caught you off guard. Nobody had asked you yet, and the thought of the depressing weekend coming up was almost soul crushing. It was your birthday. You had no plans, and nobody to spend it with. Honestly, it embarrassed you greatly to have to admit to one of the most famous men in the world that you were alone on such a day.
"It's my birthday," You answered simply.
"Party then?"
"No. I'll be on... on my own, Mr. Lennon," You spoke so quietly, you wondered if he'd heard you.
But he did, and his brows arched and eyes briefly grew wide. His eyes lapped you up from head to toe, as if deciphering if you were being genuine. Upon realising that, yes, you were, his head tilted. And you swore you wanted to sink into the carpet the moment a hint of pity filled his gaze.
"How come?"
"I think it's pretty self explanatory," You gave a pathetic laugh, trying to play it off. "I don't have anyone to celebrate with."
John grew quiet then, eyes fixating onto the cigarette in his hand. The air grew thick with something other than pity, borderline suffocating. It was heavy, weighed you down like you were wearing metal shoes. You felt unable to move, unsure if whatever the silence was filled with was worth ruining.
But you had to. It was your job, after all.
"So, what's your plans, Mr. Lennon?"
"Come back to me," He dismissed once again, offering a smile unlike the last time he'd dismissed you earlier that day. "I promise I'll have it then."
"Okay. I'll see you later then, Mr. Lennon—"
"—John. You can call me John, love."
Your cheeks grew warm, the telltale sign of your blush as your lips tried to part into a grin. But you willed your body to calm down, that you should be used to this by now.
"I'll speak to you later, John."
"I'll be seeing you later," He nodded, watching as you left.
The rest of the day was uneventful; Ringo lost his sunglasses, so you scoured the dressing room to find them, Paul couldn't find his spare guitar strings, and George... George was fine, actually. Polite as always. But John was quieter than usual, a fact commented on by his bandmates and noticed in the lack of voices.
You thought very little of it, popping in and out to do your duties. You were passing time, watching the clock until the end of the day.
The moment the clock struck, you were on the prowl for John. Nobody knew where he was, and you were very quickly at your wit's end. Eventually, after your fifth circle of the building, you decided to just ask tomorrow. It was cutting it fine, really, but better then than never, right?
You collected your things, bid farewell to your colleagues (the boys included), and headed out to your car. You searched for your pack of cigarettes as you walked out of the main door, retrieving one to slip between your lips. As you looked up, your brows furrowed at the mass leaning against your car.
As you came nearer, you recognised the shadow as John. With a cigarette on the go and smile wide, he offered a flame out to you before you could question him. Offering a thankful smile of your own, you allowed him to light you up.
"I was looking for you, you know," You announced finally, hesitantly meeting his gaze.
And when you did, you swore your heart stopped. He was piercing into you, swallowing you whole. If not for your denial of anything happening between you two, you would've swore there was desire in his eyes.
He gasped at your words, a hand raising to cover his mouth. "Have I been a bad boy?"
"No," You giggled. You swore you never giggled until you met John. "It's about your plans for the weekend."
"Well, (Y/N), that depends," John said it so casually that you almost missed what he said. You watched with furrowed brows as he took a final drag of his cigarette and dropped it to the floor.
"On?" You felt stupid to ask, thinking you were walking into another mischievous John joke.
"If I can join you for your birthday."
He flashed teeth as he watched your expression cycle through many; surprised, confused, happy, and ending with cautious.
"Excuse me, John?" You managed without stuttering, heart pounding loud in your ears and making you struggle for breath.
"Well, I was wondering if I'd be able t' join you for your birthday," He reiterated, speaking a little clearer to gently make fun.
"...why? I'm sure you've got better things to be doing," You dropped your cigarette, not wanting it anymore, and instead began playing with your fingers. A nervous habit that John noticed right away.
"To be honest with you, I have no plans for the weekend. And seeing as it's your birthday, I thought I'd make a plan with you," His smile turned a little bit softer, more genuine. "Two attractive people, some tea, and a nice evening to finish it off."
All you got from that was the fact he had called you attractive. John Lennon thought that you were attractive. A part of you wanted to dance, or scream, or do something. But all you could do was stand there, blushing, eyes wide.
"You think I'm attractive?"
Why did you ask that? Your entire internal self was cringing into itself. You watched as he gave a short laugh and a nod, reaching out to take your hand in his.
"I think you're stunnin'," He bought your hand to his lips, leaving a kiss on the back. "And I'd love to spend your birthday with you."
"Yeah... yeah, okay," You nodded, cradling your hand to your chest when he let go. You gave him a warming smile, one that had his heart stopping this time. "I'll give you my address tomorrow, if you'd like?"
"Sounds good t' me!" He pushed off of your car, approaching you with a smirk. He leaned in, and your heart skipped a beat as you thought he'd kiss you, but instead his lips found your ear, "I've been waiting to spend some time with you."
And with that, he bid you farewell and began walking over to his car. It was only after a cool breeze hit you did you spin on your heels to face him again.
"John!" You called out, making him turn to you as well. "I think you're attractive, too!"
John offered a wave, walking backwards, "I know!"
#the beatles x reader#John Lennon x Reader#Here it is!! 🥰#ringo starr x reader#george harrison x reader#paul mccartney x reader
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hi! love your work <3 can i request some headcanons about living with matt and mello (together) it can me romantic or platonic, i dont mind either way ! tysm :)
that pic came out so low quality for some reason
thank you so much :’) i tried to do a mix and include a little bit of romance for each but i’d say it’s mainly general/platonic. i reaaaaally self indulged here
-matt and mello x gn! reader
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living with matt and mello hcs ❦
matt
-messy asf. he doesn’t do it on purpose but he’s just so unorganised and has a messy room and just causes chaos wherever he walks. that being said, he does know where everything is which pisses mello off SO MUCH. mello also routinely berates him for his mess
‘matt, what the hell is this on the counter?’
‘umm… the end of a cigarette?’
‘WE HAVE FUCKING ASHTRAYS FOR A REASON.’
-he is probably the one who is at home the most. he doesn’t like going outside, he just sits in and plays video games or watches tv. he only does anything productive if he reaaally has to
-that being said, you have to drag him out sometimes to avoid him getting too depressed from just sitting doing nothing for days. if you can’t motivate him then mello will gladly accept the challenge and come through without fail.
-matt is deeply appreciative of how thoughtful you and mello are, as roommates but also as friends. how well you know him, how easy it is for you to see what he needs when he’s at his lowest. once, (probably when he was drunk) and falling asleep on your chest, he expressed this out loud for the first time and you almost wanted to sob at his words. he comes off as someone who’s always so casual and sometimes maybe even awkward, so hearing this was a shock but a good one.
-if matt isn’t sleeping or sitting on the couch playing video games, he is probably lying on the floor or just doing weird shit. i can imagine mello coming home and just seeing matt doing a handstand against the wall, watching something (5 minute crafts) on his phone on the floor.
-dyes his hair often and changes up his look very frequently, so very often you find yourself following the smell of cigarettes only to the open bathroom door and find matt looking like patrick bateman due to him washing off his hair dye in the sink (cigarette still lit in his mouth, it’s basically a party trick at this point)
-whenever you have to go out he drags you back to bed and holds you as tight as he can with a smirk on his face
-whether you’re a smoker or not, you often light his cigarettes for him and it ends up being a much more intimate gesture than you anticipated. mello tells you to get a room
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mello
-he’s out of the house the most between the three of you but that’s kind of a given. lots of work to do you know being in the mafia and all, that kind of casual stuff…
-idk where i’m going with this or how to even explain it any more, but he always makes a conscious effort to keep alcohol in the house at all times like he is always just coming home with a bottle of something
-has lots of cool rock/metal posters in his room and when he’s not in his usual leather clothes he’s wearing band tees (u and matt steal them frequently and he pretends to be mad)
-honestly i want to say (solely for comedic effect) that he absolutely despises the smell of cigarettes in the house. you’ve never seen desperation like the kind mello exhibits when he begs matt to PLEASE SMOKE OUT OF A WINDOW.
-there is 100% a designated cupboard that is full to the brim with chocolate. all the same brand, flavour, type, whatever. literally everything. it’s all identical.
-when he’s feeling down about messing something up, even if it’s the smallest thing, he gets really really emotional and will immediately go to his room. he probably doesn’t cry often unless it’s angry tears but he doesn’t want even his most trusted people to see him like that. however you always know what to do, you leave him be but then convince him that he should let out his thoughts later, in a kind way of course. matt also helps him to feel better at times but you’re definitely there to bring him his chocolate and give him lots of hugs and kisses. he doesn’t speak too emotionally, but i can imagine a very soft ‘thank you’ after you help him
-blasts metal at 9am. no further comments
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both/all three of you
-matt cuts mello’s hair and mello occasionally dyes matt’s. matt gets so into it he thinks he’s a little hairdresser. they’ve also given each other piercings, they have about a 40% success rate. they’ve offered to give you one but you very politely decline. you always have to supervise in these situations because god knows what is going to happen with these two
-it is extremely common to have mini sleepovers in each others rooms. this is another thing that matt just gets a little TOO into, he wants the full shabam. he’s looking for matching pyjamas, chick flicks on the tv, endless snacks, and pillow fights. by that i mean he just starts relentlessly beating you and mello with a pillow without warning
-matt likes to shake you and mello awake at an ungodly hour and declare that you are going for a drive. he never actually plans anything for these drives, sometimes you don’t actually do anything but you enjoy them nonetheless. however it is extremely hard to get mello out of bed at a time he hasn’t decided on.
