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#he's still an anxiety ridden mess
spooky-scary-hedgies · 9 months
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Just doodles of my son.
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judethejudas · 2 years
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Asking them on a date— Ghost and König Imagines
How would the boys react to you asking them on a date? How do they behave on the date? It’s quite fluffy.
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König:
- He’s shocked. Shocked and embarrassed, only because he’s never been asked out before.
- He’s immediately ridden with anxiety and deathly afraid he’ll disappoint you.
- But he agrees, a very quiet ‘yes’ is what he gives you.
- It’s dinner at his place. You know how he gets so shy in public that you’ll give him a home field advantage.
- He’s beyond relieved you suggested his place, but still nervous that he has to vigorously clean his apartment to make it spotless for you.
- He’s an incredible cook and he knows it, but he’s cooking for you so it HAS to be perfect. No room for flaws.
- He dresses nicely but he’s not overdressed. He wears his good dress shirt and slacks— which he still frets about because what if he looks ridiculous?
- When you see him, you tell him he looks very handsome and all his worries about himself are gone. You look incredible yourself and he definitely lets you know— very quietly and shyly though.
- König is a perfect gentleman. He takes your coat and pulls your chair out, offers you any beverages aside from the wine at the table.
- Of course he’s still quiet and sometimes stumbles on his words when he speaks but you don’t poke fun at him. And he greatly appreciates it.
- You gush about dinner and how delicious it is, König has to hide his little smile at that.
- The more wine he has, the more talkative he is. He’s less shy and expresses his interest in you, showing attentiveness when you speak, and talks about himself too if you ask him a question. Hardly a stutter.
- Soon you’re both wasted on wine and decide to sit on the couch. It’s only when you’re a bit more touchy with him that his blush returns.
“Are you alright, König?” You ask him, leaning in so closely to inspect the red tint on his cheeks. You’re painfully unaware of how close you are to him and it’s driving König insane.
“I-I’m alright, I swear..”
“Hm..” You squint your pretty eyes at him and see that the tips of his ears are pink too. “I don’t know, I feel like you have a fever coming on.”
You lean closer to his ear and he feels your wine ridden breath touch him. He has to suppress his shiver and turns his head away.
“I’m not sick.. I’m just..”
“Just what, König?”
He feels your fingers holding his chin and turning his face to you, and his eyes widen slightly in surprise.
“I…” He starts, but can’t find the words to describe how he’s feeling. He’s so lost in your eyes and the blush only intensifies. The wine is messing with him. One side fights to show you a confident man, the other wants to remain timid.
One of them wins this round.
Without thinking, the confident man in him kisses you.
You’re the one who’s surprised now and you gasp into the kiss.
He mistakes it for displeasure and immediately pulls away, going back to his shy personality.
“I’m so sorry, I should have asked for permission first-“
You quickly cut him off by kissing him and he falls back from the force, now laying on the couch with you on top of him. His eyes are wide in shock but he’s happy, so happy you like him too.
The two of you continue to kiss, with your hands gently stroking his chest and shoulders while his own nervously hold your hips.
But he’s not overthinking for once. There are so many things he could be worrying about but he refuses to ruin this moment.
Then you pull away and stare into his eyes, both of you panting quietly.
“Do you really feel the same way..?” He breathes out.
And you kiss him again.
Of course you feel the same.
__________
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Ghost:
- He could tell how nervous you were when you asked him on a date. How could he say no to that?
- He plays it cool, giving you a ‘sure, sounds like fun’ and you nearly die on the spot.
- In reality? He’s not used to dating. He prefers his own company and because of his past, he doesn’t want to burden anybody. So he never gets into anything serious. He’s more confident in the field with his teammates, but alone? With somebody? He’s a tad bit afraid.
- His social skills aren’t up to par, but he fakes it until he makes it. He’s confident but doubting himself on the inside.
- He’s going in casual attire, nothing fancy or else he feels as if he’s performing himself.
- You invited him to your place for dinner and he can tell you put a lot of effort into it. He thinks it’s so cute.
- Dinner is amazing and he tells you that, he hasn’t had a home cooked meal in so long so it’s much more special to him.
- You both chat and eat, mostly about how difficult it is to maintain and separate your civilian lives and the military. He’s happy he’s not alone in that. You both feel comfortable just being at the base and being with the team. It’s hard to connect to anyone outside of work.
- Ghost is a hard man to read and he knows you’re nervous the whole time. He hardly makes facial expressions and his voice is one toned. He worries inwardly about that but doesn’t show it. All he could do was hope you think he’s being genuine in his compliments and what he says to you. He just doesn’t know how to change.
- After dinner, you’re both on the couch with glasses of wine— continuing to chat with each other. He’s hoping the alcohol will make it easier for him to express himself. It does not.
- The wine doesn’t relax you either, if anything, you’re even more shy now. It was only when you didn’t want to look at him that he decided that this had gone far enough.
“You know I like you, right?”
You’re shocked at his words and nearly choke on your wine.
You quickly look at him after he says that, seeing his flat expression and hearing that monotone voice.
No way. He can’t possibly feel the same as you do.
“Are you sure?” You blurt out. And mentally slap yourself for asking such a dumb question. All you could do was berate yourself in your mind and tell yourself he doesn’t like you. His expression says it all and so does his voice. You have to look away again and lose yourself in lack of confidence.
You don’t even notice him moving closer.
“(Y/n).” He says, in a strangely softer voice than usual. It startled you and you silently gasp, seeing how close he is to you now.
You feel his hand taking the glass from your hand and putting it on the coffee table.
That’s when you’re looking into his eyes and he’s staring right back at yours. You see the emotion there, the softness he held for you. It wasn’t about the facial expressions or how he sounds. You were focusing on the wrong things.
He does like you.
His calloused hand comes up to hold your cheek and neither of you speak a word. You let yours and his actions do the talking now.
You both connect your lips together.
He’s gentle with you at first, showing that he doesn’t want to intimidate you or ever mean to. After a while, he shows more passion and interest by deepening the kiss and you have to lay back— with him crawling on top of you.
You feel him smiling in the kiss but you don’t dare open your eyes, you only let him show his emotions the way he’s comfortable doing it.
The tears dampen your lashes as you’re overwhelmed with joy.
You know he’s feeling the same.
_________
Hope you guys enjoyed— by the way I do take requests. I’m just a slow writer so you have to be patient-
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tsukimefuku · 1 month
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CHAPTER ONE: PUTATIVE SELF DEFENSE ❀ HIGURUMA SENSEI SERIES
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masterlist link | mdni!
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❀ putative self-defense.
when a person believes they are in imminent danger and acts in what they believe would be self-defense, when, in reality, the threat does not exist or is not as severe as perceived. 
wc: 5.9K ❀ pairing for the series: professor!higuruma x student!reader
❀ summary.
after your roommate fails to replenish the coffee in your dorm room, you drag your insomniac ass towards the cafeteria before heading to your first criminal law class. unfortunately, things don't go as expected — it's so, so much worse than you could have anticipated. at least, your personal torturer is very good-looking, and has the most beautiful hooked nose you have ever seen.
❀ Tags and c/w.
non-curse au. college au. silly slow-burn rom-com between professor and college student (this is purely a work of fiction, okay guys?) reader is kind of a mess (like, literally). this is cliché with some twists. nobara is the best and worst roomie ever. nobamaki is a thing here. nobody likes cafeteria coffee. higuruma has a best friend, i'm so happy about that. second hand embarrassment. misunderstandings are talked through and resolved. higuruma is a little unhinged, and we love him for that.
thank you so much @redlikerozez for betaing this 🥺
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Your morning was a clusterfuck.
Diving your face in ice cold water did absolutely nothing to wake you from your anxiety ridden all-nighter. The world felt like a half dazed hallucination by this point.
Your energy was running so low this morning that you wound up putting your jeans on top of your pajamas pants, throwing a coat over the rest of the mess, and twirling your hair into something that could barely be considered a bun, topping it all off with the ugliest scarf you had — a red polka-dot scarf.
It seemed to be a taunting from the Gods — this was, for some supernatural reason, the only scarf you ever found when you were running late, and you hated the thing, but feared that if you threw it away, some higher power would punish you, and you'd never find another scarf to wear.
You were also scared that if you tried taking a shower, you might end up sleeping under it.
"What are you doing?" your roommate asked, as you pulled your face from the bowl filled with water and ice cubes. "Jesus, you look like hell."
"Trying to crawl my way back to the world of the living. It's not working."
Nobara walked behind you and opened the mini-fridge, grabbing a single slice of cheese and rolling it up to eat it.
"Oh, a breakfast fit for the champions" you mocked, while patting your face with a tea towel.
She scoffed. "Get off my ass, I didn't have the time for groceries."
"Oh, you totally had the time, you just spent it all with your girlfriend in her room!"
Nobara grabbed a crumpled tissue that she found over the counter and threw it in your direction.
You dodged it because you weren’t sure what the fuck that tissue had been used for cleaning.
"Leave me the hell alone! I deserved it before classes started," she complained, pouting.
You laughed as you walked towards the coffee machine, to see if some liquid energy would be enough to pump you through the day.
"Aren't you supposed to be out there already? Weren't you going to head into criminal law today or whatever?" she asked.
And you were, actually.
"So, how is he?" you inquired, tapping around the coffee machine and behind it, looking for the coffee powder.
"Professor Higuruma, you mean?" Nobara got up and walked towards her bed, throwing herself over it like a rag doll. "I still haven't had class with him, but according to Maki, he's kinda weird."
"Your girlfriend's definition of weird for the male faculty members is too broad, Nobara. She said the same thing about at least four or five professors."
She shrugged. "According to gossip, professor Higuruma had to take some time off academia after his PhD because of a mental breakdown."
"Well, he is the guy that got two masters degrees simultaneously and one PhD right after. I guess that does things to a person" you mocked, opening the cabinet drawer. Where is the coffee?
"Oh, that's why he's the head of two chairs?!"
"Yup, Criminal Law and Criminal Procedure Law."
"Well, from what Maki has told me, he likes to quiz his students on the spot randomly," Nobara stated as she pulled her phone from her night stand and began texting.
After looking all around and not finding the coffee powder, you were very much annoyed. 
"Nobara, where is the coffee?"
"We don't have any," she answered nonchalantly, still with her eyes glued to her phone.
You whipped your head towards her so fast, you nearly hurt your neck.
"Nobara, I need coffee. This is not a drill! It's my first criminal law class!"
"Oh, future criminal defense attorney, you definitely need some coffee, no one in their good mind would be wearing whatever the hell that is," she noted, pointing at you. "Especially that ugly red thing around your neck. Why do you still have that?"
"Ugh, now I'll have to go into the cafeteria before class to drink their awful coffee, and it's entirely your fault. Wardrobe editing rights are officially revoked!"
You stepped towards the door grabbing your bag as you heard her ask, "Hhey, is that your pajamas top?"
"No!" you replied, pulling your coat over your hello kitty pajamas top, before going out.
***
I can't fucking believe this.
You got in line to buy an overpriced $2 coffee — overpriced because it basically tasted like dirty water flavored with the souls of the damned — as you looked at your watch nearly every twenty seconds or so.
This coffee was so bad you usually tried to cover it up with milk, syrup and whatever else they had at their clients' disposal, but the aftertaste was always — always — completely cursed.
While in line, you noticed the guy who stood in front of you, and got distracted from your hurry by his back, as silly as that might sound.
He was tall — not the tallest, but at least a head above you — and his black hair was neatly cut by the tail end where his neck met his black suit collar. His posture was a little crooked to the side, one shoulder hanging a little lower than the other, and it felt kind of… charming?
Realizing you were nearly burning a hole in the man's back with your eyes, you averted your gaze elsewhere.
This is pathetic. I'm pathetic.
You figured that you had to be really sleep-deprived — and, honestly, kinda lonely — to be simping over some random guy's back.
Not only that, but while waiting in line at the campus cafeteria, the less sexy place to ever exist.
Class. I need coffee. I need to get to class. I'm pathetic. I’m also almost late.
And almost late you were. Somehow, you managed to wait just until you'd be a little too fumbled on the clock in order to get your ass out of your dorm room's bed to do something about it, and never even bothered to check if there would be any coffee to be made.
Just one of the many minor self-sabotaging shit you pulled against yourself from time to time.
After grabbing the damned drink and tainting it with further things to mask its terrible taste, your sleepless and nearly-late ass, when running across the cafeteria, body slammed by accident the same guy that was in line right in front of you. He was then covered in your coffee — an unholy concoction of said beverage, cold water, milk, and pancake syrup for sweetening. 
Not only that, but to top it all off, you chuckled right after you began apologizing, actually laughing at the poor man.
It wasn't because the situation was even remotely funny, or that you were cackling at his humiliation. You just had the laughter response to stressful or embarrassing situations.
At church, during the national anthem, at an accident, or in the middle of a very hard test — whenever you were really stressed, you found yourself having to hold your urge to cackle.
Unfortunately, even after twenty-seven years, this was something you hadn’t quite mastered yet.
As you tried to grab some napkins from the counter behind him, you slipped, ceasing the laughter immediately.
Instant karma. Seems fair.
Before you hit the ground, though, he held you by your waist and with a hand on your arm. You felt the taut muscles under the suit enveloping you and pulling you back on your feet in one dexterous, swift motion. His shoulders were not slouched anymore.
"Shit, shit, I'm so sorry!" you exclaimed, trying to shuffle yourself away from him. His grip was tight, clearly from someone that had just been startled, and his body felt warm — especially considering you had just covered the poor guy in hot liquid.
As you parted yourself from him, you finally took a good look at the man. 
The best words to describe him right now were disheveled mess. His tie was crumpled, his white button shirt had a massive brown stain from the coffee spilled, his short black hair was messily pulled back leaving a few strands out to frame his forehead, and his ashy black eyes were clearly surprised as he tried to check if you were alright. 
And that beautiful hooked nose.
He was definitely brooding and good-looking — the tired, overworked, insomniac, bags under his eyes and two steps away from sleeping on his feet kind of good-looking.
The front certainly matches the back.
Then, realizing your mind was doing whirls about his appearance, you shook your head for a moment, dispersing the thoughts away.
"It's fine, just let me-" he answered, taping his hands around his suit, seemingly looking for something. 
You had nearly forgotten you were tight on time until you heard the bell ringing. He turned around startled when it rang, cussing something under his breath, which gave you the perfect opportunity to dash away.