-you do the cooking, purely for everybody’s safety. mello likes to think he’s gordon ramsay but he fucks up the most basic things. matt is just a natural hazard with most things
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#death note#mail jeevas#mello#mihael keehl#matt#matt x reader#mail jeevas x reader#mello x reader#mihael keehl x reader#death note x reader#death note headcanons#i had to include redhead matt at some point
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📖"The Taste of You"
Rating: Explicit
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes
Tags: Fresh AU, dark rom-com, dark!Bucky, pre-serum Steve, cannibalism, kidnapping, yandere/basement wife, meet cute-ish, gay sex n' stuff, dub-con
Summary: Just when he's given up on ever finding Mr. Right, Steve meets the - seemingly - perfect guy at the grocery store.
A dark, cute, funny, fucked up, and very tasty love story.
A.N.: It's not as murdery as it sounds 😅 But, as per usual: minors DNI.
It's a Fresh AU. "If you can't handle the cannibalism, get out of the kitchen"--or something like that
1. Specialty Ingredients
Steve watches, mouth literally hanging open, as it happens again: his date is stomping away, mad.
He just called Steve a scrawny, cock-teasing twink for making out a little on the sidewalk, but then declining to go back to his place to hook up. The guy pressed the issue and Steve got frustrated and told him tersely that he wasn't interested because they just met, okay? That went over like a lead balloon.
Steve scowls as the jerk disappears around the corner at the end of the block. “Well fuck you too,” he mutters, feeling put out—and okay, a little hurt, too. He’s not a cocktease. He’s not scrawny.
Well, maybe that second one is kind of true, but Steve hates how guys will act like they’re into his small stature when they think he’s a sure thing, but then get all derogatory and mean about it once he tries to tell them he’s looking for more than a hookup and wants to take it slow—and not even hetero people slow; gay guy slow, which is super fast in comparison! Steve just wants to get to know a guy for once before sleeping with him. Is that really so bad?
He huffs and turns around, walking dejectedly back to his car. Another handsome asshole, another hope dashed, another pathetic date. He really does have the worst luck, and he’s getting plain sick of it. He checks his phone before he drives away.
Clint: Well???
Steve sighs. He types back a reply to his friend
Steve: another dud
Clint: dude …
Steve rolls his eyes and chucks the phone onto the passenger seat. He turns the key in the ignition, the radio coming on to an old eighties love ballad that just worsens his sense of dejection. “Fucking figures,” he mutters, putting the car into drive.
He leaves the song playing though, because sometimes wallowing is called for.
The next morning, Steve wakes up in a glum mood. He tries to focus on his work for most of the day, rather than his horrible luck with dating, but as he paints the hours away he winds up pouting about it anyhow. He sinks further and further into a depressing pit of self-pity and despair.
Clint texts him, asking if he wants to go out and sing karaoke or something, and Steve knows he’s just trying to cheer him up and all, but he really can’t stand the thought of being cheerful right now.
Steve hates gay guys, he thinks, stomping over to the crappy small sink in his crappy small apartment’s kitchen. He runs the water and rinses off his brushes with a vengeance they don’t deserve. Gay guys suck. Steve hates how shallow they all are, how vapid and self-centered. All they want is to go clubbing and fuck around and that’s it. None of them want a real relationship, and they think Steve is boring for wanting to have a meaningful conversation instead of suck their dicks right away. He gets grumpier about it the more he thinks, and he even has the thought that at least if he were straight he could find someone with feelings, a desire for genuine connection. “Gay guys suck,” he mutters to his poor, abused paint brushes.
Nevermind that Steve himself is incontrovertibly homosexual and has no choice in the matter of what his dating pool consists of. After all: ‘Haters gonna hate, players gonna play’. “Gaays gonna gay, gay, gay, gay, gay.” Steve sings the tune under his breath. He just hates it, hates it all. He’s sick and tired of playing the game.
He sends Natalie a nastily self-deprecating text:
Steve: Know any of your girlfriends who might want to date a faggot?
It’s not nice, and he knows she won’t like him using that word in that context.
Natalie Potential Rich!! Buyer: another douche huh?
He sighs and texts back an apology with a huggy emoji.
Steve: Sorry 🤗 Just frustrated. All the good ones are taken and I’m not interested in the skanks who’re left over.
Natalie responds with the “Give that man a Snickers” Diva-meme, which makes Steve realize that he is, in fact, hungry. He needs to get something to eat. He needs to focus on himself for a change. Maybe it’s finally time to stop looking for Mr. Right and just enjoy Steve Rogers. Maybe he should join a gym, start a new hobby, anything to fill up his time with himself rather than another person.
He goes into the kitchen, thinking that he’ll make something yummy and binge watch a new series off his Netflix list, but scowls at the barren interior that greets him when he opens the fridge door. Nothing good to eat. “Fuck,” he mutters. He’s got to go to the grocery store now before he can sit down with a meal and relax.
And it’s raining outside, too. Just his fucking luck.
His phone ‘pings’ and he looks over at where he’d set it on the counter. The screen is lit up with a new notification from Grindr:
Henry super liked you!
He picks up the phone and opens the app. Henry’s profile pic is only from the neck down, showing off his abs. Steve rolls his eyes. The next picture is his lower half, a pair of tighty-whities stretched over his erection making it lewd, but still within the app’s no dick pic rules. The third pic is of his bare ass in a jockstrap.
Steve spends a second more than he intends appreciating the guy’s backside, but then he growls and jabs his finger at the screen to reject the guy. He’s fucking fed up with this entire thing! On a sudden, right-feeling whim, he exits the app and holds his finger down on the screen until all the icons start wiggling with their little x’s. He quickly proceeds to delete Grindr, Scruff, and Hornet from his phone.
He’s fucking done with dating. He’s giving up. Steve is just not meant to find Mr. Right. Not this year, anyway. He feels lighter after deleting the apps, and he slides his unburdened phone into his pocket with a sense of accomplishment and a shiny new idea: He’s not going to date for a whole year. He’s going to make this The Year of Steve.
Fuck yeah.
He goes to the hall closet to grab his umbrella and rain boots.
The walk to FreshMart is only four blocks from his apartment, but he still arrives at the grocery store a little damp from the gusting rain. He shakes off his umbrella by the door, grabs a basket, and directs himself towards the produce aisle. He’s added fingerling potatoes and some asparagus spears to his basket, and has just started perusing the meat section when he hears a man’s voice say,
“Hey, have you ever had this?”
Steve looks over. The guy is holding up a package of bloody red … something. Steve blinks. “Um …”
The stranger twists his lips and shakes his head, looking at the meat. “It’s venison. I thought I’d freak my sister out with something a little different.”
“Your sister?” Steve asks, feeling very odd at being asked his opinion in the middle of the meat department. He looks between the package of raw meat and the stranger—He’s unusually handsome, tall and strong-jawed, brown hair styled in an effortlessly flattering cut. Steve licks his lips nervously. “Um, isn’t that like, deer meat?” He takes a step closer to peer down at the label. “Huh.” He didn’t know regular grocery stores sold that kind of thing. “That’s … exotic,” he says, for lack of a better word.
The stranger chuckles. “Yeah, well. I actually don’t eat animals, so …” he shrugs. “But her and her husband and kids are total carnivores. Thought I’d bring something other than my usual bottle of wine.”
“Oh.” Steve peers up at the man, trying to figure him out. The man smiles sheepishly and Steve winds up smiling, charmed, if somewhat baffled. He looks the man in the eyes and is taken by how pretty they are, how intense. Damn he’s good looking. “Well I, ah, couldn’t tell you what it tastes like. I’ve never had it.” He makes a face. “Like I said, it’s exotic.”
“Oh I love to cook with exotic ingredients. I’m kind of an amateur cuisinier. Or at least I try to be.”
“Oh. Right.” Steve gestures to the blood package. “But you ah … you don’t cook only vegetarian stuff?”
The man grins (and shoot, he’s got an unfairly attractive smile, too). “I guess I just like to satisfy other people’s appetites,” he says, lips parted enticingly. And then his tongue darts out in this totally casual, should-be-illegal sort of way. “I take it you’re a meat eater,” he says knowingly.
Is that a double entendre? Steve thinks it might be a double entendre. Yes! he wants to scream. Yes! He is 1000% a meat eater. He gulps as the guy’s eyes flick down and back up his body in a heated onceover, and Steve may not always be the brightest bulb in the box, but he can tell when he’s being considered. Is this guy really flirting with him? Here? In the freaking grocery store? Is that even a real thing that happens, anymore? Steve flushes and pulls his shopping basket up higher in front of himself, like a shield. “I–I see,” he stammers. “Well … um … yeah.” God, he’s hopeless.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Venison’ll probably be … different.” He nods at the stranger, awkward and aware that the other man isn’t moving away. “Well. Good luck.” He turns and vacantly peruses the meats, pretending that he’s more invested in searching out the perfect porkchop than he really is. He hears the guy’s footsteps moving away.
“Fuck it,” the man says, and turns right back around. He takes a deep breath. “I like your boots.”
“What?”
The guy nods downwards. “Your rain boots. They’re really cute.”
Steve looks down at his feet. His rubber boots are pink and printed with the golden girls’ faces. He looks back up at the stranger, stunned. No straight guy on planet Earth would ever say such a thing. “Um. Thanks.”
The guy holds out his hand, friendly, like he’s not aware he’s acting weird as shit. “I’m James.”
Steve probably stares too long at the offered hand, before he hurries to shove the handles of his shopping basket up onto his one arm so that he can take the guy’s—James’—hand and shake it. It’s pleasantly large over his own hand. “Steve.”
James smiles. He’s arrestingly handsome when he doesn’t smile and Steve feels like an even weaker creature when he does. “Sorry,” James says, looking down shyly. “I uh, I don’t usually do this.”
“Do what?” Steve asks, keenly aware that he may just be about to be propositioned. He winces at the idea of having to turn down another good-looking jerk.
James tilts his head. “Would you …” He hesitates, eyes flicking up and over as a woman passes them. She turns and goes down the soda aisle. He looks back to Steve, distracted. “I was gonna be crazy and ask for your number,” he says, flushing. Steve doesn’t even get a chance to say anything before James is scrubbing his hand over his embarrassed face. “Fuck, I’m sorry. You’re probably not even—” He looks back to the soda aisle where the woman had gone. “Sorry,” he mumbles again, and starts to walk away. “Human disaster in the meat aisle. Just ignore me, please.”
“Wait!” Steve blurts. James turns back around. “Why do you want my number? Were you gonna ask me out? Like on a date?” He uses the word purposefully.
“Well, yeah.” James looks apologetic. “Sorry. I know it’s weird.”
It is weird. But Steve is kind of charmed by the guy’s odd methods. He promptly pushes away his resolution of The Year of Steve. “James,” he says, taking a step closer. “Um, you can. Have my number.” He peeks up at him shyly. “If you want.”
James' happy-surprised-enthused smile is the best one yet. They exchange numbers.
Clint: Wait, wat do you mean, the grocery store??
Steve: he came over and just started talking to me.
Clint: … that’s weird, man. That’s shady.
Steve: actually it was kind of cute. Kind of idk old fashioned.
Clint: Kind of weird. Whats his Insta?
Steve doesn’t hear from James for almost three days. He alternates between finding it refreshing, and being disappointed. Maybe Clint’s right. Maybe the guy was just a weirdo.
Then, on the third day, Steve is leaving from his morning shift at Michaels when he hears his phone ‘ping’ with a notification. When he sees the name “Weird Meat Guy” on the screen, his face splits in a grin.
Weird Meat Guy: Been thinking about you since the other day.
Happy butterflies come to life in Steve’s stomach at the flirtatious tone of the text. His first instinct is to force himself to ignore it for at least thirty minutes, so that he doesn’t seem overeager. But then he thinks, fuck it, just like James had said in the grocery store before turning right back around to ask him out.
Steve types a reply.
Steve: hey stranger. Yeah I was wondering how that venison worked out for you. 😂What’s it taste like?
Weird Meat Guy: I don’t eat animals, not even for my sister’s Sunday dinners. But she said it was fine. Not as good as regular old cow, though🐄🥩
Steve: not surprising.
There’s a bit of a pause where he can see James is typing and deleting and typing again. Then,
Weird Meat Guy: Do you want to go out tonight? We could grab drinks or something?
Steve bites his lip, bad memories of “casual” meetups and “just grabbing drinks” dates and what they’ve always led to, in the past.
Steve: let’s go out to eat. At a restaurant or something. A real date.
James texts back almost immediately, and his answer makes Steve beam like a fool.
Weird Meat Guy: Hell yeah. What’s your favorite kind of food?
Steve can’t help it; he has a good-verging-on-great feeling about this guy. He tries to tuck away his expectations that this time it’ll be different. He can still do The Year of Steve if or when this goes wrong. He’ll just try this one last time though. Just once more before he swears off being a “meat eater” for the year.
He tells James that he really likes Italian food, and the next thing he knows, James is sending him the link to a really nice and expensive Italian place in Brooklyn. Steve thrills at James' enthusiasm, and grimaces at the three dollar signs that Google has lined up beside the restaurant’s name.
He tells James okay, figures he’ll just tighten up his budget a bit for a few weeks after.
James meets him inside the restaurant, at the bar. He’s already got a drink in his hand. “It’s an old fashioned,” he tells him sheepishly. “Sorry to start without you.”
“No, it’s fine.”
“I just get a little nervous when I ask a cute guy out to dinner.”
Steve freezes, but then his mouth twitches. “Oh,” he says. “You, ah … you think I’m cute, huh?”
James grins and winks at him in a way that is devastating and should-not-be-allowed. “Yeah. I sure do.”
Steve is charmed.
The hostess seats them in a dark and cozy booth in the back of the restaurant. Steve settles in and looks around, impressed. “This is a really nice place,” he says, genuinely meaning it but also kind of anxious to open his menu and get a look at whatever prices garnered a $$$ on Google.
“Yeah it’s one of my favorites.” James is grinning at him from across the table. “I was so glad you picked Italian, cause then I knew I had the perfect place to bring you.”
Bring you. Steve looks down and tries not to smile too obviously at the words. “I like it so far,” he says, peeking up coyly at James so that he knows Steve doesn’t just mean the restaurant.
James seems to get it, if his expression is anything to go by.
They open their menus and Steve’s stomach drops at the forty dollar appetizers. Shit. He wishes he’d found a way to mention to James that he’s kind of a starving artist.
“Do you like mushrooms?” James asks, oblivious to Steve’s internal panic. He’s looking across the table at him with eager eyes. “They’ve got the best stuffed mushrooms I’ve ever had. I think they put crack in ‘em.”
Steve laughs despite himself, then decides ‘fuck it’ once again, and closes his menu with a nod. “Sure,” he says. “Let’s do it.” He’ll live frugally for a month if he has to.
James orders them the appetizer and an entire bottle of wine that he knows by its specific name and year. All Steve makes out is the “‘94 ” part of it, and his heart rate picks up. He’s about to really worry about how the hell much a place like this is going to charge for an entire bottle of wine that’s older than he is, but then when the server delivers it and pours for them, James shoots him a wink and tells him, “S’my treat.”
Oh. Steve’s heart flutters as much at the gentlemanly gesture as it does at the possibility that maybe James will pay for the whole meal. A guy can dream.
The mushrooms arrive and Steve gushes to James about how he was right: they are amazing. They get to talking, covering the standard ‘first date’ questions, and it’s stupid and awkward like it always is; but also it isn’t, because James seems to laugh about the awkwardness of it, too. And that makes it kind of fun.
James is thirty-seven to Steve’s twenty-seven (Daddy kink: activated). He has a place in Manhattan but his sister lives in Brooklyn, which is why he was shopping at the FreshMart in Steve’s neck of the woods the other day. He’s got one parent still living, grew up with a loving family but “pretty poor” in Jersey. He hasn’t been in a relationship or even been on a date in “a really long time.” He wants to travel more but he lets his work consume him too much. He doesn’t eat animals.
He’s also really good at making the whole first-date interrogation-phase go smoothly. It’s fun with him, Steve realizes, not awful and strained like it usually would be. Their conversation just seems to flow naturally and easily, both of them smiling almost continually as they chat and joke.
Steve is utterly charmed.
“Okay,” James says, as he pops another mushroom into his mouth and then talks around it. “I’ll do another boring one: what do you do for work?”
Steve gulps and delays answering by taking a sip of the wine—a red that downright tastes expensive. “Um, well my passion is my art. It’s what I went to school for.” He tucks his lips in and shrugs. “But, ya know, ‘starving artists,’ and all that. So I work part time at Michaels, too.”
James doesn’t look like he’s thinking that Steve’s a stereotype or a loser or anything like that. “That’s awesome!” he says, sounding like he genuinely means it. “What kind of art? Or like, what medium do you work with?”
Steve blinks. Nobody ever asks him good questions like this, like they actually care and want to dig deeper into who he really is. “Um, mostly acrylics. Some watercolors and pencil-charcoal sketching,” he says, flustering at the way that James pays such close attention to his answers. “I like to mix it up sometimes, but mostly it’s those three.” He shrugs. “I sell online. I have one really loyal patron—she keeps me afloat. S’nothing that special.”
“Sounds like you know your stuff,” James counters, not letting him insist on his own mediocrity. “If you went to school for it and all, then you must be pretty good. Don’t you have to, like, audition for art school?”
Steve blushes and looks away. “Well. Yeah.”
“And I bet you get all your supplies cheap with the side gig, huh?”
Steve stares at him. “Yeah,” he says, impressed. “Employee discount.”
James nods sagely, as if he’s ever had to worry in his life about the utility of an employee discount. He might’ve grown up poor, but he’s clearly well-off now. Steve can tell that the suit he’s wearing is a custom tailored deal, and the wine he’s ordered for the table has a bouquet of oak and dollar bills. “I think it’s really brave of you,” he’s telling Steve, looking like he admires him or something ridiculous like that. “That you’re following a passion like that? That you can just …” he makes a shaping gesture over the table with his hands, “make something with your own two hands and then sell it? That’s incredible.”
The more James talks, the more Steve gets his hopes up that he might actually be A Really Great Guy™️. Steve can hardly stand to take all the compliments, so he turns the question back around on James: “What about you? What do you do for work?”
James hesitates. “... I’m a surgeon.”
Steve’s eyes go wide and his mouth drops open, making him look like A Gold Digger™️, probably. He closes his mouth. “Oh. Wow, that’s … that’s neat. Medical school, then, huh?”
James smiles through a wince, as if being a freaking doctor is no big deal. “Yeah. It was rough for a few years, but I got through it. I’m in a good place now. It’s pretty smooth sailing.”
“So do you work at like a hospital or something?”