"I'm very sorry! I'm really late for my next class, I need to run, but I'm so, so sorry!" you blurted as you took off running, feeling a tinge of guilt knowing full well you had left him alone to fend off for himself with that abominable coffee stain.
So, why clusterfuck?
When you arrived in class, having lost yourself on campus twice when running around like a dizzy duck in a fatigued haze trying to find the right classroom, you saw who was sitting at the professor's desk in front of the entire classroom.
That huge coffee spill was pretty visible, even if he had now closed his suit jacket on top of it.
Shit.
The man was fumbling around with some papers over his desk with one hand while he adjusted his glasses — that he wasn't wearing earlier — with the other.
You sat in the back of the classroom, which had an amphitheater architecture to it. If you were lucky enough, though, maybe he wouldn't notice you.
However, upon further inspection, you noticed that the back of the class was especially empty, and realized at that moment you were standing out like a sore thumb. 
This couldn't get any worse, could it?
You wished for a hole to appear right under your feet and drag you down.
"So, good morning to you all. I apologize for my late arrival. As you can all tell, I had to face some unforeseen circumstances," he began, pulling on the edge of his jacket suit to reveal the brown-colored Rorschach of shame plastered over his white shirt.
Some students laughed, and you recoiled in your seat, praying this was all just a first-day-in-class-embarrassment type of dream.
It wasn't.
"Welcome to Criminal Law I. My name is Higuruma Hiromi, and I'll be your professor. I hope you all can learn a thing or two from me," he said, before stepping in front of his desk and sitting over it.
"So, I'd like to begin this class with the following question: what is fairness?"
Some hands jumped up, and you slid yourself under your seat even further, surely to hit the ground if you sunk any deeper. 
Higuruma's eyes began darting around the classroom.
Something you'd learn in a second about him was that he liked to poke at the students who didn't seem keen in participating, just to create some stormy engagement and get truly unexpected answers.
The ones who lifted their hands, the classic know-it-alls, were the students he considered to be remarkably boring and utterly predictable.
"You," he stated, and it took you a few seconds — and multiple blinks — to realize his finger was pointing in your direction. "Girl with the red scarf, tell me what you think fairness is."
You were at a complete loss for words.
"I… I… Fairness…"
Then silence.
You couldn't muster up anything to say to save your life.
You really should have slept better.
He sighed, and tilted his head to the side.
"Guess I'll have to demonstrate it."
Nobody understood what the professor meant, and much to everyone's surprise, he began walking up towards you, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he did so.
Then, looking straight at you, he stood beside the exit door, and gestured towards it. 
"Girl with the red scarf, please, leave this classroom."
Before you could actually be offended that he didn't even ask your name, you felt your stomach drop, and your face glow a warm, deeply uncomfortable red.
Out of everything you thought could happen, getting kicked out of the classroom within the first five minutes into a lecture wasn’t even listed as one of the top 10 alternatives.
What the fuck? Isn't that a little excessive?
Speechless, you grabbed your backpack from the ground, and lifted yourself up, standing there for a few seconds, completely dumbfounded. The classroom was silent enough that a needle falling on the ground could be heard.
And then, suddenly, the urge came upon you, raining down like a hailstorm.
Laughter bubbled up your throat, and you coughed a little, pursing your lips shut, scrunching your face all around, trying to avoid any sound from leaking out.
He looked at you a little puzzled, and seemed to be wondering if you were about to have a stroke.
You began walking towards the door, but as you were about to cross it, he extended his arm in front of you, blocking your passageway.
"Stay there for a second."
"What?" you asked, coughing a little to shy the laughter away, and his face was once again briefly puzzled when he heard your voice.
A few seconds later, he softly shook off whatever thought that was, and resumed speaking.
"Is this fair? Asking a student to leave a classroom because they failed to answer an open-ended question?" he inquired the other students, waiting for someone to answer.
"N-no, it's not," some guy answered from the front.
Higuruma gestured for you to seat back where you were, and you clumsily stepped your way back, face flustered in utter and absolute embarrassment. This was definitely how bad it all could get. Is he dunking on me for spilling coffee on him and running? That's petty.
 The man was certifiably insane. He was lucky to be so good-looking.
"And why it is not?" he proceeded with the questioning, slowly walking back towards the front of the class again.
"It would be excessive to do so," another student answered.
"Correct. Precisely that, it would be excessive," Higuruma chimed, sitting back over his desk, legs mildly spread as he opened his suit jacket and mindlessly smoothed out his tie with one of his hands. "Criminal Law isn't just about subsuming a person's actions to something the law has described as a crime, and then mechanically submitting said person to some randomly prescribed penalty. Fairness is the most vital and important theoretical foundation when studying criminal law. Not answering a question could be considered some type of in-class offense, sure, and expulsion from the classroom is one possible way to punish the deviant student, but it would be disproportionate and unreasonable to do so."
His gravely voice filled that classroom with no effort whatsoever, and it was an actually pretty good exposition.
It was one thing to describe what a sunset looks like, and another, very different, was to actually show one happening in real time. Words paled in comparison to the crimson, purplish sky engulfing the end of a day.
Most of your teachers, up until this point, had simply begun writing something on the white board at the start of each class, and made less than memorable remarks while spitting out the theory written in the recommended books list in the syllabus. So distant, so abstract, so… Detached from real life.
This was thought-provoking. This was enthralling. Well, this was the reason you enrolled in law school in the first place. 
For a moment, you forgot this professor had just exercised his petty revenge on you, propping yourself up with trepidation. Your tiredness was completely forgotten as his monologue ensued.
He was the real deal.
"Fairness. It will be your guide to assess if a given penalty after a verdict is adequate or not, if someone who acted in self-defense should be found innocent or exceeded their rights in doing so… If the law itself is good enough as it is or should be subject to change, because a penalty might be too high for a seemingly innocuous offense that shouldn't even be a crime in the first place." 
Higuruma paused for a moment to let his students simmer on his words.
"Fairness is the be-all and end-all of Criminal Law. I need everyone to understand this before we proceed, because fairness will be our primary lens in this classroom when studying the subject. So, can I trust that all of you understood what fairness looks like, rather than what it can be conceptualized as?"
He darted his eyes in your direction, and you saw yourself unconsciously nodding in acquiescence. 
You were sure you caught a whiff of a smile on his face right before he resumed his introductory class of principles in criminal law.
***
“We are the only nerds that do this in the teacher’s lounge,” Higuruma stated, as he made his next move on the checkers board.
“You’re probably right,” Higuruma’s best friend replied in his pristine striped gray suit vest, as he thought for a second before making his own move and taking three consecutive pieces of Higuruma’s checkers as he did.
Higuruma groaned in response. Why does he always win on checkers? Goddammit.
“How are you so good at this, Kento? Let’s play chess, just so then I get to win” he complained, leaning back against his chair. “ I can see you winning this one in three moves.”
Nanami huffed. “Checkers was your idea. Besides, we both have our classes soon, there wouldn’t be enough time for a proper chess game.”
Higuruma removed his glasses and slid them inside one of his suit jacket’s inner pockets, brushing the tips of his fingers against his closed eyelids. He couldn’t catch a wink of rest the previous night, anxious to be back in a classroom after such a long time.
It all became very blurry, so he put his glasses back on.
Higuruma didn’t know if he was eager, nervous, happy or dreading this day.
Perhaps a mix of everything and then some.
“I needed something to wake me up. I’ve barely slept, and I’m in dire need of some coffee.” 
“You could try drinking the coffee from the teacher’s lounge,” Nanami pointed out, gesturing his head in the direction of a creepy looking and unkempt thermal bottle. “I wouldn’t advise you on it, though. Only professor Ieiri has been brave enough to drink it so far.”
“I guess I’ll take my chances with the foul cafeteria coffee, I might survive that.”
Nanami smiled as he looked at his friend.
“You’re too overly dramatic.”
At that, Higuruma scoffed.
“And you’re too underly dramatic. That’s why I teach the passionate, great chair of Criminal Law, and you’re responsible for the boring, sleep-inducing chair of Commercial Law.”
“It pays the bills pretty well at my firm,” the other professor retorted. 
Higuruma lifted an eyebrow, as if offended that Nanami thought that argument would dissuade him from his stance.
They were both silent for a moment before Nanami spoke again, noticing the deep eye bags on Higuruma's face.
“Are you having trouble sleeping?”
“No more than the usual,” Higuruma replied, shuffling on his chair, still focused on the checkers board.
Nanami lifted an inquisitive eyebrow, silent for a while, and Higuruma sighed.
“I mean it. I’m fine.”
Still a little unsure, Nanami nodded.
“Okay. Just reach out and come to my office if you need anything,” he offered, slight concern masked under the monotone of his voice. 
“Aw, he likes me,” Higuruma playfully chanted. “So thoughtful of you, my dear.”
“Tsk, shut up,” Nanami scoffed as he got up, taking his neatly folded blazer on his bent arm, “and it’d take me two moves instead of three to have this victory over you.”
“Seriously?!” Higuruma exclaimed, glancing at the board. Upon further inspection, he realized his friend was right. “Shit.”
“Hiromi, go drink your coffee at once. You’re barely functional right now, there is absolutely no way you could teach a class in the state you’re in.”
“Kento, I could teach criminal law in my sleep,” Higuruma mused before lifting himself up. Nanami sighed as Higuruma exited the room.
***
This might be the worst coffee I’ve ever drank, Higuruma thought to himself as he put his cup over the counter and removed his glasses to pinch on his nose. It was all but a failed attempt to air out the foul taste of that watered down, sad excuse for a coffee.
He tried drinking it with nothing — no sugar, no milk, no sweetener, but this atrocity begged for anything to mask the old powder aftertaste.
After folding his glasses and throwing them in one of his suit’s inner pockets, Higuruma let out a heartfelt sigh, just hoping for things to go smoothly that day.
He'd have his hopes torn to shreds in seconds.
Some loud, hasty steps coming in his direction caught his attention, but as soon as he turned to face whoever that was, Higuruma was met with a hot splash all over his shirt and tie.
You have to be kidding me.
“Shit! I’m so sorry!”
He heard a female voice coming from the blurred face right in front of him. Her voice was what he’d call an unusually sweet — if worried — voice. It had a genuinely kind melodic quality to it.
Even if hasty, her words sounded like a heartfelt apology.
Then, she… chuckled? 
Hm… What?
She seemed to lean over dramatically and grab something from behind his back. 
However, on the way back with her arm, her body brushed against his in a worrying fashion, and Higuruma quickly realized she was about to fall. Even though he was over 24 hours sleepless, adrenaline and his reflexes kicked in, as he held her before she could hit the ground, pulling her against him to stand on her feet.
He was still somewhat disoriented from lack of sleep, and failed to realize his hand was still holding her arm intently before the woman squiggled away from his grip.
There was a red blurry thing under her also blurred face.
Only then did he realize he should probably see her face and talk to her properly about the debacle.
The professor said it was fine and began tapping around his suit, not remembering in which pocket exactly he threw his glasses in. However, before he found it, the bell that indicated the time for the first class rang, and Higuruma realized he had completely lost track of time. 
"Fuck," first class and already running late. 
The woman seemed to apologize and ran away, leaving him dumbfounded.
The professor finally managed to find his glasses, fishing them out of his pocket and putting them on, glad that his next class was at the building just around the corner. 
He walked hastily towards it, and got there in less than a couple of minutes, seizing the opportunity to check on his state on the mirror as he entered the elevator.
The coffee stain was humongous and very evident on his white shirt, but he was glad that at least his black tie seemed to fend off fine from the beverage. As Higuruma passed his fingers over the fabric of both pieces, however, it was somewhat sticky. 
He let out a disheartened sigh, stepping out on the corridor and into the classroom, placing his briefcase on the side of his desk.
Now, what will I teach these people today?
Hiromi began ruffling around his papers trying to find the course syllabus, and realized he hadn't brought it with him. These papers were nothing but useless administrative shenanigans, so he decided to wing it in any way he could to illustrate criminal law for the students.
The thing is, how can you effectively grab someone's attention when it's 7 o'clock in the morning, and most people are completely hungover?
With adrenaline, of course.
***
The rest of the class went on without a hiccup, and you had made much more notes than you anticipated you would. His voice had a weird calming and focusing effect on you, as much as you hated admitting it — also, it wasn't so hard accompanying him walking around making his exposition when his face looked like that.
However, you decided you'd talk to him, first off because it would be incredibly uncomfortable to keep going to both of his classes for six months without ever addressing the coffee faux pas, and second because you had just been victimized by the pettiest revenge known to mankind by a college professor. 
You kind of deserved it, but still. It was pretty immature, even if he was Dr. Genius who just taught the best class you had ever seen in your life.
"So, students, we'll have a quick test this week," Higuruma stated, "the Dean has requested that all professors use these to assess your knowledge every month, and I'd like to get this over with as soon as possible."
Many sighs and displeased grunts could be heard around the classroom. He leaned over his desk as he sat, putting his papers away in his briefcase.
"I know, I don't like it either, but at least you'll only need to study a week's worth of content, not a month."
Some hm, fine, ugh, were uttered by the students as they left the classroom. You walked hesitantly behind them all, waiting for everyone to leave before you could speak to him alone. 
You were already going to be remembered as the girl mock expelled from the classroom. No one needed to know you also had assaulted their professor with a desecrated cup of coffee before that.
As you stepped in front of his desk, he lifted his gaze to meet yours.
"Yes?"
Something you hadn't anticipated was that looking at him — and his hooked nose — up close like this would jumble your thoughts around.
Oh, shit. He's handsome.
Dumbified, you spat out the first thing you could think of.
"So, professor, I'm the student you fake expelled earlier," you stated, realizing he obviously already knew that.
Brilliant. Off to a great start.
Higuruma nodded, feeling something prickling at the back of his brain as he heard your voice for a second time.
"What did you think? Was it a good way to convey this class motif?" he asked, finally closing his briefcase and putting it on the ground, completely ignoring the fact that it was probably an uncomfortable experience for all of the people involved, especially you.
You were a little incredulous at how oblivious he seemed to be, and it annoyed you. Was this out of good heart, or was he playing dumb?
"It was a good exposition, professor, but I wanted to talk about something else," you answered.
“5000 yen.”
“... What?”
“That’s my law firm’s hourly fee.”
You stood silent. He chuckled a little, shrugging back.
“I’m joking. I don’t even have a practice. Tell me what you need.”
Is this guy for real?
You cleared your throat before continuing.
“It felt horrible to be on the spot like that out of nowhere, without any knowledge as to what was going on.”
After blurting it out, you braced yourself, knowing full well by now that professors were usually pretty big ego'd kind of people. Nonetheless, this had to be said, at least for the sake of the next student he decided to torture with one of his experiments.
He looked at you with wide eyes, and seemed to ponder for a moment.
“Oh, I see. My apologies,” Higuruma offered in earnest, while his face softened.
You were very surprised.
“Oh, okay," you mumbled as you scratched the back of your neck, "I accept your apology. But maybe you should really give the student a heads-up next time you intend to do that.”
“That would presume I consider that students are people, and not minions to torture.”
Uh?
“Also a joke.”
“You’re not very good with those.”
Did I say that out loud? 
He simply stared surprised at you, seemingly a little shocked.
I did say it out loud.
"Fuck."
And that too. 
After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, Higuruma suddenly chuckled, much to your surprise. Your eyes widened, and you stared at him, extremely confused as to what was up with this guy.
“You're a sincere person," he noted, and you shrugged hesitantly.
Higuruma was definitely amused at this exchange.
He then proceeded.
"Being sincere is good, but my best friend always warns me to try keeping it to myself most of the time. I don’t listen, of course, but maybe you should for now. People get offended easily.” 
His exposition made you feel a little less out of place — and less alone, for what it was worth. You instantly remembered your parents used to chide you for blurting out things like that out of nowhere, instead of keeping them in your head like other people do, according to them.
You didn't realize you were smiling as you mindlessly opened your coat.
He took notice of your shirt, and began slowly realizing there was something off about it.
"Is that usual?" you asked, out of the blue.
He shook his head, being pulled out of his head. "What?"
"The mock expulsion?"
"Heavens, no."
"Then, why?" you inquired.
He rubbed his face with his hands.
"Because I needed something to wake mine and everybody else's brain up. Classes shouldn't be this early, and I didn't get a wink of sleep last night."
Higuruma was still out of sorts, spilling the tea of his insomniac state to one of his random students whom he had just met.
"Oh, me neither!" you told him, also absentmindedly, on a stream of consciousness rant towards a professor you were talking to for the first time. "Classes should start after noon, at the very least…"
"I know, right? Some things shouldn't be a crime, but making people wake up this early for class definitely ought to be."
You laughed softly, and you both kept silent for a moment, before you remembered what you thought was the reason for the mock punishment.
"Oh, professor… I'm sorry about the coffee."
He was confused for a few moments before broadening his eyes as he finally realized it.
No wonder Higuruma felt like he recognized your voice from somewhere, and now he took a good look at the red smudge he had seen earlier under what he figured was your face.
It was the ugliest scarf he had ever seen.
"I came here wanting to ask if you had done the fake expulsion thing as some sort of…" you sighed, a little ashamed. "Well, I'd like to apologize for staining your clothes, and offer to get you new ones, or at least pay for your laundry fee if needed."
He lifted one eyebrow at you before he resumed speaking.
"I didn't catch your face then. I mean, I didn't recognize you at all," Higuruma answered, "so no. But I'd never… Well, you barely know me, so you wouldn't know, but my opinion on the matter is that professors that exert selfish vendettas against students, for whatever reason, are absolute fools."
"You didn't recognize me? Say what now?"
He pointed at his glasses, and you finally understood completely how all of this petty revenge narrative was entirely in your head.
"I-I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to-"
"It's okay."
"But still…"
He sighed.
"It was a possibility, given how things in a college setting usually go, but that is why we investigate things further before prosecuting, right? A narrative might make a lot of sense, up until you confront it with the gathered evidence."
You joined your hands in front of you, embarrassed.
"Yes, I guess so," you answered, "but please, let me at least pay to get your clothes cleaned."
The professor shook his head.
"Absolutely not. You're an undergraduate student. I've been one, I'm quite aware of the financial hardships most of you endure as I've struggled with them myself not so long ago."
Even though you felt somewhat uncomfortable about not evening things out, he was right. This money would be fairly missed — you were already missing the $2 worth of coffee you didn't manage to drink.
"It was an accident, you didn't cover me with your beverage intentionally. Also, you had to leave because you were late for my class," he paused, "and I'm actually flattered you'd leave someone to fend off for themselves against that foul cafeteria coffee just to run to one of my classes."
You chuckled a little, and he proceeded.
"So, it's okay. You don't have to pay me for anything. This is fine."
You sighed, truly relieved, and he was glad you came to talk to him and properly apologize for the blunder.
"Thank you for your time and kindness, professor. I hope you have a good day."
He bowed his head slightly.
"Same to you."
However, something was still scratching at the back of his mind.
"Hm, hey… since we are on the topic of clothing and I just let you off the hook on paying for my dry cleaning…" Higuruma said, and you stopped midway towards the door, turning to face him.
"This might be an odd question, but I'm very curious."
"Hm… what is it?"
He pointed at your sleeping shirt, now evident under the open coat.
"Are those pajamas?"
You immediately pulled your coat over your hello kitty top, lifting one eyebrow in pathetic defiance.
"Of course… not?"
Higuruma thought to himself that you were turning into one of the most unique students he ever had.
"Do you intend to be an attorney?"
"... yes?" You answered, with some suspicion.
He huffed.
"Then improve your lying game for Court. You can do your crazy, but defend it as if it was the utmost truth in the universe, okay?"
Higuruma couldn't quite explain it, but this conversation with you was strangely amusing.
Maybe going back to the classroom wouldn't be so difficult after all, if even half of his students were a little out of sorts like this.
"... Okay," you replied, removing your hand and letting your pathetic sanrio pajamas shirt show once again.
"So, are those pajamas?" he inquired again, more incisively.
You straightened yourself and made a fake serious expression.
"Of course not."
"Much better," Higuruma answered with an actual smile.
The way his cheek creased around his mouth was weirdly charming, just as most things about him, it seemed.
Trying not to stare, you smiled back at Higuruma and turned around, leaving for your next class with heat prickling against your cheeks.
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Tag list:
@arusearu @yammy-yammy-yama @markleeisdabestdrug @redlikerozez @delirious-donna
@alwaysfreakingout @murderofravens @senseifupa @higurumapet @cindyneko-strider 
@ohhheymessa @actuallysaiyan @bigbaddulce
227 notes · View notes
plutoccult · 6 months
Text
BRINGING THEM TO THANKSGIVING (PART TWO)
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characters: reiner braun, bertholdt hoover, levi ackerman, erwin smith, and hange zoe (gender neutral pronouns for hange!)
description: headcanons on taking your favorite aot characters home to your family for thanksgiving.
read part one here
author’s note: hello! thank you for all the love on the first part of these headcanons. from my love all mine blowing up to also part one of the thanksgiving headcanons, i’m over the moon. i hope these headcanons are just as good, and happy (early) thanksgiving to those who celebrate! maybe i’ll do something christmas related in the future? in the meantime, i’m working on the next part of my haikyuu x the office au, and i hope more people will check it out! <3
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REINER BRAUN:
— listen, i love this man, but he’s a mess. he wants to impress your family so bad! it’s so bad that he’s so in his head that he can’t even focus on having a good time. it’s not until you have a little talk with him in private and insist he let loose and try to have fun that he evades his overthinking head.
— despite his mess of a brain, he’s a total catch in the eyes of your grandmother and aunties. they think he’s a total HOTTIE! they can’t believe you bagged him, but at the same time are so impressed. you can’t help but roll your eyes at such comments while reiner has a hard time believing he’s that attractive.
— even if he’s not as tall as bertholdt, he’s still so tall, but has a better time navigating his stature as compared to his much taller best friend. your little cousins are quite amazed by his build, and he basically puts all the men in your family to shame in terms of muscle. good for you, honestly.
— at dinnertime, he feels more at ease and not as nervous when it came to making a good impression. he already left a positive mark on thanksgiving, and that mark continued throughout the rest of the night. everyone sure had no problem making sure that big boy was fed and was thrilled how much he loved everything. all in all, a success.
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BERTHOLDT HOOVER:
— bertholdt is such a shy man!! my god!! he’s worse than reiner in terms of nervousness! no wonder they make such a great pair, they’re both wrecks. but bertholdt is sweaty, beet red mess when he walks through the door, and he can only pray no one notices and you don’t scold him for it (which you never would, but he can’t help but think you’ll do it anyway).
— he’s immediately overwhelmed by everyone greeting him all at once, a million words overlapping on another, and you have to tell everybody to call down and not scare him off right off the bat. bertholdt wouldn’t know what he’d do without you, really.
— honestly, take a shot every time someone mentions how tall bertholdt is. you’d be dead from alcohol poisoning before dinnertime, so don’t even try it. but seriously, everyone is so in awe of his height, it’s insane. you’re sometimes tempted to joke he’s not done yet growing just to make everyone sweat a little, but you don’t want to make your man even more flustered than he already is.
— unfortunately, bertholdt is too ridden with anxiety to properly eat his dinner, even if the small bites he ate were absolutely delicious. luckily for both of you, you get to take leftover plates home! the next day, he devoured his leftovers and ended up eating your plate too, but you weren’t mad. at least he enjoyed your family’s cooking in a place where he felt comfortable; at home with you.
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LEVI ACKERMAN:
— you almost didn’t want to bring levi to thanksgiving. not because you didn’t want him to meet your family, but because he seemed so iffy on the subject of thanksgiving in the past. but, when you decided to take a chance and ask him about it, he was—much to your surprise—far more than willing to come along with you and even suggested the two of you bring a dish for the occasion (secretly because it was the one thing he could trust to eat).
— the two of you arrive, and you swore levi’s resting serial killer face would be the ultimate death of the holiday. your mother almost jumped when she opened the door and met levi’s piercing gaze, but was thankfully put at ease when he politely handed her the casserole he made with a soft smile. he was even nice enough to give her reheating instructions too. what a king.
— levi shockingly has a soft spot for children. you didn’t know that about him until now when you saw him cradling your baby niece in his arms with ease while she napped peacefully. the sight almost brought you to tears, seriously.
— even if levi didn’t have much of a family growing up, he could find solace in yours, secretly in his mind hoping he could always have things be this way. you were happy to see him happy, even if he had his own quirky ways of showing it, and you were so glad to have taken the leap to invite him to thanksgiving this year.
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ERWIN SMITH:
— YOUR HONOR. i’m about to get oddly passionate about this for some reason, but hear me OUT. erwin is literally THEE man you want to bring home to meet your family. so serious. he’s every parent’s dream son-in-law. a father can only hope their child brings home someone like him, and luckily, you did!
— he’s such a charmer, oh my god. he just exudes bde, i’m not sorry (this is crazy coming from me, who was never a huge fan of erwin). he instantly wins over your family. you can’t even be shocked because he does this with every single person he meets, even you, who was swooned upon first meeting.
— he’s good with all the kids, just showing how more perfect he truly is, if that’s even humanly possible. everyone can’t stop talking about how awesome your man is, and you actually are proud of yourself for that. it’s about time you bagged an absolute 10 out of 10.
— when all is said and done, nobody wants him to go, they want him to stay forever! but don’t worry, he’ll come around for christmas, new year’s, and every other holiday after that.
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HANGE ZOE:
— ah, my precious hange. they have their quirks, but that’s what makes them so wonderful, and that’s also why you fell for them in the first place. you can only hope your family falls for hange just like you did.
— honestly, hange just lights up the room. their presence has an instant effect on everyone, and some would argue the holiday for better once you two walked in together.
— i imagine hange talks about their inventions to your parents, showing examples of their previous work. it’s all impressive, really. you’ve got a real smarty pants on your hands, and your parents sure are happy about it! they’re just glad you’re not with someone who’s boring.
— they’re a total child at heart, not in a bad way. hange will play with the little ones as if they’re a kid themselves. they’ll even give out piggyback rides but with a little twist. the twist? bouncing around whilst a child is on their shoulders. thankfully, no one throws up.
— during dinner, hange probably thinks of good thanksgiving themed inventions and politely asks to write their ideas down on their phone since there’s a strict no phone rule at the dinner table. thankfully, your family can make an exception… as long as they’re mentioned in hange’s success story.
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© plutoccult / 310802. please do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my content in or outside of tumblr. reblogs are appreciated <3
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cosmicanakin · 4 months
Text
i only have eyes for you.
adult content | minors do NOT interact
pairing. vinnie hacker x female reader.
outline. your feelings for vinnie resurface after years of denying them. a confession and passionate moment change everything, but dating publicly would bring unexpected reactions your love must withstand.
contains. angst, internalized anxiety, stress, uncertainty, references to past rejection, toxic fans, social media influence, alcohol use, marijuana use, & brief mentions of smut.
authors note. this wip has been sitting in my drafts since nov. it was because i didn't like how it was written but whatever!
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you took a long drag from the joint, holding the smoke in your lungs for a moment before exhaling slowly. leaning against the railing of the balcony, you gazed out at the party unfolding in the yard below. lights danced around as people mingled and laughed together, lost in the warmth of the summer night.
beside you, your friend maddy plucked the joint from between your fingers and brought it to her lips. “so,” she said, breathing out a cloud of smoke, “what's really going on with you and vinnie?”
you sighed, reaching up to idly twist a strand of hair around your finger. “it’s complicated.”
maddy arched an eyebrow. “come on, girl. spill the tea. i know something’s been off between you two lately.”
for a few moments you didn’t respond, mulling over how to explain the tangled mess of feelings you'd been wrestling with for over three years now. ever since you first met vinnie at a meet-up for social media influencers, there had been an undeniable spark of attraction. he was smart, funny, and genuinely kind in a way that was rare in your line of work. over countless collaborations and late-night talks, your friendship blossomed into something deep and profound.
but there was always an underlying hesitation, a lingering question neither of you fully voiced - what would happen if things shifted from friendship to something more? vinnie was one of the biggest names in the influencer world, with millions of devoted fans on every platform. his followers were fervently protective of him, and the idea of a potential girlfriend stirred up their jealousy. you hadn’t wanted to put him in that position or deal with the backlash yourself.
a flash of memory cut through your thoughts - a party not unlike this one a year ago, where you and vinnie had both had too much to drink. in a private moment away from prying eyes, he’d confessed his feelings and leaned in for a kiss. but you’d panicked and pulled away, stammering some excuse about not wanting to complicate your friendship any further. the hurt on his face haunted you for weeks after.
things had been awkward and stilted between you ever since. even though you missed his friendship dearly, you had distanced yourself to avoid facing the raw emotions still simmering under the surface. the same painful longing lingered in his eyes whenever you were together by chance at events like tonight.
you sighed again, passing the dwindling joint back to maddy. “i think i’m in love with vinnie,” you admitted softly. “have been for a long time. but i was too scared to admit it.”
before maddy could respond, the glass door behind you slid open with a rattle. “well isn’t this a party,” came a familiar voice rich with amusement.
you froze, stomach dropping as vinnie sauntered onto the balcony with his friend jordan in tow. heart thudding, you took in his windswept hair and lazy smile, eyes lingering on the tantalizing strip of toned abdomen where his shirt had ridden up. even after all this time, his natural charm and good looks still made your insides twist pleasantly.