“Not exactly.” He stares at him for a long moment, then suddenly says, “Gosh, I’m just really attracted to you, Steve.” Steve blinks, taken-aback. He reaches for a hurried sip of his wine and tries to think of a response to the weird shift in conversation. “Sorry,” James hurries. “I just felt like I had to say it.” He gives Steve a tender look rather than a lecherous one, which is a welcome change from the usual script. “I think I might really like you.”
Steve flusters and averts his eyes to the tabletop, peeking back up at James a few times. The guy is totally focused on him. It’s intimidating, but not in a bad way. “Yeah,” Steve eventually manages to murmur. “Yeah I think you might be nice.”
James teases him about the ‘nice’, and they fall into easy banter again as they finish the mushrooms and open up their menus to choose their entrees. Steve’s once again fixated on the prices, and he immediately starts trying to see if there’s anything under sixty dollars …
“By the way,” James says casually, not looking up from where he’s reading his menu. “I know this place is fucking ridiculous: I got it covered.”
He says it all easy and nonchalant, like it’s no big deal that he’s treating Steve to what’s probably a three hundred dollar dinner, and Steve once again feels like he’s on a date with a hero, a real gentleman. “Kay,” he says smally, feeling delighted and hopeful as heck on the inside.
He orders a seafood linguini, and James gets a spinach and cheese tortellini dish. “This is so good,” Steve practically moans around a mouthful of his food.
James makes a noise of agreement, stuffing another tortellini shell in his mouth. “Mmph.”
“So you really don’t eat any meat?” Steve winds up asking. “Like, not even fish or chicken or anything?” Where does he get his protein? James looks like he keeps in good shape …
James chuckles. “Nope. Haven’t touched the stuff for … gosh, almost fifteen years.”
“Wow.” Steve spears up another shrimp from his pasta and wonders if it offends James. “So like, is it an ethical thing or just …”
“No, no. I just kind of had this epiphany one day—while I was tenderizing a thigh, mind you—that all the things I was eating were living creatures, that we’re animals just like they are.” He makes a thoughtful face as he considers it. “It’s not a moral viewpoint so much as it is a …” he trails off and his eyes return to Steve with an apologetic shrug. “I dunno. My viewpoint shifted that day. Couldn’t shift it back. I’ve tried so many other things now, animal meat just doesn’t taste the same anymore.”
“I can respect that.” Steve wiggles his fork that’s speared with a juicy scallop. “As long as you don’t mind this.”
“No, no way. Don’t you remember where we met?”
Steve snickers. “Oh yeah, how could I forget. What was it you said? You like to ‘satisfy other people’s appetites’?” He chances a flirty look across the table. “Wasn’t that how you put it?”
James chews, smirking, and he winks at Steve again. Goddamn. “Yeah,” he says lowly. “Yeah. I sure do.”
On the sidewalk outside the restaurant they stand close together, bundled in their jackets. Neither one of them seems to want to leave. “Thanks again,” Steve says. “For dinner. It was really nice.”
“My pleasure.” James takes a step closer, so that they’re almost toe to toe. “I was so excited to go out with you,” he says. He brings a hand up and traces the side of Steve’s face with the backs of his fingers, not looking at Steve’s eyes but rather where he’s touching his cheek. “You’re different,” he murmurs. "And I knew it the moment I met you."
Wow, what a fucking intense thing to say. Steve … doesn’t hate it. “I am?” he whispers, watching his breath swirl on the air between their faces.
“Mmhm. I can tell.”
Steve shivers and fights the urge to press into James’ touch on his cheek. It feels unduly intimate, and they’re already so close. “I was excited for tonight, too,” he confides. “I’ve had a lot of bad luck with dating. Was getting sick of trying, to be honest.”
“But?” James asks softly, and Steve looks up at him, for once feeling open and honest enough to just admit,
“But I didn’t meet you on some app. And you liked my stupid Golden Girls boots.” James chuckles and Steve looks up, taking in his face up close: the dimple in his chin, the creases of age that’ve barely begun to collect at the corners of his eyes, that one tiny patch of grey in his beard. It makes him all the more insufferably handsome. “And you’re charming,” he whispers. “So there’s that.”
James smiles softly. “Aw, shucks.”
“I think you’re a really nice guy, James. I’d like to see you again.”
James' smile widens hopefully. “Yeah?” he says, leaning even closer.
“Yeah. I think, well … I just think …”
“What?” James touches his face again, this time palming his cheek. “Tell me.”
“Oh, it’s nothin’.” Steve finally lets his eyes slip closed, enjoying the feeling of James’ hand on his skin, the cologne he gets a whiff of when they’re standing this close. “You smell nice.”
“Thank you. Still haven’t told me what you were gonna say.”
Steve smiles sadly. “Oh, I’m just getting my hopes up about you, is all.” He’s still got his eyes closed when James kisses him. He inhales sharply through his nose, surprised. But he doesn’t pull away, and they just … keep kissing.
Eventually James cups his face with both hands and Steve moans, because the way James is kissing him feels so natural and good. He feels like he can taste James' good intentions as they make out softly, right there on the sidewalk.
When they part they’re both panting a little, heavy-lidded eyes flicking over one another, gauging, desire tinged with uncertainty. “That was …” James breathes.
“Yeah,” Steve says, and they both stare at each other for another long moment, before Steve says, “Fuck it,” and surges in to grab James by his jacket and kiss him again, this time harder. James whimpers needily into his mouth, and heat shoots through Steve’s belly at hearing it, arousal flaring to life faster than he can handle. Suddenly his pants feel a little tight, and he wants James so badly he can hardly stand it. “Oh man,” he groans, pulling away from the kiss, grimacing at himself for what he’s about to say. “I really, really never do this,” he promises against James' lips. “But … Do you want to go back to my place?”
James' eyes widen. “Yeah,” he breathes. “Fuck. Yeah, okay.”
They kiss eagerly one more time and then hurry off, giddy, hands clasped, and headed in the direction where James says he’s parked his car.
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Here’s my crack at an amazing digital circus tickle fic! Don’t like tickles then don’t read!
Lee!Pomni Ler!Ragatha
Title: Relax!
Pomni was wandering the digital circus, still trying to come to terms with the fact that she was stuck in this digital hellscape. The small jester really was having a horrible time so far. She really didn’t know what to expect, and the colors were driving her mad. She missed her home, even though she doesn’t even remember it at this point. All she can really remember is putting on that stupid headset. Worst decision ever…
She dissociated, in a constant state of existential dread, and didn’t even realize that Ragatha was standing beside her.
The doll was really worried about her newfound friend. She wondered if there was any way she could calm Pomni down, or maybe cheer her up a little.
The doll lightly tapped the jester’s shoulder, causing her to jump out of her trance.
“Hey, Pomni…? Would you like to come sit in my room with me for a bit? It’s ok if you don’t want to, but I figured you could use some company, and maybe some down time to get away from all the craziness y’know?”
Pomni thought for a moment before nodding. Ragatha had been nice to her all this time, and she really didn’t have any issues with her. If she trusted anyone here at all, it was her. So maybe she could try to relax a little…
Ragatha smiled and calmly lead the small jester girl to her room, opening the door and letting her in. The jester looked around the room, amazed at how soft everything was. Ragatha’s bed was a plaid blue color and pattern, and very plush.
Ragatha sat on the bed, patting beside her to coax Pomni to sit. She obliged.
Pomni sat and nervously twiddles her thumbs.
“N-Nice room…”
Ragatha smiled “thanks! I try to keep it as comfy and tidy as possible. I like my things neat and organized since it’s the only place I can really control ya know… and having a comfortable environment can help ease the mind.”
Pomni nodded.
Ragatha was still a bit worried for Pomni.
“Y’know, Pomni, you’re always welcome to come sit in here with me if you need company. I know it’s scary being stuck here, but I’m always here if you need someone to talk to.” She reassured the smaller girl.
Pomni simply nods.
“I-I appreciate it really… I’m just… still really scared… I-I… wish there was a way out…”
Pomni looks down, Ragatha frowning in response. She lightly rubs Pomni’s back, which startles her at first, but since Ragatha was so gentle, she eases into it rather than staying tense.
“I understand… we all do. I know it’s hard but please try not to stress so much about it… we’re all in this together after all, and the best we can do is try to make light of this situation the best we can…”
Pomni looked so depressed.
It made Ragatha’s digital heart sink.
She continued rubbing her back, and offered her arms outwards.
“Would you like a hug maybe…?”
Pomni slowly slunked her small body towards Ragatha, normally against physical touch from anyone, something just seemed so calming and gentle about Ragatha’s presence… perhaps she could be an exception.
Ragatha couldn’t help but chuckle at Pomni. She was really cute when she let her guard down. She gently hugged the smaller girl and sorta held her in her lap, causing the jester to blush. She lightly patted her head.
“You’re gonna be ok, new stuff. I’m always here if you need someone to talk to, or to just be there.”
Pomni couldn’t help but get a little emotional, wiping a few tears away.
“T-Thanks Ragatha…”
Ragatha frowned a little again.
“Oh no no! It’s ok! No need for tears ok? Everything’s gonna be fine…” she kind of rocked the smaller girl as if someone would rock an infant. She was already feeling very protective over the newest member of the circus. I guess it was somewhat in her nature.
Pomni actually calmed down rather quickly. Something about Ragatha’s nurturing presence, her softness, and the atmosphere finally being somewhat safe. She leaned into her touch.
Ragatha smiled fondly at Pomni once she calmed down.
“That’s more like it… y’know you’re really cute.”