“hope we’re not interrupting girl time,” jordan said, reaching to yank the joint from maddy’s hold and take a hit.
“not at all,” maddy shrugged, meeting your gaze meaningfully. you shot her a pleading look, silently begging her not to spill what you’d just admitted. thankfully, she took the hint.
an awkward silence fell as the four of you forced small talk, dancing around the suffocating tension hanging thick in the air. you could feel vinnie’s gaze burning into your skin but didn’t dare meet it, keeping your eyes trained downwards.
after what felt like an eternity, maddy stood and smoothed down her skirt. “jordan, i think i saw some old friends by the pool - wanna go say hi?”
jordan seemed bemused by her sudden eagerness but didn’t protest. with a quick wave, the two of them slipped back inside, leaving you alone with vinnie for the first time in over a year. your heart was now pounding so loudly you were sure he must be able to hear it.
the silence stretched on, heavy with everything left unsaid between you. finally, vinnie spoke up softly. “are you ever going to tell me what actually happened that night?”
you chanced a glance at him, taking in his imploring eyes and the rawness of his expression. all the tangled emotions you’d tried to bury for so long welled up inside you, spilling uncontrollably into the truth. “i was scared,” you confessed in a small voice. “i care about you so much, vinnie, but i didn’t want to deal with the backlash if we got together. your fans can be so cruel, and i didn't want to put you through that.”
vinnie’s face fell. “so you pushed me away to...protect me? is that what you’re saying?”
you nodded miserably. “i know it was shitty of me. i should have been honest instead of shutting you out. it’s just...easier to avoid all the drama, you know? we work so well as friends.”
“is that still how you feel?” vinnie asked quietly, taking a measured step towards you.
you closed your eyes, heart in your throat. in a strained whisper, you said, “no, that's not how i feel. not anymore.”
vinnie reached out tentatively, cupping your cheek to turn your face towards his. “hey...look at me.”
reluctantly, you met his gaze. the tender understanding in his eyes made the dam finally break, tears welling uncontrollably. “i’m so sorry. i’m such a fucking coward. the truth is...i think i’m in love with you too.”
in an instant his arms were around you, pulling you close against the solid strength of his chest. you clung to him fiercely as all the pent up emotion came crashing down - grief for the wasted time, fear of opening your heart, and overwhelming relief at finally being honest. vinnie held you through it, stroking your hair softly and murmuring gentle reassurances until your tears subsided.
when you pulled back, his thumb brushed delicately under your eyes to wipe away the lingering moisture. “you don't have to be afraid anymore,” he said, cupping your face entreatingly. “i don’t care what anyone says. i just want you, okay?”
heart in your throat, you nodded. vinnie’s eyes shone with an intensity you’d never seen before as he slowly lowered his head. when his lips met yours it was warm, deep, and tasting faintly of beer and promises. you kissed him back fervently, pouring all the pent up longing of three years into the moment. his hands roamed your sides eagerly, holding you flush against him as if terrified to let go again.
when you finally parted for air, vinnie rested his forehead against yours, grinning broadly. “so does this mean you’ll be my girl?”
you couldn't help matching his smile, ecstatic joy bubbling up inside you. “yes,” you breathed, cupping his jaw to place another ardent kiss on his lips. “i want to be yours, vin.”
his responding smile was dazzling. taking your hand in his, vinnie leaned down to discard the abandoned half-smoked joint. “come on, let’s get out of here,” he said, threading his fingers through yours and tugging you towards the door.
you followed willingly, heart soaring as vinnie led you through the pulsing party. his bedroom door clicked shut behind you, muffling the sounds of revelry below. alone together at last with nothing left unsaid, you gave in fully to the passion and promise of the night.
vinnie’s kiss seared away any lingering hesitation, hands wandering eagerly as you grazed your palms over his lean torso, still hard despite the late hour. with a gentle nudge, he laid you back against his pillows, lavishing open-mouthed kisses along your jaw and down the sensitive skin of your neck. you sighed blissfully, carding your fingers through his soft curly hair.
his lips were warm and soft, his tongue teasing the shell of your ear, and you shivered with delight. “i love you,” he whispered, voice husky. “i’ve loved you from the moment i first met you.” you smiled into his hair, fingers twining in it.
“i love you too, vinnie.” he grinned, his eyes shining. “then why are we still wearing clothes?” he rolled off you, sitting up to peel off his shirt. you followed suit, tossing yours aside as he pulled off his jeans.
you watched him, breathless, as he stood before you, naked. he was beautiful, every inch of him, and you couldn't wait to explore. you sat up, pulling off your panties, then reached for him, tugging him closer.
you kissed him again fervently, and he moaned into your mouth, his hands roaming over your body. you broke away, eyes dark with desire, and slid your hand between his legs, wrapping your fingers around his hard cock. he gasped, thrusting into your grip.
“oh, fuck, yes,” he groaned, leaning forward to kiss you again. you quickly broke away, a wicked smile playing on your lips, and stood up. you straddled him, lowering yourself onto his waiting cock, sighing with pleasure as he filled you completely.
“fuck, you feel so good,” he murmured, cupping your ass as you rocked your hips against him. your fingers tangled in his hair as you rode him, harder and faster, until you both cried out in ecstasy, collapsing against each other.
you lay there, breathing heavily, his arms wrapped around you. “that was amazing,” you panted. “you’re amazing,” he replied, kissing your neck. you smiled, snuggling closer. “i love you,” you whispered, and he smiled.
“i love you too, baby.”
you fell asleep, content and happy, knowing that you had found the one person who understood you better than anyone else.
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usedtobecooler · 2 years
Note
Oh my fuck if you used your writerly powers for Billy Knight *chews on pillow*
How about making Billy come twice, he'd be so desperate to be good for you but overstimulated and a mess. Can be from riding him until he's hard again, sucking him off, idk my eyeballs are gonna explode if I think about it too much 😱
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Pairing | Billy Knight x fem!reader
Warnings | sexual content (18+ minors dni), handjobs (not really, it's over his pants lol), oral m receiving, piv sex, unprotected sex (wrap it kids), dubious content (possibly? it's very much wanted but billy doesn't voice his consent), premature ejaculation, overstimulation, mentions of poor mental health, mentions of medication, mention of physical ticks, health facility setting, fluff, angst, billy is incredibly touch starved.
Word Count | 3k
A/N | this was purely self-indulgent because i love billy so much, i've not proofread it so if you see any mistakes no you didn't
"Bill, how longs it been since a girl touched you?" You ask quietly, leaning out to rest your hand on his knee. You don't miss the way his leg jerks a little under the touch, like you'd burned him with a match.
"I don't - I don't know. Not since I was in school, a while ago." Billy's voice is thick, wet, accent shining through with every word he speaks. You can tell he's mortified by your question, the way his tick kicks up a little after being stagnant the whole of your visit so far, the constant swiping of his nose turning it red raw.
You wince a little at his confession, can't help but screw your face up - it's obvious that you look sad for him. He hadn't had it easy his whole adulthood, really, being constantly in and out of hospital for various mental health disorders meant that he was starved in the affection department, too busy trying to get better before he could focus on a girl.
He looks like he's getting better, that you can tell. He was finally allowed visitors in his room, not in the mess hall, which meant he was being trusted alone without constant supervision. He also just looked cleaner cut; the black Henley adorning his toned torso suited him so much better than the baggy grey hoodie he always wore. His hair was neat, combed back, though his stubbly beard still remained.
He looked nicer with it, you thought. Not so much like a scared schoolboy, it made him look older in a more masculine way. He'd told you the medication was helping, too, that he was sleep schedule was improving and he wasn't so anxiety ridden all the time, scared that somebody was coming to get him.
This private place had been better than anywhere the NHS had sent him, clearly having money was the big factor in whether mental health sufferers really ever got the help they needed. You didn't pry him on where the money came from to pay for the treatment, sometimes it was better to stay out of the Knights' business.
"Where were you, uh, going with this?" Billy's shaky voice snaps you out of your trance, and you realise you'd been staring back and forth between his face, chest and crotch unabashedly this entire time. Your cheeks heat up, and you glance away to look at the clock ticking behind his head, suddenly becoming so interesting.
"You'll think I'm being so silly," You sputter, subtly fanning your face with your hand that wasn't still slapped on Billy's knee, in a bid to cool down a little, embarrassment taking over your whole body, "I just thought that, maybe, it'd help you relax a little if you, or if I helped you... take the edge off."
Billy cocks his head to the side, confusion etching onto his features before it dawns on him exactly what you meant. He flushes a deep red, "Oh, um. The prescription pills they have me on s-sort of... stop me from being able to f-finish, uh, lot of the time."
You're the reason he's stuttering, you know that and it's making you want to lunge at him and wrap him up in a big hug to calm him down. You've clearly mortified him with your question, too forward and full on for somebody who may as well still have been a virgin with the amount of time that'd gone by since he'd last been in any sexual encounter that wasn't with his own right hand.
"I can... well I can try?" You say it like it's a question, eyes flitting back to look at him once more, the heat on his face making him look even more endearing, his long dark lashes fanning across the tips of his cheeks as he closes his eyes and sucks in a sharp breath.
Your hand had inched further up his thigh without you even realizing, and you gasp when the back of your hand brushes against his obvious erection through his dark jogging bottoms. You question now if it's not actually embarrassment that's making him flush so dark - but arousal instead.
"You'll tell me if I'm reading this wrong, yeah?" You ask him gently, voice barely above a whisper as you slide your palm over his cock through the thick material of his pants, clear outline making it obvious he had no underwear on underneath. Your breath hitches as you go to curl your hand around his length, so thick that your fingers can't wrap around it fully.
You're watching in awe as a wet patch starts to form on the soft cotton, dampening it until it's stained darker, whilst you go between ghosting your hand up and down gently and squeezing softly. Billy can't rip his eyes away from you, drifting back and forth between your shocked face and your hand grasping at him.
"I'm gonna cum, darlin'. Sorry, shit," Billy's hand claws onto the leather arm of his chair and he's hunching in on himself, coming with a low, gruff moan, painting the inside of his sweatpants with his release.
Your eyes widen in shock, a gasp escaping your lips as you sit back and take in what just happened. Your thighs clench, a wave of heat overcoming your body at the thought of him coming undone so easily under your touch.
"M'sorry, this is so embarrassing." Billy's whiny little voice breaks the silence, he throws his head back and rubs at his face with his hands. They're big enough that they completely engulf his features, making his head seem small in comparison. In that split second, you decide you want - no, need to have his hands all over you. You needed to show him what it was like to touch a girl, feel her go pliant under his touch.
"It's not." You say it all too quick, hand tearing away from his crotch to grab at his arm and pull his hands away from his face so he could look at you properly. His eyes are watering, big brown orbs clearly showing his distress and it makes your heart ache, "It's not embarrassing, Bill. It's normal, you've not been touched by another person in, what, seven years? Maybe longer? Don't feel like you should be better at this."
You slip out of your own chair across from Billy, sliding onto your knees in front of him with a dull thud, shuffling between his spread legs, "Can I touch you again? Proper this time?" Your voice is barely above a whisper, batting your lashes at him prettily, "I promise I'll make it good for you."
Billy shakes out a stuttered sigh, cock already kicking up again in interest at the thought of your bare flesh connecting with his own. You're so gorgeous, he's thought about you in this way for so long, but he always thought you'd do better than him. That you could do better than him.
He thought you were only still friendly with him out of pity, at the end of the day you had been Jimmy's friend first. You hadn't had any dealings with Jimmy in years, yet you always still checked in with Billy, visited often. Maybe it was because you knew he didn't really have any other friends, nobody to look out for him but you.
Billy hazards a glance down at you when he feels your fingers brush over the waistband of his soiled sweats, helps you by lifting his hips up when you tug at them to pull them down. You leave them to pool at his ankles, no patience to take them off completely.
He's fully hard again just at the sight of you on your knees in front of him, leaky tip slapping against his belly, his previous load still glistening down his shaft, perfect for using to lube him up.
"Can I put my mouth on you?" You ask tentatively, fingers ghosting over his balls, up his shaft to wrap deftly around the tip. You pull his foreskin down a little to reveal the mushroom shaped head, another blurt of precum shooting out of his slit and coating your thumb.
Billy never does reply to you, too entranced with the look of your hand on his bare skin, your own flesh feeling so hot it almost burns, searing through his sensitive spots.
You shuffle forward a bit more, mouth hovering over the head of his cock so you can spit a glob of saliva onto it for extra lubricant. Billy hisses, big doe eyes staring at you, unblinking, in awe of you and what you're doing for him.
When your lips finally wrap around the tip, you can't help the moan that leaves you. He tastes salty but clean as you suck and lick at him, heady in such a delicious way it intoxicates you, clouds your senses. You move your hand a bit lower so you can take more of him in, having to bring up your other hand to wrap with it so you can cover his shaft properly.
He's so thick, stretching your mouth wide and cracking your lips. You sink down a bit further, taking more of his cock in until you're gagging, throat closing up around him.
You can hear Billy's fingernails scratching at the leather of the chair, his hips stuttering up into your mouth in a telltale sign that he's close to coming already. His belly is shaking, moans escaping him in quick presession like he can't contain them.
You can't let him come like this; you had to have his cock in you before your visit was over, your core ached for it, your panties feeling damp just from touching him. Billy consumed your entire being, had you feeling needy and desperate.
When you release his dick with a 'pop' he sputters out a little whine, a clear sign that he was so close to the edge before you finished what you were doing.
You look up at him through wet lashes, his face burning a deep purple and the veins on his neck popping from the strain of him struggling not to come. You get up off your knees, pulling your tights down your legs along with your panties so that you're bare from the bottom down, sliding your shirt up over your head to just leave you in a bra on top.
"What're you, shit," Billy struggles to get his words out, ticking and wiping his nose with the backs of his fingers, "what're you doing?"
"Can I ride you?" You ask gently, edging closer to him and kicking his feet until his legs are a bit closer together. Billy nods, and you take that as permission to mount him, spread legs bracketing his hairy thighs.
You flip your skirt up a little, reaching behind you to grab at the base of Billy's cock. You rub the tip in between your folds, all whilst watching him and you don't miss the way his eyes roll back, head tipping so his stubbly neck is bared to you.
You take it slowly, sliding down inch by inch until your cunt is nestled against his groin, thatch of dark pubes tickling your delicate skin. You feel so full it's delicious, his thick cock feeling like it was made to be nestled deep in you.
Billy instinctively reaches out to grab at your hips, stilling you from moving until he got used to the feeling of your soaking wet cunt enveloping him. He breathes in and out deeply, not even baring to look at you, worried he'd blow his load immediately if he did.
You bring your hands out to gently brush over his cheeks, silently forcing him to look at you, which he does eventually. He's just so pretty, his big brown orbs watery and bloodshot, his plump red lips bitten, his cute nose darkened from the constant rubbing as he ticked.
He was so perfect you couldn't fucking stand it. You let your knees do some work for you, finally lifting up a few inches and sinking back down to the hilt. Billy's eyes flutter shut, a high-pitched moan leaving him, the feeling of your sopping, gummy cunt tightening around him feeling fucking heavenly.
You pick up a steady pace quickly, letting yourself be consumed by Billy completely. His big hands running up and down from your waist to your hips and back again, his moans and whimpers clouding your head, his thick cock nudging at your insides so deliciously it made you ache.
You remove your hands from his face, reaching to unclasp your bra and let it fall, baring your tits to him. You shake him gently to make him open his eyes, so he can get a good eyeful. What you don't expect is for him to lean forward immediately and latch onto your left nipple, suckling gently.
"Oh, Billy," You're a moaning mess above him, your cunt feeling so full, whole body on fire with the feeling of his body hard pressed against yours. He's mouthing at your breasts, sucking on your nipples as if his life depended on it.
He's whining, hips stuttering up against yours to meet your bounces. There's no real rhythm to it, his inexperience clear as day, but you're struggling to care with how good he's making you feel. The catch and drag of the head of his cock brushing your spongey spot, making your pussy slicker than before.
"God, darling, I'm so sorry," Billy groans, letting go of your nipple and kissing along the swell of your tit instead, whining out as you speed up a little, helping him chase his orgasm, "I'm gonna cum, fuck."
"Do it, babe, s'okay," You moan, tugging at his hair a little to get him to crane his neck up, to finally press a kiss to his lips. That's what does it for him, has his hips stuttering against yours as he comes deep inside of you.
He opens his mouth to moan, and you take that as your opportunity to deepen the kiss, slipping your tongue into his mouth to lap lazily against his own. He shudders through his orgasm, your hips slowing down to a stop when he starts to shake with overstimulation.
He's not very good at kissing, but his plump lips and wide tongue make up for it. You find your cunt fluttering at the feeling, clamping down around his cock to milk the final bit of come out of him. You try not to be disappointed that you haven't been able to chase your own release, too focused on making Billy feel good.
You're not sure when you stop kissing, but when you do and you open your eyes again, you notice Billy's eyes are wet and his cheeks are stained with tear marks. You wipe his tears away with your thumb, smiling at him until he's forced to smile back.
"Good?" You ask gently, hips rocking subtly, his soft cock still nudging slightly against your soft spot. You try not to be pushy, knowing he'd be sensitive, but you can't help but want to do it again, the coil in your gut still wound tight with need.
Billy nods, huffing out a little, "I can - I can feel that, you know?" He says, nodding towards your soft hips moving, "It's - it's really sensitive, God."
You continue moving your hips in silence, squeezing your cunt around him, feeling his dick throbbing inside of you like it's trying to pique interest again. You really hope it does, you need to do this for a little longer, just a little.
"You can come again though, right? Let me try, please?" You're basically begging him, forehead to forehead and circling your hips back and forth on his already half hard cock and he's crying again, overcome with pleasure and sensitivity, struggling to think straight through the feeling of you on top of him.
Billy nods anyway, a silent yes and you use the leverage of your knees on the hard material of the chair to rise back up again, sinking back down softly. You do it like this until he's fully hard again, up down, up down, up down, your nails digging into the skin of his neck to keep yourself stable.
His hot hands on your waist make your skin feel like it's on fire, has your tummy coiling even tighter, the telltale sign of your own orgasm beginning to wash over you with every drag of his cock head against your gummy walls.
"That's it, Bill, God, your cock feels so good." You cry out, chasing your high until your cunt spasms around him and you feel the white-hot waves of pleasure crashing around you. A gush of slick comes from you, making your pussy impossibly wetter, so wet you feel it drip down your inner thighs onto Billy's own.
You feel like you black out for a second, only coming to when you feel Billy's hands grip onto your hips impossibly tighter so he can fuck up into you from below, his wet moans telling you he's close to coming again, too.
"Fuck, I love you, darling, shit. Love you, always have, m'so sorry, fuckfuck," Billy's hands slide up your back, tugging you until you're impaled on his cock impossibly deeper, chest pressed flush to his own as he comes for the third time, face buried into your neck tightly.
Your heart swells at his words, face flushing dark at the confession. Your insides bloom warmly, consumed with the sheer love you have for him, "I love you too, Bill. Loved you forever, was it not obvious?"
Billy's crying against your chest, hot tears spilling onto your bare chest, "No, I didn't, God, why didn't you tell me?"
"You needed to get better first, Bill." Your voice is soft, hand deftly running over his hair soothingly, "You're getting better now, though. It was time. I'm here forever, I'm not going anywhere."
You whisper encouraging words into his skin until his cries come to a stop, his shuddering body finally stilling. He'd finish his treatment, get the fuck out of here and you could start your life together.
It was the only thing keeping him focused on getting better - he needed to, to go out and see the world with you by his side.
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apprenticestanheight · 8 months
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Post Bathroom trap! Adam Stanheight x gn! reader headcanons
allllll right!! An anon came into my inbox and got me thinking about Adam as a vet as he mentioned wanting to be one the original saw script, and now this exists! Thank you to that anon for spurring on this idea (though you had no idea you did, and I have no idea if you're reading this) this was fun to write!
this fic was ALSO an excuse to imagine adam in this style of glasses (I can admit that I am entirely biased as a glasses wearer myself but I thought about it for two seconds and then was like "this will never cease to be my favorite thing ever." so now we're here)
Fic type- fluff
Warnings- mentions of PTSD related avoidance (adam refuses to go back to the part of the city where the trap was located), mentions of nightmares/anxiety and ptsd being tripped up by something unspecified, mentions of dehydration and starvation after Adam was rescued. Also, this set of headcanons was longer than I had meant for it to be so oops.
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Okay, so!!
Adam is found by the police with Lawrences help (also john kramers--a guilt ridden Lawrence Gordon would BEG for Adams life to be saved and for the spare key to the cuff on Adams ankle and you cannot ever convince me otherwise) and insistence from you (who had filed a missing persons report after a day of missed calls, texts that never delivered, and the stray cat Adam occasionally looked after was found mewing at his door, begging to be allowed entrance to his apartment) after four days. He's starving and dehydrated as all fucking hell, but he dimly registers being lifted onto a gurney and the sound of your voice as you tell him you love him and that he's alive, that he's okay.
He goes through surgery (y'know, bullet wounds and all) and wakes up to be told that, due to the spot in his shoulder where the bullet wound up, he's probably going to deal with consistent pain there the rest of his life.
He's just grateful to be out, really. Grateful that Lawrence kept his word, grateful that you harassed the police, in essence, because you cared so much about him.
He's rehydrated with fluids and eats until he's not hungry anymore, still finding the time within exhaustion and it's interruptions with food and your company to fret about seeing Lawrence in the hospital.
I mean--Lawrence does come to see him, but only when he's asleep because stressing Adam out is not a good idea when he's been out of the trap for two days and is going to be in the hospital for another five at minimum.
Lawrence writes Adam a letter of apology, though, and Adam reads it while you've gone home to shower and to feed the stray that comes by his apartment. He doesn't want to accept Lawrences apology to his face, but he decides that some part of him understands why Lawrence did it as he did, and internally accepts Lawrences apology, deciding to let himself move on from it as best he can.
Adam gets discharged from the hospital after a week, at which point he's like "okay. to start, I need to stop doing freelance. That shit almost got me killed."
He's also traumatized and VERY anxious about going to the part of Jersey where the trap is located. Being freelance might mean he has to go to that area, which plays a bigger part than he's willing to admit.
He's sitting in your apartment one day, having been too anxious to go back to his even after he'd been assured that Jigsaw believed how grateful he'd managed to become and would not test him again unless he did something that Jigsaw deemed worthy of such a test.
He starts thinking about life while sitting at your kitchen table, open and closing his fist while doing that "powpowpowpowpow!!" sound that you do when you're messing with kittens as the stray you'd taken in after finding her covered in oil on the side of the road had found herself on your kitchen table.
He looks at you, having just ordered your favorite takeout, and goes "Remember high school?"
You nod at this, anxious but excited to see where, exactly, he plans to take the conversation.
"We started dating in October of sophomore year," you said. "You dropped out March of junior year, Adam. I remember it."
Adam remembers it, too, watching you walk across the stage as a high school graduate where he'd dropped out because he was flunking. He remembers feeling proud of you, supporting you with forehead kisses and promises to order your favorite food if you studied, helping you work your way through your college degree.
"What's got you thinking about it?" you'd ask as Adam lifted the stray orange tabby kitten into his arms, tucking her under his chin.
"I was thinking... remember how I wanted to be a vet?"
You look at him, head tilted, mouth slightly agape. Of course you'd remembered, but those dreams were ones you thought he'd given up on.
"Yeah," you nod. "Yeah. I remember. Why?"
"I was looking into it and I think I'm going to get my GED," Adam says. "Might also look into taking the SATs, I heard that a decent score will help me get a bachelors degree. Once I get my bachelors, I'll go to vet school."
"Adam," you whisper, a little stunned. "Oh my God. Are you serious?"
Adam grins, gaze meeting yours as he nods.
You have a like,, like,, you're just...
you're SO HAPPY because you have loved that man for a literal DECADE by the time he's like "okay yeah. I'm going to get my life together."
You stand up and head to the kitchen, delighting in the sound of Adams laughter as you go.
"Grabbing the good whiskey?" He calls.
"The best stuff in our cabinets!" you call back.
So the cycle starts.
Adam gets himself enrolled in the GED program your old high school offers, and many nights are spent with Adam, glasses on his face and cat dubbed Spice sitting on the couch cushion behind him, studying to make sure he gets the materials right.
You help him take practice tests and kiss him senseless the first time he gets a near perfect score, and from then it only seems like things get better.
Adam aces the GED test and gets the diploma, lets himself smoke a cigarette for the first time since the trap to celebrate the victory because, even if he didn't get the diploma until eight years after he should've graduated and gotten it, he still got it.
Then, you help him study for the SATs and Spice the cat bats at his notes and the textbooks he studies from whenever one of their corners is hanging off the coffee table.
You get VERY USED to the sight of Adam in his glasses because,, studying and wearing CONTACTS?? no. that sounds like a nightmare.
he gets a good score on the SATs and then applies to a decent college in the city to do a bachelors in science with a focus on zoology.
GUESS WHAT?? He's in college doing his bachelors and working part time as a secretary at the local vets office so that he can sort of get a feel for the environment he'll be expecting post vet school.
You're at his side throughout the entirety of it, and when Adam starts going to therapy (lets be honest--he busies himself with first his GED, then the SATS, then applying and getting into the college he wants for his bachelors and also working part time at the vets offices to avoid thinking about his experience in the bathroom trap) you're supportive of him throughout every step because he supported you through high school, and college, and the long nights spent making sure your career went how you wanted it to go.
He and Lawrence develop a friendship after some time as well, which is nice, and eventually, without realizing it, Adam has developed his own little support system.
Granted, by the time he's hitting 30 and graduating with his bachelors, it's 2008 and his support system is made up of his partner, a doctor with whom he was trapped by the oh-so infamous Jigsaw, and an orange tabby cat who you lovingly washed free of oil and ticks with dawn dish soap when she was two weeks old, but it counts.
He gets into vet school and you hug-tackle him when he tells you the news.
You knock his glasses onto the floor and the two of you end up kissing, breathless on the couch of the apartment you'd moved into together, both because your old one was heading steadfastly into disrepair and remaining unfixed by the landlord, and to celebrate that he'd finished the bachelors degree at which he had worked tirelessly.
The two of you watch Spice the cat bat his glasses around, breathless but completely and utterly elated.
Adam goes to a vet school in the state and it's more studying, more forehead kisses and a lot of restless nights consumed by kissing whenever he correctly guesses the answer from one of his study flashcards, making jokes and laughing just a bit at one anothers expenses, crying into Spice the cats fur whenever it all gets too overwhelming.
he graduates the vet school in 2012, and at that point he has an 'oh shit' moment where he's like
"okay wait. so. I am thirty four. I have been dating Y/N since we were sixteen. we've been dating for eighteen years and haven't gotten married?? what??"
SO HE'S LIKE: 'okay. vets make decent money. I am going to buy them a ring and it's gonna be amazing.'
realistically, he's thirty four and realizing at that point (when the two of you are financially stable enough to be looking at fucking HOUSES in the early 2010s) that the two of you have been together for more than half of your lives and he's making good enough money that money and making the rent isn't a concern anymore and it's a genuine shock.
John Kramer died (which was a story that broke national news) and Adam has had the time to heal, which he finds even odder but it's--it's a nice kind of odd.
So, he starts working as a vet at the office where he used to be a secretary and with his first paycheck, he BUYS YOU A RING. SWEET SWEET MAN.
He proposes in February of 2013 (not on valentines day, but on the 26th because that's your nineteen year anniversary) at the place where you had your first date
the place?? a bookstore that sold used cameras at a discount. Adam proposed to you with a book of memories and photographs he'd taken chronicling those memories. At the end it has the words 'will you marry me?' and a photo of Spice the cat asleep on a sign that says 'look up' so then you do
AND BOOM. HE'S ON HIS KNEE. A BOX IS OPEN IN HIS HAND. A RING IS IN THAT BOX.
You laugh a little and pull a ring out of your pocket, offering it to him as you try to fend off the urge to comment about how unserious it seems despite how serious it is.
ADAM IS AS SHOCKED AS YOU WERE WHEN HE BROUGHT UP GETTING HIS GED.