Pomni turned bright red and hid her face as Ragatha chuckled.
“Cmon now, don’t hide silly.”
She playfully poked Pomni’s stomach, having being towards her due to how she was holding her in her lap. This caused Pomni to squeal in surprise.
Ragatha got a spark of mischief in her eyes. Oh this could possibly be a good way to cheer her up!
“Ooo what was that? Are you ticklish, Pomni~?”
Pomni was bright red and already panicky.
“N-N-Nope!” She tried to protest, but her jumpy and nervous nature was already giving her away. She actually couldn’t help her lips from slightly curling upwards as her hands stayed in a defensive position in front of her.
Ragatha simply smirked and wiggled her fingers above Pomni’s tummy.
“Are you suuure about that?”
Pomni was nervously begging just watching her fingers.
“P-Please Ragatha n-nomfff!!!”
Midway through pleas, Ragatha lightly scribbles on Pomni’s stomach, with Pomni reflexively covering her mouth to muffle her giggles.
Ragatha smirked and kept up her attack, scribbling a little harder now exploring every inch of her tummy.
“So Pomni, if you’re not ticklish I’m sure you wouldn’t mind if I kept this up then…”
Pomni squealed and immediately dissolved into squeaky giggles. She still kept her hands over her mouth, but she was now being so loud that it wasn’t doing her any good.
“Mfmfmfmmfmfmmm~!!”
Pomni started to wiggle around in Ragatha’s grasp and kick her feet a little.
“Hmm~? Someone’s awfully giggly for not being ticklish~ don’t think I can’t hear it~ and please don’t hide that adorable laugh, I wanna hear more!”
Ragatha kept at it, going at her sides and ribs now with both hands, going in for the kill.
Pomni shrieked pretty loudly much to her embarrassment, trying to grab Ragatha’s hands by reflex, which caused her to release some adorable shrieky laughter while throwing back her head.
“NOHOHOHORAGAHAHAHAHAGAHAHAHAA~!!”
Ragatha couldn’t help but laugh right along with her. She was being way too adorable for her own good. She couldn’t just stop now.
“That’s more like it~! You’re so cute like this Pomni~ Tickle tickle~”
Pomni kept letting out giddy, childish giggles and full on belly laughter, depending on where Ragatha went, she kept at it going all over her tummy, ribs and sides. Pomni was an absolute wiggle worm beneath her, squealing and kicking about with the reddest face Ragatha had ever seen.
“PLEHEHEASE NAHAHAHHAA~!! EHEHEEI CAHAHANANT-!!”
Ragatha couldn’t believe it. She’d never seen Pomni so happy before, and if she was reading her right, she seemed to be enjoying this. Maybe this could be a good future tactic to cheer up the jester. She didn’t want to overwhelm Pomni, but she couldn’t help but continue.
“I think since you lied to me, it’s only fair I get to explore this a bit further~”
Pomni shrieked when Ragatha grabbed her hips.
“EEEEEHEEEEK!!NAHAHAHANOHOPLEHEHEASE!”
Pomni was visibly tearing up and practically bouncing, the poor jester girl was so sensitive there.
The doll practically had hearts for pupils at her reaction, god why was she so cute??
Ragatha didn’t want to kill the poor girl, so she slowly slowed down her tickles, watching the giggly jester beneath her slowly calm down and catch her breath. God she was adorable.
The doll felt a little bit of guilt rush over her when she saw how flushed and worn out Pomni had been after the playful assault ceased.
“Heh, sorry about that… I-I hope I didn’t go too far… I just couldn’t help myself, you were so cute and I had never seen you so happy before”
Pomni couldn’t help but keep a wobbly grin, still giggly and flushed.
“I…ihits ohokay…”
Ragatha sighed in relief. Reflecting back on it, Pomni never asked her to stop…
“Heh… good. Hey, y’know if this helps you feel better, I wouldn’t mind doing it again for you any time you want. If my judgments correct, you seemed to be enjoying yourself…”
Pomni was flustered. Yeah, she hadn’t been that happy here before this happened. She usually wasn’t one for physical touch at all, but Ragatha’s touch was so gentle and fun, she made her feel safe enough to let her guard down. The tickling was a nice stress reliever from the anxiety the jester was experiencing.
Shyly, Pomni nodded.
“Y-Yeah… sure…”
Ragatha smiled.
“Great! And don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone ok? This can be our little secret! Besides, Im sure the others wouldn’t be nearly as merciful as me…”
Pomni let out an awkward chuckle.
“Y-Yeah… thanks… and yeah… I really wouldn’t want them to find out…”
She seemed a bit tense thinking about the possibility of Jax finding out.
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Wooo I’m feeling some kind of way recently. Stress will do that to you.
A/N: this is fluff but seriously, no minors. I mean it.
But like, paint this picture with me.
Older Eddie (Professor Munson in my imaging), remembering all the things that make you happy. He notices you’re upset because job stuff and you’re having a hard time being in your 30’s and he gets it. It wasn’t that long ago he was there and he’s been watching you ghost around the townhouse for a week. Hair clipped up and the same pajamas you’ve had on for at least three days. He still trips over himself to see you though, even unwashed and snapping and sad. Every day he comes home and searches for you, and every day this week he’s found you in the spare room you’ve slowly turned into your space.
He’s told you he’ll clear it out and get you real office furniture but that makes you sink deeper into your depression. You talk about not being able to pay him back and he’s never once expected that.
You don’t have to. He doesn’t want you to. Let him do something for you. He just wants you to feel better.
And maybe that starts a fight because he’s already got his career and his friends and his money and his home. You’re floating in a job you hate and looking for another one to bide your time in because you actually hate the degree you spent 7 years getting. You only did it to prove to everyone else you could and now?
Now you live off of your boyfriend in his big, expensive brownstone. He’s 12 years into his field and settled and also 25 years older than you.
So what is it? You only like charity cases or something? Gotta rescue the idiot?
He knows you’re mad. He knows you lash out like this. He knows you’ll push so that everyone else leaves and you can feel like you got left instead. So maybe he snaps back at you for a second. Reminds you if he didn’t want you living with him and dating him he could find someone more age appropriate (he says with an eye roll). When you stomp up the stairs to your room he yells up to you that if he didn’t love you and was 20 years younger he’d be throwing your shit out onto the pavement outside, damn the old money next door.
Maybe you avoid him till the weekend when he’s home the whole time. You haven’t slept in the same bed and you haven’t answered a single knock or text or FaceTime. He sends you little flower emojis and a string of stars. He finds a tiktok about the Mars rover that he knows you’ll want to see and sends you some screen shots of the new menu for the whiskey bar you two like to go to. While you were sleeping he slid into your room and left your Sunday morning fancy coffee on the nightstand and when you finally wake up and notice it, you can hear him moving around in the kitchen.
You still feel like shit but at least you know he isn’t kicking you out. You know he wouldn’t, not over a stupid fight like that but still. It’s when you’re wrapped up in your robe and heading down stairs to finally speak to him you notice the bedroom door open. The bedroom you normally sleep in, with a sticky note on it. An arrow pointing in with a smiley face and crudely drawn horns. On the bed there’s a little paper bag from the expensive soap place you rarely buy from and it seems Eddie has outdone himself again. The rose shower melts and the lemon soap and that stupid body pouf you like so much that smells like candy. If you cry about it in the shower you don’t tell him and he doesn’t bring up your puffy face when you finally pad into the kitchen.
He’s baking something, it smells sweet and you spot the split packaging of the orange cinnamon pillsbury rolls in the trash and you have to swallow the lump in your throat. He hates those so you know he ran these errands yesterday when he left for those few hours. Probably ran by the grocery store first and then into that boutique that he always complains smells too much. He pauses when he see you staring into the trash can, silent and still. Doesn’t say anything, just tilts his head to try and catch your eye.
I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. I don’t know what to do about anything and I’m panicking.
He just shrugs and smiles. He gets it. He always gets it. There’s something in him that always gets your mood swings and that deep seated anger. He’s never asked you to try and snuff that flame out, just helps you tend it.
It’s a controlled burn. You gotta let it get all the kindling out so new shit can grow.
Eddie pulls you into a hug and you lean into him. Breathe him in slow to try and get that lump to go away. You thank him for your shower and then gesture sadly behind you at the oven and thank him for the cinnamon rolls you know he hates. He laughs and it rumbles against you. He hums along to the music and you tuck your head into his neck and realize he’s got Neil Young on. There’s an old man joke on the tip of your tongue but then he starts singing along to Harvest Moon and you shut up. The tears you’ve been holding in since getting out of the shower push up and over and stain your cheeks and wet his old tshirt and he just shushes you. Sways you against him until the timer goes off and he sways you over to the stove and manages to get the round pan out without burning either of you.
Maybe it’s a rainy day and the drops patter against the windows. Eddie knows you like the rain and he dances you across the living room so he can crack the window so you can hear it coming down.
Because I’m still in love with you, I wanna see you dance again…
Sings quietly into your hair and tucks you up close and let’s you cry on his shoulder and when he feels you slowing down, taking those deep breaths to steady yourself, he pulls his phone out and replays the song so he can properly dance with you. He wants you to laugh so he holds your fingertip and first knuckle, acts like he’s playing a tiny harmonica. You giggle and he feels better, lighter. There’s color in your cheeks again and you’re looking him in the eye before you give him a kiss and drape back over him.
It’s cozy and it smells like cinnamon rolls and you’re swaying with him and you both are happy.