He's like "a ring? why would they--OH SHIT. THEY HAD THE SAME IDEA."
The two of you just...silently laugh in the bookstore while you nod and slip the rings you bought onto the others finger, kissing and hugging because what even was that day. what.
You get married on that day in 2014, when the two of you have been together for a literal whole entire TWENTY FUCKING YEARS because you're just that cool.
It's also a little weird for Adam--he's 36 at this point, the anniversary of his escaping the trap will come around in late November.
Its good weird, though. He's still privy to weed on occasion--particularly nights where the nightmares come back and he can't sleep, or when he sees something that trips him up and sends him back to that bathroom, cuffed by the ankle to a pipe, the key having gone skittering down the drain--but he doesn't smoke nearly as often as he did during his mid-twenties.
man rakes in 125,000 american dollars, has a fucking MORTGAGE AND CAR INSURANCE BILL and on the day of the wedding you two are looking back at 2004 and are just like "woah. A lot has changed in the last decade"
Adam has gotten to become the person that the guy who was cuffed by the ankle never thought he'd be, though, so he's super proud of himself and his accomplishments.
you're proud of him, too--you have a cat, a mortgage, a car insurance bill and aren't worried about the paying of any of those bills in the slightest. Marrying him is one of your greatest accomplishments because?? hello?? marrying the love of your life who turned his life around in less than six thousand days?? he is. he is amazing. and you just. you just love him wholeheartedly
all in all, it's a good existence and I have to believe Adam would've done good for himself after surviving the trap because if I don't then I can't sleep at night lolz
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bunniekittiee · 7 months
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(MK1) Bi-Han Headcanons
I was listening to Jar of Flies and it came into my head that I never did separate Bi-Han headcanons about himself. So this is what I think he would be like. This is also very music-based but yk its all good.
Bi-Han is known as the goth man of Mortal Kombat because of Noob but I think he would be a bit more grungey.
He loved dark and haunting music even before he became a wraith.
Alice In Chains was his first listen to Earthrealm music as he had never interacted with it before. Johnny had to tell him about them.
“I think it’s up your alley.” Johnny told him as he handed him a CD player with a few CDs.
Bi-Han did not trust his judgement at first and even put it off for a little bit, but he soon regretted putting it off as soon as he listened to Jar of Flies.
Absolutely loved AIC after this.
Related Jar of Flies to his own trauma with losing his mother and his father’s harsh treatment.
That’s another can of worms that cannot be opened in great detail today.
Would also like Narrow Head, Superheaven (duh i headcanon every character to like them), Mareux, Basement, Nine Inch Nails, but that’s just to name a few.
Associates “Hole in the Ground” by Superheaven with Kuai Liang and tries to not listen to it too much.
This is much worse after his betrayal. Bi-Han hardly touches the song after because of this.
It would only make him feel horrible and guilty.
Also associates “Necrosis” by Narrow Head with his father because of his hurtful treatment as a kid.
Bi-Han was trained a pushed a lot harder than Kuai Liang and even Tomas who was not their blood kin, so Bi-Han held a lot of resentment for his father.
He treated Tomas more like a son than he did Bi-Han.
Bi-Han wondered if this was so he could become a tough Grandmaster, and that’s how he reasoned it in his head, but it still messed with him.
When he lost his mother, it was devastating. She was the only one who supported him and took care of him after suffering from bouts of hypothermia from his father testing his might in the Arctika.
She was there for everything and always made sure Bi-Han was well.
When she passed, he did not have that support system anymore. That is when he knew it was time to become a man and move on.
He never moved on, but he did become a man.
His exterior was already cold, but it became much more worse after the death of his mother.
That is the Bi-Han we know today.
He never held much warmth despite his brothers telling him he should.
He hardly wanted to give his father a funeral, but he knew he could not go in that direction. He needed to honor him despite his dishonorable acts against the Lin Kuei.
He was a weak, senile Grandmaster. He was not fit to rule.
But Bi-Han was, he was ready to reform the clan and change the weaker policies his father implemented after the death of his mother.
Kuai Liang always tried to reason with Bi-Han, but he never changed his mind. Once Bi-Han was set, he was ready.
It didn’t matter what Kuai said or did, Bi-Han would never budge.
He was very stubborn to the dismay of his brothers.
Late at night if Bi-Han could not sleep, he would listen to music to help him.
Bi-Han could not sleep well because of the creeping thoughts of his childhood/adulthood that caused him great pain.
It often seeped into his dreams which caused him to not be able to go back to sleep.
That’s why he looks so tired, he just has a hard time sleeping. His mind is too occupied and the gears are always turning about.
“Blank” by Glare also makes Bi-Han reflect on his life. He listens to that when he can’t sleep.
Sometimes, it’s able to lull him to sleep.
Tomas and Kuai do worry about Bi-Han.Tomas suspects that Bi-Han is depressed, maybe anxiety-ridden.
But they’ll never know. Bi-Han is super against vulnerability and he hates to feel that way.
He also does not like to be forced to talk about his feelings or what’s bothering him. It makes him feel like he’s trapped in a corner like a wild animal.
After Bi-Han’s betrayal, Sektor and Cyrax are the ‘replacements’ for his siblings.
But they never are interested in what Bi-Han’s mental stability is. They are not that close to be aquatinted like that.
All they care about is having a Grandmaster that is ready to conquer and give them orders. They are warriors, they are ready for anything Bi-Han throws their way.
When Bi-Han was younger, his father did everything to make his life difficult. This lead to Bi-Han being very angry often.
He trained alone in the temple, his knuckles bloody from the amount of punching he did. His knuckles would be raw and cut open badly.
His mother would coax him away from the training room to let her wrap his hands up. She did this very often as Bi-Han was the main target of his father’s wrath.
He hardly cried in front of her, but every once in a while he broke. But she picked up his pieces.
Bi-Han loved his mother greatly, her death pained him the most out of everyone.
So when he looks in the mirror, all he sees reflecting back at him is his mother.
Her eyes, her facial features, her caring demeanor.
But Bi-Han was hardened, extremely rough around the edges.
He could never be as caring and loving like her. It wasn’t in his DNA to be that way. That was more Kuai Liang’s personality.
Sometimes if he stared for too long, he would see her in the mirror. But only for a mere moment.
He blamed it on lack of sleep and never told anyone.
Bi-Han is extremely troubled, and he requires a lot of patience and understanding. He will not open up right away to anyone.
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gardenletter · 8 months
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Yandere orc x reader ❤️🔥🥀🔪💚 part 3
This is going to be more of ✨WHAT ITS LIKE LIVING WITH XURL✨
Xurl was...always with you. He would often sleep at the side of your bed (when you fall asleep he would sneak into the covers).He would often nuzzle you with his tusks. It was strange to say the least but you weren't complaining you needed the company and being in the forest all alone wasn't the safest as we learned earlier,so having an orc roommate wasn't bad ... especially one so*cough cough*.
You weren't completely in the dark about orc culture...you lived with them for quite a few years ,but you were far from an expert.Xurl's behavior was unusual but you assumed pre and post puberty would change behavior and even what was expected culturally and you didn't see orcs interact with each other in there own homes.Maybe there a more touchy species .So it means Xurl likes you (there not lol he just obsessed with you *cough cough*)
Xurl would often hunt and gather food for you.You have fun running around the woods with him finding food and even Herbs for your little shop
One time you accidentally stumbled upon Xurl taking a bath in a nearby river and you saw everything from his torso up.It was a sight.He saw you and even invited you in but you were too much of a blushing mess
With Xurl being your new roommate you made more space and got rid of low hanging lights so he can walk around more freely(still small lol)
He would often try to follow you into town when you go to work,but you have to always stop him.Times have changed but not everyone has changed their mind set.Your town is relatively inclusive and safe, with a Neko family and Mr Pine being of elf blood.But an orc as you realize is much different than a cute Neko especially when the town is made up of mainly humans. So you do it for his own good.
It does break your heart each day when you see his sad lonely face 😭(but you always promise you'll return)
(he totally stalks you by the forest line to make sure you're safe....yeah)
He LOVES small animals just loves them
I've been living with Xurl for a few months now and he was definitely entertaining and nice to have around. We've been trying to get to know each other again, but funnily Xurl didn't change much...well personality wise anyway.But Xurl has been acting strange as of late. Fidgeting more, stumbling over his words he was nervous and anxiety ridden. I decided I'd bring it up to him. He's beginning to worry me and the moment I decide to open my mouth he shoves one of his tusk rings into my face.The gold piece of jewelry was reflecting the sun beautifully and beyond the ring and his large hands.
I see his eyes
They were practically looking through me.A blush crawls from my neck to my cheeks as I register what this means.As a child I would often see orc couples share matching rings on their tusks similar to the human tradition of wedding rings.I stutter and look around "T-This is lovely X-xurl b-but"I couldn't even finish my sentence before I saw the hurt in his eyes and he lowered the ring."O-Oh I...I'm sorry"I could hear his voice quiver a little and my heart started to swell and I started to choke up.
"Xurl...I'm really flattered..but-" I was cut off again "I thought we had started courting...I should have know...I'm sorry y/n i will go" his head was hanging low to hide the tears in his eyes as he walked to the door I felt annoyed by his fast assumption and interrupting me like THAT SHIT HEAD... "MY GOODNESS XURL CANT YOU LET ME Finish A SENTENCE" and I quickly grabbed his hand stopping him from moving towards the door.He looked at me with a mix of confusion and relief as his hand clasped over mine ."I was going to say I'm flattered and I should have known what some of the stuff I did for you implied in orc culture.I've gotten rusty in the department"his eyes raised from the floor but still held a sad look.
My face flushed as I thought of my next words "Xurl I don't want you to leave...I like you a lot...........Like in a romantic way but I didn't think we were counting originally so the ring was a surprise".He shot straight up making him reach his full height and his eyes filled with hope "Xurl...I...lov-" but before I could finish my word strong arms were around my waist and lips on mine.I relaxed in his touch.
"I'm sorry"....
"I'm sorry too"
A smile danced on our lips as he looked at me and his grip on me tightens slitly"I know the tusk ring is more of an engagement thing but will you still expect it.I want others to know your mine"heat was in my cheeks at his words and I felt my legs fall under me but with Xurls arms still around me I stayed standing"y-yes...I would love too....as long as you stop interrupting me " he chuckled at my comment "sorry love I was just nervous"and his lips envelope mine once more as he slipped the "ring" on to my wrist.
Your all mine
I hope you liked part 3 of my orc oc lol.if people still show interest in Xurl I will make more stuff on him and hopefully my other ocs.So show some love and I hope you guys are doing well
Love gardenletter 💕
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circinuus · 1 year
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warnings: profanities.
Imagine going home late evening. The streets have gotten unusually silent these days. The silence makes your steps louder, and so are the footsteps of someone that seemingly match yours.
You make a quick scan of the dimly lit streets, taking two left turns to an alley you vaguely knew.
The footsteps still follow you.
All you hear is now your quick breaths and the anxiety pumping in your heart. Your steps turn to trots, then to a run. There is a person--people following you.
"Shit," your hands tremble as they swipe over your phone. The slippery, post-rain pavements don't make your strides any more steady.
Answer, answer-
"(Name)? are you-"
The phone slipped away from your cold hands with the sound of a gunshot. That moment you realize, these people aren't just shadows, and the image of your body dying in a ditch might not be a farfetched vision.
There wasn't any time to reach for your cracked phone or to not swallow down your sob as you stagger through the rain-ridden street.
A flit of shadow appears in the corner of your eyes, and you take a sharp turn to the nearest pathway. Another on the far distance; you take another turn.
Mind blinded by haste, you fail to miss the man waiting on the other side of the alley, walking straight into his hold like a mouse to a mousetrap. Your chest constricts, blood running cold when your adrenaline forces you to resist. But the hold- the hold on you doesn't budge.
-Until your breath loosens and panic calms down in silent sobs. You knew this scent, this warmth, the gentle hand that pushed your head to his shoulder. You are engulfed in a protective embrace.
"I'm here." his hold tightens, hushing your panicked tears with gentle rubs on the back of your head. "I'm so sorry. You're safe now."
The footsteps get louder before stopping with the sound of cocked guns. Chuuya doesn't let go of his grasp, keeping your vision away from the unscrupulous idiots who dared to mess with you, of all people.
"Now," he puts his hat on your head, lowering it to your eyes. "Which one of you fuckers wants to die first?"
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i was watching some action movies and this happened. i'm working on the rqs i promise 🤡
@ashthemadwriter
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hyatoro · 1 year
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Okayy we saw househusband!franklin and we all enjoyed it EXTREMELY so how about househusband!minsu
Hwang Minsu
Househusband!Minsu is MUCH less competent than Franklin. 
It’s literally just a skill issue. 
He absolutely does his best and it’s weird for him to adjust to a different time schedule than he’s used to. 
Even when you two were dating he was still mostly used to only taking care of one person’s needs at a time. Whenever he’d do things for you he had a bad habit of disregarding his own needs. Which is part of the reason why you insisted on moving in and getting married, so he’d get better at that. 
Not having to worry about getting kicked out for missing rent and having food on the table does wonders for the poor man. Cries when you tell him that it’s his house too and that he’s welcome to put all his own things where he wants them. Specifically the important mementos his mother left him. 
He’s not ‘burns water’ bad at cooking, but it definitely takes a lot of practice to get good at cooking. Apologizes every time the food doesn’t taste good/wastes ingredients trying to figure something out. 
Swoons when you put bandages on his cuts from learning how to use a knife properly. Boosts his motivation greatly. 
Like his mom loved him a lot and did most of the cooking, which led to him not developing those skills when he was younger. And well. When she died he had other things on his plate aside from learning how to cook when he could easily eat the convenience store leftovers. 
He eventually does get the hang of things and excitedly shows you some cookbooks he’d want to check out and try things from. 
He was already decent at cleaning and stuff, but also got overwhelmed at the size of your new home since he was living in a dingy one room apartment before. Again, he does eventually adapt. 
Your love and support literally mean so much to him. 
Another guilty laundry sniffer. Doesn’t go as far putting on full outfits, but he definitely takes your coats/jackets/hoodies, and wears them around when he does chores. You can give them to him but he refuses. Something about how it’s better when they’re yours in name. But he’s also conflicted because it would be another gift to him… It doesn’t matter since you share closet space anyway. 
You have to scent mark him every day before work. If you don't he gets really fucking sad and is super clingy and pouty when you get home.