#Eddie Munson#Eddie Munson x Reader#Eddie Munson Fluff#Professor Munson#my fic#my work#I’m stressed#have this
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Oooooo I am so normal about ieytd. So normal. I did not just scroll the tag instead of sleeping. Why would you say that.
I'm thinking about Agent Phoenix and I'm trying to figure out my hc on how they survive everything. Bc. Time loops are cool.... but sometimes they get too depressing for me. And I have No Clue how pure skill would save them from the final missions. That elevator fall, and Phoenix was somehow well enough to get up and leave the scene such that the agency didn't find them in the destruction? Getting exposed to neurotoxins/poison gasses without experiencing any bad symptoms if you stop it fast enough? Driving through the massive jets of fire on Prism's truck without an Immediate Need for Hospitalization? Falling from orbit?
So. Hear me out. Agent Phoenix has some kind of supernatural ability to not die. I played with the idea of the name Phoenix being accidentally more literal than all the characters thought bc I hc Phoenix as a bit of a firebug, but that would cause problems with the whole heat-activated bomb in their head, so. The recreational arson is a coincidence.
So that leaves me down to a couple ideas.
1. Regeneration
Ah, the classic. I love regeneration. Simple but it can be used in really cool ways. The fun is the how. I think I'm leaning towards ✨experimentation✨, either self inflicted (Phoenix seems to like the sciences) or something done to Phoenix and they decided to do something with it. The Agency definitely wouldn't be involved, considering how surprised everyone is that they keep surviving these shenanigans. This has great angst potential and I'm giggling and kicking my feet thinking about it.
Also, this makes me think of using the forge in KBOOM. You can't convince me the metal tools are safe to handle so quickly. Not glowing does not equal safe temperature. I kinda want to write a snippet where Phoenix hands Prism the wrench and she immediately drops it bc OW???? And Phoenix thinks whoops, I forgot that burns are a thing.
2. Telekinesis and pray
What if the massive tk stunt in KBOOM wasn't exactly unprecedented? What if Phoenix has had a lot of practice pulling off nigh impossible things with telekinesis, sink or swim style?
Paralytic neurotoxin/poison gas? Manually keep your heart beating and puppet your body until you can get a moment to counteract it or it wears off on its own.
Faceful of fire from some mad scientist security measures? Split your attention between driving the car and desperately pushing back the hot plasma inches from your face, because you kind of need your eyes for this mission.
Falling from orbit? Slow your descent as well as you can, and push even harder because your best won't win against gravity. Don't tell your handler you had to do that, bc he never asked. He simply assumed you were lucky enough that your shuttle wasn't damaged when the big death laser went kaboom. If all your enemies think that explosion was too bad for you to survive, well that's just a bonus. It wasn't, right? You're here. Your shuttle had to have been fine.
#ieytd#agent phoenix#ieytd au#yeah ill give this the au treatment#i will probably end up keeping both of these bc they both ahve a lot of potential#but im always a sucker for medical experimentation and regeneration shenanigans#kat rambles#ieytd 2#ieytd 3
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Can you do my request where Yuu keeps self harming themselves because of all the stress they in and the reactions of Riddle, Leona, Azul, Jamil and Malleus please? I been depressed lately.
TW: self harm mention/ implied, Knife, Blood
I hope you'll feel better soon! Try and do things that help you keep your mind off of it. Or try and talk to someone you fully trust.
Riddle:
He panicked seeing the blood on your arm, then was mad, what causes you to do something like this? Did someone say something or? He calmly asked you what happened, you just shook your head. He nodded "I'm going to help clean you up okay? I'm going to touch you now." He gently held your arm and began to clean the cuts, he trembled looking at them.
He sucked in a breath when you would flinch at the peroxide he used. When he was finished he gently kissed your arm "When your ready to tell me you can. I'll always be here." After a while you admitted qith all the test happening it caused too much for you to handle "Don't worry, I'll help you, always." You smiled and instead of studying he called Trey to give you guys some snacks and watched a movie.
Leona:
He smelled the blood on you, so he asked if you got into a fight. You panicked and just pushed it away, but he was president and asked again. You tried running away but he grabbed your arm, causing it to bleed. He froze "Yuu..." Leona then pulled you to him and hugged you, "It's okay I won't ask. Let's go take a nap." This caused you to cry a little in his arms "Lets take a nap and then go eat okay?" You nodded and walked with him to his napping place.
As you napped Leona was wide awake, did he do something? Was it from standards too high? Did he have to kill someone? You began to wake up after 30 minutes. Seeing the look on his face you semi explain why you did it, Croqley pushed too much on you. he nodded "I'll talk to the Crow bastard. I'll even get Crewel on him." You asked him not to tell, he nodded "This is between us, I won't say anything. I'll always be here." You smiled and took another nap.
Azul:
He noticed how much you did for Crowley and the school. How you did all the overbloats and juggling school life along with it. He went to Ramshackle to talk to you, he calmly walked in not seeing you so he went upstairs. He heard you sobbing as he got closer to your room, without knocking he rushed in to comfort you. He smelled blood and saw a knife thrown at a wall, he then saw you crying holding your arm.
He didn't say anything, you saw him and began to explain but he said "Don't worry, I'll clean the cuts just lay down on your bed, love." You nodded and did so, he went to the bathroom grabbing the knife and setting it in the sink to be dealt with later. He had these thoughts once but was too much of a coward to go through with it. He gently cleaned your wounds and laid down on the bed with you "I'll help you, so please if it get's too much just come to me and I'll help. But for now lets take a well needed nap." You nodded and he gently held your hand, you both took a good nap together.
Jamil:
He's seen the signs before with other members of his dorm and he has helped with all different kinds of self harm. He waited until you both were alone in his room as he gently spoke to you "Yuu, my diamond, if I may ask have you been..." You froze watching him as you hurried to explain. He cut you off "You don't need to talk now, we cam do that later. Right now we're going to have snacks and do things that will distract us from everything else." You nodded as he gather the snacks he made before this as he got out some board games form his home.
He gently talked to you about your hobbies as he teaches you the different games. At one point you told him why and he nodded, he told you that if it ever gets too much tell him he'll off handly say something to Kalim. You know the boy could make Crowley bend backwards since his parent fund the school so much. That got you to giggle a little. You two continued to play different games, Jamil let you beat him but he made it challenging a couple of times just for fun.
Malleus:
He always smelled the copper around you, he thought it was a small cut, but then it got even more after a couple of days. So he asked you on a stroll through Ramshackle's garden. It caught you so off guard and you couldn't help but cry since you didn't know what to say, Malleus comforted you saying how he's sorry that he spring this on you so fast and that he shouldn't have asked, you calmed yourself and told Malleus why you smelled so much like copper. He never heard or seen anyone do self harm so he didn't know fully. Once you did explain he gently held you to him, he was seething. He told you he'd fix this first thing in the morning and he said "I'll take you to Diasomnia, since Crowley doesn't dare step in there." You agreed and he teleported you in the lounge area.
Lilia who was there was about to greet but he saw Malleus' stare and backed off disappearing to make sure the other's don't bother you two. He was able to get you to his room and on his bed as he gathered things that help him when he's sad, "This is Rose." He showed you a dragon plush that was a pretty pink color "She helps me sleep since I get nightmare's sometimes." You smile and cuddle Rose, Malleus gathered more pillows and blankets to make sure you can sleep comfortably, Rubbing your eyes he laid next to you as you nodded off.
#tw self harm#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland yuu#twisted wonderland x reader#twst jamil x reader#twst malleus#twst riddle x reader#twst azul x reader#twst leona
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TAROT READING - DAILY CHECK IN
*entertainment, purposes only*
*read at your own risk*
Does R know about this blog?
Pulled: Queen of Cups (reversed)
Tarot 2.0: oh she knows! It’s not affecting her friendship with T though. If anything, she’s bitter because zeglyth is popular. Her own bf doesn’t get that kind of love so she’s irritated that Zeglyth is taking over. However, I’m seeing a lot of immaturity here. How can you hate something but feed into it? That’s like saying I’m tired of eating chicken then ordering 50 chicken wings with a side of nuggets. Can’t have it both ways. T has the same issue. He can’t be mad that R doesn’t want to talk about the kiss when he told her not to. They’re both always bitter over something. Two lemons on a lemon tree.
Is R mad at zeglyth shippers?
Pulled: Eight of Swords
Tarot 2.0: hmm interesting. No not really! She’s annoyed like I mentioned but she’s mad at her fans in general. Everyone needs to relax. Her fans are overwhelming her and it’s becoming toxic. She misses her older fans from WSS, they weren’t too crazy. She knew about zeglyth shippers though so it’s not surprising to her? Isn’t she a fandom shipper herself? She knows how it goes by now then. It’s not a big deal, people are blowing it out of portion. She was irritated for like 1 hour and got over it.
She’s slowly realizing that being online and in her own fandom is not a good thing. Now she feels trapped because she loves the fan interaction but she comes across stuff she doesn’t want to see. Oh well. Learn to curate your space, R.
How is R's relationship with J now?
Pulled: The Hangman
Tarot 2.0: She’s not happy right now. All hell is breaking loose everywhere. She’s very conflicted over J and their current relationship. This blog didn’t help (not in a bad way but like she’s constantly forced to confront her feelings for T). She’s seeing T everywhere because of the Zeglyth explosive on her timeline and reminiscing on all their moments together. What a mess. Also I think her and J are having long distance relationship issues but she’s trying to put on a brave face. She doesn’t do well when she’s lonely and sinks into a dark place. However, she shouldn’t make rash decisions (see what happened to T when he did that?) and take a break offline.
Why did T’s energy change from his bday to now?
Pulled: Page of Pentacles
Tarot 2.0: this is pretty typical actually. He was very happy on his bday surrounded by friends and loved ones. And then after the bday high is over, it’s usually followed by an extreme low. People tend to reminisce during the bday. What have they accomplished over the last year? What happened? Any regrets? And all those questions sometimes lead to a major depressive episode for a few reasons.
One, people don’t like to think they’re a year older because time passes quickly. Two, if they accomplished something, they want to go back to that time. Three, they have major regrets and wish they could go back and do things differently. And last, they don’t know where their future is headed so they’re sad for the unknown.
I’m going with option 2 here.
T hit a big career milestone that he equally loves and hates. Loves because finally his career is headed in a great direction. Hates because now life is under a microscope and he misses flying under the radar. It also explains why he’s impulsive because if he’s thinking about the positives of last year, I’m willing to bet R flashed through his mind a lot. And he doesn’t want to think about her at all.
This is a terrible month for all these insane emotions. His bday and Valentine’s Day is forcing him to confront these thoughts.
Me: don’t forget TBOSAS documentary and PCA.
Tarot 2.0: damn so R and T don’t want to think about each other but all these life events are forcing them to. What terrible timing.
Me: if it’s terrible, why are you smiling?
Tarot 2.0: I love when people suffer tbh. It gives me a thrill especially when it’s self conflicted like these 2.
Me: he stammered over the word friend when he was talking about her.
Tarot 2.0: huh?
*shows her clip*
Tarot 2.0: didn’t this happening during filming? So months ago? Over a year ago since they filmed back in 2022? He couldn’t even say the word friend without stuttering, you’re right. He’s so deeply unserious.
What does he mean “one of the joys in his life?” He has many friends, I feel it in his energy so that’s a powerful thing to say. Don’t tell me he was going to say “she’s easy to fall in with”? I hope BB isn’t watching this.
And I’m noticing a pattern here. Every time he’s alone with his thoughts during these interviews, he confesses what he’s truly feeling. No way he would have said all of this in front of R and/or J.
Me: and there’s this!
Tarot 2.0: J is weak! No way am I letting another man lift my girl off the ground! Especially in front of me. Is this a common routine? T definitely has a thing for petite and short women. But J turned his back for one second and T had her in the air. I’m so lost right now. I don’t understand how J can be okay with this? T has no respect for him and honestly I don’t either. This clip pretty much sums up the relationship between these 3. J is clueless and indifferent, T is literally lifting her and R is giggling like a school girl getting asked to prom. If you show a random person this, they wouldn’t believe who’s actually dating who.
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Lighter With Me Here
Read on AO3!
A/N: I had this idea to write something fluffy and non-sexual with Mare giving Mad a nice bath because he's had a bad day... and ended up kind of projecting myself into this scenario.
--
Mare wiggled his fingers under the stream of water, pulling away when the water was warm enough and plugging the tub. He pulled lavender bath soap from under the sink, adding it to the water before setting it aside, reaching for a sponge and a face towel.
Mad had returned home from his walk in a bad mood, skulking around the house with a frown on his face and eyes on the verge of tears. When cuddles by the fire and a new book didn’t lift his mood, Mare decided a warm and calming bath might help lift Mad’s spirits, carrying him to their room and starting the water running.
“Alright, love, up we get,” he whispered, gently lifting Mad to sit up, slowly removing his clothes before carrying him to the bathroom and setting him in the tub. He held Mad’s face in one hand, turning it so he could kiss Mad deeply before letting him go, putting the sponge into his hand and stepping back to undress.
“Why do you care so much?” Mad asked, not looking up from where he was methodically squeezing the sponge under the water, barely reacting as Mare climbed into the bath behind him, pulling him in close to rest his back against his chest. “Why do you work so hard to make me feel good?”
“Humans feel a lot of things,” Mare began quietly, slowly beginning to wipe down Mad with the face towel. “Despite the world promoting a positive mentality, there are a lot of people who feel down. It isn’t possible to completely heal from the down feelings, but there must be times when the feelings can be lifted enough to function.”
“But why me? What draws you to me to the point you’re willing to spend days with me when I don’t want anything to do with the world?” Mad insisted, blindly drawing shapes onto Mare’s thigh beneath the water as Mare carefully spread soap over him.
“Because you’re perfect for me,” Mare replied, giving Mad’s cheek a kiss before following it with a swipe of his thumb. “The riddle of my being is chaos, and you bring the right amount of order to keep things right. It breaks my heart to see you feeling so low that you’re barely speaking.”
Mad took a moment to consider Mare’s answer, leaning his head back against Mare’s shoulder and embracing his warmth. He closed his eyes with a sigh as Mare gently rinsed off the soap with the sponge, covering him with warm water that made him drowsy and less depressed.
“You’re trying not to answer with just a simple ‘I love you’, and I appreciate that,” he started, taking hold of one of Mare’s hands and lifting it to entwine their fingers together. “I love that you don’t try to completely lift my spirits, just lift them enough for me to talk again, and I’m grateful to be able to come home to you whenever something’s gone wrong.” He kissed the back of Mare’s hand before letting the drowsiness take over, resting against Mare’s body and sighing.
“Let’s get you dried off and clothed,” Mare chuckled, gently leaning Mad forward so he could get out of the tub, lifting Mad out after him and wrapping him in a fluffy towel. “People are wired differently, and I do worry sometimes that I might sound redundant if I keep justifying things with the simple ‘I love you’. I want to be able to remain that flutter in your heart whenever you think of me, your first thought in the morning and your last at night. Bad moods happen, and I just want to make those days the most comfortable for you.”
Mad listened to Mare’s words as he dried him off, picking at his fingernails as he blinked back tears. He sniffled when Mare dried off his hair, curling his toes in the bathroom mat to ground himself as he waited for Mare to dry himself, then curled into Mare’s chest as the musician carried him to the bed.
Mare dressed them in silence, waiting for Mad to initiate more conversation as he quietly slipped a fluffy sweater over his head. He held a glass of water to Mad’s lips, watching the scientist take a few gulps before setting the glass on the side table, helping Mad under the covers. Climbing in after him, Mare arranged the pillows so he could rest against the headboard with space for Mad to curl up against him if he wanted.
Mad immediately curled into Mare’s side, resting his head over his chest, laying his hand flat over his heart. Mare draped his arm over Mad’s shoulders, tracing patterns into his upper arm as he softly began to hum.
Breathe deep, I can feel you weep.
When the black clouds gather over your head,
I will be here to lull you to sleep.
I know things won’t magically disappear,
There is no cure for when life seems wrong.
I can offer my support, my love, wipe your tears,
Because maybe things will be lighter with me here.
His shirt was slowly getting soaked with Mad’s silent tears, but Mare didn’t care as he sang quietly, continuing to draw patterns into Mad’s arm while Mad took his free hand in his own, tangling their fingers together and holding tight. After some time, when the moon had risen high in the sky and the wet patch on Mare’s chest had gone ice cold, Mare closed his eyes to sleep, feeling Mad’s breathing become steady and deep, sleep finally granting him peace.
--------------------------------
@iamvegorott @brokentimewatch @dungeon-dragons-dragons @rattyboyisemo
#writing#fanfiction#nwtb fanfiction#madmare#fluff#this is purely self indulgent#and maybe I wrote the song for me#but hey sometimes you need to comfort yourself
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Delicious in Dungeon Reading Diary Vol 5
Spoilers below, obviously
Oh so we are getting right into Falin weirdness off rip.
I called it that this person was the mad mage.
Hmm. So they recognize Laios, but know it's from within a painting that they recognize him. I'm surprised but I think that actually fully explains how the painting work. I guess it's time for a big rant on my guess as to how living painting work. If you don't care skip this paragraph. Ok so the mad mage made the paintings to trap people and it seems like whenever someone enters them a scene starts playing like a tape, except that people trapped inside can interact with things. These recordings are of things that actually happened, and the people within them act roughly how they actually did. However the mad mage is the exception to this. It seems that they can either perceive through the scenes of their painting counterpart or just know everything that happens in the painting. It also seems that they can choose to override their painting counterpart's recorded actions and take control of them, allowing them to know that laios was in all the paintings. This I'm a bit iffy on because if I recall they seem to think Laios is some kind of kingdom infiltrator in the painting which wouldn't quite line up but it's the best I got. Additionally you can draw/paint extra stuff onto the painting and it will be sentient but won't be in the painting proper, just kinda in a plane on top of the painting, or maybe that's just because Laios drew bad. Either way that is a lot, but hopefully this is the last time I should spend way too long talking about living paintings.
Very funny how the label follows them. I also love Senshi's face of "what the hell man those are my hams"
Oh so since Falin was made with the dragon's flesh and blood she is the dragon. Wait does this mean Falin is dead forever? I sure hope not.
I'm skipping over most of the next 3 chapters, I'll get to them in my final thoughts.
Wow this samurai guy is having just an awful time.
So senshi probably got the cheese from the orcs. But I should mention I've also been watching the anime with some friends as it comes out. And one of them has a huge pet peeve about every time they have oil in the dish, since he says they should've run out forever ago. I'm not bothered by it at all, and find it very funny how he reacts every time oil is on screen. The reason I bring this up now is if this cheese is seen more then just this once he is gonna blow his gourd and it will be very funny.
Senshi giving Chilchuck "the talk" is so funny that I literally got light head from laughing.