He’s needy and horny so sometimes he jerks off in just your hoodie. He got so worked up at the idea of you catching him like this that he cums twice, making a mess of himself by the time you got home. He always greets you at the door like a separation-anxiety-ridden-puppy, but it’s a lovely surprise when you see him that day. In just your hoodie with his cum dripping down his thighs, hearts in his eyes as he flushes at the sight of you. 
Again, he’s insatiable when it comes to you. He’s leaned up against the wall for support, rubbing his slick thighs together as he welcomes you home. 
(*´ ˘ `*).。oO ( ♡ )
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thepinklink · 3 months
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Rescue Ranch AU - Legend (Mountain)
Legend sits up, and the world swirls around him in smears of blues and greens and blacks. He doesn’t even realize he’s fallen to the side until his arm connects with the ground and send shockwaves through his body. Nausea rises in his gut, so he sits there, closing his eyes and trying to take deep breaths to try and tame it. It’s less than effective, with each inhale sending sharp stabs of pain through his chest. Eventually, it simmers back down on its own, and Legend tries again to sit up, much more carefully this time. He’s only sat fully up for a few seconds when there’s a low, familiar nicker and a velvety nose pushing against his shoulder.
“M’okay, Raven,” Legend mumbles, reaching out blindly to tangle his fingers in her mane. “S’okay, lady.”
He takes in a few more barely-steadying breaths. His head throbs badly enough that it’s messing up his vision. Raven brushes her nose against him again, evidently less than pleased with his answer. He touches the right side of his face, and his fingers come away sticky with blood. He winces at the sight, and that is when the anxiety begins to set in. He’s bleeding, probably has broken ribs and a concussion, and it occurs to him that he did not immediately remember what caused it or where he is.
He has no idea how long he’s been out; his lack of urgency was plenty of time for some infected monster to sneak up on him. With that, he gets a better grip on Raven’s mane and uses her to steady himself as he gets to his feet. She stands still, patiently supporting him and shoving her nose against his stomach when he’s fully standing. She probably just wants treats, but Legend leans some of his weight across her face and uses it to catch his breath. Again, she stands still until Legend straightens again, running a hand through her mane and murmuring praises to her.
Now standing, Legend takes a look around. He’s on a mountain, a familiar path he’s ridden a hundred times before. To his left, the path continues, clear, further into the mountains. To his right, where the path would have lead them out of the mountains and onto Legend’s own land, the path is covered in a lot of rocks.
*
A cruel cackles precedes the rumbling on the mountainside, drawing Legend’s attention up. His blood runs cold as he spots the monsters, a Moblin and a Bokoblin, at the top of the slope, pushing and hitting rocks until there’s a full-blown mini landslide rushing down the slope towards Marin and Legend. Legend redirects his gaze to Marin, who’s riding in front of him, and she makes eye contact with him. Her browns eyes are wide with terror, and that snaps Legend into action.
“Run!” He yells at her. “Go, gallop!”
He turns Raven to the left sharply, but he’s unable to bring himself to turn her away fully and start moving—that would take his eyes off Marin. He watches as Marin spurs her gelding forward, and the first rocks begin to smash against the mountain path, spooking the horse. It delays her escape and for a split second, Legend is frozen. Fear, grief, rage and sheer helplessness create a toxic mixture, running like fire through his veins and freezing his lungs. The image of Marin, fighting to guide her horse through the chaos, is the very last thing he sees before pain explodes in his right temple—and the world shatters like porcelain against a black backdrop.
*
“Marin!?” He shouts instinctively, the memory triggering his adrenaline. He forgets instantly how much his body hurts, how very little strength he has to put towards more than trying to breathe through the pain. “Marin, where are you?!”
His voice echoes through the mountains mockingly, and he turns around sharply at the sound of a responding monster’s screech. The monsters that tried to kill him, and they didn’t sound happy that it hadn’t worked. Legend sees a Moblin and a bokoblin picking their way down the steep slope they’d been camped on. The bokoblin reaches him first, its size allowing it to traverse the pathway down with less care than the Moblin.
Legend unsheathes his sword, shooing Raven out of harm’s way and bracing himself against the creature. Legend’s rage and the ‘blin’s reckless strategy of throwing itself repeatedly at him enables him to take if down with relative ease, but he knows the Moblin will be a different story. He’s buzzing with too much adrenaline to feel his injuries, but he knows he’s less than prepared to take on a creature as big as a Moblin—especially when it’s methods of attack are the same as the Bokoblin, just more effective.
That considered, he sheathes his sword and instead pulls out his short shotgun. He waits for the cursed Moblin to get closer before there’s the satisfying click of the safety turned off, and then the blast that reverberates through the valley. In the time it takes the Moblin to recover, Legend has dumped the first two shells and reloaded. Another shot, two more shells, two more bullets, one last shot, and the creature is on the ground, a sizable hole in its gut. It isn’t dead, though, bur Legend’s sword through its throat fixes that.
He sheathes his sword again and watches the monster bleed out until he’s certain it’s dead, and then he looks up and frowns. The pressure of urgency rests on his chest; he was doing something important. The monsters must have distracted him, and now he’s going to get back to what that original thing was…as soon as remembers. He looks back at the rocks in the path, and for the second time that day it hits him like a sack of bricks: Marin.
“Marin?!” He calls again, hurrying towards the rocks. He hears no reply, he searches the pile of rocks and he sees nothing. He looks down into the valley, where the landslide fell, and his stomach twists unpleasantly. He was knocked out fairly early in the rockslide, but if he remembers, Marin was in position to be caught right in the middle of it…he banishes that thought and begins to pick his way down the mountain. He has to find her, he will find her.
And he tries. He really does. The night drags on, further and further, and Legend searches and searches and searches, up and down the mountainside, over rocks and calling out her name, over and over and over again. She never answers, and he never finds anything. Not a lock of hair, not a scrap of her shirt. Nothing.
He climbs back up onto the path for the last time, and he doesn’t realize he’s falling until he’s hit the ground and shockwaves are running through his body. He feels shaky and lightheaded, nausea returning full force. It hurts to breathe, the urge to pant stopped by how painful it is. He groans softly as the full effect of worn-off adrenaline, and the consequences of pushing himself when he should not have, hits him. He lays there for a long and unmeasured amount of time before a hitched breath triggers a coughing fit, and when it ends, the coppery taste of blood brushes the back of Legend’s tongue and he knows he can’t neglect himself any longer.
He sits up, slow and sore, and calls Raven over. He once again uses her to get himself standing, and then he is faced with the near impossible task of mounting her. His body is heavy and protests the movements, and when he swings himself up and settles into the saddle there are a few long sections in which Legend has to just grit his teeth and put all his effort into remembering how to breathe. And with that, begins the trek home, up the slope and around the rocks, and then onwards up the path closer to the mountain’s exit. His chest feels hollow as he leaves, his instincts screaming at him to stop and go back and keep looking until he finds something. But, if Legend were to be totally honest, even through the haze of pain and exhaustion and grief…he can’t quite remember what he’s supposed to be searching for.
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namjoonswaifu · 2 months
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Sneek Peek!!!
guys, gals and non-binary pals, here is the sneak peek.
warnings: mentions of anxiety, mentions of anxiety about weight, weight insecurity, idiots to lovers
This hadn’t been a problem before, having known him since you were 5, you had shared a bed plenty of times, but now? Now you were head over heels in love with the curly-haired man. And you had to pretend that you weren't. But that wasn’t your biggest problem right now. Right now, your biggest problem was getting ready and getting to the grid on time, you could tell Lando about the bed situation later. And anyway, there was a sofa, you could try and cover yourself up with the end blanket off of the bed on the sofa. Lando would need the bed anyway, he has the biggest job to do here. And so to sum it all up, all of these reasons are what led you to stand in front of the mirror in the bedroom, nearly in tears as you looked at your reflection. You didn’t hate your body, in fact, you were your biggest fan, but the anxiety of everything was eating you up from the inside out. Every piece of fabric felt like it was clinging to your body. You have to take a deep breath you keep telling yourself. 
Your phone ringing from the desk nearby pulled you from your anxiety-ridden trance. Picking up your phone you see Lando’s contact lighting up your phone screen. The image itself makes you laugh. The man had made it as a surprise to make you laugh when you were having a bad day a few weeks ago even though it had some pictures in it that he hated. And he wouldn’t tell you, but he would use the worst images of him in the universe again if it made you smile the way it did again. 
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Although the picture made you smile, the anxiety still bubbling within you made your thumb hesitate over the reject button before pressing the accept button. 
L: Hello?
       Y/N: Lando? What’s up? Is everything okay? Are you h-?
          L: I’m okay, breath, I'm okay. I just wanted to ask what room I’m in.
Fuck. 
     Y/N: Uh, about that… 
The line stayed quiet as Lando waited for you to continue, and realising that you weren’t he tried to push you for your answer as gently as possible 
       L: yeah?
  Y/N: Sotheysortofmessedupandtheresonlyonehotelroombetweenthetwoofusanditonlyhasonebed.
     L: What? Remember what I said about breathing? Take a breath and tell me, again. Okay? 
Taking what might have been the biggest breath of your life you repeat yourself
Y/N: They messed up the rooms
   L: okay?
Y/N: And there’s only one hotel room between the two of us
   L: right…
Y/N: it only has one bed 
   L: Darlin’ I'm not seeing the problem here, we’ve shared a bed before. What room are we in?
Y/N: 410
   L: Okay, I’ll see you in a minute okay
Y/N: Okay. 
You both hang up the one at the same time, something that has come with being friends for such a long time. With a shaky breath, you throw your phone back onto the desk before making your way to hide in the bathroom knowing that Lando would want to know why you’re so anxious about sharing a bed all of a sudden
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faceless-mirror · 4 months
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In a world where vampires are actively trying to fit in with humans, coexist safely and help each other, Vinny and his ESV(Emotional Support Vampire), Ricky, are getting to know each other and learning more and more. Adapting to the life in the contract they both signed, and are living with. As they do they border the line between Friends.... and Lovers.
Tags: @cookiesupplier @phxntxsmicgoricxl
Chapter 1: A Desperate Plea
Vinny was hot. Overheating but he needed to wear his hoodies. Ever since the accident he was in… the one that took the life of his best friend… He couldn’t manage his anxiety without it. His hair was a mess, and here he was in public. The ride here had been awful. He kept to the back streets, and keeping a bit below the speed limit. He rubbed his face. He was so exhausted. He was finally being assigned an ESV. It had taken so long to get to this point. Months of waiting to hear about emotional vampires that were available and looking to help. Apparently, one had just refreshed their application and it was a match.
When his name was called he stood up quickly rushing to the door, following the therapist he knew so well by now. “Is- is there anything i should know-?” he asked following her closely with wide eyes as he tripped up a bit in surprise when she shook her head. “Let’s get you into the room and meeting him. He’s worked with us for years his last contract ended rather poorly but that’s because of differences. You’re also looking for a job correct?” “Well yes- but I don’t see how that’s relevant-” Vinny insisted as she opened the door ushering him in, his eyes still focused on her as he slipped in. As soon as he was in he sat down and looked up.
His eyes widened seeing Ricky Olson- leaned back in a chair, ankle crossed over his knee dressed in leather and a t-shirt, tight black jeans- He wasn’t dwelling on that right now. His hair was draped over his shoulder as he smiled at the anxiety ridden mess of a man. “You must be Vincenzo.” he said simply, standing gracefully and held out a hand. “Richard Olson- You can call me Ricky.” His voice was like butter, warm and soaked in easing his tension as he shook his hand. Vinny was suddenly and sharply aware  that he himself looked like he crawled out of a gutter. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“Ye…yeah. Like….likewise-” he got out almost choking on his tongue as he swallowed his anxiety trying to instinctively shove it down.
“Mind if I help?” the guitarist asked still holding his hand. “Just to help.”
Vinny merely nodded and gasped at the relief of his anxiety as Ricky’s grey blue eyes turned a vibrant ocean blue as he drank down some of his anxiety. His breathing steadied out as he looked at him in relief. Like a gothic angel coming to grace his life so fully.
“Thanks.” He whispered weakly, as he sat back as Ricky sat back down.
“Now that the introductions have been made… Ricky, you already had a chance to glance over Vinny’s history, censored of course. Your band is currently looking for a drummer, correct?”  she asked, pulling out the contract. 
“Yes we are. We’re looking for a drummer since my last contract left the band. I saw some of Vinny’s drumming videos that were submitted as well. I’ve talked to our vocalist and he’s fine with giving Vinny a chance.”
Normally his head would be swimming with violent anxiety, choking him and his thoughts fully out to the point he couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t see. 
Yet here he was functioning. Fully. 
“If Vinny would like to take it at least.”
Vinny took a deep breath, nodding. “Yeah. I can… I can do it.” he announced making his therapist raise her brow but smiled handing over the contracts. 
“This is a temporary contract showing that you, Ricky, will only take the amount of anxiety and stress needed to keep Vinny healthy and any other emotions that may cause him harm like Depression, sorrow and anger. However, in the event you cannot you are also willing to do what’s needed to help support him through those emotions. Vinny. Your contract is explaining you will work with Motionless in White temporarily until you are either officially offered the position and that you will not disclose the fact Richard Olson is an emotional vampire unless he deems it okay.” she explained going more indepth and answering questions as they both read through.
Vinny signed first, understanding all the details faster considering his contract was shorter, breathing a sigh of relief. Green brown eyes shifted to look over the vampire who was reading everything, noting down all Vinny’s tells. He’s done this before, so many times it seems. 
He knew Motionless In White. He loved them. Practiced to them alot. He would have never guessed that Ricky was an ESV. He watched as Ricky signed the documents and handed them back.
“All right. I will go get these filed. You guys are good to go. You should both probably get to know each other.” She commented with a warm smile, seeming to know that Vinny and Ricky were going to end up closer than what they intended. That’s what happened with Ricky and Chris. Who knew how long it would go this time…
Vinny stood up running his fingers through his long curls, swallowing, “...do… you wanna go get coffee?” 
Ricky chuckled, “Sure. I’m buying. But let’s get to your place and get you in shape before you meet the guys.”
The guys.
Right. Job. He was getting a job and an ESV. 
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blushweddinggowns · 1 year
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It had started out as such a good day. 
He had woken up with Eddie peppering his face in kisses, always a total sap in the morning. And it never failed to make Steve feel light as a feather. Sometimes he still couldn’t believe that he had gotten here, after all the shit they had been through. But his life in their little apartment with Wayne and Eddie, was better than anything else he’d ever had.