It's very cool that Laios is learning magic. I feel a lot of stories wouldn't do that just because he's "the fighter" and Marcille is "the wizard" and they would have to stay as those archetypes.
The art in this whole series is great. I love the way the cockatrice is drawn here.
It may have been fine if it didn't come right after another whole chapter where Chilchuck recaps the story so far like there's been a hiatus and they wanna make sure you remember everything.
Man this chapter is on a roll with these A+ panels
I somehow only just now, while taking the above picture, that the chapter called cleaners has the characters dressed up as cleaners. That's cute and I may be a little stupid.
Ok so I was gonna say this this guy may be Delgal hiding, since we saw that the mad mage is looking for him.
But then I remembered; isn't the whole backstory for the golden city that it's king told of the mad mage and then died? Cause that would make it kinda hard to find him.
But then now when I'm composing this I'm remembering that the dungeon doesn't allow people to die, so either he died right outside or that story was wrong. Hmmm.
Seriously every panel with Shuro has him look like the worlds most depressed man.
He's practically sinking into the earth.
You know in retrospect, if the Dungeon Gormet Guide was a bunch of lies and guesses it's awfully lucky that it's happened to be right about what is and is not poisonous. (Or which tentacles' swelling can be reduced with vinegar)
To conclude my thoughts on this volume, that first chapter is great. I was a little worried about what the next plot hook would be but it delivered. They just show straight up that the elf is the lord of the dungeon. And they introduce the mystery of "what is going on with falin." But then it spends 2 whole chapters just telling us stuff we already know. Like it was kinda cool seeing the B Team piece together who A Team is with limited knowledge, but other then the stuff about Shuro there wasn't much new or interesting.
And then the party is just trapped on the 5th floor the entire volume, I imagine because next volume their plans will change and they won't want to go back to the surface and the author wanted to avoid too much backtracking. Which I get, but it ends up feeling like a bunch of these chapters are just kinda killing time until the B team shows up.
That being said, still a great volume of manga. Probably the weakest so far, but only because it's a like a 4.5 instead of a 4.75 or 5.
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I don’t wanna be clocked as the “I’m better than you disabled type” for saying this, so please don’t go there. But I feel like people do have a problem with getting way too comfortable in their misery over the years here and I hope people see what I mean one day. Back when I was miserable myself and didn’t have the resources I do now, I used to get angry at those who said I’m capable of “doing more” or related but after receiving the help I’ve needed I’ve come to realize its a kind of fucked how normalized its been in these spaces to just.. use specific experiences or illnesses as a scapegoat? For a lack of better words. I used to do it but again, it’s normalized here I guess.. we’re capable of so much more and I’m growing more and more tired of the “I’m x so I can’t do x” thing..
I’m diagnosed with various things, some expected some new, I’ve been through heaps of traumatizing both irl and online situations resulting in the cptsd, chronic depression, BPD, some sort of dissociative disorder etc all being treated. What gets me though, is I see people experience way more mild things that they end up intensely identify with and blaming it or a few bad experiences on every negative trait they have, and don’t try and change anything. A lot of the time leading to misdiagnosing themselves as well with something serious, and yeah, I get mad about it. I get that people don’t all experience things the same but the same awwrghwk729191
The more I see this sort of thing taken happen between mutuals/acquaintances etc after I provide my insight the more (unreasonably?) angry I get? Because in my mind I guess people should know better but at the same time they haven’t been “enlightened” like I have so to speak. I’ve helped a couple of people, but some are so, so stuck in the “I’m this so I can’t do that or be expected to” thing and I only see this mindset in people who are very stuck on social media. I do not see this in people who are more “offline” or focus more on projects/friends/etc who have been through a lot like I have as well.
And just like. Dude.
[CW experience dump of unpleasantness];
If I can go through 13ish years of back to back domestic violence, witnessing my parent trying to kill themself multiple times, being woken up to screaming at 1am almost every day for months at one point, see people get beat, get beaten myself, have someone try to run me/family over twice, have a sibling die, endure s/a and on top of that be sent through multiple manipulators online after thinking I was through it all; I’m sure others with more “mild” problems in comparison they’ve ever went through can pull out of the “I’m so constantly drained and I can’t do xyz thing,” like I have, with work. But they have to really want it, when I get angry is when I see someone perfectly capable of using those resources and they don’t, but instead sink more into the “I can’t to blah” mindset.
I guess yeah there’s no hiding that this is a direct nod towards something that happened to me/someone recently, but nothing would change even if I dumped my feelings which I’ve done way too much of and itd always amount to nothing sooo instead I’ll just dump about what I see it all relating to in online phenomena. I’ll never be satisfied with how a friendship fell apart because of [the everything], and I could explain my pov further but I don’t want to get anymore specific than I am + I’m all around very certain it all culminates to this sort of thing. Out of all the worries I have recently reflecting on this is the only upsetting thing I’ve really been through recently besides random works issues and I think this will plague me for a long, long time. Wegh
Ty for the like attention span of idk 3 peanuts of my 50-ish followers who would read this post 🏓
#chatter#rant#yyyeah#I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately and its bouncing between aggression to how common and dehibilitating of a mindset it is#and neutrality#I am just getting this off my mind so it won’t just sit n burden me I guess#thanks tumblr for not limiting my words#I hate ‘vaguing’ like this but I mean if it fits it fits and this is an unresolved problem I’ve tried to resolve for so long#it always amounts to nothing#vent
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Thoughts While Watching Gilmore Girls, Season 2, Episode 10, "The Bracebridge Dinner", Part 2
You can read my previous reviews here.
I'd say someone needs to put Miss Patty on a leash, but she'd enjoy that a little too much. Down girl Down!
My homegirl Paris is exhausted sitting next to Patty all night, having to hear about an elderly woman's insatiable cravings for young meat. She's also depressed because she was hoping to be sat next to Rory, the love of her life, but the stars did not align in her favor.
Michel is me during every episode except this one and maybe 5 others.
Dear God, Patty. He's spoken for.
My two favorite Party Poopers.
(later after the dinner, Rory and Lorelai are in their room at the Inn).
Rory: Have you heard from Dad yet? He usually checks in this time of year.
Take a minute to dissect that sentence. Take 5 minutes, if you need to. Let it sink in.
Crusty: "Is it December again? Golly, I almost forgot. It's that special time of year where I call my daughter. The annual Daddy-Daughter Phone Call."
Lorelai neglected to tell Rory that Crusty "checked in" and invited her to stay over.
Rory: Why didn't he ask me?
Lorelai: He's pretending to be considerate by running it by me first.
Oh Rory, my sweet summer child in oversized blue floral pajamas.
No.
Rory: Why didn't you tell me?
Lorelai: Because I have dibs on you this time of year, not him!
I want to know what kind of strip-mall custody lawyer these two visited where they called dibs on their child lol
She also goes on to say "there's something wrong with that woman" (a woman she's never met, by the way). I am going to utter a very cursed sentence: "IN CHRISTOPHER'S DEFENSE" (*VOMITS*), Lorelai is acting like Christopher wanted Rory to live with him for 6 months or something. He asked her to visit for a weekend over her winter break.
Justice for Sherry, she did nothing wrong. Justice for all the women on this show whose only crimes were having questionable taste in men like Dean and Christopher and end up in the crosshairs of their jealous ex girlfriends or not-yet-girlfriends. Sherry did not deserve to be called "your stupid stepmother" (and understandably, Rory interrupts her mother's insane rambling to question whether Sherry has even earned the rank of stepmother yet)..Justice for Lindsay. Justice for Shane because Rory was nasty to her for no reason and because she didn't deserve to be brutally murdered by Jess and end up swan food at the bottom of the lake. (more on that in season 3).
Yeah, so nice of him to invite you to visit him once a year.
Whuuhh? Why?
Can we have a Jimmy Mariano Vs Christopher Hayden Deadbeat Father Death Match? I'll make popcorn.
Lorelai: Okay, maybe I was being a littttle possessive and insanely jealous of his pretty girlfriend.
We love to see moments of self awareness here at TWWGG. Bless.
Instead of weekly fundraisers to fix a bridge, couldn't they have used that money to pay for desperately needed therapy for Rory and Lorelai instead?
During dinner, Richard accidentally revealed he was retiring and Emily didn't know and now they're mad at each other. They have a conversation about it that drags on way too long. I don't care.
Uhhhhh. I'm uncomfortable. Anyways
Listen to her. She may be seven but she's very wise.
Hi. Bye.
The wretched Forrester parental units. I will never forgive you for unleashing your demon son onto the world. NEVER.
Three guesses to what Butthead just witnessed.
You're really gonna thin out your lips, get all scowly and constipated just because you saw them make eye contact across a room?
Okay, it was pretty good eye contact, he should be concerned.
In the beginning of the episode while Rory and Lorelai are building their snowman for the contest, their competition includes an advanced snowman sculptor who seems as if he was planted to throw the contest in his favor ("a ringer") and they conclude it would be impossible to win against him. Rory tells Jess about The Ringer on their sleigh ride. At the end of the episode, L&R notice his snowman has been destroyed. I never connected the dots the first dozen times I've seen this episode that Jess destroyed that snowman to help Rory win the contest. And that's why I love this show. You can watch it over and over will always pick up on something new.
(Want to know another reason this is one of my favorite episodes? Nobody gets mad at Jess or gives him any bullshit. The Chuck thing doesn't count).
#gilmore girls#lorelai gilmore#rory gilmore#jess mariano#literati#denise rewatches gilmore girls#gilmore girls season 2#The Bracebridge Dinner
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