They had met Robin for breakfast, then Steve hung around while Eddie did a few deals, always the passenger princess. They gave the kids a ride home from school before heading back to the apartment. Then they decided to just be lazy sacks of shit for the rest of the night, happy to cuddle on the couch while they watched bad tv.  He felt so good, just sitting there, tucked to Eddie’s side. Like nothing could ever bother him in their happy little bubble. 
But then the phone rang.
It was Wayne who picked it up, just on his way out to start his own night. There were a few clipped words before he looked over at Steve, brow furrowed, “It’s for you.”
It took a second for him to extract himself from Eddie’s tight grip and he was a giggling mess by the time he was actually able to stand. 
“Who is it?” Steve asked as he made his way over. His smile dropped when he saw worried Wayne’s expression. His mind automatically went to the worst-case scenarios. Did something happen to Robin? Or Dustin? Or Max or Lucas-
Wayne interrupted his anxiety ridden spiral, though the news still wasn’t good, “It…sounds like your dad.”
Oh god, no.
Steve could feel his stomach drop as he shakily took the phone from him, internally praying that he was wrong, “Hello?”
“Jesus Christ,” He could hear his father yelling over to someone else, “He’s there. He’s fucking shacking up with the queer, it’s all true.” 
Steve could feel his heart stop in his chest. How did they know he was here? How did they know about Eddie? What were they doing back in town? What the fuck did they want from him?
His Dad finished his side rant, finally addressing Steve in that same cold authoritative tone, “Steven, you have fifteen minutes to get to this house or I’m going to find you. And the other fag will stay there if he knows what’s good for him. You have a lot of explaining to do.”
And then he hung up the phone, not even bothering to wait for an answer. Steve didn’t waste any time in getting his shoes on, trying and failing to reassure Eddie that everything was fine all the while,“It happens sometimes, when they get back. It’s like a checklist item to see me. I’ll be fine. It will be one awkward dinner and then I’ll be back before you know it.”
He could tell he wasn’t buying it. Of course he wasn’t buying it. There was no one on the planet who knew him better than he did, no matter how hard he tried to hide the fact that he was scared shitless. 
He was trailing behind him as he got ready, still trying to reason with him, “If it’s not gonna take that long then I can just wait in the car baby, it’s not that big a deal-”
“Eddie, no,” Steve said, voice impressively firm despite how he felt, “I’ll be fine, trust me okay?”
He hated lying to him, but the thought of his Eddie being in the same room as them made him feel fucking ill. He’d die before he let his dad touch a single hair on his love’s head. There was no way in hell he was going anywhere near that place. 
He shrugged on Eddie’s jacket, despite the fact that it probably wasn’t a good call to wear your boyfriend’s clothes to what could only be a disownment meeting with his parents, but Steve needed something to calm his nerves a little. And having something that smelled like his boyfriend would have to do. 
“Nine at the latest, I swear,” Steve lied, leaning in to kiss his cheek before rushing out the door.
He could feel Eddie watching him as he went, but Steve didn’t look back. He just got into his car and left, that stupid time limit still ringing in his ears. It was a Daniel Harrington classic threat, one that Steve hadn’t heard since he was back in highschool. Senior year was around the time he lost near all interest in him. He didn’t even care enough to knock him around near the end, opting to just remind him that he was a failure and a waste of space over the phone.
He didn’t even know why he still called them. He’d only talked to his mom a handful of times when he tried, but usually it was just a bertating session from his dad.
‘That you deserved.’
The treacherous intrusive thought was in his head before he could stop it. But it wasn’t alone. It was never alone.
‘Maybe if you had done better in school he wouldn’t have had to hit you.’
‘Maybe if you had a job that was worthwhile your mom would actually talk to you.’
‘Maybe if you weren’t such a fuckup then the people who gave you everything would actually love you.’
It was so…frustrating how easily he could get back here. Even after nearly two years of being around people who loved him, who actually cared about him, it only took one damn phone call to have him spiraling out again. He thought this phase of his life was over. He thought that his parents were done with him, that they had finally given up on the dream of Steve being somebody. 
Hell, he even thought that he might never even see them again. He hadn’t seen either of them for two damn years. They had been on vacation in New Jersey when the Vecna shit hit critical mass, and then they never came back. Why couldn’t that have been the end of it? What right did they have to come waltzing back into his life, just to shit all over it? Why did they have to involve Eddie? How did they even know about him? 
His shaking had only gotten worse by the time he pulled into his old driveway. He hated how scared he was. He had fought against literal fucking demons, but the though of having to face his father was enough to have him shaking in his boots. It was so stupid, but that didn’t stop the sight of his shiny BMW from making him want to puke. 
This was going to be bad. Really, really fucking bad. He didn’t want to do this shit. He wanted to tell them both to go to hell and leave him the fuck alone. But…he couldn’t risk anything happening to Eddie. He wouldn’t. So if he had to take a beating before they officially disowned him so Eddie could be left alone, so be it.
His mom met him at the door, disturbingly pleasant when she gestured for him to come inside. 
“Let me take your coat for you sweetheart,” she said, voice sickly sweet as she led Steve into the house. He let her take it, despite how bizarre the behavior was. His mom wasn’t as bad as his dad, she never had been, but affection wasn’t really her style. Not without Steve having to do something in return. She more…just watched when things got bad. Maybe helped patch him up during the worst times, but she was never very active when it came to his “discipline”.
The whole thing was already weird as hell. His dad should have been screaming at him by now, but the house was eerily quiet. She led him to the dining room, and there Daniel Harrington was, seething at the table with a beer in hand, a few empty bottles already pushed off to the side. But he didn’t start yelling at the sight of him. Which was new.
Steve didn’t like it.
His mom gestured for him to sit down before taking her own place between them. He felt like he was at a fucking tribunal, and the faux attempt at civility was just making his hair stand on end. Steve stared at them, waiting for someone to say something. 
Surprisingly it was his mom who went first. She took a deep breath before saying, “Steve, we know that the last few years have probably been hard for you. Everything that’s happened in this town….it couldn’t have been easy to see. And we understand that experience is clouding your decision making process. And…we want to help.”
His dad went next, voice deceptively even, “Your mother’s right. You have a mental disorder that can be treated. And luckily for you, we’re willing to pay for the help you need.”
This was wrong. This whole thing was wrong. Steve just wanted someone to yell at him already. He shook his head, confused, “I don’t understand. What are you talking about?”
“You know damn well what we’re talking about,” Daniel scoffed, “Whatever is happening between you and that piece of trailer trash ends today.”
“He’s not trash,” Steve shot back, momentarily forgetting that he should be trying to lie here. He could handle them saying shit about him, but Eddie hadn’t done a damn thing to either of them, “And nothing is going on between us-”
“Don’t you dare lie to me,” Daniel hissed out, his calm facade finally cracking. Steve could see his grip on the beer bottle tighten, dangerously close to shattering the glass, “We’ve been back for a week Steven, and you haven’t spent a single night here. Tell me, do friends share a room in shitty apartments? Do friends kiss each other at the movie theater? Please feel free to enlighten me.”
Steve swallowed, throat dry. So much for lying his way through this, “Who told you?”
“Tommy called us,” His mom interjected, “And thank god for that. It’s not too late to change things around baby.”
Steve couldn’t help but physically cringe at the nickname. It wasn’t for her to say. But the news from Tommy was even worse. He knew he hated him now, and that was whatever. Who cared? But Tommy was also the only person he’d ever told about his dad. He was the only one he trusted when he was a kid not to say anything, and to know that he told them, knowing full well what would happen…hurt a lot more than he expected. 
“You’re lucky that boy cares about you still,” Daniel added, “So don’t waste our time. Just admit it. Have you or have you not been having an affair with a man?” 
No point in denying it now, “I have.”
They both tensed at the admission, like they had still been holding out for some magical explanation to explain away the whole thing. But Steve was tired of lying. He didn’t even want to. If he had it his way the whole world would know about them being together. He’d shout it from the fucking roof tops if he could. 
“Okay. Thank you for admitting it,” His mom sighed, “Steve, this doesn’t have to be complicated. All you have to do is pack your bags and leave with us. There’s this lovely little place in Delaware that can get you all fixed up -”
“I love him,” Steve interrupted. There was no point in keeping this charade going any longer. Steve wasn’t going fucking anywhere. He can see the way his father's arms twitch at that, the thread of patience he had managed to hold onto on the edge of snapping. He didn't have much time left.
"You think you love him," His mom corrected, “You’re confused-”
“I’m not confused. I love him, mom. And he loves me. I’m not going to give that up for anything.”
“It doesn’t matter how you feel,” Daniel dismissed, voice rising, “What matters is getting your life back on track. You are going to get your shit from that dump and leave with us tonight or else-”
“Or else what?” Steve asked, “You’ll disown me? Cut me out of the will? I don’t give a fuck.”
He’s never talked to either of them like this before, but he didn’t care. He didn’t need them. He never needed them. He had a family, a real family, and that never included the people at this table, “I’m not going anywhere with you. I’m not going to leave him. I’m not doing any of it.”
He should have seen the bottle coming, but that didn’t stop the pained gasp that came out when it hit him square in the arm. Even in his forties Daniel Harrington was still strong, strong enough for some of the glass to embed itself in his skin. Steve almost wanted to laugh, now it made sense why his mom had insisted on taking off the jacket. 
Daniel stood, his chair clattering to the floor before he threw another one that hit him square in the forearm. He was finally yelling thank god, Steve just wanted this whole shit show to be over with, “You’re choosing him over us? After everything we’ve done for you?”
"Yes,” The word is barely out of his mouth before he’s stalking over to him, completely ignoring his mom’s weak protests for him to calm down. He was in front of him now, all that barely contained rage finally spilling over. 
He grabbed him by the collar, physically pulling him up from his seat before shaking him a little, “My only son is not going to be with a god-damned faggot. And if I have to beat it out of you I will. But you are never going near that piece of shit again. Do you understand me?”
A tiny part of Steve was begging for him to apologize. To just do what they said and stop trying to fight. But that part of himself is wrong. There wasn’t a damn thing wrong with loving Eddie. It was the best thing he’d ever done in his whole fucking life. Nothing could change his mind, not even fear. 
Steve isn’t sure what possessed him to say what he did next. Revenge, pettiness, bitter honesty, he wasn’t sure, but the words were coming out, “Y’know he kissed me for the first time under this same roof? He fucked me here too. In basically every room. And I loved every second of it. How does that feel? Knowing that your only son isn’t just in love with a fag, but gets fucked by one too?”
This time he saw the punch coming, but it didn’t stop it from hurting like a bitch. He hit him square in the face before throwing him to the ground, opting to start kicking the shit out of him next. He was always quicker than Steve gave him credit for. 
He could vaguely hear his mom screaming in the background, begging him to stop, but Daniel kept going. Even his head wasn’t off limits, and it only took one swift kick for Steve to snap out of his stupor. Why was he taking this? Why wasn’t he trying to leave? Why had he never fought back before?
His mom was physically trying to stop him now, and it was just enough time for Steve to finally fucking do something. He moves without thinking, taking the opportunity to kick him back from his place on the ground, squarely in the crotch. It’s a low blow, but fuck it. He’d never seen him so angry before, and if he didn’t get away there was a solid chance he might kill him by accident. 
It worked even better than he thought it would. His dad crumpled immediately, probably just as shocked from the fact that Steve hit him as much as he was from the pain. It’s the first time he’s ever hit him, despite the years and years of random beatings. Steve was almost as surprised as he was that he managed to do it, but he didn’t have time to dwell. He stood on shaky legs, booking it to the front door.
He stops to get the jacket, stupidly taking the time to put it back on. But if he ever needed the comfort of Eddie’s smell, it was definitely right now. 
Right before he’s about to step over the threshold, Daniel calls out to him, voice booming with fury, “If you walk out that door you’ll never see either of us again.”
It's enough to have Steve whipping back around, glaring at them both. His mom was helping his dad back up like she was actually worried he’d been hurt, when it was Steve who had blood dripping down his face. Daniel was staring right at him, daring him to leave, delusional enough to think that there was anything about them worth staying for. 
“Good riddance,” Steve hissed out before turning back away. He walked straight out the front door, ignoring every scream and yell for him to come back. 
He got into his car, and he drove away. 
Excerpt from this fic. And technically a rewrite from this fic
Part two!
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Poll 4
Solveig (She/Her) by @spellinwaiting
Why Should Your OC Win?
her life is so fucking hard she needs to win something just once
What is Your OC Like?
solveig is my tes oblivion oc and she has just SO many problems. imagine being severely mentally ill in a medieval fantasy setting with no access to proper mental health care. one time someone tried to mug her but then realized she had nothing and they felt so bad for her and the whole state she was in the mugger was like 'ok you need help' and became her friend. shes blessed to have an orc wife who loves her no matter how many times she sprints off into the woods in the midst of a manic episode. what else? she has a horse named 'horse' because she couldnt come up with anything better. she wants to be a heroic knight but is far better at killing people than saving them. her solution to most of her problems is to lie face down on the floor motionless for a while (also the picture is done by my friend whose url is @symbie not by me, i hope thats alright, also i put that here cause i didnt know where else to)
Chester Wayne Mallory (He/Him) by @liliflower137
Why Should Your OC Win?
Now at first glance Chester seems like he's on top of things. A talented inventor and programmer, a successful streamer, a husband and kids.
But even at the best of times he's an anxiety ridden mess, and while he would never do anything behind his husband's back he's still not immune to swooning over a hothot man
He's terrible at making decisions, his memory is a mess, and his empty nest syndrome is so bad he basically stole a kid once. And on top of everything, his last name means "an unfortunate person"
Plus there was that time he got trapped in a video game while live on twitch and died like 3 times. So embarassing.
Why not give him a win? He could use the self confidence boost!
What is Your OC Like?
Chester Mallory is a kind very family oriented man who gets attacked to people quickly. He tends to show his love through offering food, so his friends often have fridges full of his leftover spicy noodles.
His entire extended family consists of serial adopters, so his family reunions consists of lots and lots of found families
He lost his right arm in a terrible accident but taught himself to build his own prosthetic purely because he thinks the industry around prosthetics is bullshit
His friends tend to get pretty chaotic which usually leads to him playing the straight man and having to go take a nap after, but he still loves them more than anything, and would do anything to protect them all, especially his best buddies Boris and Malcom.
If you'd like to read about him, his story is "Something New" in the Hlvrai tag of ao3! His AU is called eternal stream! (The picture of him was drawn by @year2000electronics)
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